#tw mentioned near death experience

[serickswrites]

Make Me Your Villain XII

Master list here (complete with chapter links, summaries, and character bios)

Warnings: referenced heart break, referenced near death experience, pain

In the weeks since Liam had broken up with her, Nova had barely seen Liam. The first week, Henry assured Nova that Liam was mostly sleeping in his room, no doubt still recovering from almost dying even though Nova had healed him. But by the middle of the second week, Nova began to suspect that Liam was avoiding her. Maybe he needed time to adjust to only being friends again. She knew she did. Nova threw herself into the research. They still needed to find a way to stop Jude since going to head to head didn’t always work out successfully. She hadn’t spent much time in the library solo and so being there day in and day out by herself was kind of nice. She had time to think. And time to learn.

The first thing Nova did when she sat down to research was learn about herself. She wasn’t so certain that Liam was right when he said she could be immortal. Nova was shocked to learn that healing powers, though rare, weren’t unheard of. That there were very likely several thousand people worldwide living with the same power she had.

Liam was right. With enough training and increase in stamina, there wasn’t anything her cells couldn’t heal. They were always in a state of repair and regrowth. “Jude can’t kill me, you idiot,” she said as she poured herself another cup of coffee. Liam had dumped her for nothing.

“You need more training to get there,” Henry said as he sat down across from her. “You’ll get there. And then maybe Liam will get his head out of his ass. But until then, Nova, you have to keep working on yourself.” Henry winced as he leaned back in the chair.

“Back giving you issues, old man?” Nova said as she watched Henry struggle to get comfortable in his seat.

“I am not that old. And no, it’s not my back it’s—“ “Sciatica. I can fix that.” Nova said with a smile.

“Well go on then. Since you’re getting better at sensing what’s wrong, what else needs healing in me?” Henry smirked.

Nova stared at him. Really stared at him. She felt the ghost of a headache behind her eyes. Some stiffness in her hips. And a twinge in her sciatic nerve. She had been delighted to learn that she could sense the pain and ills in others and that it would make her a more effective healer. She wouldn’t have to rely on civilians or Liam telling her where the pain was. She could just feel it.

She began to glow, enveloping Henry in a glowing light. “It’ll be all better in just a moment, Henry. You’ll feel shiny, fresh, and new.”

Henry gave a sigh of relief. “Oh that is the good stuff. Thanks.” He stood up.

“Did you come in here just so I would heal you?” Nova looked up at him with an arched brow.

“Oh absolutely. I live with a healer. No more need to beg Liam to teleport me to the urgent care. Or drive an hour to Oxwell. Not when I have a resident healer!” Henry gave a big grin.

“You could have just asked! I would have healed you! HEY!” Nova called after Henry’s rapidly retreating back. “Asshole,” she muttered as she pulled the next book towards her.

The book was a handwritten journal from Liam’s dad. She wasn’t sure she should be reading it, but it was a research journal, and it was in the library. Maybe it would have the information she needed to look in the other piles of book to find what they needed to know about Jude.

She was wrong.

The journal, as it turns out, was a combination of research and personal writings. And it was all about Liam and shadow wielding. Nova put the book down. “I shouldn’t be reading this. I should definitely put this away and go outside. Go anywhere,” she said out loud to herself, as though hearing the words would help her convince her conscience to do the right thing.

But Nova didn’t leave. She picked up the book again and read. Maybe it would help her be a better partner in the field to Liam if she understood the mechanism of his powers.

He has my eyes, Liam’s father’s bold handwriting said, but he’s got his mother’s hair. He’s absolutely perfect. Never in my life did I think it was possible to love something more than the love of my life, but the moment the doctor put Liam in my arms, I knew I was wrong. I would do anything, absolutely anything, for this perfect baby.

Nova couldn’t help but smile as she read about Liam. About his father’s absolute adoration of Liam and Liam’s mother.

I should have realized he was different early on. I should have noticed the signs. Not that it would have changed anything. But I would have been more prepared. The house seemed darker when his mother was pregnant. I thought it was just the time of year, just my age and my eye sight getting worse. The moment he entered the world, the shadows took shape more than they ever had before. It was almost as though they were living, breathing beings that followed him everywhere.

I had never heard of shadow wielding. Never knew it was possible. Which is funny coming from a lightning wielder. But his mother is a normal. How was I to know that our son would have powers that I never even dreamed about before? I must seek the literature on this. Surely someone has seen this before.

Nova was surprised. Even Liam’s dad, the person with this extensive library on powered individuals, hadn’t heard of shadow wielding. How did Liam have the power? Where did it come from? And what was the extent?

Liam can use his shadows to pull himself between this plane and the next and back again. Nova read in the journal a few days later. Liam was two. There wasn’t much progress in Liam’s dad’s search for the history of shadow wielding, but Liam’s powers were growing at a rapid rate. I lost him for three hours yesterday. Fortunately his mother wasn’t home or who knows how she would have reacted. He was there with me in the garden one minute and I turned my back to grab the ball he had thrown and then he wasn’t.

I looked everywhere. Absolutely everywhere outside. But he was nowhere. I was ready to go inside and call for the police when I heard him laughing in the conservatory. How had he gotten there?

He teleported again when we were putting him to bed. This time I wasn’t alone. But I was able to calm his mother quickly. He hadn’t gone far—just back to the conservatory. He loves music so much, no doubt from the hours of listening to his mother play. Maybe he will be a musician like her one day.

Teleporting was an extension of his shadow wielding. Nova would have never made that connection. But reading it, it made sense. The in between was dark, made up of shadow and air, nothing solid.

“You never told me that teleporting was an extension of shadow wielding,” Nova said as she sat across from Liam at the breakfast table the next morning.

It was the first meal they had shared since he had broken up with her. Nova came into the kitchen that morning, fully expecting him to teleport away when she walked in, but he hadn’t. He merely set a full mug of coffee already made the way she liked it and said, “Good morning.”

“You never asked,” he replied as he sipped his tea. “I take it you found my father’s journal. Well, the early one,” he said cringing. “So embarrassing.”

“But it’s cool to read. Your dad hadn’t even heard of the ability. I wonder how that works,” she mused as she pulled the box of cereal towards her.

“I don’t know. I…I don’t know how far he got in his research.”

“But you have read most of those books.”

“I’ve read his research on healing and on soul-suckers. Not shadow wielding. I don’t need to read about that, it isn’t relevant.” He took another long sip from his mug.

“But what if he found something your powers could grow into that we could use as a weapon against Jude? We would never know since you didn’t bother to read! Come on, Liam, don’t you want to know about yourself?”

Liam shook his head. “I’ll read his research on shadow wielding once Jude’s been stopped. Besides,” he put his mug down, “I have a pretty good handle on my powers as it is.”

Nova opened her mouth to reply, but she was alone in the kitchen again. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t have my head up my ass and don’t mind doing the research for you!” She called knowing that somehow he would still hear her. He always did.

Tags: @dutifullykrispyland@jesssmolfur@parad0xical2@st0rmm@keeper-of-all-the-random-things@pigeonwhumps@gala1981@allylovessweets @whumpitywhumpwhump @

[indulgentdaydream]

Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)

anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.

Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.

Out of the Bag

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.

Word Count: 1,862

Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use

You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.

“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.

That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.

You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.

“Princess,” he sounded panicked.

Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”

You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”

The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.

You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”

He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.

That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.

You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”

“I’m tired,” you mumbled.

It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.

“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.

You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.

He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”

You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.

Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.

He’ll apologize when you wake up.

When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.

No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.

His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.

Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.

“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”

Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.

That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”

Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”

Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.

There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”

��Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”

Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.

Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.

He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”

Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”

A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”

Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”

Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.

He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.

Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.

He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.

The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.

There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.

Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.

“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.

Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”

Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”

Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”

Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”

Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”

A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”

Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.

“Are they seriously listening right now?”

Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”

Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”

Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”

Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.

Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”

“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”

“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“

“What’s going on…?”

Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”

“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.

Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.

You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”

Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”

“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”

Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”

You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.

From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.

“Out!”

Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”

[shsl-leader]

system doubt is so funny. i figured this out over a year ago. my family knows. apparently i talked to "voices in my head" as a child. i have had near death experiences and still could not imagine the body as anything except the current fronter. but what if too many fictive??? system fake because im all fictive????? i cant Enjoy Media and have Disorder, brain too Stupid.

[jokerislandgirl32]

Guilt, Hope, and Gratitude

@foolsworldsblog asked this question in response to this post ⬇️

JIG Message: For this answer I’m placing it below a cut because it is filled with angst/depressing topics, discussions of pregnancy, stillbirth, loss of child, childbirth and delivery, and near death experiences. Nothing is explained in explicit or gory detail, but please do not proceed further if you are uncomfortable with such topics.

Zach’s Response

Well, this is a little hard to answer, technically we have two first borns. We have Alexandria, who is our first born but was stillborn. Then we have Varina who is our oldest earthbound child, and the first one born to survive birth/infancy. If that makes sense. Both times I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt when each child was delivered. 

With Alexandria we knew she wasn’t going to be born alive, I had to watch Violet endure a horrible and emotional labor and delivery only to have our child enter the world without ever taking her first breath or making one cry. Although the doctors informed us that it was nothing Violet or I had done wrong to cause the stillbirth, I still blamed myself for it.

I felt guilty because I couldn’t take Violet’s emotional and physical pain away. I felt guilty because our beautiful little girl never had a chance at life. I felt guilty because I hadn’t taken precautions, and I’d gotten Violet pregnant when her body was not ready for the pregnancy. Even after we took Violet to the doctor, monitored her health, and made sure she took the medication needed to ensure the safety of the pregnancy…we lost Alexandria. 

I held Alexandria after she was born, I named her, I talked to her…I didn’t want to let her go…But Violet was so distraught she couldn’t hold her or even look at her for the longest time. When the hospital staff came to take her, Violet finally gathered up the courage to hold her and look at her, and I’ve never heard Violet cry like that in my life, it absolutely destroyed me, and I’ll never get over that feeling of guilt and pain as long as I live. 

Varina’s birth elicited much of the same guilt ridden feelings. Violet went into premature labor and delivered Varina in the Tortuga with the help of the Wild Rats. Violet passed out due to complications shortly after Varina’s birth, and Varina was barely breathing. 

While I held Varina after she was born, it felt like it did with Alexandria all over again. I’d gotten Violet pregnant, I’d know the fragile state of her body, I’d known the hectic schedule I’d been putting us through with all of my villainous deeds wasn’t good for Violet while carrying this beautiful rainbow baby. But I’d done it anyway. And watching both of my girls struggle, fearing I’d lose another daughter and the love of my life filled me with nothing but absolute remorse and dread. 

But, holding Varina those few moments before we arrived at the hospital, seeing this tiny little bundle, the physical embodiment of mine and Violet’s love, gave me a sense of hope and extreme gratitude. I knew if Varina made it to this point and survived the birth, she’d make it in the end. 

I was so grateful that even though I’d made so many terrible decisions, Violet delivered this child alive, and Violet was still alive. I had hope that they make it, I prayed they’d make it, and in the end, they did.

So, for me fatherhood started out with feelings of sorrow and guilt, but it developed into feelings of immense joy, hope, and gratitude. It changed me for the better, and I am so thankful for the family Violet and I have created. 

POV: Guilty Me.

-Zach Varmitech-

[ofvolatile]

//   (  oktay  çubuk  .  cis  man  .  he  /  him  )  .    ⸻  taylan yalçınkaya ,  a  twenty-six  year  old  ,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  almost  their  entire  life  .  the  dirtbag is known  for  being  headstrong  and  volatile  and  is  often  associated  with  sorrow lurking in a ferric heart as it beats stubbornly ,  crimson  stained  &  battered  bruised  knuckles  , and   all the charm and temperament of a junkyard dog .  in  a  small  town  where  they  work  as  the  co - owner of amrak grocery store  &  professional hockey player for  the  nhl  word  travels  fast  .  it’s  hard  to  keep  a  secret  ,  and  it  looks  like  the  boogeyman  knows  that  redacted  . 

𝗜 . STATISTICS

full name : taylan deniz yalçınkaya . nickname : tay & knuckles by hockey fans because of his eagerness to fight . age : twenty - six , april 18 1998 . horoscope : aries . gender + pronouns : cis male he / him . orientation : biromantic , bisexual . place of birth : red creek , michigan where he lived for twenty - years , but he moved to vancouver six years ago for his sports career . career : professional ice hockey player for the vancouver canucks ( played 5 seasons as right wing player , fighter & enforcer for the team ) currently on suspension . he is also the co - owner of a family run business , amrak grocery store . siblings : twin sister selın yalçınkaya . parents : father is a police officer , and mother is the founder of the grocery store . partner : single . children : none . living arrangements : he has an apartment in vancouver , but in red creek he lives with his twin sister . positive traits : headstrong , brave , spontaneous , social . negative traits : volatile , impulsive , reckless , defiant . moral alignment : chaotic neutral . hair color : brown . eye color : hazel . height : five foot ten . tattoos : a bunch of small scattered stick & poke tattoos , and one big back tattoo , see pinterest . piercings : both lobes , tongue , double on his right eyebrow . scars : with hockey being a violent sport , he has a lot of scars , but the most notable ones are , the cut between his left eyebrow from a fight , where hair won't grow anymore & the scar on his throat where he was accidentally cut by a player's skates , its 10 centimeters long and it took one hundred and fifty stitches to close his wound .

𝗜𝗜 . BACKGROUND

trigger warnings for injury , near - death experience , trauma , drug abuse , toxic sport environment & abusive relationships . - his parents named him taylan , hoping he would be as gracious as the name that he carried , but he quickly proofed to be a difficult child , and by the time he was a teenager , all he had ever done was creating problems for himself : underage drinking , trespassing , vandalism , settling any and all disputes with violence . he was a regular at the police station , only made more awkward because his father is a police officer . the father and son never had a healthy relationship . with his narcissism and superiority complex his father held a tight ship in the household , with strict rules and high expectations that taylan had no interest in meeting . - start trigger warning brief mention of emotional abuse . a cop with big dreams of being the sheriff one day . his parents have always been very involved in the community of red creek , which his father flaunts to make himself seem like a good person , hoping it will increase his chances of becoming the town sheriff . however , he never got the position and to this day the subject remains a sore spot for him , looking everywhere else except within and taking it out on his son , blaming his bad reputation around town for staining the family's name . end of warning . - taylan's interest in hockey came at the age of five in the garage of his childhood home where he would shoot pucks in a make-shift goal . as he grew older the sport became an outlet for him to let out that aggression for the way his father treated him . he was part of the hockey team at school and immediately after graduation taylan started playing for the junior hockey league ( his first step towards reaching the big leagues ) , while his twin sister was their father's favorite , taylan was their mother's , and he needed her to sign the contracts since he was still underage . it was one year later , that he got drafted for the NHL when an incident led him to jump into opposing bench in an attempt to fight with the opposing players , whose team was in the lead . after the game ended , he was approached by scouts who were impressed by his courage , and drafted him for the vancouver canucks . by this time taylan had become completely independent from his family , and the only one he was staying in contact with was his twin sister . sick of living in their small town that felt more like a prison then a home , he made the decision to leave his life behind .

- start trigger warning . away from red creek and in the big city were his best years of his life , doing what he loved the most . however , everything came to a crashing halt during his last match . after colliding with a opponent , taylan got his throat cut by the player's skate blades , lacerating his carotid artery . the accident was traumatizing for him ; bleeding out on the ice , thinking that he would die . taylan needed hundred fifty stitches to close up the wound . less then a week later and still not fully healed mentally , his coach saw him fit enough to play again . the relationship taylan had with his coach was a toxic one , and abusive , that combined with taylan's own competitiveness had him biting his tongue . he was used to the years of verbal abuse from his father , and instead he let out all his anger out on the ice . however , after the accident his performance had noticeably declined . while abusing pain killers was not something unspoken in their field , developing a problem for them and testing positive for hard drugs before a match was not something they could ignore . the manager of the team saw him as a liability , casted him out as a black sheep , despite his own coach enabling his harmful habit for so long . they had the pr team working overtime to hide the suspension stating that his current absence is because of his injury . end of warning . - needing to rest his injury out and bitter over how things went down . taylan is back in his hometown where his relationship with his father still is on bad terms . he helps his twin out as selın takes over the store from their mother's hand , anything to make up for the time he been away . no one knows about his suspension , and the team likes to keep it that way ( but if they are sport fans they could have seen the accident when it aired on tv , that part is not a secret ! ) HOWEVER , this is not the secret that the boogeyman knows of course , there is something else he's hiding hehe .

𝗜𝗜𝗜 . HEADCANONS

1 . ) trigger warning for abusing painkillers . while taylan has a high pain tolerance , he still uses medication to treat the injuries he has acquired during his years of playing hockey . the pills were basically handed out by his coach like tic tacs , pushing him to play more games despite his chronic injuries . definitely not a healthy work environment . his suspension has put him in the NHL players assistance program that helps him deal with his trauma , which also comes with frequent drug test , so outside of prescribed painkillers and sleeping pills , he tries to not use anything else , because he wants to get back on the ice as soon as he can . 2 . ) he doesn't have a healthy sleep schedule . it started back in his teenage years . when he was staying out all night and past his curfew , and it only got worse with his disruptive schedule as a hockey player where the matches ends at ten and the adrenaline keeps him up all night , flying of to the next match the following day . when he can get some rest , he likes to take afternoon naps . 3 . ) he has a bunch of stick & poke tattoos on his arms . there was a phase back in high school when he wanted to be a tattoo artist and practiced it on himself . 4 . ) he likes to collect zippo lighters and has a nasty habit of smoking cigarettes . tried stopping multiple times by chewing on tobacco , but always falls back to smoking .

𝗜𝗜𝗜𝗜 . CONNECTION & WANTED * work in progress .

selın yalçınkaya his twin sister . tba . cousin from mother's side ( see wanted connection here ) . more to be added .

[fangirls-fanfiction]

Sooooooo after I wrote the chapter of my other story: 'A Contract; A Relationship' I started writing other short stories about what life was like for both Queen Dice and Luci and how their relationship developed before the main plot line of the show or the game. So I decided to make another story for it lol.

Yes, this is based on my genderbent/humanized au blog on Tumblr, though it does take place before it.

This first part is just that chapter that inspired this whole story (and a little extra st the end) just so no one gets confused lol

Enjoy! ^^

Story below undercut:

Even as they yelled after her, she ran. Even as she heard the sounds of gunshots, she ran. Even as her legs begged her to stop, she ran. She couldn't stop, it was between life or death.

In an attempt to lose them, she dashed down an alleyway. Turning around to see if the coast was clear, another gunshot fired just as she tripped and fell.

It was the end if the line. She scrambled to get up, only tripping and falling over once more. Such bad luck, tripping not once but twice; going down an alleyway with no way out; trying to pickpocket a man whilst not knowing he was the leader of a gang.

Such bad, bad luck. That's all she was good for, bad luck.

"Nowhere to run now, lil lady."

"I'm— I'm sorry! Please! I didn't mean any harm... I'm just so far away from home and I have nothing... I promise it won't happen again!" She begged for their mercy.

"There ain't no such thing as 'forgiving' in this here town. Besides, don't you know not to take things that don't belong to you?"

"Of course! I'm sorry! Here!" She tossed him his wallet. "Really! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to— "

"Too late for that, lil lady."

All four silhouettes aimed their guns at her, the girl shielding her face as she braced for impact.

But instead, she heard one of the guys screaming.

Quickly uncovering her eyes, she watched in horror as one of the gang members was caught ablaze by some unknown force. After he was scorched to ashes, another one's gun blew up in his face, causing him to fall over and his body catch in fire. The leader and one other man stood alone as a cloud of purple smoke and bright spark appeared in between the girl and the gangsters.

As the smoke cleared, she watched in horror as they all recognized who had joined them in the alleyway.

"Hello boys." The Devil sneered.

Wasting no time, the two gangsters shot at the demon, only seeming to knock her back slightly. With a snap of her fingers, the barrels of both of their guns were bent, pointing directly at them.

"Shoot another damn bullet... I fucking dare you." The Devil spoke darkly.

The two gang members ran off, the Devil still standing with her back to the girl. She had no idea what the demon had in store for her. She herself had never seen a four person gang turn to a two person gang run off from one person. Not only that, but she was the Devil. Her purpose was to cause misery and break mortals' dreams and create chaos. Who knows what she was planning for her now that the gang was gone. It didn't matter how many times those gang members had shot her, she was the Devil.

Though, as the demon stood there, the girl became less and less convinced. The gang had surely shot her more than a dozen times, but she was immortal, she would be fine. Right...?

Swaying back and forth slightly, the Devil finally fell to the ground with a thud. Her trident clanked to the cement, bouncing just out of her reach. Not that she was reaching for it, she didn't move a muscle after she fell to the ground.

Taking that as a miracle, the girl hurried out of the alleyway and past the fallen demon. Coming to the end of it, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Devil or not, the demon had saved her life and here she was running off without so much as a thank you. She turned around a bit, the demon still not moving. Walking back into the alley a few steps, she stopped when she felt she was far enough away that she could run if the Devil were to wake up.

"Are... Are you ok...?" She asked, her voice echoing in the alleyway.

But the Devil didn't react whatsoever.

"Ma'am, are you ok?" She said more confidently, taking one more step closer.

Still nothing.

Just then, she saw it. A large wound on the Demon's hip, swimming in blood. Panicking, she looked around as if someone was nearby who could help. But at this time of night, the streets were desolate. Not one person. Just her and the Devil.

Kneeling down to be more level with the demon, she felt a sharp pain near her stomach. Immediately placing a hand over it, her white glove turned red from the blood of the bullet wound.

'I didn't dodge the bullet...' She stared in complete horror.

Snapping back to reality, she noticed that the demon's wound was only getting worse by the minute.

Untying her neckscarf, she was hesitant to actually follow through with this plan. This was the Devil after all. Glancing at her face, the girl let out a sigh before letting out a deep breath and began dabbing the blood to hopefully control the bleeding. Her father had taught her a bit about first aide- But nothing about demon blood. Not that she thought that she'd ever need it; in the 20 years of her life, she never once thought that her first encounter with the Devil would be like this. So she handled this situation as she would for a human. Applying pressure, she finally took another glance at the demon. Able to concentrate on her appearance now, she was almost surprised. Aside from the horns and tail, the Devil looked pretty... Average. Despite all the stories she had heard, the Devil's appearance seemed to contradict almost all of them. The demon almost looked friendly, but she should've known better. The demon most likely used this form to trick people. Though fallen down on the ground unconscious and bleeding, the Devil looked rather defenseless. Not in a negative light, but in a damsel in distress kind of way. She'd almost call her beautiful, though that just felt... Odd. Pretty or not, she was still the Devil. Like, the mistress of all Evil and the Queen of Hell.

Turning back to the wound, her efforts hardly seemed to be working. Her neck scarf appeared to have hardly done anything. Putting the scarf aside, she looked around. Panic setting in, she realized that she had no idea how to deal with this effectively.

She jumped at a quiet groan, the Devil's eyes blinked open to a narrow slit. Her eyes were an empty, yet oddly beautiful, shade of gold. Glowing in the darkness, her eyes fixed on the girl, the girl freezing in place. Though the demon seemed less angry and more confused. Unfocused. Like she was trying to remember what had happened. Hesitantly, the demon sat up, the girls falling backwards and backing away. She coughed as blood entered her lungs, making her fall back against the brick wall of the alleyway. She struggled to breathe, as she watched the Devil stand without much effort and go to her trident.

With a single strike to the ground, the magic of the demon's trident had healed her wound. She glanced back at the girl, who panicked, trying to explain herself but instead threw herself into a coughing fit, falling to the ground.

"You're a Dice, I presume?" The Devil knelt down to be level with her. "I'd recognize that dapper clothing anywhere."

"Go away— " She started, coughing once more.

"I see they got you pretty good." The Devil ignored her comment.

Unable to speak and verbally tell her to go, the girl mustered up all her strength to swing at the Devil, the demon easily catching her fist.

"Listen, this is important, I can help you... For a price." The Devil let go of her hand. "Judging by the fact that you're inhaling your own blood, you've only got a few minutes." She went on. "You can either die here or let me help you; for the small price of working for me under a contract."

The girl sat up, opening her mouth to speak, only to fall right back over in a coughing fit.

The Devil extended out her hand for a handshake, awaiting her to take the deal. Barely able to breath, her vision began to get fuzzy as she stared at the Devil's hand. Using what was left of her strength, she took the chance, agreeing to the deal and shaking the Devil's hand.

Not even a moment later, her lungs cleared, giving her a chance to breath once more. Feeling around where her wound once was, she was relieved to see that it was gone. She was ok. She wasn't going to die.

Her gaze redirected to the Devil to thank her for what she had done, however, her heart sank as she stared right at a contract and a quill.

"That's an awful lot of fine print."

"Don't worry about it, no one reads it anyway." The Devil placed a pen in her hand.

"I..."

"Don't go back on your word now... I hate it when people go back on their word." The Devil growled.

Nodding quickly, she hesitantly signed the contract, the shimmery, gold parchment disappearing with a spark as her own left the paper.

"There we are, the deal is done and the oath is sealed." The Devil sneered. "Welcome aboard, Miss Queen Dice."

♠️ ♠️ ♠️

Queen Dice sat in her seat by the office door. This was the worst thing to happen to her. Between all of the trials and tribulations she'd endured her whole life, this one certainly took the cake as the worst. She couldn't imagine what the Devil had in store for her. What she'd be doing for the rest of her life, in this awful place.

Taking a look around, her eyes gazed up at the towering walls of brimstone. Deep into the pits of hell and among the demons and the sinners. She'd always tried to be a good person, despite where she came from.

She was a good person, right?

Trying to keep her mind off of it, Dice glanced down the corridor. Though she was specifically told to stay in this spot the Devil left her in, her curiosity was piqued. Glancing at the door, Queen Dice stood from the seat, starting down the corridor.

If this would be where she would be trapped for the rest of eternity, she might as well get a look around. The Devil wouldn't even notice that she was gone.

[petrifiedcrange]

❝ The ship can't survive without its unicorn, Iz, ❞ Frenchie says quietly yet matter-of-factly as he wipes Izzy's feverish brow with a cool cloth, lingering for a moment to brush a loose strand off before turning to the side to soak the warmed up cloth in the bowl of cool water again, both his voice and gestures an aching mix of exhaustion, sadness and tenderness, ❝ We'll crash and burn before we ever reach another shore. ❞

There are tears welling in his eyes and he doesn't want Izzy to see them, doesn't want to distress his already overtaxed system even more, so he takes an extra moment to wring the cloth over the bowl while blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears.

And yet, a sob weasels its way into his words as he adds, almost an afterthought ( that sounds far more bitter than it has any right to be ):

❝ I thought you knew that. ❞

[ OPEN for Izzy post-S2 because ouizzy is something else entirely as a ship and I need more of them and because this phrase about the ship and its figurehead/unicorn appeared in my head and I thought that it would suit Frenchie the most because if someone knows about mythical symbolism of figureheads etc, it’s him also, he's upset his boyfriend seems to be giving up ]

[mad-hunts]

this is a very specific scenario, i know, but barton trauma-bonding with a hero and vice versa because they got stuck in the middle of the desert together due to the fact that they were both simultaneously betrayed / LEFT TO DIE there, but they managed to survive after they spent some time vehemently refusing to help each other in the beginning. though, they soon began to help each other (albeit reluctantly) because they realized that would be the ONLY way that they would survive this. and barton tries to kickstart their bastardization arc™ by telling the hero to kill the people who dumped them there. and this is because, in his mind, they don't deserve to live. then barton goes on to tell them that he's planning on killing the person who betrayed him so it's fineee if the hero does it,, because he ain't a snitch + won't tell anyone they killed anyone (,: now whether or not the hero actually starts their bastardization arc is up to them, of course, but if anyone is interested in a plot like this... HMU because i think this would be such an interesting dynamic to roleplay 👀

[kimetsu-chan]

~Relief~

A/N: This is the Yuna Lives!AU I was talking about! This oneshot is an apology to @larz-barz for making her cry….. twice…..

TWS ⚠️: mentions of near death experiences

Milo had heard what had happened to Yuna.

Tanjiro told her when he returned from the small mission he and Yuna went on. He had approached to tell her Yuna had almost died and was currently being treated by the Insect Hashira herself.

Milo was waiting anxiously outside of the room Yuna was being treated in. The door was closed and she was sitting on the ground by the door and Tanjiro was sitting next to her, holding her hand.

A few minutes passed before the Insect Hashira exited the room and turned to Milo with a smile.

“Miss Handa is in a stable condition now and you may go in to see her”

Milo practically leapt up and into the room. She rushed to the side of Yuna’s bed and buried her face in Yuna’s neck while enveloping her in a hug.

“I thought you were gonna die—! You have to be more careful!”

Yuna winced slightly but returned the hug with a smile on her face.

“Awh sweetheart, you aren’t gonna get rid of me so quickly. I promise I won’t die that easily.”

Milo further buried her face into Yuna’s shoulder as her ears fell flat against her head.

“You better not.”

Milo pulled away from the hug with an angry expression but Yuna paid no mind to it. She instead reached out and wiped the tears that were pooling in Milo’s eyes. Milo spoke again in a soft and choked voice and her lip started to quiver.

“You have to promise to never do that again. You can’t die, I can’t loose you.”

Yuna gave Milo a soft smile and caressed Milo’s cheek softly.

“I promise… and I’m so sorry for making you worry…”

Milo went back to resting in Yuna’s embrace as she smiled softly.

“I forgive you… I love you mama…”

Yuna smiled and gave Milo a chaste kiss in between her ears.

“I love you too baby.”

~La Fin~

Gosh that was cringey 🥲

BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT LARZ AND IM SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU UPSET 😭

[caspersickfanfics]

Post-adrenaline puking

For @monthofsick day 6

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting, near death experience, nightmare reference, imagined death (?) (thinking about "what if [character] died")

A/N:

No ask for this one, just my own brain thinking it'd be great if Cyno and Tighnari were fighting together and then Cyno almost died and he's totally fine but Tighnari is horrifically shaken up by the whole experience.

There was something uniquely exhilarating about fighting with Cyno. Although Tighnari was more than capable of handling The Withering on his own or with his team of forest rangers, something about teaming up with the person Tighnari was closest to enhanced his own strengths. As a general rule of thumb, Tighnari didn’t much like fighting, but this… he would never admit it out loud, but fighting alongside Cyno felt more like play.

They took down the last ruin monster together, and despite the energy-sucking effects of The Withering, Tighnari felt like he could fight ten more as he moved to destroy the tumor. A single shot should do it, now the they’d destroyed the monsters and the branches. And yet… It didn’t. Tighnari frowned. Had he missed? A sense of foreboding rose in his bones, but he brushed it off as he heard Cyno laugh.

“Tighnari! What does an archer say when he misses his target?”

Tighnari ignored this, taking aim for a second shot. As he did so, he heard three things:

The complete silence of the wind

Cyno’s carefree voice saying, “Oh, bow”

A creak that comes not from nature, but machinery

He whipped around just in time to a final infected ruin monster appear behind Cyno, already charging up. He didn’t know how it had gotten past both of them, but he knew without a doubt that it could take his partner from him forever with a single strike.

“Cyno!” Tighnari’s stomach flipped; he felt felt the blood drain from his face and with it went any sense of fun. For a moment where time was frozen, Tighnari saw snapshots of Cyno, making unfunny jokes to lighten a tense mood, playing TCG with the highest degree of intensity, returning to their home weary to the bone but full of love after months of nonstop work. He saw him helping Collei through panic attacks, reminding her that her illness did not define her or make her weak, tucking her in after a bad dream and staying with her the better part of the night, teaching her tracking and spatial awareness to ensure she’d be able to sense when danger was near. He saw Cyno as he was years ago, awkward and uncertain in the early stages of their friendship, recalled the wonder in Cyno’s face as Tighnari taught him how to brush his tail. He saw Cyno asleep in their bed, peaceful and entirely relaxed and safe.

Then he saw Cyno, cold and stiff. Lying flat, but not sleeping. Entirely unmoving. This Cyno he had seen before, too, many times since his dreams had returned, but only ever in the worst of his nightmares.

And then the hands of time began ticking, and Tighnari lost track of himself. He had a thought that he’d need multiple shots to take it down, and then he was moving. Two shots from a distance, running closer before the second one hit. The machines weapon went off, its laser beam striking too close to Cyno for comfort, but Tighnari’s body continued to move. Positioning himself in close quarters and knowing that he could hit its weak point up to five times in succession if he got lucky.

He did get lucky, but it didn’t feel that way. There was no immediate sense of relief as the ruin monster fell to the ground. Tighnari wasted no time destroying the tumor. The Withering cleared, but his chest stayed tight and painful, and oxygen felt just out of his grasp. He heard Cyno whistle and then speak as though he were a mile away.

“Wow, that was kinda hot. I had no idea you could–” Cyno’s breath stuck in his throat the moment he caught sight of Tighnari. Ears pinned to his head, tail quivering weakly, eyes wide. A single glance and he could tell something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.

Then Tighnari doubled over and vomited, and Cyno was at his side assessing the damage before a single thought crossed his mind.

“Are you hurt,” he demanded. No response, just a moan and a shuddering back, and then a hand clasping Cyno’s arm, tight. “Tighnari.”

“‘m fine,” the forest watcher mumbled, voice hollow and still thick with nausea; decidedly unconvincing. A harsh heave brought another wave of puke splattering across the uneven forest floor. Cyno held his companion steady with his free hand on Tighnari’s shoulder. When the retching stopped, the matra took it upon himself to conduct a quick but thorough examination, only breathing a sigh of relief after he confirmed that Tighnari had sustained exclusively surface level injuries.

“Right,” Cyno spoke with an attempt at confidence. “You’re okay.”

Except Tighnari did not look okay at all. His skin was washed out and covered in beads of sweat, and his ears stayed pressed into damp hair. The way he gasped for air made Cyno’s chest hurt. Most concerning were his eyes: unblinking and dilated, red-ringed but dry, they traced all of Cyno’s movements as if tied to him by invisible strings.

“You–” Tighnari started, only to be cut off with a retch. His grip on Cyno’s arm tightened impossibly further. Cyno didn’t mind; he simply moved closer and rubbed firm circles onto the ill forest watcher’s arched back until he threw up again and his airways cleared. Cyno was rattled, impatient for an explanation and reassurance, but not enough to rush Tighnari into speaking. He took a slow breath before speaking again.

“Let’s sit." The matra’s voice was deliberately soft with the suggestion, and his movements as he guided Tighnari to rest on a fallen tree were gentle. He was still clearly feeling unwell. He curled up, one arm wrapped around his knees, feet pulled close to his body, looking much smaller than he was. Even his tail had curled closely around him. Every so often a wet burp would bubble out of him, but Cyno doubted there was anything left in his stomach. Since he hadn't brought any extra supplies, Cyno used his own bare hand to wipe the area around Tighnari’s mouth clean. He tried not to think too hard about what it meant that Tighnari, who was usually so insistent about taking care of himself, expressed no resistance to this action. He still hadn’t let go of Cyno’s arm, though his grip eased somewhat over time. As Cyno eyed the place where their skin touched, he thought about how scared he had been at the idea of Tighnari being hurt; he thought about the number of times Tighnari had examined him for injuries, and the intensity of his gaze just minutes ago.

“Ah,” Cyno said quietly. It was so obvious. “I’m okay.”

The words, simple as they were, clearly meant a great deal to Tighnari. His tail twitched and unraveled, brushing Cyno’s shoulder and falling to rest nested between both of their thighs. Tighnari’s eyes, which had been staring blankly at the ground in front of him, drifted to Cyno’s face.

“You almost died,” Tighnari croaked. A shiver ran down Cyno’s spine.

He didn’t know if Tighnari was right, though he trusted the forest watcher’s judgement. He wanted to deny it. He knew, really, that it didn’t matter exactly how close he had come to fighting his last. If he had scared Tighnari to this extent… He didn’t know how to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, both helplessly and genuine. “I didn’t mean to.”

Tighnari’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his nose twitching. His mouth quirked up slightly, like he wanted to laugh but was too tired to muster up the energy. “I know.”

Cyno nodded. There was a much bigger conversation to be had, he knew, but now was not the time. Tighnari’s complexion had improved somewhat, but he was still incredibly shaky. His grip on Cyno’s forearm had weakened, and he had slumped against Cyno’s side. It was… disconcerting, seeing how steady he usually was, and Cyno wanted him to rest and feel better as soon as possible.

“Do you still feel sick?”

Tighnari took a moment to answer, and Cyno knew he was taking stock of his body. He waited silently, comfortable with this familiar process, until Tighnari shook his head. “Not sick, just tired and weak. I–” He hesitated and Cyno offered when he hoped was an encouraging expression. Tighnari’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’m not sure I can walk, to be honest.”

This was not surprising to Cyno. “I’ll carry you.”

The blush darkened. Cyno stood, facing away from Tighnari, and nodded at his own back. “Get on.”

Tighnari scoffed audibly, and then there was a soft “You’re ridiculous,” but soon a weight settled against Cyno and he smiled slightly.

“What did the forest ranger say to the fox?” He asked. Tighnari groaned, Cyno’s smile grew, and together, they set off towards home.

–––

Send asks here!

[winterswordsx]

bro can these pro @na fucking blogs get off my feed i keep blocking them but they wont go away like fuck off i already have ARFID i dont wanna hear about ur bullshit it triggers me back to times when i was dying of organ failure.

[mewintheflesh-2]

More Nightsky Headcanons :) Mostly About Winona, Mikey, and Nikey.

(Got some whump in this one.) (is it whump?) (I think so idk)

Winona likes to call Mikey Sky-Boy in a taunt kind of way, but a “I love you, idiot” kind of way

Mikey is not good at hiding his emotions as I’ve discussed, so sometimes he’ll just look at Winona in like any formal-wear and he just “Uhhhh, uhhhh einwidheiwneieneie hi” and his face is like red as a tomato and Winona’s just like LMAO Arceus I fucking love you

FOREHEAD KISSES all the time, hand kisses, they’re very comfortable with moderate PDA, but they’re like all over eachother when they’re mostly alone. Constantly hugging, holding hands, you know the drill. They’re so fucking adorable

Mikey is pretty decent at flirting, but Winona is always on top of her game. Flirting between the two almost always starts with Mikey saying something pretty good, and then Winona just knocking him to the ground metaphorically with something he could’ve never even guessed, something that leaves him absolutely stunned in the best way possible. He wants to someday find something he can say that will make Winona feel the same way.

Also, the outside of Team Sky’s base is decked the fuck out with wind chimes of all kinds. The area it’s in gets a shit ton of wind, which has also resorted in the base being partly wind powered.

anyways back to the Nightsky

Nikey often finds himself holding his own hand when he’s alone just to have some sense of what he used to have with Winona

Despite him very much being cursed, people outside his close proximity only know it to be a rumour. He prefers to keep it that way and will very much dock the pay of anyone who is too persistent to know.

The skin around the cursed eye is like… really gross. Like Marvel’s Spider Man 2 Symbiote Suit gross. The green dot below the eye has the texture and material of marble. The red iris can burn through almost any fabrics aside from one, which is exactly what his eyepatch is made of. He is EXTREMELY insecure about how the skin around his eye is and if anybody brings it up, he will either A. Threaten to kill them. B. Hurt them physically. Or C. Just leave and then hide away from everything and everyone. Depends on his mood.

There was a point in time where he got deadly sick for like a week, almost died, and nobody knew because everyone assumed he was just self isolating again. He didn’t think of his sickness as much at first, just a small cold, he’ll just wait it out. But as it went on, and he began to feel worse, he began having intense physical symptoms, began to be unable to stand even with a cane. He began to rely on dry snacks in his house as he couldn’t do anything to cook for himself, which only worsened his condition as it was mostly unhealthy food. He was lucky he even had any water in his room in the first place, otherwise he surely would’ve been dead long before anyone found him.

He couldn’t call for help either. His voice was too quiet and hoarse to call out for the bodyguards standing guard right outside his house. He began to experience extreme delirium and even when he was breaking things inside his house in an attempt to call attention to someone, anyone- to help him. The guards just assumed he was having another episode. Constant burning inside his body, jolts of pain coarse go through his body like lightning any time he moved. He couldn’t sleep either, which only worsened his delirium and caused more intense hallucinations. Hallucinations of people he loved, people he lost, whether by death or otherwise. Hallucinations of people he killed.

It wasn’t until he crawled to his front door, scratching and clawing, unable to stand up to reach all the locks he had brandished on the entrance to his house, that someone finally opened the door and saw the horrible state he was in. His hair was a mess, his skin was dirty, he was barely clothed, and his eyepatch was missing. He began to be treated on sight by his personal doctor, who was called for an emergency to his house. But his condition was far too severe for that to suffice. He was taken to the nearest hospital and put into emergency treatment.

Turns out, the reason he had fallen so deathly ill was due to a deadly poison known as “Parasect G” which is known to kill any recipient within the next 24 hours after consumption. The doctors said it was a miracle Nikey had even survived for as long as he did, especially with how he was handling it. The doctors also found that his body had been suffering from long term and deadly amounts of intense stress. They ended up keeping him in the hospital for months to get his body to be even remotely healthy.

Nikey hadn’t realised just how exhausted and in pain he’d been for the past 5 years. And when he found himself alone in his hospital room, all he could do was cry. He’d been so… tired. All this time he was so tired- and now he was feeling it, all at once. He just wanted to curl into a ball and dissipate into pure light. All he could do now… was make the most of his hospital-ridden state, and just take the time to just… rest. Weeks after recovery, Nikey found himself vaguely wishing that it had taken him out. Or that he could atleast be that close to the brink again, because atleast then, he could be taken to the hospital again, and have time to breathe again. He has a purpose, he’s the ruler of the world, and yet… he feels so lost. Like he’s waiting for something that’ll never come, that he doesn’t even know what it is. But he’s holding out for something.

And he will get that something. Whatever it may be.

[lanayru-the-water-god]

Gifts of gratitude

In this fourth installment of “All for the maiden,” Lanayru returns to her best friend’s spring to reunite with Ivory.

Word count: 1471

Slowly and steadily, Lanayru’s footsteps echo against the shiny surface. In front of her is Nerin’s spring, which over the centuries has become her second home, and today she comes to receive a gift from the eternally grateful swan maiden.

The one she sacrificed her life once more to save.

Memories of her sacrifice dwindled away as she slept, leaving only tiny fragments of a blurry haze. But still she can see the fallen maiden, close to her final breath, the blood pooling against the tiles. She can feel the glow of her hands, and soon her entire body, overflowing with the healing magic as she thrust every last inch of it out—

And then…nothing.

Several days after her awakening, Lanayru is still slightly fatigued, but finally strong enough to travel to her best friend’s domain. Her heart flutters with a mixture of relief and excitement, eager to reach the sweet maiden.

As she makes her way around the quiet, serene spring with its pure waters and soft swan feathers, her eye catches on two figures close by. One of them is the Swan Goddess, her fluffy shawl wrapped around her body and loose white hair framing her face. And the other one…the dainty being is strikingly familiar—

Ivory.

“Lanayru!!” the swan maiden shrieks, bolting toward the Water Goddess and throwing her arms out. “Oh my gosh, hi!!”

Before she can respond, Ivory’s head is already resting against her chest, arms wrapped around her frail body in a tight squeeze. Lanayru grunts in surprise, chuckling as she glances up at Nerin. The Swan Goddess simply smiles.

“This one has not been patient, waterdrop.”

Lanayru runs gentle fingers through the maiden’s soft hair. “Are you alright, my dearest one? I know you’re still recovering.”

“What do you mean?” Ivory slowly loosens her grip on the Goddess, glancing up at her with a frown. “I’ve been good as new for a while now. You’ve just been out for-“ She pauses. “…a long time.”

“I know, my apologies. If only saving you hadn’t taken such a toll on me…but I digress. You’re doing well, sweetheart, and you have no idea how delighted that makes me.”

Ivory steps back, her smaller form glancing up at Lanayru. With her limited memories of the maiden, it’s as if she is meeting a stranger. But Ivory knows her now; so much more time has passed than she can grasp.

“You look so, uh…so…different!” The maiden’s cheeks flush pink as she speaks. “Like- your hair!”

The Water Goddess runs a finger through her short bob of blonde locks, cutting off above her shoulders. Days before, it had reached all the way down her back, having not been trimmed in several years.

“Yeah, it’s a little shorter, isn’t it?” she replies with a chuckle. “I was thinking of chopping it before I healed you, but I just never got around to it.”

“Well, it looks absolutely stunning.” Ivory fidgets with her white dress, seemingly a bit nervous. “So…Lanayru, are you feeling okay? Were you in pain at all?”

“Well, I don’t really remember…but it was painless, my dearest one. It felt almost like a nice, long nap.”

“Aw…thank goodness, I am so glad to hear that…I mean, I was there when—when you…”

Lanayru’s heart sinks. “When I—?”

…died?

“Yeah, when you lost consciousness…I saw it all…” Ivory mutters, breathless. “Oh, my heart couldn’t take it, Nerin was so devastated…she explained a bit to me, how you were gonna be gone for a while.”

That’s right. Nerin told her to keep the death a secret, worried that it would upset the troubled maiden even further.

The guilt still pangs in her chest, just as it has each day since awakening…Nerin knew. The Swan Goddess watched Lanayru fade out, and she knew. Soon her darling waterdrop would stop breathing, her body shutting down completely, anywhere from seconds to minutes of a lifeless form lying where the Water Goddess once stood…

“It was very hard for her, yes,” Lanayru confirms, careful to not let out the truth. “Ivory, I am so sorry…I never meant for you to go through that.”

“Why are you apologizing? You- you saved my life.” The maiden stares at her with pleading eyes. “I owe you everything, Miss Water Goddess, far more than I could ever offer.”

Lanayru sniffles. “Ivory, please—“

“Lady Nerin, give it to her,” Ivory turns toward the Swan Goddess, who grins with delight.

“You’re gonna like this one, waterdrop.” Nerin tells her with a smile. “A lot of thought went into it.”

To Lanayru’s confusion, Nerin takes off the fluffy shawl around her shoulders, stepping forward and holding it in outstretched hands.

“But…isn’t that yours, little one?”

“No, silly, it’s for you. Take it.”

The Water Goddess carefully obeys, gasping in awe as the large shawl drapes over her wrists and arms.

Oh my Goddesses.

The assortment of white and gray swan feathers, with even tinges of baby blue, blend together on a neatly cross-stitched base pattern, one that clearly took an immense amount of time and care.

“Ivory, this is…beautiful,” she gushes, eyes beginning to water. “Did you make this?”

“I sure did, my darling. That was the one good thing about you being unconscious for that long…I had time to really create something memorable.”

A pleasant warmth washes over Lanayru’s body, bringing her a sense of peace and calm…each one of the delicate feathers seems to have a life of its own, glowing in the daylight.

“Wh-what is this? Is it a shawl?”

“Not quite…it’s a blanket, made from my own thread and magical swan feathers. Each of us offered a few of our feathers and Nerin helped gather some too…when you sleep with it, a bit of our swan magic will come to you. I bet you’re even feeling it right now.”

Oh.

Oh my—

“I-I can’t accept this! Please- this is far more than I ever need—“

“You must, Lanayru.” the maiden interrupts, gently touching the blanket with her hand. “I know that someday, you’ll save an innocent soul once again. When you’ve slipped into a deep sleep, I will come to drape this across your body, and your… slumber, should I call it that, will be as peaceful as the waters you give us.”

Tears roll down Lanayru’s cheeks; as both her hands are occupied from holding the blanket, she is unable to wipe them away.

“This was far too sweet of you,” she states, sniffling again as she holds the blanket close. “I-I can’t believe you…you did this for me…”

“I wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for you!” Ivory shouts. “Goddess, please, stop all this. You did the most selfless thing any of us could have imagined, something that I’m sure half of us wouldn’t have the guts to do—“

“What choice did I have? It was either to save you, or just stand there and watch you fucking die—“

“Lanayru!” Nerin’s firm voice startles her. “Don’t.”

“Oh…sorry,” she mutters. Her friend has never been too fond of her profanity. “It-it’s just that…I will never expect a reward for my actions. Always remember that.”

“I know.” Ivory reaches a hand out toward Lanayru’s tear-stained face. “Here, is this okay?”

The Water Goddess nods, letting the maiden’s cool, dainty hands wipe the tears from her cheeks.

Nerin steps closer to the two, beaming with delight. “Save your tears, waterdrop,” she explains. “This isn’t the only gift for you today.”

“H-huh?” Lanayru chokes out. There’s…more than one?

“The other maidens know everything, we couldn’t possibly hide it from them…Lanayru, I still don’t think you really understand how grateful we all are. Every one of our maidens is extremely special to us, and you care so much about our well-being.” The Swan Goddess gestures to the stunning front entrance of her residence. “Come inside with us, waterdrop.”

Ivory turns back to Lanayru, touching the blanket once more. “RuRu, why don’t you wear this around your shoulders?” The maiden pauses suddenly, brow furrowing. “Oh…is it okay if I call you that?”

“Of course,” she replies, nodding slowly. “You have my permission, darling.”

She has reserved the nickname RuRu only for those close to her, but for Ivory it just feels…right. And perhaps they can indeed become close friends as the months and years go by. She may have Nerin, and all the Dwellers…but she can always open her heart for another companion. With her devout kindness and joyful spirit, Ivory is a perfect one.

Lanayru wraps the soft blanket around her shoulders, just like how Nerin wears her feathery shawl, and begins to follow them along the path. Embracing the warmth of the swan magic from the blanket, she listens to their soft footsteps among the peaceful sounds of the spring.

[dutybcrne]

Thinking abt Taru fresh out of the Abyss, out with his siblings and spotting a rabbit or small animal. Instincts & habit kicking in ( those seldom lasted long in the Abyss, get it while he can, bring it to share with Master- ), him immediately setting to hunt and kill the creature then proudly bringing it back to his family, all smiles and blood-spattered, and being utterly thrown by the fact that he was not met with mildly disinterested praise, but sheer horror instead-

[youredreamingofroo]

living in this household is such a train wreck ❤️

like wdym it's not normal for your guardians to be perfectly fine, then have an off day, which leads to my guardians arguing and having my grandma threaten to k word my grandpa and my grandpa just ask to be k worded, and then have me get so stressed out I just start crying, and in some cases (like today) have a panic attack that almost k/o's me 🫶🫠 only for everything to go back to normal 5 minutes later. Damn that's not normal??????? Welp.

[luminarai]

.