#one day i'm going to be the medical consult for these shows

[redheadgleek]

The medicine/science stuff wasn't as bad as Fringe, but WTF is with these depictions of placing your own IV? The angle is wrong, even with the plumpest of veins.

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

I read on Twilight's wiki page that Endo always intended on him having a high paying job (like a doctor or a lawyer) and in the end he chose to make Loid a psychiatrist due to his affinity for psychology.

And can I say. Lawyer Loid was such a missed opportunity. So much comedic potential.

Like. you have Loid Forger, notorious in the firm for winning every case that comes across him, due to his clear and concise arguments and knowledge of the law. Then you look at his home life and see that this man can't win an argument against his four six year old daughter. The minute her eyes turn teary he folds so easily. Like. That's comedy gold.

And I feel like on first meeting Yuri would hate him even more. Like, I feel like Yuri's the type of guy who goes, "a defense attorney? AKA a professional liar?" (← is a cop lying to his sister about his job) and his internal monologue just goes, "what does yor see in him? sure, he's handsome, smart, popular in his firm--" [angrily munching on food Loid made him]

And there's news of a murder on several news channels while they're having dinner one day, and the news agency names the suspect and Loid offhandedly goes, "Oh, my firm handled that" (I have to mention my work life for the mission, so they dont suspect I'm anything but a lawyer), and Yor goes, "I don't think a man his height could have done that. Look at the blood splatter. Had to be someone taller" And Loid's looking at her like: 👁️👁️, and Yor fumbles with, "Oh, Yuri used to love those detective shows when we were kids" and Loid's like, "anything you say <3. do you want some more chicken?"

And, logically, if he's assigned to a popular/high-profile enough firm, there's a higher likelihood of him making contact with high-profile businesspeople (sure they have their own legal teams, but for a consultation or something?) rather than a psychiatrist. (Again, my own opinion)

But the only downside is whenever he pulls some medical shit he cant go, "Oh, I learned that in med school" but the natural excuse can be "oh, i was a sergeant, i learned some basic medical knowledge during the war"

Anyway. Lawyer Loid could have been peak comedy.

[lie-lacdreams]

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt. 1)

Hello! I'm putting out my very first piece ever and I'm so excited to feed the masses as much Mouthwashing content as they deserve :) This game has a lot of sensitive topics to it and as such I'll try my best to bring them up as appropriately as possible. The story is gonna start off slow and elaborative because I love all of the Tulpar crew so much (except for Jollof rice, Jimneva convention) and they all have such interesting personalities that I couldn't help but to explore their wants and aspirations. This story will feature an alternative ending to the game because I cannot stomach sad things they make me very sad </3

Next

engineer! reader x curly TW: a bad word or two, I think word count ~ 1.9K

Curly was back in the medical bay for his routine psychological evaluation with Anya. With all of the questions answered and out of the way, the both of them were just chatting before he had to go back to the cockpit and finish up his duties for the afternoon.

“You’re all good to go, Captain. Seems like there isn’t much change from your answers like last time, as usual.” Anya let out a tired sigh. 

“That should be a good thing, given we’ve already been on this trip for almost two months now. We should all be used to the routine around here at this point. Has everybody else been adjusting alright?” Curly stood up from his chair, Anya following suit as they moved towards the door. 

“For the most part, everyone’s been well but I wish they would open up or take the assessment seriously. I mean, at least Daisuke has been making my job a little easier – he just talks and talks.” she mused. Curly gave a little chuckle in response, thinking about the last-minute intern that the Pony Express decided to add on board to their journey. He wasn’t exactly the most helpful – at least according to Swansea – but he brought an air of lightheartedness that they all needed in a cut-corners, shitty working environment like the Tulpar. “Oh, actually, have you seen (Y/N) lately?”

Curly thought for a moment. Along with Daisuke, (Y/N) was another late addition to the crew. The Tulpar has started showing its age and as such, there were increasingly consistent problems with the water pipes, life support, and fuel usage. However, instead of giving the crew a new ship, they handed the responsibility of keeping the ship up and running to the passengers. After their previous trip, Swansea went straight to the higher-ups and ripped them a new one, stating that “he couldn’t be expected to perform miracles”. When the crew was assigned this trip, they were all surprised that corporate had listened to Swansea’s complaints and granted them with another engineer. (Y/N) was self-sufficient, only really needing to work with Swansea to consult him on how best to move forward and with Daisuke when Swansea needed a break from his overzealousness. As a result, Curly saw and knew very little about her. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Why?”

“She’s due for her check-in as well but I haven’t seen her these past two days to tell her that. Go figure. We share a room yet recently she’s been waking up earlier and sleeping later than I have. When I went to ask Swansea and Daisuke if they’d seen her, they said that they haven’t seen her at all today.” 

“Huh. She’ll show up eventually. This ship only has so many places a person can be. If I see her, I’ll let her know to go straight to you. Thanks, Anya.” He patted her shoulder lightly before heading out, making his way back to the cockpit to fulfill his duties. 

In the evening, the crew convened at the table for dinner. Curly always looked forward to this time of day, where everyone had finished all of their tasks and could open up with light hearted banter. With only the six of them on the ship for over a year, all they had were each other, and he cherished all of his crew members. Anya and Swansea were chatting to the left of him about Swansea’s kids back on Earth. To his right, he saw Jimmy get increasingly agitated as Daisuke tried convincing him to swap dinners with him. That’s when he spotted the empty chair across from him and realized that (Y/N) was still missing. 

No one was concerned by her absence; it was a common occurrence, and he trusted Daisuke and Swansea to be in the loop about what she was up to and would report to him if anything happened. During the work day, everyone was so consumed with their jobs and couldn’t afford to worry about the whereabouts of the others, unless they needed to lend a hand. Curly wasn’t an exception to this. As the captain it was his responsibility to make sure his crew members were okay and that things were moving along nicely, and so far there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that indicated otherwise. With everyone finishing up their dinner, clean up began before people bid each other goodnight. 

In the middle of the night, he woke up parched. Debating whether or not to get a glass of water, he finally got out of bed and made his way to the lounge where the kitchen was. Leaving his room, he could hear a faint clacking noise grow slightly louder the closer he got to the lounge entrance. Opening the door to the lounge, he was finally met with the sixth crew member whom no one had seen all day. Sitting at the dining table, (Y/N) rested her feet on the seat of her chair and had her knees drawn up to her chest. All around her were books and loose papers scattered about. Her hair was messed up, likely a direct cause of the hand she kept on her head, fingernails digging into her scalp. Curly gently cleared his throat, trying to make her aware of his presence. Shooting a tired glance his way, her eyes widened a bit before immediately sitting up straight and tidying her hair. She looked guilty, like she was caught in the middle of doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. 

“Finally, we get to see her. Where have you been, Miss Absentee?” He sent a small smile her way, walking over to her.

“C-Captain! What are you doing up? It’s quite late.” (Y/N) nervously fidgeted.

“Just up for a glass of water. What are you doing up so late is the real question.” He crossed his arms. 

“Just doing a bit of work. Can’t get enough of it.” She joked dryly. Curly frowned and pulled the chair next to her to take a seat. She sighed and leaned back, finally relaxing from tensing up after seeing Curly enter the room. (Y/N) didn’t know her captain well, and as such she always tried her best to save face and remain professional with him, but at this hour of the night, she was too tired to keep up with decorum. 

He leaned on the table, facing her. “I know we may not be as close as you are with Swansea and Daisuke, or even Anya, but as your captain I care about how you’re doing and I want you to open up to me.” Her expression became hesitant as she shifted in her seat. “We’re all busy and even though it’s common for you to go missing during meal times, seeing you like this now is making me worried about how you’re doing.”

(Y/N) kept quiet for a second, looking like she was mulling something over before picking up the object right in front of her.  “Do you know what this is?” 

“An abacus. Interesting that you have one.” he said. 

“Yeah.” she sighed. She moved her gaze from Curly to the plastic Polle statue in the corner of the room. “Before I got on the Tulpar, they had given me all of the supplies I needed to fulfill my duties and do what they asked of me. I had met Swansea only briefly before so he could give me manuals and maps of the ship’s layout. I got the uniform, the steel-toed boots, notebooks, writing utensils, and a solar-powered calculator.” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d think that would be enough to prepare me to be here, but no . If only there was a way to have a bit of sunlight in outer space in a ship with no windows. They gave me something so crucial but useless out here. I had brought the abacus on board with me for sentimental reasons, but ironically enough it’s the only thing here that allows me to do my job.” She glanced back at him. “I’m not sure if you were aware, but Pony Express lied and said this was an internship for graduate students. Little did I know I’d be thrown into something I wasn’t going to have much guidance in. I needed a break from my PhD and even though the pay wasn’t that great, I was desperate for some sort of escape from academia.  I thought going to space would give me that, but every day I wake up is a constant reminder that I’m so underqualified. Swansea is an expert with the mechanical side of the ship and he’s helped me a great deal, but the fluid mechanics and thermodynamics of it all are things he knows nothing about. So I’m here, trying my best to play catch-up and praying that I figure out a solution so that this ship has enough fuel, enough air to last us an entire year, and that the Tulpar doesn’t pop like a pressurized soda bottle while we’re out here.” 

“(Y/N)...” Curly’s voice died at her name, shocked at this revelation and disappointed he somehow didn’t know about her struggle sooner. “I had no idea what you were going through. You always seemed to have a grasp on your tasks and Swansea always praised the work you did, so I just assumed you weren’t having a hard time adjusting. Have you told any of this to Anya during your evaluations?”

“No… I really wanted to believe that I could do it and stick it out, and so far, thank God, I’ve just barely made it every time. I really wanted you and the rest of the crew to believe I was capable and worthy of being here.” He cautiously put a hand on her shoulder, testing the waters on how he should comfort her. 

“You are worthy of being here. The fact that we’ve been having such a smooth trip with no complications so far makes that obvious. I really appreciate you opening up to me now. I want to do everything I can to make sure you aren’t stressed about your work. You need to get rest and eat like the rest of us. Sure, none of us are a chemical engineering smarty pants like you, but you can always ask for help, even if it’s just for something like bringing you food or running errands around the ship.” He smiled at her, and she weakly reciprocated the gesture.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Thank you, Curly.” Too tired to remember formalities, (Y/N) let out a big yawn, much to his amusement. 

“So are you gonna go to bed?” He asked. She threw her head back and groaned in defeat, murmuring a “yes”. “Good! I hope I get to see more of you around now that you’ll be asking for help, yes?”

“Yes, of course, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The both of them stood up, (Y/N) to head to her quarters and Curly to finally get his glass of water. Before completely leaving, she paused and turned back. “Oh, and Captain?” 

“Hmm?” He raised his head up to look at her again.

“I know you have a lot of responsibility on your shoulders looking after all of us. Please, rely on me too.” She smiled gently.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” He called after her as she slipped through the door. He felt content that he was making good progress to gaining the trust of the crew member he knew the least. It always made him feel good to be the reliable captain he hoped everyone viewed him as. Having that conversation with (Y/N) made him a little more relaxed now that she had opened up to him for the first time.

[akirathedramaqueen]

CBT and Exposure Therapy: Blitzø Showcase

An important (really, don't skip) disclaimer

If you are contemplating whether or not you would benefit from any kind of therapy, consider consulting with your medical provider first. While I did my best to validate all the points made using publicly available resources, I am not a medical professional. At the very least, I strongly advise that you do your own research and not take some amateur's opinion about a character from a silly demon show for granted.

"Everyone in this show needs fucking therapy STAT!"

We hear fans screaming into the void every now and then. Me too. I plead guilty and I willingly put myself in custody. But I am not taking these words back.

Especially often it is being said with Blitzø in mind, who, as hinted earlier and clearly shown in the latest episode, Ghostfuckers, is not doing okay. Not in the slightest.

Which is . . . yes. Indeed, trauma-ridden Blitzø is a major problem for both him and those around him. Yes, we see him reaching his lowest point now exactly because he left these gaping wounds untreated for so long.

But the tricky question is—how, though? What to do? Will a good talking to a confidante help? Or, maybe, some kind of shock would snap him out of the spiral?

I've been pondering on this topic for more than 4 months, and, as the Ghostfuckers came out, I finally got all the data I need to prove a point. The show did all the job for me and effectively made Blitzø go through improvised versions of two popular therapy techniques. And, before I even start, I want to say—I am so glad with what we ended up with. What they did, and, more importantly, didn't do, aligns well with how it would likely happen in real life.

So buckle up, and let's see where it gets us!

Therapy # 1. Cognitive-behavioral therapy, or CBT

This is, in essence and with some corrections, your good old talking. Here you can find more information about it, so, if you're not familiar with the topic, I recommend following the link first.

But, very shortly: CBT is an extremely common approach to be tried while you're dealing with anxiety, depression, and a number of other mental disorders. What it aims to do is to help you get past unhelpful thinking (distortions) and learn not to act on it.

Looks like it fits the bill, right? Blitzø has a lot of issues with self-fulfilling prophecies, infuriatingly stupid assumptions, poorly thought-out actions . . .

But he's not like, you know . . . w-we're not, like . . . we're not doing a . . . w-we . . . what's betw— It's a transactional fucking, you see.

If you don't feel like coming, that's OK! I'm sure I can do without it for one month. :)

Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his matress! It's nothing, ya know . . . it's nothing else.

You . . . no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to bed me . . . You are— you are free of me.

He sees things which aren't truly there.

It's not Stolas giving him space after the disaster in the 'Ozzie's.' It must be Stolas not needing him anymore, getting tired of him.

It's not Stolas caring about Blitzø. He is a royal, why would he care how an imp's day he happened to be fucking was?

It's not Stolas setting Blitzø free and putting an end to a problematic transaction they had with the hope for it to grow into something more. It's him getting rid of Blitzø.

As a result, he ends up hurting himself and the relationship he had with that one sad gay bird he happened to fall deeply for but literally trashed in his own house twice, acting on nothing more than frenetic fear of losing Stolas, but in reality, driving him away even more . . . for good.

I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important!

Ha! I'm right, aren't I? You get off getting plowed by people you look down on!

And I can sorry more people, everyone but you! 'Cause I don't owe you dick! Everyone, but you . . .

So, the case's closed? Let someone—say, Millie—talk to him and tell him how wrong he was about himself and the others?

Well, here's the thing. Despite him being infinitely wrong about Stolas's intentions, we can't deny the fact that every one of his beliefs was not, in fact, a distortion. It'd led him to wrong conclusions, yes, but it was built on the information he received and legitimate experiences he had in his life. Here are only some of the facts connected to only this situation with Stolas, but there are other problematic behaviors and other reasons for him acting the way he does.

Fact # 1. The circus fire did happen, and Blitzø was the reason for it. Unintentional, and of course it wasn't his fault, but it still ruined the lives of many people—him included. Blitzø cannot act like it never occurred.

Fact # 2. Hell is divided by class and race. Their situationship with the grimoire was an embodiment of that inequality. A lot of Blitzø's outburst during the Full Moon and later in the Apology Tour was connected to it, to his beliefs that Stolas is the same as the rest of the privileged circle. Beliefs, I stress, justified by the real world. Stolas is more of an exception, and even then, his behavior is only different when it comes to Blitzø. He still acts the same toward other imps.

Fact # 3. We knew about Stolas's intentions all along, but before that fateful Full Moon, what Blitzø saw was Stolas avoiding him and not communicating the issue the Ozzie's date had raised. And before Ozzie's? Stolas did act entitled and inappropriate. He was baby-talking to Blitzø and used derogatory terms while addressing him. The dude literally called him an impish plaything in the Truth Seekers.

Fact # 4. Blitzø's heavily implied (though not officially confirmed by the show) existing conditions—ADHD*, BPD**, PTSD, and dyslexia/dyscalculia***—do affect his life, and while Hell seems to be somewhat receptive of neurodivergence, he still has to deal with it every single fucking day. He is going to be avoidant and afraid to be abandoned at the same time. He is going to hate himself. His learning disabilities are going to make his life harder. No way around it.

Note: *, **, and *** contain links to separate meta-analyses from @timkontheunsure and @tealvenetianmask about the respective conditions and how they show themselves in Blitzø's case.

And my beef with CBT here is exactly that. CBT's goal is to gaslight you into believing your distortions hold no water and suggests you just ignore them. And, as I've shown with Blitzø, these reactions and assumptions aren't baseless. They are legitimate, and, in fact, sometimes help to get by. Even though it's a crooked crutch, you can't learn to walk properly by just throwing that crutch away. You're still going to limp, and oh, will it be painful.

This is oversimplistic and dismissive. Anxiety and depression don't come out of the blue, and with mental disabilities, it's even deeper. The class/disability stigma is alive and strong, and just slapping a "you're fine" bandaid on your traumatized self isn't going to help.

Therapy # 2. Exposure therapy.

Exposure therapy is another approach commonly used while dealing with traumatic past and its aftermath—PTSD, anxiety, phobias, and such. Again, if you're not familiar, there's the link for you, but very shortly—the therapist puts the patient in a safe environment and 'exposes' them to the feared object in question for limited periods of time. The goal is to eventually get rid of the targeted fear and decrease avoidance.

And Blitzø has got some phobias for sure.

The fear of letting everyone down. Again.

And the fear of abandonment. Again.

All of it is a result of self-hatred, sitting so deeply it rules his life and his vision of how others perceive him. Said it himself. Almost.

So, where and how does the show expose Blitzø to his traumatic past?

First, the most recent, and the most obvious one—Rolando and his slideshow of all traumatic events Blitzø ever had in his life.

Second—Blitzø's drug trip in the Truth Seekers. While it does not contain the events of the past as they were, it does force him to face his fears.

Are you worried I might have enough of it one day as well? . . . You're going to die alone! . . . You're going to die alone, Blitzo!

With some stretch, the third one is Verosika's 'Blitzo sucks' party. Where Blitzø was forced to see the consequences of his avoidance and rejection.

Note: to be clear, I do think the party does not show the true extent of Blitzø's actions and how much he'd hurt people. It was exaggerated by Verosika, and here I explain why this is the case.

So, what gives? Or, rather, what gives it not?

It might sound funny now, considering I brought it up myself, but I, once again, say this is not therapeutic, just as CBT kind of 'talking.' If anything, all these three events did more harm than good.

The D.H.O.R.K.S.'s goal in the Truth Seekers was to torture the information out of Blitzø. He was not supposed to overcome it. He was supposed to crack.

The Verosika's goal was to ruin Blitzø's reputation. She was working her ass off to prove he's just a heartless freak.

The Rolando's goal was to fucking kill Blitzø.

And okay, their motivations had nothing to do with helping him, but maybe it did, in its own twisted way?

No. The writers added this to push Blitzø past the breaking point, not to heal him, and to show us more of his lore. Each time he was forced to face his past or fears or consequences, he was only spiraling more.

The only thing which did him some good was . . . well, Millie finally seeing his bravado mask falling off. But the cost of it was way too high. Not worth it.

To the therapy's defense, some points why it would never work in the way it was done in the show:

Blitzø had never given his consent and was not ready to face it. I might be very rude right now, but go and try producing some explosion-like sounds in front of war veterans without letting them know first and see what happens.

The amount of fearful experience exposed was way too overboard. He couldn't possibly digest it in a healthy way.

The environment was not safe. It was straight-up retraumatizing, an intentional one.

So there's that.

But what helped then?

We've briefly brushed over the fact Millie did talk to Blitzø. While I did imply this might be an example of CBT, here are some key deviations from the classic therapy which made all the difference.

Millie didn't sugarcoat all the shit Blitzø did. He was hurting their business. He didn't pay her. He was reduced to Bethanie. It showed her opinion can be trusted.

Millie apologized for not being there for him sooner. She admitted she relied too much on Blitzø being bulletproof, unbothered by everything. She admitted she didn't support him in a way he always did.

While proving she could never hate Blitzø, she used their common story, one he knows and can recall. She used evidence to prove him wrong, not a "it's all in your head" bandaid. And more than that, later she proved it with action���not for one second did she believe Rolando and his shittalk about what Blitzø supposedly was thinking about her. Her unwavering faith spoke more than any words ever could.

Getting back to exposure therapy . . . Metaphorically, she reminded Blitzø he can handle a beating or two. And physically beat the infestor demon out of him, which, as we can see later, didn't really affect Blitzø that much. He wasn't even battered. So, apparently, when the said exposure is done by someone who genuinely tries to make you feel better and knows your limits well, it might just work?

And finally, Millie acknowledged Blitzø's pain. She didn't brush it away. She validated him.

What all of this is about?

Like every treatment, too much of a medicine can become poisonous. So are CBT and exposure therapy.

They might help, and lots of research shows they do in certain cases. But there are limitations to what they can and cannot achieve, and they have to be adjusted to each individual story, to each trauma, and they should not be applied as a way to mend the outcome of the trauma without taking into account the story it comes with. Again, legitimate concerns and experiences cannot be brushed away or ignored.

Actualy . . . we've seen where it leads in the show too. In the beginning, Millie was quite dismissive of Blitzø's worries—all of this over a . . . breakup?

And here it comes full circle.

Only when Millie started taking Blitzø seriously, did it help them progress. And look how quickly we've switched from a complete despair to a glimmer of hope! Isn't that a beautiful closing scene?

As a closing note—we do not need to 'fix' Blitzø. After all this shit he went through, there won't be a day where he wakes up and be like, "Hey, I don't hate myself anymore! And look, I'm not afraid to be abandoned or misunderstood!"

I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is a lifelong battle. Being mentally whole, healthy, and constantly happy is no more than a myth, and everyone has their own demons and skeletons to deal with.

What Blitzø needs is some good support system to pull him back when he's down.

And boy, do I hope that one particular owl will fill in that role of unyielding pillar for Blitzø each time our lizard will fall into that pit again. Look, I love Millie, but there's only so much she can do. She can't be always present, she has her own life . . . and her own disaster of a husband to look after (affectionate <3). Here and here @lost-romantique talks about Stolas's capacity of loving, with me occasionally nodding, ha-ha. But to be short—it's fucking immense. And since he loves words, I do believe he has all the energy to tell again and again and again how awesome Blitzø is. Even if Blitzø wouldn't believe it himself.

[physics-of-one-piece]

Things Doflamingo does/says in the I’ll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother) Rosinante x Reader x Doflamingo Fic that had me shrieking in rage or melting at the sweetness while writing it just for everyone to get the vibe of the fic:

attempts to gaslight Reader into thinking Rosinante didn’t love her (this fails) even though he knows nothing of their relationship

is insulted he hadn’t been invited to the wedding and wasn’t best man while in the same breath saying he would have stolen Reader away from Rosinante to marry her because she is "too good for his stupid brother" and Rosinante "didn't deserve her"

strips NAKED on his fourth visit in Reader’s apartment without giving any warning he arrived

buys new furniture for Reader's apartment because "he doesn't like the colour" of the original one

buys Reader new clothes+pregnancy clothes+buys baby clothes+jewelry for Reader (he does all this without consulting Reader at all) + mocks the jewelry & clothes Rosinante gave her and calls it "ugly and cheap"

attempts to throw away Rosinante's clothes from the closet to make room for his change of clothes even though he stays there for two days every week (this fails)

sleeps outside of Reader's bedroom like a guard dog the first two months of visiting

mocks the marine cadets during their drills and trips them on purpose with his strings

trauma dumps on Reader while painting himself as the victim

says to Reader's face that she doesn’t get to decide what happens to her and he says if she wants to blame anyone for having to deal with him, she should blame Rosinante who was too weak to pull the trigger

ignores Reader telling him Rosinante still loved him

Doflamingo considers Reader and Reader's & Rosinante’s baby his

he hums when he cooks

cuddly with Reader, hugs her and kisses her cheeks when he arrives + later kneels and kisses Reader's baby bump, too

his reading pile are all books about pregnancy, it's everything he reads

shows interest in Reader’s books and reads them when he isn’t reading pregnancy books

after he makes Reader laugh for the first time, he doesn't stop smiling for a week

makes Reader laugh

supportive during pregnancy, barely blinks at the bodily fluids, patient/amused with the mood swings he uses to his advantage, always picks Reader up if she’s experiencing pain or after a bout of nausea and carries her to bed - uses this as a way to slide into bed beside her and sleep beside her

calls himself Uncle Doffy when talking to the baby bump

goes with Reader to all the medical tests and ultrasounds, gets copies of the ultrasounds and frames them on his office desk in Numencia, also keeps them in his treasure vault

makes Reader a flower crown of pink rose petals

makes Reader a bracelet of white and pink pearls from seashells and gifts it to her

keeps tabs on Reader's finances

brings Reader five hundred million berries worth of gold

sends Reader pink roses and letters

hums while he cooks

he can't dance that well, but boy, he can SING

takes his sunglasses off with Reader

loves Reader's cooking, it's his favourite

calm and collected when the childbirth starts

stays past his allowed days in Marineford while Reader delivers the baby

sits on the ground in the hospital hallway after the baby is born, covered in sweat, and laughs before tears slide out from under his sunglasses and down his cheeks

confesses his love for Reader on his knees in front of her, never pushes but boy does he MANIPULATE everything around them so Reader & the baby can one day live with him

can lose his patience and become an absolute EVIL DEMON

stressed and shook by the thought of Reader confusing him with Rosinante when his hair is down, verbally confirms it, begging Reader to look at him, not his brother

Clingy, possessive & protective as fuck

Word Count Report:

Doffy's part is now 2 parts, 1 part is 10k words, the next part is above 3k, I'm not nearly done with Rosinante's part and even that's already 6k words. Going slow but steady. I should work more on Rosi's part but Doffy has my heart and soul in his grip, I keep writing more and more for his part 🤧 Idk whether this is worth a tag but I'll tag just in case.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @box-of-bats

[pynkgothicka]

Inspired by one of your reblogged posts..

I really want to see dark! misogynistic Jason Todd with a somewhat innocent! girlfriend. He was so sweet to her until they started dating; Now he just can't be bothered with her. He consults his friends about it on COD, or some other incel hangout, and they advise him to put reader in her place.

He comes home one day to reader laying in bed on her phone and he just can't seem to control himself. He's spewing out degrading thoughts, about how he's just so sweet to her and all she can do is complain, and not even be grateful that Jason's using his precious time to breed and lay his claim her needy cunt. Using and absolutely destroying her like the plaything she is.

(also, can i be 🐢 anon? i feel like I'll be returning to you for a while.. i love ur work!)

Ｉｍａｇｉｎｉｎｇ ＪＳＴ

Pairing - Dark! Misogynistic! Incel! Jason Todd x Innocent! Girlfriend! AFAB! Reader

Featuring - Rest of the Batboys

Tags and Warnings - Incel behavior, noncon, name calling, misogyny, medication, gaslighting, degrading, abuse, violence against oc/reader

Authors Note - Back tew my roots!!!! And ofc I would love to finally have anons!! Also sorry this took eons-

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Jason watched you in your shared small apartment. He couldn't figure out what went wrong between the two of you. It started whenever he moved in. Jason was never so used to having somewhere there 24/7.

You were just so needy and particular.

“Jason? Baby… what do you want for dinner tonight?” You ask coming to sit by him. Your hands ran over his arm and kissing at his visable scars. Jason pulled away from you, the feeling making his skin tingle.

He watched as your face fell and you sigh before getting up and grabbing your purse. “I'm going grab something to eat tonight. Please remember to take your medicine.” You say heading to the door and leaving.

“I don't need them.” Jason replied quickly looking at you as you straightened up the living room before leaving. “I told you about reminding me to do shit.”

Jason watched as you just sighed again. “I tell you because I want you to be better baby. I don't want to keep doing things alone, I just want us to be better.” You said doting once again, keeping your sweet nature with Jason. But he only saw that as pity and he hated it. He hissed before rolling his eyes and getting up, the couch going back by his sheer strength. “I don't care what's for dinner. Just get out.”

💭

“I don't know what to do with her. She's just so fucking annoying.” Jason rambles into his microphone. He was playing COD with some online friends. One of his friends, N1ghtVV1ng laughs into his own mic.

“Well what is she doing huh? My girl treats me just right, and even allows me to fuck whenever I want.” He taunts. Jason rolled his eyes at his friends comments. “And she's so tight, god I trained her right.”

“Dude that's so gross.” RedRobinYum, another one of his friends said.

“Well, she just keeps bothering me. Then whenever I try to ask for something she just reminds me to take my meds.” Jason sneered. “Its the same shit, all these dumb questions. I just want her to stay with me and not bug me.”

“Well have you tried putting her in her place? Show her what you want from her.” DamitheBest says. Jason hummed at that suggestion.

“She's just so fragile, I'm afraid she might bre-”

“Get that shit out of your mind now.” Dami says. “Show her who's the boss before she does. Women will kick you to the curb and leave you for someone who'll tolerate that shit they pull.”

“Literally don't listen to these freaks, sit down and talk to her.” RedRobin chimes in. “With any relationship just talk it out, trust me I do that with my partner and we just talk everything out.”

Jason could hear Dami make a buzzer noise that almost broke his mic. “Nope, don't listen to him. Red, he's gotta put his foot down. Cut out any disobedience from his girl.”

Jason looked down at that, the thought of hurting you almost sickeningly turned him on. Dami was right and had always been. Jason just needed to man up and confront you.

💭

“What are you doing?”

You turn around from your spot on the bed too see Jason, standing in the doorway. You smile before getting back on your phone, his voice making you feel better that he's still around.

Yet majority of the time, Jasons voice always brought you a sense of worry and hurt. Worrying so much for and about him made you into someone who barely cared for yourself. It was always Jason, and everything you did was for him.

“Nothing really, I'm just kind of bored.” You reply. Jason stares at you, face blank. His eyes leered at your body as you just so casually laid down. Almost as if just waiting for you to say something. Anything.

“Your not going to bug me to take my meds?” Jason practically spat out. You turned around moving to where you sat on the bed. “Not gonna ask me to take out the trash, help around the apartment?

You furrow your brows. “What? Why are you talking to me like that?” You asked looking at him. “I- What did I do?”

“You dont like it when someone stands against you?” He replied completely ignoring your question. Everything about Jason's words and demeanor frightened you. It was like he genuinely hated you.

You stood up walking towards him slowly. “Jay… it's okay. I think you're having a episode…” You say keeping your voice low. Jason's chest came up and down as he kept getting more and more enraged. You reached out a hand to touch his arm, but Jason pushed you away. Your lower back hit the vanity you both built when you moved in.

“You think I'm having a episode?! Of course you do, you don't just think I'm pissed?” He replied moving to tower over you. You put a hand on the vanity to stand back up. Your chest heaved as your lungs tried to keep up with your heart. You pushed past him leaving through the bedroom door.

Back burning, you looked for your keys. “I'm done with this, all I want is what's best for you. But you've treated me like shit, and I'm done with it.” You said seeing reaching for your keys.

But they were picked up and thrown across the room.

Jason pushed your head against your kitchen island. You groaned out and began to thrash around. Jason snarled at you, keeping you detained.

Hr laughed in your face and seemingly just waited for you to calm down. “I like it when your quiet.” He said leaning down to kiss the back of your head. Your breathing shuddered as you began to cry quietly. Jason reveled in your weakness a hand resting on the back of your neck, the other on your back.

“What did I do Jason … What did I do so wrong…?” You said, your words breaking with your own tears.

“Get on my nerves… I'm such a good boyfriend, yet all you do is complain. I'm sick of that, so I'm going to change it.” Then you feel Jason's arm brush against you as he reached for the kitchen scissors. “Stay still, unless you want to get hurt. I could care either less.” He said as he took the scissors to your shirt. Cutting down the fabric, leaving you exposed as you chose not to wear a bra.

Starting to kick at Jason again, flipping around to try and get away. That attempt was failed, as Jason took your throat in hand, slamming your head back onto the counter. Your vision blurred on impact as he took off your shirt completely. The impact made you dizzy and start to become unaware. Jason saw that, and quickly took advantage of it, kissing at your neck.

He was going to get himself off.

It was what you owed him.

His kisses trailed down to your stomach, tongue dipping into every dip in your skin. You let out dazed cries as tears poured down your cheek. “You've always been so gorgeous. Don't you see how good you could have it?” Jason commented quietly as he pulled down your sweatpants along with your panties. He blew on your cunt, watching just how wet you became at his actions. “Do I have to keep beating you for you to keep still.”

Biting at your bottom lip to hold back tears you shake your head. He smiled as you shivered from his breathing. Jason pushed his head into your cunt, lapping at your exposed pussy. You bit at your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, just once you wanted to be stronger than what you actually were. But Jason knew you, his hand coming down on your ass, making you yelp out. “Stop that, I want to hear you.” He said into your cunt as he continued to eat you out.

But Jason is Jason.

And Jason is selfish.

He only eats you out close enough to make you cum. He pulls away with the bottom half of of his face coated in your juices. You grabbed at the counter top, full on sobbing. “Please… Jay. Stop we can ta-” Jason's hand came crashing down next to your head, the sound of tile making you cry out more.

“You had your chance. You had multiple chances to talk, but you didn't. So now I'm putting you in your place.” He said, ignoring any protests you had. You could hear him undo his pants, the taunting noise of his zipper making your cries only louder. A dribble of spit hits your cunt, Jason's palm coming down to rub at your cunt. “Now shhh, while you take this dick.”

You let out a yell as Jason pushes his length all the way into you. He sits there, breathing heavy and labored.

His eyes stayed fixated on your pussy, swallowing his cock. He pulled out then pushed back in, your walls clamping on his length. His groans were deep as he took no time for you to adjust, fucking into you. Your body shook and shuddered as he held you down, using you for his own pleasure.

“You're so pretty like this,” Jason said his body pounding into your own. You continued to whimper under him, feeling your body become weak. His hand tangled in the mess he had made of your hair, using his strength to pull you up. “You need to be like this all the time, then I wouldn't have to deal with a bitch for a girlfriend.” He snickered into your ear. He said it like it was a threat, or a suggestion you couldn't turn down.

So you nodded in agreeance, his smile turning wicked as he fucked into you. You could feel his hips stutter as he reached his peak. Jason's hand moved to your clit as he rubbed at your bud. “You better cum with me or I'll keep raping this cunt.” That quickly snapped you back to reaily. The realization of needing to end the abuse he put you through, you tried feeling pleasure from the trauma he was putting you through.

Then you feel it. The feeling of you cumming alongside your cunt getting filled. You let out a choked gasp, Jason groaning as he filled you to the brim. His hand grabbed at your ass as he hissed. He pulled out watching as a dribbles of his cum dropped from your abused cunt. He quickly pushed it back into you with two thick fingers. Jason snickered before pulling up his boxers, leaving his jeans on the ground.

“Clean up in here, I'm getting back on the game.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @fangirl-death-rose @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops

[onedingo]

three teenagers stab their teacher at school in Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil.

The privacy policies for the perpetrators of the crime are different in Brazil, so we will treat it like this: A boy X (15yo), a boy Y (14yo) years old), and a girl Z (13yo)

the teenagers met each other at the bus stop to go to school. The boy X took four knives with him in his bag, the boy Y took one knife, and the girl Z didn't take any, so they divided the weapons among themselves.

they entered peacefully in the school for the classes, and they showed the knives for the classmates and said "we're gonna kill the teacher" but how it was April 1st, their classmates thought it was an April fool

They entered a seventh grade classroom. One of them turned off the camera and put it in his backpack, while another went to close the door. The teacher, who is 34 years old, said "leave it open, it's too hot in here" as she handed out textbooks to the class. She's an English teacher.

When she reached the front of the teachers' table, she received the first blow from boy Y in the back. Then, he continued to stab her and boy X joined him. Together they stabbed the teacher more than 13 times, who screamed in agony in pain, asking for help and covered in blood.

"I wanted to help the teacher, but they were on top of her. We ended up with this scene of the teacher lying on the floor, covered in blood and asking for help" said a student

another student claimed "We couldn't do anything. They could threaten us or do something worse."

The girl was apprehended by the police and taken to the only "prison" for young offenders in Brazil, which is also in Rio Grande do Sul. The two boys were hidden for about 4 hours in a thicket, until they were found and arrested.

The motives for the crime were apparently resentment and revenge against the school. The youngsters were not being bullied; quite the opposite, they often disrupted class by making a mess and being rude. The oldest, aged 15, had been in the seventh grade for 2 years, as he had been repeating a year. The students were performing very poorly (since the normal age for seventh graders in Brazil is between 12 and 13).

Five days earlier, the three children entered the UBS next door (UBS are basic and public health units that offer free treatments, medicines and medical consultations) and took hidden condoms. They blew up the condoms like balloons and started causing discord in the classroom, which resulted in the principal calling the father of the three students to the school, because they had already accumulated a lot of bad behavior at school.

The three students who were reprimanded in the condom incident began openly planning revenge: the murder of teachers. "I'm going to set this principal on fire," one of them said.

In this way, they created a group on Instagram called "Matadores" which means "killers", where they spoke about teachers, students and directors with hatred, contempt and intention to kill.

"How many are we going to kill?" asked the boy Y

"whoever is in front" replied the boy X

one day before, the boy X said: "We're going to go into the classroom and then the first period will be with the English teacher. Then, as she's freaked out, I'll go towards the classroom camera and take the camera off."

"Then you and girl Z go towards her stabbing her and then I arrive," he said. "Then we tell the group to be quiet because if they don't, everyone will die," he continued.

The boy X continued saying "I'm going to become a serial killer, I don't care" and the boy Y replied "me too, lol"

Despite everything, the teacher survived, because one of the students managed to run to the UBS, which was next to the school, and called a nurse, who was able to take care of the teacher until the ambulance arrived. She has now been discharged from the hospital, is undergoing treatment and receiving free psychological support from the government.

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Charlie Dalton, Neil Perry and Todd Anderson Taking Care of Their Sick S/O

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Charlie Dalton x sick!gn!reader (romantic), Neil Perry x sick!gn!reader , Todd Anderson x sick!gn!reader (romantic)

Warnings: The reader has a cold so... yeah. Also, since I'm sick myself, my brain isn't really working at it's normal level so apologies for any mistakes! (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Unfortunately I'm still sick (it's only been a few days). Fortunately, I'm still motivated to write headcanons to get me through this relatively mild illness (and I'm starting to feel better)! I've got a Todd one-shot draft that I started a year ago and never got around to finishing, so here's my first offering to the Dead Poets Society fandom. I'd love to write more for it, both reader-insert and not. I'm not sure if I'll end up writing any more sick fics (I've already written hcs for Yellowjackets and Abed Nadir and Annie Edison from Community) since I should be better soon, but if you're still interested check out my fandom list and requesting info and feel free to send an ask!)

CHARLIE

Charlie will jokingly tell you that you’re disgusting.

If you’re not amused by that, he’ll awkwardly but sincerely apologise, his mortification thinly veiled.

He isn’t entirely sure what the hell to do to make you less sick.

(He'll have to consult his more medically knowledgeable friends for advice)

He will ask you if you want him to kiss it all better.

(And he will not hesitate to kiss you when you give him the go ahead)

Suffice it to say, he does not care all that much about getting sick himself.

(A small part of him hopes that he does get sick so you'll have to take care of him)

He will spend so much time with you, you’d think you were dying.

He will also get you anything you ask for (even if it has no clear use in making you physically better- he just wants to make you happy).

If his earlier attempt at joking doesn't work, he'll still persist in cracking jokes and making you laugh to make you feel better.

(If your laughter causes you to break out into a coughing fit, though, he will feel awful).

NEIL

Neil knows exactly what to do.

He may not like his dad's dream of him becoming a doctor, but damn he has such a knack for looking after you.

He makes sure you’re drinking enough fluids and taking any medicine you need to take.

No matter how disgusting you might get, Neil is completely unfazed the whole time.

If anything, he'll find it funny and try to keep you in as high spirits as possible.

If he does mind getting sick, he certainly doesn't show it.

For example, he doesn't hesitate when kissing you on the cheek or forehead.

He loves you so much that it really won’t matter to him if you can- or do- get him sick.

He’ll regularly ask you if there’s anything that you want or need, and if you’re comfortable, and if you’re too hot or cold.

It’s evident that he cares about you getting better.

He’ll sit at your bedside and try to take your mind off of how you’re feeling.

But, he will insist that you need to rest up, so when you’re asleep or trying to fall asleep he’ll be as quiet as humanly possible to make sure he doesn’t wake you up.

If he does end up waking you, he’ll feel terrible about it.

He’s so loving and caring anyway, but especially when you’re sick.

TODD

This guy is fucking terrified.

He assumes that anything he does will only make you sicker.

A small part of him is convinced you will die under his care.

So, he begs Neil for advice, and Neil humours him so that Todd doesn’t drive himself nuts.

Todd will regularly ask you if you need something, and he’ll repeatedly offer you whatever Neil advised him about.

He’s also completely torn between his innate desire not to get himself sick, and his deep love and affection for you.

So, please don’t get upset with him if he recoils almost every time you cough and sneeze, because he does spend as much time as he possibly can at your bedside.

Speaking of which, Todd sits at your bedside like a loyal golden retriever.

He’ll hold your hand (internally panicking about your high temperature, of course) and place the occasional kiss on the back of it.

He’ll also read some of his poems, works in progress and completed, out to you, and he’ll make sure to pick plenty that are about you specifically.

Sure, he’s nervous, but you love his poetry and all he wants to do is reduce how terrible you feel.

[seaglassmelody]

Sabi Lore Post!!! But this one is just one question because it got a little long.

I'm working off of hyperions-light's Rook Intro Hour questions for the most part!

Bonus Sabi screenshots:

This post is: If your Rook had not been recruited by Varric after they were exiled from their faction, what would they have done? How would they have reacted to the events of the game if they weren't in a position to influence them? Would they have tried to go back to their faction? Would they have joined another? Would they have attempted to combat the gods alone?

Sabriel, being a trained spirit healer, would still take her skills outside of Nevarra even if she wasn't recruited by Varric. She readily accepted her "punishment"/sabbatical after the War of the Banners, and took it mostly as an opportunity to see the world outside of the Necropolis. She'd spent her whole life either in its walls or in Nevarra City, and she wanted to explore the places she had read about so many times.

The first place she would go is Rivain, to see the ocean and see if she could learn about spirits from the seers. She would want to visit Antiva, but with the Antaam invasion she would likely just try to pass through unscathed.

I like to think that she'd ultimately get wrapped up with the Shadow Dragons in Minrathous. She's a person begging for a calling- she likes to help, she has the skills to do so, and she feels strongly for her fellow elves, so the Shadows would be an easy sell for her. In my mind she has a little clinic in Dock Town to treat injuries and minor illnesses (very similar to Anders honestly, keeping up that spirit healer tradition!). She can help consult with the Shadows on demon and spirit problems, giving them a new perspective with her spirit caller skills and Mourn Watch background. She sometimes clashes with Tevinter mages due to the cultural differences (leaving the Necropolis really shows her how deeply Nevarran she is) but she knows they're doing their best with what they've got, knowledge-wise.

She'd be a good contact for the Veilguard, and could serve as ears and eyes on the ground for Neve once Neve is at the Lighthouse and not in Dock Town every day. Even if Minrathous falls to the dragon, she would be hardy enough to survive, though the Venatori taking over Minrathous would spur her to leave, likely to return to Nevarra for safety. She would be a strong voice for supporting the Veilguard within the Mourn Watch. She would likely not face the gods until the very end, in the battle against Elgar'nan in Minrathous, focused on taking care of the injured and Blighted.

I just really like the idea of Sabriel getting to explore Thedas a little, and overlapping with the Veilguard without necessarily being a part of it. She's your friendly neighborhood healer- a little medical assistance, a little gossip, weird connections from being in the Shadows but also the Mourn Watch. She listens to spirits in her spare time and goes and stares at the water. She would still love Neve. She's practiced in making a home for herself- even though she grew up in Nevarra, her lack of familial history and roots means she built her Home herself, so she's fully capable of doing it again.

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 20)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity

The following day, at around 2.30pm in the afternoon, you arrived at the doctor's office where Cillian was already waiting for you in front of the building, smiling at you nervously.

"Hey," you said almost shyly, your heart pounding in your chest. "You're early," you noted as you approached him delicately, not wanting to disturb the fragile equilibrium between you two.

"Yeah, I couldn't wait to meet our baby," Cillian assured you, his gaze meeting yours earnestly. "I'm nervous, but I can't wait to see her," he added, his voice quivering slightly.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. "Me too," you agreed. "But the appointment isn't until 3 o'clock, which means that we will just be waiting around," you then chuckled quietly, seeing that both of you struggled with your nerves. 

"True," Cillian concurred, his gaze wandering aimlessly over the bustling street. "Do you fancy grabbing a coffee or something while we wait?" he wondered aloud, his voice conveying sincerity. 

"No, lets just go inside. I feel a little nauseous," you replied, swaying delicately on your feet as Cillian offered you his arm. "Besides, I am pretty sure we will need to register anyway. I only ever went to the public hospital before for my consultations and no doubt there will be forms to fill in," you mentioned, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming anxiety you suddenly experienced.

"Alright," Cillian agreed, leading you through the entrance of the medical facility. Once inside, the receptionist recognized Cillian right away. He had arranged this appointment for you in advance and she greeted you warmly, guiding you towards the elevator. "Go ahead and take the lift to the second floor," she instructed, her gaze resting on you with warmth and kindness.

"One of the obstetric nurses will greet you upon arrival and show you to a private waiting area, just as requested," she added, her smile lighting up her face.

"Thank you," you mumbled politely, exchanging a meaningful glance with Cillian before stepping into the elevator. The doors closed silently behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the small space. Your heart raced wildly in your chest, and you could sense the tension crackling between you. You glanced at Cillian, noticing the slight flush in his cheeks. His gaze held a mix of apprehension and excitement, mirroring your own feelings.

But a blush on his face wasn't the only thing you noticed. You also noticed a little bruise on his neck and chuckled. "Big night?" you asked, your gaze lingering on the faint bruise marring the side of his neck. It looked suspiciously similar to the mark left by a passionate kiss.

Cillian shifted uncomfortably under your scrutiny, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Oh, um, yeah," he muttered awkwardly, averting his gaze nervously. "I had a few drinks last night," he confessed, his voice cracking slightly. "And, uh, well, you know how it goes sometimes," he trailed off, his words ending in a hushed whisper.

"Uh huh," you rolled your eyes playfully and, whilst you desperately wanted to know who the woman was that he was with, you decided to respect his privacy. After all, you were not together and he did not owe you an explanation. 

Besides, it was none of your business, you told yourself, trying to focus on the ultrasound appointment rather than on the intimate mark on his neck.

You stepped out of the elevator onto the second floor, both of you remaining silent as you followed the nurse's direction towards the private waiting area. Cillian broke the silence, however, as soon as you entered the room.

"Would you like me to get you some water?"

Cillian asked, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "I think I saw a fountain somewhere near the elevators," he continued, offering to fetch you a drink.

"No thank you," you declined graciously, a hint of teasing mirrored in your gaze. "I am actually feeling a lot better now. It's just nerves I think," you admitted, seeing that, at your age, you had never really planned to be a mother. 

"I am nervous too, Y/N. I never," he began to stammer, recalling the losses he had experienced with his ex-wife Danielle, and their struggles with infertility before Max was born, the child he loved but who wasn't his biological son. "I never expected to become a father after what Danielle and I have gone through, you know?" he finished in a hushed whisper, his gaze fixed on your stomach.

"I know," you encouraged him, sensing his inner turmoil. "But everything will be fine this time around. I have a good feeling about this and our daughter will be loved, cherished, and cared for. We are going to embrace parenthood together, in our own way, just as we have discussed," you smiled reassuringly, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah," Cillian replied, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I hope so," he told you as his thoughts wandered to his fractured relationship with Danielle and the lingering pain of their failed union.

He recalled the years invested in therapy, attempting to salvage their marriage, only to confront the reality of irreversible damage. He knew that he had grown distant from Danielle, yet the ache of their broken bond lingered within him.

"So," Cillian began cautiously, his gaze darting around the sterile room as he tried to get his failed marriage out of his head. "Did you think of any names?" Cillian asked tentatively, trying to change the subject.

"A couple," you answered, turning your attention back to him. "I have been reading some old books I found in the attic of the new house, and I was thinking of naming her 'Mara'. As you probably already know, it is an old Irish name meaning 'sea'. And I think it suits a baby girl born from an ocean of chaos rather well," you explained, your gaze drifting dreamily toward the window.

Cillian considered this, his brow furrowing in thought. "That's quite poetic," he remarked, his voice conveying admiration.

"I like it," he added, his gaze shifting back to you. "I like it a lot," he emphasized, his voice thick with emotion.

You beamed triumphantly, feeling a surge of pride for your creative suggestion. "Thank you, Cillian," you chuckled. "I am glad you approve," you murmured softly, your fingers tracing the gently formed curve of your belly.

"Well, it's a lovely name," Cillian agreed, his gaze lingering on your midsection with tender fondness. "It has a certain ring to it," he added, his voice conveying genuine appreciation.

"Thank you," you replied sincerely, a warm glow enveloping you. "I think Mara is perfect for our little girl," you affirmed, your heart swelling with emotion.

As the minutes ticked by, the air in the waiting room grew heavy with anticipation. You fidgeted uneasily and Cillian took your hand into his, providing reassurance you so desperately needed.

Finally, the door opened discreetly, and a nurse beckoned you both inside the examination room. "Mrs Y/LN, Mr Murphy, please follow me," she announced politely, gesturing for you to enter the dimly lit space before asking you to lay down on the examination table.

"Mr Murphy, please take a seat next to the examination table," she instructed, pointing to a chair beside the table. "You will both be able to see your little bundle of joy on the screen up here once we are set up," she added, indicating towards monitors mounted on the wall.

"I understand that you had all your genetic blood tests done already and the results are favorable. No risks were identified and, as you already know, you are expecting a little girl," the nurse explained professionally as she prepared the ultrasound machine.

You nodded, your gaze locked on the darkened screen. "Yes," you affirmed, squeezing Cillian's hand reassuringly. "And we are really excited, I think...," you stammered, your voice conveying gratitude.

"Of course you are," the nurse smiled. "So, lets see what your little girl is doing, shall we?" the nurse encouraged you both, her voice radiating warmth and gentleness.

After you instinctively lifted up your shirt, the nurse's delicate hands moved skillfully, maneuvering the transducer across your abdomen, searching for the elusive image of your unborn child.

Cillian watched intently, his gaze fixed on the screen, scanning eagerly for signs of life. His breath quickened, and his pulse pounded in his veins, as images flickered across the monitor. An eerie alien landscape unfolded before him, filled with mysterious shadows and echoes of movement.

"There we go, "the nurse whispered softly, adjusting the controls expertly. "Here comes our little one," she cooed, her voice reverberating with tenderness.

Suddenly, the black void exploded with light, revealing the shadowy outline of your unborn child.

"Ah, look at that!" the nurse exclaimed enthusiastically, pointing towards the screen. "She's moving around nicely," she observed, her voice ringing with wonder.

Cillian stared raptly at the flickering image, his heartbeat accelerating wildly.

"Her heartbeat is strong and she is measuring around 17 weeks. That puts us right on track for an estimated due date," the nurse announced proudly, her voice filled with delight.

"Wow," Cillian marveled, his heart swelling with awe. "She's really active, isn't she?" he observed, his gaze glued to the pulsating image on the screen.

"Yes, indeed," the nurse concurred, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Just watch as I move the wand around a bit," she advised, manipulating the probe dexterously.

"Watch closely," she encouraged, her tone filled with excitement.

Cillian leaned forward with anticipation, his gaze locked on the screen. The image shimmered with ghostly intensity, and the rhythmic thump of his little girl's heartbeat echoed in the room.

"Can you hear that?" the nurse inquired, her voice filled with pride. "That's her heartbeat," she stated, her expression radiant with happiness and you nodded, your gaze lingering on the image of your unborn child.

 "I can't believe that, in just a few months, we will be welcoming her into our lives," Cillian replied, his gaze fixed on the screen.

"It feels surreal, doesn't it?" you mused, your voice softening. "But I'm so grateful for this moment," you told Cillian, feeling glad that you had decided against terminating the pregnancy after all. 

"As am I," Cillian echoed, his voice filled with warmth.

"I've been picturing her in my mind every day, and seeing her heartbeat is... it is incredible...," Cillian trialed off, his gaze lingering on the screen. "Thank you, Y/N," he then said with emotion, feeling grateful for your choice to keep his child.  "Thank you for keeping our baby," he repeated, his voice breaking slightly as his gaze drifted lovingly to your midsection in awe. 

To be continued...

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[earthstellar]

healthcare event day: new lanyards, new enemies -- Pharma would love this shit

had to go to a healthcare conference

they were giving out lavender gin and brie crackers, like astonishingly good snacks and booze (probably because a lot of consultants were present lmao)

everyone got drunk and the hepatologists got mad about it

anyway two docs got in a verbal fight in the hallway which got pretty loud (all I know is that it was an argument about a research project)

you can't tell me Ratchet and Pharma wouldn't be the two docs fighting at the professional event lmao

also they really gave everyone a lot of gin, the tonic seemed to be optional. like straight up shots. you'd think they wouldn't do this at a healthcare thing but I think the organisers were just excited about hosting something in London so they went overboard LOL

I can imagine some event in Iacon going roughly the same way, they want to schmooze with the big city medics so they accidentally-on-purpose get everyone wasted on unreasonably good engex in order to make sure everyone has a good time (this does not work, it only results in pettiness and/or arguing, lmao)

like usually they'll have Prosecco or something served moderately, but this was fucking shots of gin. which is hilarious.

maybe it's because it's Saturday so they felt bad about having everyone show up on a weekend, I have no idea. almost all of us work every weekend anyway lol.

nothing is funnier than watching med professionals get increasingly drunk and somewhat agitated with one another over the course of several hours while still having to pretend to be more or less professional

like you can't cause too much of a scene in the lecture hall, but as soon as everyone's mingling in the reception area, everyone groups into their various specialities and starts WILDLY SHIT TALKING

Pharma would be a shit-talker. Ratchet would be consistently agitated the entire time, and would get into arguments over health service logistics and solutions to staff retention problems, among other things.

First Aid would be the one trying to make sure that nobody from their institution embarrasses themselves too badly in front of anyone from any of the other institutions, in between trying to network with said other institutions.

Ambulon would be three shots of engex deep by the second speaker, but still taking some pretty good notes the whole time while actively avoiding having to speak with anyone else.

Velocity would be extremely nervous but ultimately would raise some good questions during the Q&A session. She would also immediately utilise any stickers in the swag bag to decorate her datapad, but then panic because now she has to shove all the blank sticker papers into her bag since there's no trash receptacle around, which makes it rustle really loudly.

anyway I'm going to take a nap now, I ate a whole fucking block of brie at this thing

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Just For You (Kenjaku x Mahito)

Contains: breeding, weird biology, Mahito changes his genitals, Kenjaku's breeding obsession.

Hello again! Day 8 of Kinktober was breeding so we all knew where this was going, I'm sure. A little different as I didn't want to fully change Mahito's genitals, so I did have to consult some Mahito Genital Experts for this one. While I don't mind him with a pussy, I just feel like sometimes his cock gets neglected outside of the xreader genre. Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain. Hopefully it isn't too strange! Comments and rb's are appreciated as always!

Mahito stared incredulously at the man that sat across from him. There were times where he was genuinely taken aback by the things that Kenjaku said and this was one of those moments. They had been playing chess, or rather, Kenjaku had been playing chess while Mahito watched and occasionally moved one of the pieces without being told to. When suddenly Kenjaku stopped as if he were lost in thought.

“You want me to do what to myself?”Mahito asked, believing he had misheard the man. He’d mentioned before his willingness to do almost anything for their plan, but this time he wasn’t sure if he was comprehending.

Kenjaku crossed his arms over his chest, he didn’t entirely like repeating himself but he supposed it had been an odd request. It hadn’t been long since they had revived and lost two of the Death Womb Paintings, and while Kenjaku didn’t need any new vessels technically. 

“I simply asked if you would be willing to alter the shape of your soul enough to give you reproductive organs,” Kenjaku asked again. There really was no other way of putting it, he was more curious about seeing whether he could create a child with a curse instead of a vessel or being like Choso and his brothers. The science of a man’s body mating with a curse versus a woman’s was not as well studied, even if he was the only one studying it.

Mahito frowned, it wasn’t as if he was against the idea, it was more he wasn’t entirely sure what he needed to change. Though he’d seen some of the books Kenjaku has, the anatomy books, even if he wasn’t interested in them he was sure he could figure something out by going through them.  

“What’s in it for me?” Mahito asked. It did sound like something that could be fun, every other time Kenjaku had brought up ‘reproduction’ it always ended in pleasure for him, so he wasn’t afraid. Mahito just wanted more of a reward this time.

Looking around the room Kenjaku noted the time, nearing midnight. The apartment he stayed in when not working directly with the curses was a nearly empty one in the same run down building. Still it was a good place for him to keep some of his things safe without relying on the curses or using the former home of his vessel.

He didn’t spend too much time here, and even rarer did he let the other curses come here as well. Mahito had been following him around more though, and with the thought of trying curse impregnation again, Kenjaku figured the time was right.

“I’ll tell you a secret about my technique, something important that you can’t tell anyone before Shibuya,” Kenjaku proposed. He knew Mahito’s curiosity would get the better of him, the curse was already suspicious of him, so perhaps if he gave him some kind of information, it would keep Mahito’s snooping in check.

Mahito’s eyebrows rose, the shocked look on his face speaking volumes. He hadn’t expected Kenjaku to offer something like that, he’d expected something else on the lines of the pleasure he’d get as usual. This was something he’d been waiting for however. Moving his rook forward blindly, Mahito nodded. 

A cheshire grin worked its way onto Kenjaku’s face, both at Mahito’s agreeance, but also his foolish move. Falling right into his trap, Kenjaku moved his knight toward Mahito’s now unguarded king, placing him in checkmate easily.

What a lovely metaphor.

-

After about thirty minutes of showing Mahito different medical textbooks, the two of them sat on Kenjaku’s bed. Mahito laid completely nude and propped up by pillows, his legs bent and spread before Kenjaku. The scene was surprisingly clinical, as Kenjaku placed his hand on Mahito’s soft cock, the curse whined but didn’t move.

“Can’t I just change the insides?” Mahito whined, he had already changed his guts to match that of the pictures they studied. The curse didn’t quite understand why he had to change anything else. He enjoyed the way it felt for Kenjaku to play with his cock while he fucked him, it just didn’t seem as pleasurable without it.

Kenjaku rolled his eyes, he honestly hadn’t expected so many questions about the genitalia, especially when he provided plenty of examples of it. Kneeling in between Mahito’s open legs, Kenjaku moved his hand over to rest on the curse’s thigh.

“There needs to be a way to access the organs you’ve added, otherwise there isn’t a point to them being there,” Kenjaku explained.

Nodding, Mahito thought for a moment about what he could possibly do. It didn’t take long to come up with something he was sure Kenjaku hadn’t expected. Sitting up further, he placed his hand over his cock, hiding himself from Kenjaku’s curious eyes. 

When Mahito removed his hands, he revealed something rather unexpected to Kenjaku. Where the curse’s balls had been, now sat the glistening folds of a newly added pussy. His still flaccid cock rested above the hole where one would normally expect to find the clitorus. 

Kenjaku could feel the look of awe on his face, he hadn’t expected Mahito to get so creative with this. He supposed this was a perk of being so intimate with a curse like Mahito, even less reason for human expectations.

Hand trailing over from Mahito’s thigh, Kenjaku traced the wet folds of Mahito’s new pussy. The flesh sensitive if the small moan from Mahito was anything to go by. Kenjaku coated the tips of two fingers in the wet substance that was covering the area and brought it to his lips. The taste was similar to Mahito’s normal release, a taste he had grown fond of. 

The sight of Mahito splayed out before him, legs open and eyes looking into his for approval, Kenjaku could already feel himself getting aroused. He had already stripped down, only wearing a soft pair of pants, but the loose material was already feeling too constricting. 

Without warning, Kenjaku leaned down, taking Mahito’s soft cock into his mouth at the same time he pressed two fingers into Mahito’s leaky pussy. Mahito’s legs wrapped around Kenjaku’s shoulders as the new sensations washed over him, pleasure taking over his body quickly. 

It didn’t take long for Mahito’s cock to grow harder in Kenjaku’s mouth. Bobbing his head, Kenjaku kept his pace the same as his fingers pumping in and out of Mahito. He could feel Mahito squeeze his fingers every time he sucked at the head of his cock. Even if the goal of this was to test how Mahito’s body reacted to new organs, he still took pleasure in seeing the powerful curse so overwhelmed with pleasure.

Mahito’s hands flew down, tangling in the dark hair near the bun on Kenjaku’s head. His mind was swimming, Kenjaku’s mouth always made him feel so good but he hadn’t expected this new hole to feel any different. The stretching feeling of having Kenjaku’s fingers inside him felt almost euphoric. Perhaps it was because the body part was new, but he felt so much more sensitive than usual. 

The thighs around Kenjaku’s head squeezed as he pressed his lips to the base of Mahito’s cock, nose brushing against the curse’s pelvis. Swallowing around Mahito, he felt the curse’s body tremble with pleasure. 

Kenjaku could feel how aroused Mahito was by the juice dripping down his chin. He hadn’t expected it to be such a turn on to feel Mahito’s arousal in so many different ways. Looking up he could see Mahito’s eyes were rolled back in pleasure, mouth open as he breathed like he was mid-fight.

That was enough observation for Kenjaku, licking a stripe up Mahito’s cock before sitting up. Mahito whined as Kenjaku pulled his fingers out, the curse not liking both pleasurable sensations leaving him at the same time. 

Kenjaku lifted his fingers to his lips, pausing before changing his mind. Wet fingers now pressing up against Mahito’s whimpering lips, the curse opening his mouth quickly to suck them clean. Mahito desperately cleaned his own juices off of Kenjaku’s fingers, moaning around them as he ran his tongue up and down the fingers. 

Using his other hand, Kenjaku pushed down the soft material of the pants he wore, freeing his cock. Quickly he lined himself up with Mahito’s pussy. Dragging the head of his cock through the folds before teasingly pressing the head inside slowly.

Mahito’s insides had never felt as warm as they did in this moment. Kenjaku wasn’t quite sure what Mahito had done to himself but the heat and pressure around his cock felt breathtaking. Shoving his fingers deeper into Mahito’s mouth, Kenjaku began fucking into the curse as Mahito sucked at his fingers.

It was much easier to fuck Mahito from this angle with his new organ placement, with him propped up on the pillows the position felt much more intimate. Mahito’s cock bouncing between their stomachs, leaking a mess onto both of them. Not as much of a mess as Mahito’s pussy though, Kenjaku could feel Mahito’s slick juices coating his balls and sticking to his thighs. He’d never seen Mahito so turned on.

The curse’s face was a mess as well, the fingers in his mouth causing him to drool down his chin. If Mahito could string together a cohesive thought, he would probably be wondering if he had given himself too many nerve endings. Without any clear direction on that, he’d just made his tight hole as sensitive as the head of his cock. Perhaps that’s why he felt so overwhelmed. 

Clenching around Kenjaku’s cock, Mahito felt himself pushed too far, he was already so close. The fingers in his mouth slipped out, allowing the curse’s moans to echo off the walls. 

Kenjaku leaned down, his tongue meeting Mahito’s in a sloppy, violent kiss. The warmth of having Kenjaku’s stomach trapping his cock against him was enough to make Mahito release, the sticky white fluid coating both of their chests. Kenjaku’s rough thrusts didn’t slow as Mahito’s pussy quivered around him, the motion enough to continue stimulating the cock trapped between their stomachs.

It was nearly impossible for Kenjaku to not fill Mahito up right then. The curse’s tight heat felt so good, like it was begging for him to stuff it full of his seed over and over until the curse bore fruit. Kenjaku bit Mahito’s lip, blood squirting into both of their mouths as he tried to hold out longer. While they could do this again, as many times as Kenjaku wanted, there was something about how lost in each other they both were that Kenjaku didn’t want to put an end to. 

Pulling away from Mahito’s blood stained lips, Kenjaku took another look at the mess the curse had become. Gathering some of Mahito’s release on his fingers, Kenjaku shoved them into Mahito’s mouth. Blood, spit, and cum mixing in what he was sure was a strange flavor to the curse. Mahito didn’t complain though, sucking diligently at the fingers.

“You’re such a filthy curse, but you made this pussy just for me to fuck and it feels so good. You feel so good Mahito, I’m going to fuck you until you’re bursting at the seems with a child for me,” Kenjaku rambled as he fucked into the curse. He could feel his thrusts becoming less measured and more violent, every time he bottomed out it was like Mahito’s pussy was trying to keep him inside.

Mahito’s mouth opened, causing Kenjaku’s fingers to fall from his lips and settle on his shoulder, giving him more leverage to fuck into the curse. Something about Kenjaku’s words struck a chord inside Mahito, as if there was more meaning to them than he realized.

“Just for you~!” Mahito whimpered, Kenjaku’s words still echoing in his head. The curse hadn’t even fully realized he spoke until Kenjaku’s sharp thrusts pressed even deeper inside him. His words cut off by another choked moan leaving his lips.

The thought of Mahito, swollen with his child and still taking him like this pushed him over the edge. Kenjaku’s hips stuttered as he filled Mahito full of his seed, burying his cock in as far as he could go to keep from losing any. 

Kenjaku didn’t pull out, though he knew he needed some time to recuperate, he kept his cock buried inside the curse. Reaching a hand down, he grabbed Mahito’s cock, still hard against his stomach despite getting off not long ago. Quickly Kenjaku stroked him, a squeal leaving Mahito’s throat as he hadn’t been expecting more stimulation. It only took a few pumps for Mahito to release again, filling Kenjaku’s hand with more of his juices.

Though their plans in Shibuya were fast approaching, Kenjaku didn’t mind spending a little extra time each day making sure he filled Mahito up first. It was going to be a long week for the curse.

[lucy-the-cat]

Priority List (Factoring in Poll)

Rereading the Iliad - I need to get Castor and Pollux's characterizations right, which means consulting the source material. On book 17, will prob finish in a week or two (hopefully a few days so I don't have to take out a new copy bc I'm returning home).

Writing Daughter of Zeus - still stuck on chapter six, making progress. Will prob take min all summer to get the first draft out

Answering asks - I'm almost finished with my backlog from a few months ago, just need to finish the swoonworthy mareven moments one which I need my copy of book one for that I left at home . . . so finishing up with a week or two bc I go home on wednesday. I did get one long ask recently and six more asks this morning and another one as I was typing this so this is still a priority but not really one I think I have to announce

Bday present for a friend - first priority after DoZ and the Iliad bc May has hit. Back up plan is to show her what I have of my first draft of DoZ if it's not finished by her bday, might show her anyway as a bonus lol, as well as what I have of my Hera poetry collection bc she wrote me a novel for MY birthday, which is insane (affectionate). With a few notes about some of the jank in it of course. Hopefully finished on Wednesday on the ride home (several hours, I'm not driving) but you won't see it til the end of May.

Stay in the Light - May 9th maybe? May 10th? physical classes have ended, papers due on the 5th, extension potentially to 6th with missing assignments due on the 10th

Rebel's Song - next chap by May 14th prob

Blood Deep - Same, or the 21st

Iron Will - the 17th? the 28th? we'll see

Second bday present for a friend - will start on the first day of June, will move to after DoZ on June 21st. Start of a fun longfic, will prob take a while to conclude. Trust me, you'll like it

Red Ruse first draft edits - finally at a place where I might make changes, we'll see. proper update (like a new chapter) by the end of June I think.

Red Ruin chapter one - First week of July at the earliest, but it won't be posted until the whole fic is halfway done.

Blood of the Covenant chapter three - Update by early June

God's Cursed - June 7th?

renegade - finish by June 14th I think, will save for Maven's Birthday

bad ideas and champagne bottles - idk june 21st? Mareven week day 5, pretty simple

Roman Holiday - I thought I would have more trouble writing this bc of my medical issues with NSFW stuff atm, but I've been scrolling through some NSFW tags and got ~ I N S P I R A T I O N ~, and I think I can combine them with some good character moments. Posted in June, maybe even May

Solar Eclipse chapter two - low-ish on the list, also in the process of discovery writing. update July 1st? Maybe before that

Jon POVs of Canon - shaping up to be a multi part series, like 3-5 oneshots. Will post one every week of October leading up to Halloween, so starting new ones in July. Finished first one lol

another friend bday gift - part of an ongoing series, might take a lot of words lol. Finish end of June? post in August

fourth friend bday gift - non rq fandom, mythology related, will share with her in August

first new Lover's Curse chapter - Beginning of July

Newblood Queen - pains me how low this one is on the list, but you voted. July 7th? 14th?

So like 12-14 (I counted like three different numbers) updates by July 14th scattered across that many fics (a lot of them are being saved for later/or are related to originals). I think I can do this now that I have free time and less pressure. Hopefully I get more out because I want to have some long fics finished by the end of the year . . . anyway

[vividrogue]

Life Updates~

Unrelated to most things here but I have news: I just came back from my first consultation for top surgery!

I'll probably need a double incision, which I figured anyway, but I'm glad to find out that my scars can be separate! The surgeon was very clear on setting up expectations for results and what I'm looking to tailor to my own body. I'm aiming for a very masculine cut/presentation and as flat as realistically possible with little visible scar tissue; I agree that scars are beautiful and show a person's journey, however, I know that I want little visibility for myself personally.

One thing that I wasn't aware of was apparently there is an additional surgical procedure that you can get to help hook up your nerve endings for the nipple grafts. I, of course, expect sensation to be altered by top surgery (especially double incision) but I do want to preserve sensation in the nips as much as possible!! I'll have to go to a separate consultation with a second surgeon but they'll both work on me the same day.

I lastly had some concerns with what pain medications I'll be prescribed; my family has a large, ugly history with opioid addiction and I desperately do not want to be apart of it. The surgeon was grateful that I brought it up and assured me that this procedure is very low risk for folks with these concerns, even for folks who are afraid of relapsing themselves are extremely low risk for this surgery. With that being said, he also made a note to have me on something that isn't as intensive (he said some medication that started with a T, but I can't quite remember the rest), it was comforting for me to have that concern recognized as this is something that literally keeps me up at night.

Now I wait! Literally can't do anything until the surgeon center and insurance people finish exchanging information on me, so I wait 1-2 weeks until my NEXT appointment where they'll draw on me or whatever (incision cuts). Really really REALLY hoping and praying that I can get on the slab before the end of the year!! I'll try give updates, if my anxiety doesn't convince me out of it.

I started this at the end of March this year so I'm glad all the waiting is finally paying off, I've been so fucking stressed out about it, it's not even funny. I'm so happy to finally be this close :,]

[mariana-oconnor]

The Illustrious Client pt 3

Had a busy weekend, so I'm one behind again, but where were we?

A hypnotised woman, a man so evil he wants everyone to know about it and he keeps a special scrapbook of his favourite evil moments for him to read in bed at night when he can't sleep. My favourite character is probably not going to be in it again, seeing as she failed to convince the guy's latest victim that he's a murdering arsehole, but I really hope she gets to stamp his face in with her boot. Y'know. As a treat.

Oh, and then someone tried to kill Holmes. There was a cliffhanger. I almost forgot about that.

The Illustrious Client on whose behalf Sherlock Holmes was consulted was anxious to prevent the marriage of the young, rich and beautiful Miss Violet de Merville to Baron Gruner, an unscrupulous adventurer.

Given some of the descriptions Watson has given of perfectly nice clients, I feel like 'unscrupulous adventurer' is such a milquetoast way of putting this. And also rather offensive to adventurers.

“I'm a bit of a single-stick expert, as you know. I took most of them on my guard. It was the second man that was too much for me.”

See, this is why I don't get why everyone insists on Watson being the action man of the pair. Holmes is out there whacking people with sticks. Watson occasionally shoots a dog.

No, I'm never going to be over that.

"They'll come to you for news. Put it on thick, Watson. Lucky if I live the week out—concussion—delirium—what you like! You can't overdo it.”

This is a definite step up from The Dying Detective where Holmes was convinced that if Watson knew he wasn't dying, he'd never be able to convince anyone of it. Has Watson's acting got better or has Holmes just realised that pretending to be dying is a dick move? Something tells me it isn't the first option. I don't think it's the second, either, if I'm honest. I feel like Holmes needs Watson to do something. But still, not lying to your best friend about dying. So proud of you.

“Yes. Tell Shinwell Johnson to get that girl out of the way. Those beauties will be after her now."

If anything bad happens to Kitty, I riot.

He pushed to an extreme the axiom that the only safe plotter was he who plotted alone.

Even so, he's still doing way better than he used to. We're all very proud of him.

It was simply that among the passengers on the Cunard boat Ruritania, starting from Liverpool on Friday, was the Baron Adelbert Gruner, who had some important financial business to settle in the States before his impending wedding to Miss Violet de Merville...

Apparently it was almost a week to get to the States on a liner in those days, which is less time than I thought, but also quite a while to spend travelling (2 weeks, there and back) right before your wedding. The wedding is not that imminent, I guess.

"Now, Watson, I want you to do something for me.” “I am here to be used, Holmes.”

“Well, then, spend the next twenty-four hours in an intensive study of Chinese pottery.” He gave no explanations and I asked for none. By long experience I had learned the wisdom of obedience.

On the one hand, this also shows growth, on the other, blindly following Holmes' instructions seems like a terrible idea in so. many. ways. But y'know, whatever floats their boats. Ours not to kink shame.

I was sucking in knowledge and committing names to memory. There I learned of the hall-marks of the great artist-decorators, of the mystery of cyclical dates, the marks of the Hung-wu and the beauties of the Yung-lo, the writings of Tang-ying, and the glories of the primitive period of the Sung and the Yuan.

“It needs careful handling, Watson. This is the real egg-shell pottery of the Ming dynasty. No finer piece ever passed through Christie's. A complete set of this would be worth a king's ransom..."

Will the priceless historic china survive? That's the real question.

"You may as well be a medical man, since that is a part which you can play without duplicity. You are a collector, this set has come your way, you have heard of the Baron's interest in the subject, and you are not averse to selling at a price.”

OK. okayokayokayokayokay. No.

If this guy knows who Holmes is. Then he should, therefore, know who Watson is, too. We have even had, in this very story, evidence that supports that because the colonel (whose name I can't remember right now) was like 'yes, of course Dr Watson should be involved toodle pip." (I added the toodle pip part, but the rest was accurate enough.)

So surely the guy who arranged for Holmes to be murdered - who is apparently tracking down Kitty to murder her, too - surely he should know who Watson is. Therefore either this is a double bluff and Holmes is knowingly sending Watson into a danger that has already tried to claim his own life or he doesn't think that his opponent is smart enough to connect his enemy to their best friend who writes about them frequently and who has been visiting him daily since the attack.

If he turns out to be right and the baron doesn't recognise Watson immediately, I will be further annoyed at his incompetence.

On the same evening, with the precious saucer in my hand and the card of Dr. Hill Barton in my pocket, I set off on my own adventure.

Oh really? Like... an adventurer, would you say?

The place had been built by a South African gold king in the days of the great boom, and the long, low house with the turrets at the corners, though an architectural nightmare, was imposing in its size and solidity.

Glad to see Watson turning his scathing judgements to architecture as well as people. It was... it was a very solid building. It had that going for it.

He was certainly a remarkably handsome man. His European reputation for beauty was fully deserved. In figure he was not more than of middle size, but was built upon graceful and active lines. His face was swarthy, almost Oriental, with large, dark, languorous eyes which might easily hold an irresistible fascination for women. His hair and moustache were raven black, the latter short, pointed, and carefully waxed. His features were regular and pleasing, save only his straight, thin-lipped mouth. If ever I saw a murderer's mouth it was there—a cruel, hard gash in the face, compressed, inexorable, and terrible. He was ill-advised to train his moustache away from it, for it was Nature's danger-signal, set as a warning to his victims.

Oh my god. Watson. Watson. Quite being so horny on main. I am begging you. Stop ogling the man. And he can't help the way his moustache is away from his mouth - it's all the twirling.

"I would ask you what do you know of the Emperor Shomu and how do you associate him with the Shoso-in near Nara? Dear me, does that puzzle you? Tell me a little about the Northern Wei dynasty and its place in the history of ceramics.” I sprang from my chair in simulated anger.

Watson. Watson. My dude. My man. My good sir. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK was the point of you learning everything there is to know about Chinese pottery if you're not even going to bother to answer his motherfucking questions? What even is this? What was the point? WHY?

I mean, I'm pretty sure he knew who you were from the moment you sent the letter but even so. Even so! I can't get annoyed about him not committing to the bit when you're out here not even trying to commit to any of it.

Two steps took me to the open door, and my mind will ever carry a clear picture of the scene within. The window leading out to the garden was wide open. Beside it, looking like some terrible ghost, his head girt with bloody bandages, his face drawn and white, stood Sherlock Holmes.

Well, I was right. It was a double bluff. Watson was the distraction, cool cool. He was rubbish at it, but at least Holmes knew he was going to fail.

An arm—a woman's arm—shot out from among the leaves. At the same instant the Baron uttered a horrible cry—a yell which will always ring in my memory. He clapped his two hands to his face and rushed round the room, beating his head horribly against the walls. Then he fell upon the carpet, rolling and writhing, while scream after scream resounded through the house.

The features which I had admired a few minutes before were now like some beautiful painting over which the artist has passed a wet and foul sponge.

So that's why you went on about how hot he was. For the contrast. Gotcha.

Obviously this is terrible and throwing acid in people's faces is awful and horrible etc.

On the other hand, I support Kitty Winter and she's never done anything wrong ever in her life.

"It was that hell-cat, Kitty Winter!”

“It is his love diary?”

You say that like it's a normal thing.

???

"I knew I had only a few minutes in which to act, for my time was limited by your knowledge of Chinese pottery."

Holmes' perennial lack of faith in Watson's abilities is as sad as it is earned.

But he didn't even use his knowledge of Chinese pottery. He didn't even try.

“But if these injuries are as terrible as Dr. Watson describes, then surely our purpose of thwarting the marriage is sufficiently gained without the use of this horrible book.”

Wow, you think very little of Violet. I also think very little of her, but honestly, I'm pretty sure this isn't a deal breaker for her. Just say you think she's shallow and fickle, why don't you?

The same paper had the first police-court hearing of the proceedings against Miss Kitty Winter on the grave charge of vitriol-throwing. Such extenuating circumstances came out in the trial that the sentence, as will be remembered, was the lowest that was possible for such an offence.

Good for her.

...when an object is good and a client is sufficiently illustrious, even the rigid British law becomes human and elastic.

YAY! CORRUPTION!!

🥳🥳🥳

What a weird note to end it on. But the day was saved, I guess. Weirdly as it was. Violet de Merville presumably went on to continue to be a supercilious nightmare of a woman and Baron Adelbert Gruner was punished with *checks notes* disfigurement and blindness... so I guess that's a happy ending?

idek.

I'm glad Kitty got to fuck him up, though. That was very satisfying.

[ralith]

Humanformers retired trio

This is a sad question. You mentioned that Ratchet died earlier from the disease. The question is, how did they find out about the disease? How exactly did he react and how did Optimus and Ironhide react? I imagine that the night they found out about the disease, Optimus and Ironhide hugged, kissed and probably cried all night. And towards the sad end, they were afraid to leave Ratchet's side and took turns keeping vigil by his side. I know it's sad, but I really need to know. 😢

I've decided there are two endings to this AU. The good ending, where they live happily together until the end, where old age took them in quick succession.

Then there's the bad timeline, where Ratchet dies of cancer, Ironhide of heart failure, and Optimus lives into his 90s, alone and depressed.

By the time Ratchet learned he had cancer, it was stage 4 metastatic.

At first he attributed the slight weakness he was feeling to age. The slight loss of appetite he contributed to the fact he didn't feel like eating massive meals at this point in his life. Even the pain in his abdomen came and went, and Ratchet passed it off as a result of sleeping wrong.

That was until Chromia took him aside one day while the trio was hanging with friends. She asked him very pointedly if he was okay. Not a "how have you been?" okay, but "you don't look well" okay.

Chromia was never one to mince words. She cared for Ratchet and mentioned how much weight he had lost. His face was looking more sunken. He was holding himself differently, his posture changing, something Ratchet hadn't noticed but now he realized he was compensating for the pain which every day was becoming more persistent.

She even mentioned his breathing seemed a bit labored, and somewhere in the medic's brain he was suddenly piecing things together. He had brushed everything off, but if others were taking notice...

As he mulled over Chromia's observations that night, a heaviness settled in his gut. He was a surgeon. He knew what this could mean. How could he have not seen it sooner?

One oncologist visit turned into four. Each blood test and scan and consultation relaying the same information.

Ratchet was barely listening to the specialists. He knew what he was looking at. Cancer on his pancreas had spread to his liver and lungs. There were too many tumors to operate.

He was going to die.

Ratchet had gone to these appointments alone, afraid yet to tell his husbands. He wanted to be sure, and not scare them with false positives.

It was a simple Wednesday evening when Ratchet broke the news after dinner. An otherwise uneventful day had preceded it. But it was a night Optimus and Ironhide would never forget.

Ironhide asked, rather angrily and incredulously, if this was a sick joke. But Ratchet held firm. He had the results on hand and showed the two the masses that had invaded his organs.

Optimus was silent the whole time Ratchet explained. A million regrets played in his brain, from not saying "I love you" enough, to letting Ratchet slip through his fingers and into Lockdown's arms all those years ago.

When he found his voice, his words were thick and strained.

"How long, Ratchet?"

"A year. If I'm lucky. But...three, maybe four months."

While Ratchet was in bed that night, Ironhide and Optimus sat on the porch looking at the stars. Ironhide was ranting angrily. At the situation, at himself for not noticing Ratchet's declining health. For all the years they had planned together snuffed out like a sputtering candle.

He lashed out at Optimus for the other man's silence, only stopping when he saw tears spilling over Optimus's cheeks in the moonlight.

"You are not the only one grieving, Ironhide."

In the following weeks, the cancer grew further, sapping Ratchet's strength. He barely wanted to eat. He was in constant pain as the tumors pressed on surrounding tissue. His breathing became more labored.

Ironhide and Optimus made sure to be at Ratchet's side as much as possible as Ratchet began to fade.

Then one morning, Ironhide and Optimus could barely believe as Ratchet strode out of the bedroom holding his head high. He sat at the table and devoured a full stack of his favorite pancakes cooked by Optimus. Eggs, bacon, two glasses of juice. He packed it away.

His husbands were hesitant to be optimistic at such a turnaround, but they couldn't help it. Ratchet hadn't eaten like that in months!

For the rest of the day, they marathoned Ratchet's favorite movies, the medic tucked in a cocoon of blankets with Ironhide and Optimus on either side of him. They laughed and nuzzled and kissed, petting over each other in the gentlest of touches and played footsy like they were teenagers again.

The day seemed to drag on, and in hindsight, Ironhide and Optimus would be glad for that.

They snuggled into bed together that night, Ratchet between them. They exchanged kisses again, over ears, lips, noses.

And as Ratchet slipped off to sleep, he uttered what would be his final "I love you."