#waking up from Maya hell

[laxsland]

incoherent sketching

[morgansorgans-org]

Collection of nrmt/klpl fics!

An oomf on Instagram asked if I could compile all my favorite Ace Attorney fics! They are all and Wrightworth and Klapollo fics. The first few are my favorites (usually means they made me cry or emotionally impacted me 🧍) but I like all the others I linked here ofc as well! Many of these came from rec lists on tumblr, because that’s how I started out reading aa fics!

Wrightworth fics

Legal Partners by Miggy, 132k words, 34/34 chapters, 2013

Summary: Miles Edgeworth isn't totally sure how he ended up in this bet to demonstrate the strength of his and Phoenix Wright's (entirely professional and platonic! really!) relationship, but he knows it's Klavier's fault.

Absolutely one of my most favorite fics ever, I’m not gonna lie. Genuinely so good. I was clutching my phone the entire third act of the fic, absolutely ridden with anxiety. I read for 12 hours straight that third act, during exam season, eyes absolutely bloodshot and had a splitting headache by the end because I was staring at my phone for far too long. It’s so good.

I think my biggest qualm I have with this master class of a fic if I had to say, would probably be the characterization of Klavier? he feels too straight in this I don’t know how else to put it. But honestly it’s so minor I don’t really care and I’ve read this twice (which I never do)

Project Matchmakers by WingSongHalo, 126k words, 16/16 chapters, 2018

Summary: It was quite distressing, Pearl thought. For years previously, she had been quite fixated on the idea of her cousin and Mr. Nick living happily ever after. Even after she had accepted that this would never happen, she was always somewhat enamored of the idea that one of them would someday be caught up in a whirlwind romance, passionate and adventurous.

So she was rather surprised to find herself immensely enjoying the steady, familiar relationship she saw between a defense attorney and a prosecutor. It wasn't loud or flashy or wild, but calm and reliable and quiet. Rather than a blazing fire that consumed everything, theirs was an affection like a candle flame, bringing forth light and warmth.

Well, except for when they were in court. Then they were rather more like two overzealous flamethrowers.

An excitable group of girls (and a reluctant Apollo) team up to make Phoenix and Miles realize they're crazy about each other. But are such measures really necessary?

Canon universe.

Loved this one. Very good. I loved the side casefic it had and how it affected the main characters as well. I love the everyone ships wrightworth trope so much.

A Night You’ll Never Regret by MaudMoon (Idle_Wanderings), 88k words, 7/7 chapters, 2018

Summary: After learning about a clerical error on their wedding certificate, Maggey and Gumshoe decide to go all out and invite their friends and family to a vow renewal ceremony in Las Vegas. Edgeworth, spurred on by his sister's threats encouragements, decides to use the trip as an opportunity to express feelings he's been holding onto for years.

However when Edgeworth, Larry, and Phoenix wake up the morning after Gumshoe's bachelor party, it doesn't take them long to realize things didn't go as planned: Edgeworth's cards have been declined, Larry has been mysteriously injured, and Phoenix wakes up wearing a wedding ring. And, to top it all off, Gumshoe is missing. They'll need to rush against time to find Gumshoe before his wedding, and to do that they'll need to figure out what the hell exactly happened last night.

Soooo good! I love the mystery aspect of it all and everyone recounting and slowly piecing together what happened. It’s very sweet too and also kinda nsfw be warned…. also Maya x Rhoda was definitely not what I was expecting tbh

To play due process like a fiddle by Harmony, 19k words, 1/1 chapters, 2024

Summary: As far as Miles can tell, Agent Lang's initial impression of certified hot mess Phoenix "That Man" Wright upon their first meeting wasn't exactly the most positive, and tragically enough, it's not like Miles can really blame him for having that perception.

That said, they both probably should've known that Phoenix hadn't been named the Turnabout Terror for nothing.

(Or: what it means to judge solely based on first appearances and then have all of your expectations rocked off-balance, especially when they revolve around one of the most outstanding attorneys the criminal justice system has ever known).

Deeeeeelicious. So good. Love the tension between Phoenix and Lang and them essentially kinda fighting for Edgeworth even though it’s a very skewed battle against Lang. Aaaagh

A fool in love (with you) by gen, 17k words, 1/1 chapters, 2016

Summary: Miles and Phoenix (finally, no really, after two years of being engaged) decide to tie the knot. On the day of the wedding, they are reminded of all the moments that got them there.

Sooooo cute! This one helped inspire me for my last chapter of my own wrightworth fic actually! This author actually wrote a klapollo long fic I’ve been meaning to check out actually, called The Sound of Silence. I’ve been scared off by how heavy the warnings of the angst ahead are ngl. But this one shot in contrast is very fluffy and sweet!

A Beginner’s Guide on how Not to Write Steel Samurai Fanfiction by chameleonwrites, 16k words, 6/6 chapters, 2021

Summary: Verity Baytum, a court stenographer, has a secret passion for writing Steel Samurai fanfiction based around the pairing Magisteel. When she finds an unlikely source of inspiration during her job, she can't help but watch court proceedings in search of further lines that fit her fics.

Miles Edgeworth, said source of inspiration, has a secret passion for reading Steel Samurai fanfiction based around the pairing Magisteel. It doesn't take long for him to realise the reason the characters sound like him and Wright is not due to personal projection.

I really liked this one, it’s very funny and sweet. I also realized this fic kind of predicted the name Verity for an AA character…

Yours, Mine, and Maybe Ours by estelraca, 13k words, 1/1 chapters, 2015

Summary: Phoenix convinces Miles to bring Trucy in with him for Bring Your Daughter to Work Day, despite Miles' misgivings. Everything becomes even more complicated when Kay Faraday and Shi-Long Lang call on him for assistance. Set between the original trilogy and Apollo Justice; mild spoilers for both Investigations games.

Loved this one! I really like any fics with Trucy as a bigger character (wow who knew look at all my SNS accounts with trucy pfps) especially ones that delve deeper into her relationship between her and Edgeworth.

The Prosecution Rests by Commander_Freddy, 4k words, 1/1 chapters, 2016

Summary: Miles Edgeworth goes to bed, and then wakes up.

Very good. Short but impactful and angsty and sweet. Commander Freddy has some other very good AA fics you should check out also.

Archeology by sunsmasher, 8k words, 1/1 chapters, 2014

Summary: Phoenix and Maya finally clean out Mia's office. Far, far too many people help.

Very short but very good. Deals with Mia grief and also has side Wrightworth content.

To Their Happiness by ,,,,, 41k words, 10/10 chapters, 2024

Summary: Trucy Wright sees that her daddy's friend, Miles Edgeworth, makes him happy in a way she can't. She knows he's sad and lonely, despite trying his best to hide it from her. She makes a promise to herself that she would try to have Miles around as often as she could, for his happiness.

Or, an evolution of Wrightworth's relationship through Trucy's eyes. Trucy and co. sees Phoenix and Miles feel that special way that adults feel for each other and tries to matchmake them. It's mostly Trucy doing that, though.

teehee. you think I wouldn’t go without promoting my OWN fic? you thought wrong!!! I’m also working on a Klapollo fic (it’s like 37k words so far) but I’ll be lucky if it gets uploaded by the end of 2024 with the pace I’m writing it at. It’s so close to completion though…

Klapollo fics

Hot for Justice by indirectkissesiniceland, 43k words, 26/26 chapters, 2013

Summary: After the events of State v. Misham, Klavier finds himself in a slump, stressed at the prosecutor's office and unable to pen new songs. To his surprise, he finds creative inspiration—and unexpected feelings—spending time with Apollo. Now if only he could release the new tracks without raising any suspicion as to whom his love songs are for.

God, is there a klapollo fic rec list without Hot for Justice on it? It’s such a classic, and rightfully so. This fic also inspired me as well to write my next fic! It’s just this good.

Vacation All I Wanted by JJsADragon, 111k words, 24/24 chapters, 2020

Summary: “A vacation?” Apollo asked.

“Yeah! You know what a vacation is, right Polly? When are you going to get another opportunity like this? A beach vacation? A pool? It’s not like you could afford this place without splitting the cost.”

One condo. Six lawyers. Seven secret plans. What could possibly go wrong?

This fic is like. A need I go on? Moment. It’s so iconic and good. This along with Legal Partners probably permanently organized my brain chemistry, I think. Good god the angst. The fluff. this fic genuinely made me sob which. A book hasn’t done that to me in a very long time! there’s a scene where Apollo talks about grief and that was very relatable. This fic also does breach the subject of suicidal ideation, but it is brief. In general this is a lighthearted fic!

If it’s really me you seek by seamint, 83k words, 21/21 chapters, 2021

Summary: “Anyway,” Ema keeps going, fully ignoring his sarcasm in favor of staring at a neat corner where the walls meet the ceiling. “I asked if he wanted to go to your party together, but he said he wasn’t going.”

“What?” Apollo suddenly finds it very hard to breathe. “Why?”

“Hell if I know,” Ema says nonchalantly, but then she turns to him with a smirk. “See if you can figure it out: I believe he told me, and I quote—ahem—'Ach, I would, Fräulein, but I believe Herr Justice would be more comfortable without me there.’”

Or, when Apollo comes home from Khura'in only to learn that Prosecutor Gavin is avoiding him, the last thing he expected was for Gavin to offer to let Apollo stay at his house while he looks for a new apartment.

It’s been a hot minute since I read this one (one of the first klapollo fics I read) but this one was veryyy good. Very much inspired me. Honestly all of Seamint’s stuff is good.

And if all my wishes could come true by seamint, 45k words, 8/8 chapters, 2022

Summary: “‘Our son’ my ass. You’re getting way too into this,” Apollo grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Is this your dream? Do you dream of being divorced and paying alimony, Gavin?”

Klavier doesn’t tell him that as far as dreams go, his is to live in a world where a relationship with Apollo, past tense or otherwise, is at all possible. Apollo doesn’t need specifics, or terrible confessions in vet clinics that show how badly Klavier wants to play pretend with him.

Or, Klavier, Apollo, and how cats bring people together in the most convoluted ways possible.

Looove this. Very fluffy. Mikeko being the center of attention as well and that’s of course why we’re reading this who cares abt klapollo frrr

Turnabout Dungeons (and Dragons) by Synthpop, 170k words, 33 chapters, 2016

Summary: According to Mr. Wright, Dungeons and Dragons is good, if not crucial, for cultivating trusting relationships between friends and coworkers. Apollo has his doubts.

So goood. I love D&D and Klapollo and this is the perfect mix of this. Bard klavier, paladin apollo, need I go on? Phoenix is the dungeon master and Ema, Trucy, Athena and Simon are also apart of the party as well

can I go where you go by parchmints, 40k words, 6/6 chapters, 2021

Summary: Apollo Justice has rotten luck: he actually wins the grand prize for a mail-in contest, but It's a couple's getaway to a fancy ski lodge in the mountains and Apollo is aggressively single. With no one to go with, Apollo offers them to Klavier since surely, a rockstar would be able to find a date before then, but Klavier has a better idea—they go together and pretend they're a couple. That way, they both get a vacation, plus free food and wine.

And well, Apollo's never been one to pass up free food.

So good!!! There’s some wonderful art in this one as well!! I remember being super hooked by this one and giggling over the fake dating stuff. Loved it

Things are as they are by hechima, 34k words, 3/3 chapters, 2021

Summary: Klapollo cabin fic. That's really all this is.

Need I say more? Yes, two cabin fic recs back to back. One cabin in the snow and the other in some desert. Loved the character analysis in this one.

Gravity by Euphorion, 46k words, 7/7 chapters, 2014

Summary: In the aftermath of his brother's arrest, Klavier is trying to balance his law career and a solo music career, with some success—but with less savory consequences as well. His fans are fixating on every aspect of his life, desperate for his attention and jealous of his relationships with the people around him. They've singled out his courtroom rival, Apollo Justice, as the target of their frustrations.

hooo boy this one is pretty angsty in a way. Lots of things going on in this one. We have some crazy Gavinners fans in this, endangerment of lives, stalking, mail… it’s a bit dark but very engaging!

It’s all that I am and all that I have by eternalmagic, 58k words, 12/12 chapters, 2016

Summary: Apollo sucks in a breath, attempting to steel his nerves. Should he honestly send this...? He doesn't even know who this man is. This is a huge, huge mistake. But, even so, he hits send before he can remind himself of how awful an idea this is.

Dear You,

I think I love you. Just wanted you to know.

From,

Me

Klavier's phone pings with an email notification, and the moment he reads it, the smile fades from his face. God, this was so much easier when he didn't know that the sender hated him in real life.

[ or, the you've got mail au. ]

Sooo good! I’ve never watched the movie before, and honestly, you don’t have to. It’s very engaging and oh my goddd the angst you have to get through to get to the fluff…. So worth it.

Anyway, Here’s Guilty Love by u_andcloud, 129k words, 22/22 chapters

Summary: The entirety of Ivy U is smitten with Klavier Gavin—with one exception. Apollo Justice could do without Klavier’s constant presence in the quad, where he serenades passerby with acoustic versions of his band's songs. Apollo is also not particularly fond of Klavier’s clothes, his hair, his tendency to sprinkle German into his conversations, or the fact that, despite all of this, Klavier is still at the top of the class.

So when Klavier asks Apollo to help him start a club for aspiring lawyers on campus, Apollo isn’t entirely sure why he accepts. It’s a resume builder, he tells himself. It’s not like he has to like the guy.

Except, well....he's starting to think that he might.

[Or, a simple college AU turned AA4 re-imagining.]

AHHHHH. College AU fic set in Ivy U. In AU fics like these, I’m always interested in how the author will deal with Kristoph, considering his story is so intertwined with both Apollo and Klavier. This fic did it so well and seamlessly my goddd. I loved it.

Undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward) by experimentaldragonfire, 59k words, 11/11 chapters, 2020

Summary: Kristoph Gavin is found dead in his prison cell, and Klavier Gavin is the prime suspect.

With nobody else available to defend him, Apollo Justice flies in from Khura'in to take the case--but during the course of the trial and its aftermath, long-hidden secrets come to light.

I looove Klavier being suspected of murder fics. They executed this concept very well. I know abt experimentaldragonfire as they were one of the hosts for the klapollo minibang (2024) I was apart of! Their writing is indeed, fire. Check out their other fics as well!

Apollo Justice: Between the Cases by joggingoctopus, 84k words, 18/18 chapters, 2023

Summary: What happened between cases in the Apollo Justice game? Here's one way things could have played out!

A retelling of apollo Justice, kind of! I really liked how the author explained some of the stuff in Ace Attorney, and it will go into my personal AA belief system I think. They also have a sequel fic which I’ve yet to read bc im very scared! (Clay things)

Delicate by ronsenberg, 30k words, 5/5 chapters, 2020

Summary: Everything about the situation is wrong, from the suitcase in Apollo’s arms to the blaring of car horns from the cars waiting behind him. It doesn’t matter. “I have been thinking-” he starts, voice faltering. It is very unlike him to be at such a loss for words, but he has never found himself in a situation quite like this before. “Ach, wondering, really-”

Apollo raises his brow, glancing at the digital clock on the dash and back into Klavier’s eyes in quick succession. “Klavier, my flight-”

“-Marry me?” The words come out in a rushed and poorly articulated interruption. Apollo blinks, his mouth falling slightly open in surprise. “When you come back, ja? Marry me.”

A Post-Spirit of Justice Proposal fic.

As of writing this right now, I just finished this fic so it’s very fresh in my memory! I really liked it! The way they wrote what would most likely be a realistic depiction of Klapollo if it were to happen in real life. It has all the downs and lows and the highs that you’d expect in a realistic relationship.

Glowing embers dying fire by virtualmushroom, 88k words, 20/20 chapters, 2023

Summary: Klavier has a crush on Apollo and he makes that abundantly clear.

Apollo, however, is oblivious and takes Klavier's enamored flirting for simple teasing. After all, why would a famous prosecutor rockstar come to like an "average" guy like him?

Despite that, Apollo comes to unlearn the preconception he has of Klavier and see beyond his mask, into the person he really is, someone not as cheerful as he may appear.

An also realistic in-canon depiction of Klapollo I really like! This was also written by my good friend!

Words Come Fluently by ItsyRoyal, 50k words, 12/12 chapters, 2021

Summary: Klavier Gavin is the most famous rockstar in the world. Guilty Love is about to go platinum and the tour sold out fourteen stadiums. So there's really, really no reason why one anonymous music critic on Youtube who hates him should get under his skin. And yet somehow he'd do just about anything to convince MikekoMusic to like him.

Apollo has been doing Youtube as a fun side hustle while he tries to break into the talent management industry, and he's just landed an assistant gig working for Kristoph Gavin. Whose main client is his golden boy younger brother. Whose music Apollo has been anonymously trashing for years.

Yeah, this is all going to go fine.

auuuuuuuuuuugh oh my god the DRAMA in this. Really good. The best part about this is the reassurance of no murders and clay BEING ALIVE!! I love clay alive fics, esp if they’re of him reacting to Klapollo.

Mission Control by ForeheadandFop, 12k words, 1/1 chapters, 2015

Summary: Like any good friend, Clay takes an interest in Apollo's career; he can't help it if the most interesting part is Klavier.

Loved this as well. Very good. It fulfills my needs of clay reacting to klapollo as mentioned above but however. This is canon compliant….🧍happy ending though …

I think that’s it for my list for recommendations! Sorry a lot of them are long fics 😭😭

[periwinkla]

Phoenix - Godot parallels

I've been replaying T&T and I gotta say, the parallels between Phoenix and Godot are uncanny. The most glaring resemblance is that they're both so presumptuously convinced that they are the only ones who can and should have the responsability of saving the people they love. Note also that their Japanese names, interestingly, both reference dragons - Ryuuchi and Souryuu respectively - but they do so in reverse : the first kanji for Phoenix and the last for Godot. Godot wakes up after 5 years and learns that the love of his life was killed. He couldn't do anything about it because he was poisoned and thus out of commission. Then he learns that said love of his life had taken on a protégé, and he also learns that the lovesick idiot willingly swalled the same poison that put him into a coma, and was swimmingly fine. He is so pissed at the guy. Also envious. Phoenix was there. Why couldn't he be there instead? Why did the poison put him into a coma, and not that stupid lovesick fool? He twistedly but most furiously hates the guy. Thus he crawls back from the deepest depths of hell. But he knows, deep down, that the one he really hates is himself (not that he could have done anything about it, even if he had not been in a coma - but feelings are hardly logical) Something Phoenix and Godot share is that twisted savior complex. Godot thinks he should have been the one to save Mia, Phoenix becomes a defense attorney because he thinks he is the only one who can save Miles, the only one who understands him (and then it's a slippery slope to wanting to save everyone ever, but that's beside the point). Both are quite presumptuous in these assertions. But Phoenix was able to save Miles (in a way he hadn't expected) - Godot couldn't save Mia. If Phoenix hadn't been able to save him, would he have ended up the same as Godot did? Remember, if he hadn't won that trial, Miles would have faced the death penalty. So, if the poison had worked and he was out of commission for 5 years, he would have been too late. If you think about it, we had a glimpse of what Phoenix would have been like. When he thought Miles was dead, he snapped at Maya and told her not to speak his name in front of him ever again. He was also quite depressed for those months and refused to take on cases at first, cases of possibly innocent people who needed him. And when Miles came back, he snapped at Miles too. Which leads me to my last point: Both Godot and Phoenix resort to anger as soon as they're hurt as their form of dealing with grief. They are so similar. One was just less lucky that the other. Also by this logic you could say that miego is basically narumitsu with a bad ending, which makes me cry so hard darnit edit: it's also fun to note that they both went crazy over someone they knew for less than a year. People call Phoenix ridiculous but Godot is basically the same kind of ridiculous

[amoxicillin-tangent]

i am given birth to by my mother. i am brought home to a falling-apart trailer. i am fed and i am not fed enough. i am aged into a small being with opinions and some semblance of autonomy; my childhood is a video game and i am given three objectives: sit down, stay quiet, and cease to exist. i am made good at the last part; it is a god-like sort of art, and so i do. silence is suited for me as well as i am suited for silence. 

i am told, gently, by my third-grade teacher to stop writing in passive voice. the noun of the sentence should be the actor, the doer, the taker. i am not a taker. never the actor of my own consciousness, of my own unconsciousness, remember, now, i am ceasing to exist. 

i am uprooted like a wilting plant, no sunlight, chipped terracotta pot, placed, never planted. grow, says the sunlight seeping between the drawn shutters, and i deny its case. i am made a masochist at all of eight-years-old, i am made for withering away. i am made mother, made martyr, made clever, made more, made machine. 

i am placed in a foster home and told the new rules. i will sleep at 2130 and wake at 0600. i will eat blueberries and coconut yogurt and i will make good grades. i will behave. i will sit down, i will stay quiet, and i will cease to exist. 

i am told, gently, by my ninth-grade teacher to stop writing in passive voice. like this, you are the subject of the sentence. i am brought home; i am subjected to my sentence. i am taught, i am created, i am embittered, i am disillusioned, i am ceasing. it is all i know how to do.

blurring letters litter the pages before me. maya angelou, oh pray my wings are gonna fit me well. oh, tell the hell-child to return to her cell. mangled beast, worthless mongrel, ceasing. perfect child, perfect victim, passive. the sentences are diagrammed by my expert hand and i am diagrammed as well, pages in a folder, problem child, trouble-maker, mentally unstable. infinitive, preposition, page-break. 

my eleventh-grade teacher is asked why was it okay for maya angelou to write in passive voice? she responds, because to write in active voice would take the focus from the corpse to the crew. i like that. i understand it. the pages aren’t so blurry anymore. i trace them with my fingertips, letter-by-letter. her bones were found//round thirty years later//when they razed//her building to//put up a parking lot. 

i am no longer still, silent, ceasing. i am no longer wilting, and no longer made, i am maker. 

grow, says the sunlight seeping between the drawn shutters. i am neither the corpse nor the crew. i reach forward with trembling hands,

and i pull the cord, and the light floods through.

[delusionalfanficwriter]

Accident: part 2

Leah burst through the door of Y/n's hospital room, her breaths hurried and eyes wide with worry, having just landed in the States, thirty minutes ago.

"Shhhh," Maya hushed her, her voice a gentle command cutting through the tense air of the room. "We just got her to settle and sleep after another panic attack. She's not in good shape, but she's awake and coherent, which, considering the crash she had, is nothing short of miraculous."

"Another panic attack?" Leah's disbelief hung heavy in the air. "What's that, the seventh one in twenty-four hours?"

"It might've been more if we hadn't insisted she close her eyes and try to rest," Carina chimed in wearily, her hand rubbing circles under her tired eyes.

The exhaustion was palpable in the room, a heavy blanket draped over each of the women as they gathered around the young soccer star.

"Did Dr. Shepard give any update about her legs?" Leah's voice wavered, the question a lifeline thrown into the swirling uncertainty.

Maya and Carina exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment passing between them before Maya took the lead, her voice steady but tinged with concern. "Dr. Shepard said the scans show inflammation compressing the nerves, but she's hesitant to jump into surgery just yet. The risks outweigh the potential benefits. She's not confident Y/n will regain feeling in her legs, but she did offer a glimmer of hope."

Leah sank back into her seat, the weight of the news settling heavily upon her shoulders. She turned her gaze to Y/n, sleeping peacefully amidst the chaos of uncertainty. "Fucking hell. She doesn't deserve any of this. She fought so hard to rebuild her life and soccer keeps her sane..."

"Maya and I are terrified," Carina added, her voice barely above a whisper, "the mere thought of not being able to play again... it's tearing her apart."

Leah's eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean you haven't told her?"

Maya shook her head, her expression pained. "We couldn't. Not with everything she's already been through. The stress, the trauma... telling her now would only push her further into despair. Y/n's mental state is fragile, Leah. We haven’t seen her in that mental state in such a long time. We had to protect her."

“I understand. I haven’t really seen or known of her life before soccer. She still hasn’t shared much of her past despite our two year relationship.”

“Can’t blame her. It took a lot of time for her to trust us enough to let us in even partly but don’t feel any way about it. She doesn’t like dwelling on her past life but I think this might be triggering her to life before soccer.” Carina explained. 

The three women conversed in low whispers until a change in the monitors caught Maya and Carina’s attention. A sudden shift in the monitors' readings drew Maya and Carina's attention like a magnet, their heads snapping in unison towards the glowing screens. Leah, sensing the change in atmosphere, followed their gaze, her heart rate picking up as she struggled to comprehend the significance of the sudden activity.

With a sense of urgency, Carina rose from her seat, her hand outstretched toward y/n's shoulder. Her touch was gentle yet firm, a silent plea for the slumbering figure to awaken. Meanwhile, Maya leaned in towards Leah, her voice a soothing murmur amidst the tension, explaining the possible cause of y/n's distress—a nightmare, triggering an alarming spike in her heart rate.

"Bambina, wake up," Carina's voice cut through the silence, laced with a mixture of concern and reassurance. "Everything is alright. Maya and I are here. Leah is also here with us, but you need to open your eyes to see she really is here. You are okay. You are okay. Bambina, c’mon."

As sweat glistened on y/n's forehead, her features contorted in the grip of her subconscious torment, she struggled to surface from the depths of her nightmare. Carina's words echoed faintly in her mind, but it was another voice—a voice she recognized and cherished—that pierced through the darkness, calling her back to consciousness.

"Hey cookie monster," Leah's voice was a beacon in the darkness, a lifeline for y/n to grasp onto. "I’m here. I just landed not long ago, but I am here holding your hand. I need you to open your eyes."

With each word of encouragement from Leah, y/n felt herself slowly breaking free from the nightmare's grasp, her consciousness emerging. And then, with a sudden jolt, she jerked awake, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar surroundings until they landed on the familiar face of her girlfriend.

Leah's hands cupped y/n’s cheeks, their foreheads pressing together in an intimate gesture of comfort. "You’re hot," Leah remarked, a hint of concern tainting her usual playful tone.

"I’m in a hospital gown," y/n chuckled weakly, trying to brush off Leah's observation with humor. But Leah's expression remained serious as she turned to Carina, voicing her suspicions.

"I think she’s running a fever," Leah said, her voice tinged with worry.

Carina wasted no time, her movements swift and decisive as she pressed the back of her hand against y/n’s forehead, confirming Leah's assessment with a muttered curse in Italian. Without hesitation, she retrieved a thermometer, her brow furrowed in concern as she watched the digital display reveal a temperature of 102.1.

“I’ll go grab a nurse to page Shepherd and Bailey.” Maya rushes out. 

“Y/n, do you feel off at all?” Carina asks. 

“I’m just exhausted and cold. Leah, hold me.” Y/n pleads. Leah doesn’t hesitate to sit on the bed and pull y/n in her arms, feeling her visibly shake. 

As y/n's fever began to become known, she found herself sinking deeper into exhaustion, the weight of her illness pressing down on her like a leaden blanket. Despite Leah's comforting presence, a sense of unease gnawed at her insides, the fear of the unknown threatening to overwhelm her fragile resolve.

Leah sensed the shift in y/n's demeanor, her brows furrowing with concern as she watched the color drain from her cheeks. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice laced with worry.

Y/n forced a weak smile, but her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil. "I'm just tired," she murmured, her voice barely audible above the hum of activity in the room.

Leah's grip tightened on y/n's hand, her concern deepening with each passing moment. "You're not alone, you know," she said gently. "We're all here for you, whatever you need."

Y/n nodded faintly, but a flicker of panic danced in her eyes as a wave of exhaustion washed over her, threatening to drag her under. "I don't know if I can do this," she confessed, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I'm so tired, Leah, and I'm scared."

Leah's heart clenched at the vulnerability in y/n's voice, her own fears momentarily forgotten as she focused on comforting her girlfriend. "You don't have to do it alone," she reassured her, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her. “One step at a time. You worry about kicking that fever off first.” 

But even as Leah spoke the words, she could see the doubt lingering in y/n's eyes, the fear of what lay ahead threatening to consume her from within. With a heavy heart, Leah leaned in closer, her forehead pressing against y/n's as she whispered words of comfort and reassurance.

Meanwhile, Maya and Carina exchanged worried glances, their hearts heavy with concern for their friend. Despite their best efforts, they could see the toll y/n's accident and now fever was taking on her, the exhaustion evident in every line of her face.

"We need to keep a close eye on her," Maya murmured, her voice tense with worry. "The fever seems to be exacerbating her anxiety, and if she's not careful..."

Carina nodded grimly, her thoughts mirroring Maya's. "We can't let her slip through the cracks," she agreed, her gaze never leaving y/n's pale face. “We will handle this together, my love. We won’t have her go back to that mindset. We have done it before.” 

[deadpanwalking]

dpw I am finally dedicating some time to reading poetry and have been knocked on my ass by a few lucky finds (Franny Choi, CD Wright, the new translation of Vulturnus!), but I feel like I don't have a great sense of where to find more. not that the world is short of—I mean, I haven't forgotten about google or anything—what I mean is, do you have any especially mindblowing collections you'd personally suggest? something that was influential to you at some point? I'm in a fertile headspace for it, and you're the poetryposter I follow on here and I trust your taste

It's August, so you're spoiled for choice. Elizabeth Bishop (Questions of Travel) for mornings when it rained overnight, Pablo Neruda (Residencia en la tierra) for mornings when it's going to rain; Robert Hayden (The Night-Blooming Cereus) for mornings when it's drizzling and you hear birdsong, but can't see birds. Maya Angelou on the bus to work (Complete Collected Poems), and Walt Whitman (Leaves of Grass) on the bus home; T.S. Eliot (Prufrock and Other Observations) if you're taking lunch at your desk, Billy Collins (Picnic, Lightning) for eating lunch outdoors. Charles Simic (A Wedding in Hell) before dinner, Charles Baudelaire (Les Fleurs du mal ), postprandially, if the peach you'd been saving for dessert got overripe and has to be reclaimed from fruit flies and eaten over the sink. James Baldwin (Jimmy's Blues and Other Poems) to go with chardonnay and the smell of petrichor, Franz Wright (Walking to Martha's Vineyard) on nights when the moon seems too big for its own good. If you can't get to sleep, try a nice epic, say, Derek Walcott's Omeros, but if you wake up suffocating from the heat, crack open Matsuo Bashō's The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches.

[that-1d-blogger]

I don't wanna write this post, I never want to. I don't wanna talk about how great Liam was, or about the songs he wrote.

Because I don't wanna exist in or believe that there is a world where Liam Payne doesn't exist in present tense.

From assuming that this was gonna be some ordinary boyband, to them becoming the reason my tears turn to my smile, I grew up. Everyone always said that I'd "grow out of this boyband phase" and yet 11 years later, I still get excited when any song comes on the radio, or my shuffle list, or when I hear a very beloved high note in a song.

Hell, I squeal like a child whenever I see glimpses of them at some event , or glimpses of them just living their normal life and doing the most mundane thing.

It doesn't feel real, I saw the news as soon as I woke up, and the next few hours were me wishing that this is a fake article, that it's one of those sick nightmares and I'll wake up to reality, that he's just in critical condition or coma , that he's not dead, that he's not GONE, not like THIS, not NOW. This wasn't meant to happen until I'm in my 60's.

What I always loved about Liam was, how gentle AND strong he was. He stood up for things that were right and was fierce enough to start a fight if he needed to protect himself or his loved ones. He was fierce, yes , but the way that boy loved , oh lord, like he's known you for decades to love and care about you that way, his eyes, I always loved how his eyes crinkled when he smiled big (like in the picture). There are very few people who have both of these.

And I always hated how they slowly started losing that spark in the last few years.

Everyone blamed him for every miniscule thing. First it was about "not being as attractive as the other boys, having basic dark features."

Then about that stupid Logan Paul episode. Everyone knows how influencers and media love to twist things and statements to get clicks and views, Logan Paul being notorious for this. Especially when he was clearly intoxicated. Then people started forgetting about him, and whenever he did show up , he was always targeted

1. Harry dances at Niall's concert, it's cute and supportive, Liam does the same and suddenly he's an attention seeker.

2. When some other member is drunk at an public event, "it's so adorable, he's so piss drunk lollll,". When liam looks intoxicated, "ugh the drug addict is back at it again".

3. He supported Zayn and commented on his post asking him to dm. He got dubbed as a 'desperate fangirl'

or stealing Lou's spotlight at his film premiere when all he did was SHOW UP. and then there were thousands of posts about how everyone hates the jaw fat removal treatment he did.

There were a lot of people like us who loved and supported Liam, yes, but I can't help but think he always got the short end of the stick. Every. Single. Time.

And I in no way will ever blame Maya Henry for his death. Or say that she is wrong for speaking up about her experience with Liam . She has the right to express herself and what she went through. We didn't know Liam personally and we'll never know for sure if these allegations were true.

But I will hate her for dishing out some secrets that were supposed to be just between the boys, just to get views and validation. And that sent another wave of haters to Liam.

I wish he got the help, even in his last moments, when he literally CONVULSED and collapsed in the lobby , clearly intoxicated with drugs, they forced him to go to his room alone , high as fuck, with an open balcony.

I wish the world gave him half the love he gave out to others.

He saved a million lives , but million lives couldn't save one.

Liam, I really wish you did stay exactly where you were, you are perfect.

Mainblog

[nayziiz]

Stay | LN4

Summary: A new romantic prospect puts things into perspective in the best and worst ways possible.

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Cara)

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist

CHAPTER 5

While the soft light of morning filtered through the curtains, Lando stirred from his slumber, the comforting weight of Cara's presence still nestled against him. With a gentle touch, he brushed his thumb over her cheek, a tender smile tugging at his lips as he watched her sleep. She stirred at his touch, her eyes fluttering open as she met his gaze, a faint blush tinting her cheeks.

“Lan,” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Cara,” he whispered softly, his voice barely more than a breath.

“I should get out before everyone wakes up,” she added, a note of reluctance colouring her words as she made to move away. But Lando's grip tightened around her waist, pulling her closer with a gentle insistence.

“Just five more minutes?” he pleaded, his voice laced with a quiet longing. Cara hesitated, torn between the warmth of their embrace and the nagging sense of propriety that lingered in the back of her mind.

“This is so wrong, Lan,” she sighed, her fingers tracing the contours of his biceps.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked, his hand caressing her waist in a silent plea for her to stay. Cara paused, her resolve wavering in the face of his gentle persuasion.

“No,” she conceded at last, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she leaned into his touch, allowing him to draw her closer.

As Lando leaned in to kiss Cara, the tender moment was shattered by the abrupt sound of a loud knock echoing through the apartment from the front door. He pulled away with a frustrated sigh, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes.

“Shit. That's probably Maya,” Lando muttered, his voice tinged with frustration as he scrambled out of bed and onto his feet, the urgency of the situation propelling him into action.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Cara countered, her tone laced with resignation as she quickly followed Lando to the bedroom door, her mind already racing with thoughts of the inevitable consequences of their impulsive actions.

As Lando swung open his bedroom door, he was met with the surprised expression of his sister, Flo, who had also moved to answer the front door. Her eyes widened in shock when she noticed Cara standing behind her brother, a flush of embarrassment colouring her cheeks.

“What the hell?” Flo whisper-shouted at her brother, her voice a mixture of disbelief and indignation.

“It's not what you think,” Lando hurriedly reassured his sister, his own cheeks flushing with embarrassment as Cara made her way into the kitchen, seeking refuge from the awkward confrontation.

Following Cara into the kitchen, Flo wasted no time in launching into a cross-examination, her voice low and urgent as she sought answers to the questions swirling in her mind. Meanwhile, Lando moved to open the apartment door once more, only to come face-to-face with Maya.

“Hey, baby,” Maya greeted him with a bright smile, leaning in to kiss him without hesitation.

“Hey,” Lando greeted her back, returning the kiss with a sense of familiarity that only added to the tension in the air. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Maya agreed, stepping into the apartment as Lando held the door open for her.

As Cara busied herself with gathering the necessary ingredients to brew a pot of coffee, Flo couldn't help but shoot a questioning glance at Cara, her curiosity piqued by the unexpected turn of events.

“What is happening with you and Lando?” Flo asked quietly, her voice filled with concern and confusion. Cara met her gaze with a reassuring smile, her expression tinged with a hint of apprehension.

“I'll tell you later, I promise,” she insisted, hoping to alleviate Flo's concerns while buying herself some time to process the whirlwind of emotions that had enveloped them all.

As Lando and Maya entered the kitchen, the atmosphere grew tense, the weight of unspoken tensions hanging heavy in the air. Cara felt as though her heart was pounding in her chest, the sound echoing in her ears like a drumbeat of anxiety. She couldn't shake the feeling of sickness that churned in the pit of her stomach, the realisation sinking in that they never should have spent the night together in that bed.

“Cara,” Maya greeted her reluctantly, her voice strained with a hint of discomfort.

“Hi, Maya,” Cara replied, forcing a polite smile despite the turmoil swirling inside her.

Across the room, Lando met Cara's gaze, his own cheeks flushed with embarrassment. For a moment, their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a myriad of emotions passing between them like fleeting shadows. In that moment of shared vulnerability, Cara couldn't help but wonder how they had found themselves in this complicated mess, and what it would take to untangle the knots of confusion and desire that bound them together.

As the morning unfolded, Cara found herself struggling to keep her composure as she watched Maya attach herself to Lando's side, their easy familiarity stoking the embers of jealousy and uncertainty that smouldered within her. With each tender gesture and shared glance between them, Cara felt a pang of longing that she couldn't quite shake.

When Pietra eventually stirred from her slumber, Cara seized the opportunity to escape the suffocating confines of the apartment, the need to distance herself from Maya and Lando driving her forward with a sense of urgency. With persuasive words and a hint of desperation in her voice, she convinced Pietra and Flo to join her for a walk and some shopping, their presence offering a welcome distraction from the tangled web of emotions that threatened to consume her.

As they wandered through the bustling streets, the rhythmic cadence of their footsteps serving as a comforting anchor amidst the chaos of the city, Cara felt a sense of relief wash over her. With each passing moment, the weight of Maya and Lando's presence lifted from her shoulders, replaced by the simple joy of being surrounded by her best friend, and Flo, who had become a very close confidant since she became friends with Lando.

“Okay, so why were you in my brother's room this morning?” Flo asked after a few minutes of silent walking through the streets of Monte Carlo.

Cara's heart skipped a beat at Flo's unexpected question, her mind racing to formulate a response that would deflect suspicion without revealing the true nature of her encounter with Lando.

“What?” Pietra exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned to Cara for an explanation. Cara took a deep breath, summoning all her composure as she met Flo's probing gaze.

“He didn't want me sleeping on the couch, so he offered me his bed,” she explained, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside her. “And then he ended up falling asleep while we were talking. It's really not that serious, I swear.”

There was a flicker of doubt in Flo's eyes, but she seemed to accept Cara's explanation for the time being. Pietra, however, still looked sceptical, her brow furrowed with concern.

“I don't know, Cara,” Pietra said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It just seems a bit... odd, don't you think?”

Cara forced a reassuring smile, masking the unease that twisted in her gut.

“Trust me, there's nothing going on between me and Lando,” she insisted, hoping her words sounded convincing enough to quell any further suspicions.

“If you two did anything, that's your business. Just know I prefer that over Maya any day,” Pietra commented, her tone matter-of-fact yet tinged with a hint of amusement. Flo nodded in agreement, her expression mirroring Pietra's sentiments.

“I'm just glad I'm not the only one who doesn't like her,” Flo chimed in, her voice tinged with relief. “Our Mom is convinced she's just using Lando for fame.”

Pietra chuckled at Flo’s comment, her laughter mingling with the sounds of the bustling city around them.

Cara’s phone beeped, distracting her from the conversation unfolding between Pietra and Flo about Maya. Cara's heart skipped a beat as she read Lando's messages, the weight of his words sinking in with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

“I'm sorry, I should have told you she was coming over this morning. You OK?” His message read, a hint of concern evident in his words. Cara paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she struggled to find the right response.

“She's your girlfriend, she should come over whenever she feels like it,” she typed out, her tone carefully neutral despite the twinge of bitterness that lingered in her chest. But Lando's next message caught her off guard.

“Are you OK?” he asked, his concern evident in the simple question.

“Just fine, Lan. Stop stressing,” Cara replied, forcing the positivity despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside her.

And then, as if sensing her unspoken thoughts, Lando added, “She's not my girlfriend, by the way.”

Max seized the opportunity when Maya disappeared to the bathroom, finally able to address the tension that had been palpable in Lando's demeanour all morning.

“What's up with you this morning?” Max asked quietly, ensuring that Maya couldn't overhear their conversation. Lando let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them.

“I think I've made a big mistake,” he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

“What do you mean?” Max inquired, his brow furrowing with concern as he regarded his friend. Lando hesitated, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions that churned inside him.

“I don't know how to explain it,” he began, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right words to articulate the tumultuous thoughts that raced through his mind. “I don't think I like Maya as much as I thought I did.”

“What changed your mind?” Max inquired, curiosity evident in his tone. Lando let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his confession hanging in the air.

“Cara,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and longing. “I found her in the simulator room asleep with one of my helmets, man.”

A knowing smile spread across Max's face.

“She melted that heart of yours, didn't she?” he chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. Lando couldn't help but smile at Max's teasing, though his expression quickly turned sombre once more.

“I don't know what to think, Max,” he confessed, uncertainty clouding his thoughts as he grappled with the complexities of his feelings for both Cara and Maya.

Before Max could respond, Maya returned, her presence a stark reminder of the tangled web of emotions that Lando found himself ensnared in. With a heavy heart, he pushed aside his doubts and insecurities, plastering on a smile as Maya made herself comfortable beside him once more, the weight of his unspoken feelings lingering in the air like a silent confession.

“We all should go out tonight,”  Maya suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Max raised an eyebrow, his expression sceptical.

“Flo and Brandon aren't old enough to go into clubs,” Max pointed out. But Maya waved off his concern with a casual shrug.

“The kids can stay here or do something on their own,” she suggested. “I'm sure Cara would rather stay back here with Flo and Brandon than go clubbing with the rest of us.”

Lando frowned, feeling a surge of protectiveness over Cara at Maya's suggestion.

“Perhaps Cara should decide for herself,” he interjected, his voice firm yet gentle as he spoke up in defence of his friend.

[nyaagolor]

The software I use at work is Not Working and I have an hour to kill before I can go home so here’s some HCs about assorted characters’ living situations bc I wanted to make notes for myself for fic purposes:

Phoenix: Used to live in a regular apartment, but moved into the apartment above Wright and Co Law offices with Trucy after his disbarment. Edgeworth paid off the building’s mortgage after Turnabout Goodbyes so Phoenix doesn’t have to worry about rent

Edgeworth: Owns a penthouse in LA. He rents hotel penthouse suites while in Europe but doesn’t have a permanent one anywhere other than LA because he thinks it’s a hassle. There’s a locked room in the LA penthouse filled with Steel Samurai merch

Gumshoe: Rents the shittiest basement studio you have ever seen. Does not own a bed. Genuinely questionable if the building is up to code (it’s prolly not)

Maya: Lived in Kurain Village until Mia’s death, then moved into the apartment above the office. After BttT she moves back to Kurain

Pearl: Lived in Kurain until her mother’s incarceration, then moved in with Maya in the upstairs apartment, then back to Kurain with Maya after BttT

Mia: Lived in Kurain Village until she founded Fey and Co law offices with Diego, at which point they moved into the apartment upstairs together until her death

Diego: Lived in a regular LA apartment until he founded Fey and Co with Mia. They moved into the upstairs apartment together until his coma. When he wakes from the coma he spends about half a year recovering in the hospital, then throughout AA3 just loiters around the courthouse because he refuses to speak to Phoenix. After BttT he goes to prison and moves in with Maya and Pearl in Kurain Village after his release

Franziska: Technically lives in the von Karma estate with her mother and sister, but is so busy traveling that she mostly stays in hotels. She used to spend holidays there, but Edgeworth has taken to inviting her to stay with him because she's not very close with the rest of her family, so now her room is mostly just storage.

Ema: Her and Lana lived in their parents’ house together until Lana’s imprisonment, during which Ema moves to Europe with an exchange family. When Ema returns from Europe, she moves back into the house with Lana joining her when she’s released

Apollo: He lived on the road with Thalassa and Jove until the latter’s death, then with Dhurke in the countryside, then in an American orphanage until he was 18, at which point I imagine he crashes on Clay’s couch for most of law school because he is technically an orphaned illegal immigrant with absolutely no money or credit. The internship with Kristoph and his job with the WAA gets him enough money to actually rent a place, but his lack of documentation and student loans mean he’s in the cheapest possible apartment. He keeps it extremely neat but there's only so much one can do. He and gumshoe can commiserate about it.

Trucy: Lived mostly on the road / in the tourbus + hotels with her dad and the troupe until she was adopted by Phoenix, at which point she moved into the apartment above the WAA

Klavier: Lived in his parents’ mansion with Kristoph until going to Themis. When he moved back he had enough money from gigging / his band to buy a fancy ass house and still lives there. It’s a little lonely by himself but when he let Daryan throw parties there it was POPPIN

Kristoph: Lived in his parents’ mansion his entire life. He got ownership of it when they died and raised Klavier in it, and continued to live there until he got arrested. Now he’s cushy in solitary cell 13

Athena: Lived in the space center then was shipped off to European relatives when her mom died. When she moved back to the states she got a decent apartment bc her WAA income was supplemented by those rich as hell European relatives

Simon: Lived in a small apartment with his sister growing up, which he continued to live in after she moved to the Space Center. It was sold when he was incarcerated. After his release he moved in with Athena briefly (no one thought it was a good idea for him to live alone) then to a small but nice apartment, which Edgeworth paid for until he could get back on his feet financially

[icycoldninja]

Hii!! I’m the one who requested the Goddess of tattoos, its amazing thank u !!

Can I request the same thing with the twin, Nero and V with the goddess of death (Lady Micte from Maya and the three)

I’d like to add a few details is that she adores sunflowers, and she can understand and talk to animals!! Here’s a better understanding of her powers (if u don’t mind) https://youtu.be/eRukGWAVUBw?si=hS35U46MKJbYy8Pg

Again thank you sm !! 🙏

Aww thanks, here ya go!

Sparda boys + V x Goddess of Death!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante loves watching you shape-shifting because you can become literally anything you want.

-A cat, a dog, a bird, a turtle, a goldfish, a horse, a cow, heck, even a pig, you can become it all, and it amazes him.

-Being able to talk to animals means you can make neighborhood animals serve you, if you desired. Before long, you and Dante have an army of squirrels bringing you tribute every morning, and none of your neighbors know why.

-You can also use these talents for the greater good, such as terrorizing Vergil with a flock of ravens that are angry at him for no apparent reason.

-Your ability to control the dead is a serious boon in battle because you can summon the souls of dead demons and other creatures to fight for you.

-You also know when someone (or something) is about to die and Dante thinks that's incredible. It might be morbid, yeah, but it's also really useful in certain situations.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil thinks your floral fashion sense is cute, but he'd rather die than say that out loud.

-Instead, he will gift you flowers nearly every day when you wake up, without a word. You'll find him sitting on the edge of the bed with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands, which he will awkwardly thrust into your face.

-Your shapeshifting ability is a surefire way to confuse the hell out of him; one moment you'll be you, the next, a massive cat lounging in his lap.

-Once he heard you were able to communicate with animals and actually make them do your bidding, he decided it was time to get some sweet revenge on his asshole of a brother.

-He asked if you could command all your neighbors' pets (dogs, cats, etc.) to attack Dante on sight. You agreed, and now Dante's scared to come over.

-When he sees that you can summon and control the souls of the dead, it dawned upon him that you are the possessor of TRUE POWER, and that he must now learn from you.

□ Nero □

-Thinks your face paint is hot as hell and your dress style is cool.

-Was terrified when he saw you shapeshift for the first time because he witnessed his lovely girlfriend change into a huge, definitely carnivorous saber-toothed tiger that should have been extinct, which then proceeded to growl and tackle him to the ground.

-Don't worry, Nero didn't have a heart attack and quickly managed to gather himself after you reverted to your normal state and explained you could change into whatever you wanted, and that tackling him was a fun way to show your love.

-Now tackling Nero becomes a common occurrence--even a greeting.

-He gets uncomfortable when you summon souls of the dead to fight because they remind him of demons, but chooses to look away and not think about it. As long as you're in control, nothing bad can happen.

-Your ability to predict death also unsettles him, but on the bright side, if someone's in mortal danger, you'll know immediately.

● V ●

-V finds your love of flowers and affinity with death ironic. You, the goddess of death and overseer of all that is dark, love flowers, specifically sunflowers, which could be considered the direct opposite of death. Oh, the irony.

-Watching you shapeshift is a delight; he once saw you turn into an exact replica of Shadow and was subsequently crushed under the weight of not one, but two affectionate felines.

-You can also communicate with all his familiars in their own "language", allowing for secret conversations and an easier time hiding surprises because they collaborate with you without him knowing.

-He finds your ability to control the dead morbidly enchanting; seeing you and your thralls dance around the battlefield inspires him.

-He could (and has at some point) fill a notebook with his rambling and musing about your ability; the images it invokes into his mind, and how darkly enchanting it is.

-Since you can predict death, you can tell him when he's about to die. Once again, it's a dark, dark thought, but someday it will happen, which is when he'll need you the most.

[rrcraft-and-lore]

You know the Norse 9 realms perhaps. Yggdrasil, the world tree. But the idea of a world tree, cosmic tree, exists in many cultures/mythos. But what of the Vedic 14 realms? The Lokas.

Let's discuss.

As said, there are 14 worlds/realms 7 higher ones 7 lower ones.

Following?

7+7=14

We're not using Terrance Howard math here.

Okay. These are the Vedic lokas (because there is a more commonly accepted number in Hinduism - nuance moment: commonly accepted, doesn't mean it's believed in totality by everyone).

K, back to the 14 first.

The higher 7 lokas are said to be the heavens, inhabited by the gods and celestial beings more affiliated/closer to "truth" - in vedic and hindu terms, this is idea of divine truth, waking up to the realizations of the universe - maya (the grand illusion), think more awakened, fully formed, wise, have achieved some form of spiritual liberation from ego and the like). And to counter - the 7 lower are often thought of as "hells" - not exactly fire and brimstone but where you suffer the consequences of bad karma, having to live out/purify yourself.

In some iterations, yes, hellish beings to use that phrase, and demons (of a like) can occupy those lower lokas.

As mentioned earlier, in Hinduism, one of the most common take on the lokas is the: Trailokya.

Or three lokas, three spheres, planes of existence, three worlds, often considered: Earth (Bhuloka), Heaven (Svarga), Hell (Naraka), or - Earth (Bhuloka), Heaven (Svarga), and the Netherworld (Patala).

This is just a primer - because of the birth of Buddhism and it's spread, the idea of lokas spread as well to cultures that later adopted Buddhism. So there is a Tibetan Buddhist take on lokas, a Chinese Buddhist one, Vietnamese, and there is even a Jainism interpretation/belief on lokas.

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 27: A Greater Woman Wouldn't Beg

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: You fight for your life as the paramedics take you to the hospital. The first time, you wake up without Michael but in the presence of your best friend. The second time, Sarah has accepted defeat.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of injury, blood, mentions of violence, medical setting, flashback, descriptions of child abuse & abuse in general, fight or flight response, trauma triggers

Word Count: 5.5k

A/n: I was hoping to get this done sooner, but then I got sick and swamped by uni work, so I only now got it done. The next chapter will be Michael's POV of this. I wanted to make that a separate part, so I focused on Reader's POV for this one, and then you guys will figure out what Michael was really up when he didn't pick up.

Your hands are wet. Slippery. They smell like citrus and rosemary, a mixture of scents you have never quite enjoyed. Why would your blood smell like chicken seasoning, anyway? And why would it foam clearly in your hands, almost as though it was mostly water?

You look up with your eyebrows furrowed. The walls are anything but dark. Ivory wallpaper without accents; you swore you would never paint the walls of your home the same color. It is utterly tryst and boring for a house that has harbored many horrors in your lifetime. 

You’re standing before the sink, the dishes running through your hands like quicksand. And they’re so much smaller. Bruises litter your skin like a mosaic masterpiece. Purple and blue blend into green, which doesn’t make any sense; blue and green should not make purple, but the skin is somehow wired that way. 

All you remember is the creaking of your floorboards, Dublin eerily quiet outside as your heart beat up to your throat, and then the light went out and someone—a stranger who had not anticipated your arrival—attacked you. The shards from your favorite vase were a weapon of opportunity. It felt like someone was draining the air from your lungs with a rough cut. He sliced you open without a care. You tried calling Michael and screaming for him, but it was all a gurgle. And then, you remember, the world went dark.

The streets of London’s suburbs are quiet. You’re not supposed to be here. 

“This is wrong,” you murmur. “This is all wrong.”

Maybe you died and went to hell? Looking down at yourself, you don’t find any evidence of blood. Your skin remains undisturbed. The radio is playing an early 2000s ballad. You don’t remember hearing it in a while. A chill runs down your spine. 

The volume is just loud enough to tune out the screaming from the room across the hall. The snapping of leather that cuts through the air like a lightning bolt and does not care about the sound barrier has always been so deafening. Your bruises sting when you listen closely, and the music moves into the background as it had too many times back then. You could still hear everything. Every cry for help, every one of his disgusting words against her because she never did the dishes right. 

You should be washing the, going over it a million times until you can see your reflection in the porcelain, or you will be next. It’s then that the screaming stops. Your pulse spikes. The air in your lungs gets trapped by a thin rubber band. It’s straining, and your heart feels like it’s bleeding out. You can’t breathe. 

He calls your name. Your hands are still wet. Slippery. You can’t turn to the sink fast enough. 

Ever since you can remember, you have been looking for someone to blame other than yourself for the way he treated you. Your mother never even tried to protect you when he laid his hands on you, but you would hear her cries every night when he let whatever frustrations he had left out on her. Maya and Ellie were never planned, and it makes you sick to your stomach to think about it. There is a certain amount of guilt that comes with blaming someone who can’t be blamed because she, too, is only a victim. But she has never felt like a mother to you, to begin with; she has always resented you because, in a way, you will always remind her of him. She’s so deep in it, you could never pull her out. And maybe that is why, in your mind, you blame her for all the times he hurt you and she wasn’t there. But it wasn’t her fault.

Part of you wonders if she would be able to get better once he’s gone, but she has always refused to believe in him as the devil. Stockholm syndrome. He looks so innocent, but he holds a power your mother’s fragile mind has never been able to withstand, and unless she wants to leave him, you won’t be able to help her. 

But oh, it is so easy to blame someone other than your father—to blame everyone around you who only stood by and watched and continues to trust him blindly even now. 

You were never good enough because you dared to disagree, never living up to expectations. Maya hit the spot better than you ever could, and Ellie was just collateral damage. God, your heart burns. Everything about you is on fire. It has always been a game to him. If he can’t control and manipulate someone else, he will fall apart. And in trying to break the cycle, you inevitably put a target on everyone else’s back. 

The echo of the belt whipping through the air is forever tattooed on your brain. He calls your name from the hallway, and the floorboards creak like they did in your apartment. His steps are heavy, always landing with the back first to make the most noise. And he’s wearing those steel boots again he was issued for work. They hurt the most when they fracture your ribs. 

You grab the plate just as his face appears in the doorway. He’s distorted. Your mind refuses to let him in, knowing it will break you. The pictures caught him so clearly, but nothing does your memory justice. The way he used to look at you, as though he was dead inside. 

Your hands are so slippery though. The porcelain falls, and before you can catch it, it shatters. The pain tears through your side. Your lungs are sucking in air, but it isn’t to sustain them; they are falling apart. 

The soap turns crimson. Black holes start to dance in your vision. The air gets trapped in your skin, and soon enough, you’re falling again, through the wood and into the atmosphere. 

“She’s comin’ back,” a strange voice sounds through the endless void. 

You blink your eyes open against the harsh light trying to blind you. Blue and yellow and white. Hell looks a lot different than you expected. It doesn’t hurt though, it’s just heavy. A cloud settles over you, and this constant obnoxious beeping next to your ear pulls you out of the thick syrup you landed in. 

The smell of antiseptic fills your nose next, harsh and unforgiving. It’s not citrus and rosemary. You can’t hear his voice anymore, but you didn’t dry your hands. They’re still wet, not slippery but sticky now. And they’re so heavy, you can’t move them. The world around you morphs into a pit of oil instead. 

You try to move again, but your limbs feel like they’re encased in cement. Something is covering your face. Plastic. So much oxygen in your lungs, and they keep burning. Why is no one helping you? You’re breathing, and the air is so clear you might go into shock because no human is supposed to breathe air this clean, right? You don’t understand, and you don’t remember... 

“Easy, easy,” the same voice says softly. You can’t make out her face. “You gave us quite a scare. Your lung collapsed, but you’re gonna be okay.”

You try to lift the mask from your face, but a gentle hand stops you. “You’ve gotta keep that on, dear,” she tells you. And then the light gets brighter as she shines it directly into your eyes. “It’s best if you don’t try to talk. We’re almost at the hospital. Can you give me a nod yes if you remember what happened to ya?”

It’s your responsibility, you think. You try to nod your head, but it’s so heavy. 

“Alright, good girl. Do you remember your name?”

Again, you nod. 

“That’s good. Perfect. Pupils equal and reactive. Breath sounds equal. And the patient is responsive,” she says toward you, but you know it’s not directed at you. Right now, she’s just a blotch of light in a world full of darkness.

You still lift the mask from your mouth because if you’re responsive, you have to respond. “Mi—” you cut yourself off. Your tongue hurts. He didn’t pick up when you called. Why do you want to say his name when he seems to be done with you? 

Your lung collapsed and the first person you think of is him, but you don’t seem to be on his mind. And you can’t count on him. Not right now. Maybe not ever again, but that isn’t his fault. You walked out. If you die, at least he can’t blame himself. Or is it more of a question of when?

“Sarah,” you slur instead. Whatever pain medication they gave you, it’s working wonderfully; you’re as high as a kite. 

The strange voice asks, “Sarah?” 

She must think you’re not as lucid as she suspected. You shake your head, or maybe you’re nodding. “Call… Sarah,” you finally manage to say. And two words are better than none. 

“Sarah,” the paramedic repeats, nodding as if to assure you she understands. You can see the halo moving. “Okay. We’ll call Sarah for ya. Just try to relax.”

You let the mask fall back into place, too exhausted to protest further. They’re calling Sarah. Because you don’t have anyone else. A pain spreads through your chest, but it is nowhere physical. It spreads through your soul like wildfire, and even through the fog, you can feel the tear slipping from your eye and down your cheek. The salt burns in the cut on your lip. 

The angel is right there with you. As your vision becomes clearer, your body seems to thaw. You grunt. “Looks like you’re in pain,” she says. “I’ll give two more milligrams of morphine.”

Morphine. That’s what it is. Before the pain in your side can come back with a vengeance, it is stopped by the delicious liquid she administers to your infusion. The world grows instantly fuzzier again. 

The ambulance rocks gently as it speeds towards the hospital, at least that is where you are starting to suspect you are, and the world outside the windows blurs into streaks of light. Hypnotizing streaks of light. Your eyes roll back into your skull. 

The darkness engulfs you. You’re floating in a black sea full of nothing. The tide carries you for miles and miles and then some. You flail around helplessly until you eventually decide to give up. It’s of no use anyway. You float for a while, carried for an eternity more until the rushing of the ocean turns into the unmistakable sound of your own heart. 

The first real thing you feel is a dull ache in your skull. Your nerve endings are desperately tearing at each other. The beeping gets louder, accompanied by a throbbing in your ribcage. It’s not your heart; the pain tears through your skin and the muscles below, and every time you try to take a conscious breath, you’re inhaling toxic smoke. 

You open your eyes. The light is less bright here. It’s blurry, at first, but the world slowly comes to life again. You’re sore all over, but as far as you can tell, you’re alive and no longer high on opioids. How long have you been out? It must have been hours.

And then it hits you again—what happened. The intruder, the missing file, the broken vase, and his hands all over you. Your neck still aches. You can feel his fingers trying to squeeze the life out of you, but you wouldn’t budge. You remember contemplating how to take your life when you were just a child, but tonight, you chose to fight back. And it landed you here. 

You have been in worse pain. The feeling of waking up alone has therefore become more than familiar over the years. Just you and the beeping monitors. You wonder if they can show a broken heart. 

Lifting your tired arm, you reach for the cannulas in your nose. You can breathe fine; you don’t need them. You don’t even need to be here. 

“Hey, don’t…” The blur turns into a person. You can’t quite believe your eyes.

Sarah crosses the room and stops your eager fingers in their tracks, and upon looking at her worry-stricken face you realize that you did not just wake up alone; they called her, after all. Like you asked them to. And you’re not alone. 

The monitor picks up speed. “Sarah,” you whisper. 

“It’s me,” she says. “You’re okay. You’re at the hospital, but you’re okay.” From the sound of her voice, you can tell she’s been crying. Sarah never cries.

You smack your lips. “Uh, what… what happened?”

You know what happened, but you can’t see it. You can’t close your eyes and pull up a visual of the events because every time you do, you see nothing but darkness. Your memory isn’t working the way it should—nothing is. 

She wipes her cheeks. Vulnerability seeps out of her pores like body odor. The pity in her eyes turns into knives to your chest. “Someone broke into your flat and… they attacked you,” she says. Her voice still has a certain edge to it. “Your lung collapsed, but they managed to put a needle in there and now you’re all better. You didn’t even need surgery, just a blood transfusion. I actually donated while I was waiting ‘cause it was killin’ me that it took them so long to fix you up.”

The needle would explain the pain in your lungs. You reach for her hand.

“When they called, I thought… God, I thought you were dead. I was so worried about you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

“What were you thinking?” There it is, the anger. “You should’ve called the police.”

“I know, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking.”

Sarah raises her voice, “I almost lost you tonight!” 

The echo drills into your ears. You flinch. The guilt hadn’t already been eating you alive, it certainly would start now. The burning behind your eyes returns, and this time, you don’t stand a chance. You try to blink them away, but it’s futile. 

“I know, and I’m… I didn’t mean to do this to you.” You swallow. 

“Does this have anything to do with Michael? Did he get you into this? ‘Cause if he did, I’m gonna kill that bastard.”

“No!” You try to sit up, but the sudden movement tears at the stitches in your side. Every nerve under your skin protests. You stretch, and it burns. With a grunt, you fall back against the mattress. “No,” you repeat. “He didn’t…” 

This is what you were worried about. It crossed your mind before it happened that the person in your apartment might have been hired by the Kinsellas to steal the valuable information you collected; it was the only thing you had to fuel your agenda, and someone took it. You didn’t tell anyone but Michael, so it would make sense that his family had something to do with it, but after talking to Jimmy, you seriously doubt it. You almost died. If they wanted you dead, you would be dead. It’s a terrifyingly sober thought, but it’s the truth. 

But if the Kinsellas aren’t behind it, someone else must have found out. Someone from your past, perhaps. And how do you tell the police that someone broke into your apartment not to steal money but to steal a mere paper file?

Sarah sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “The police are going to want to talk to you,” she says, expertly changing the subject. “They said nothing seems to have been stolen, but they need your confirmation, and they’re hoping you can identify the man who did this to you.”

Again, you shake your head. “I didn’t see his face,” you admit.

“I figured, but I think they need to know who you’ve been associating yourself with.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Who I’ve been–” you grunt again when you move against the clear protest of your wound. “Who’s side are you on?” you ask her. 

She looks so guilty, afraid to even meet your eyes. 

“Michael’s family has nothing to do with this. Don’t ask me how I know, I just… I just know.”

“Then where is he, huh?” Her voice takes on a slightly accusatory tone. You’re not sure if it’s directed at you or Michael, but you’re not in the mood to have this conversation. 

You shake your head. The lump in your throat is stuck. You can’t speak. 

Sarah utters your name, but it only sets fire to the gasoline. “You almost died and Michael isn’t here,” she says. “Who knows, maybe it was him? You can’t know if you didn’t see his face! I mean, why are you protecting him and his family when he couldn’t even be bothered to be here?”

It hurts to hear her say that. It hurts to even imagine that scenario to be true. You know it isn’t, but she believes it, and that breaks your already shattered heart beyond repair.

“I’m not,” you choke out. “He has nothing to do with this. I…” You find yourself unable to speak, too caught up in the pain that spreads through your body and your soul. 

You can see his face when you close your eyes, and God, you miss him. 

“Then where is he?” she asks again. It’s almost as though she believes she has the whole thing figured out just because she was so worried about you. But she doesn’t. 

You grit your teeth. A tear makes its salty path south. “We broke up!” you snap, your voice echoing across the room like a sharp arrow penetrating the sound barrier. “We had a fight and then I left, and that’s probably why he didn’t pick up because he was just as hurt as me, but–” You have to cut yourself off to catch a strangled breath. Your lungs barely have the same capacity they had before. 

Sarah’s jaw slacks at the revelation. The words take a second to sink in, but when they do, it dawns on her like a gigantic shadow. Instead of an ‘I told you so’, she exhales shakily, “Oh.” Nothing else seems to come to her mind at that moment. 

Your heart drums against your ribcage. You inhale, sitting further up to ease the pressure on your wound and calm your racing pulse that is starting to upset the monitor beside your bed. 

Another pained groan passes your lips. “My gut is telling me his family isn’t behind this because whoever broke into my apartment was an idiot, and the Kinsellas are not,” you tell her. “You want to blame Michael for not being here? Fine! But he would never hurt me. Don’t… don’t say that.”

You begin to see it again; the blood on the dark floorboards transferring to your phone as you tried to dial his number with the last of your strength, but he didn’t pick up. He was the only person you could think of when you thought you were going to die, and he wasn’t there. He didn’t even come.

Finally, the lump lodges free in a devastating sob, landing like a burning meteor from the depth of your chest. 

Sarah wraps her arm around your shaking shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

You don’t fight it; you bury your face in her chest, clinging to her instead of letting go. Pieces of drywall start coming off the borders around your heart. The sobs wreck your body with an intensity that could match the force of a landmine. 

When you woke up, you were hoping, even if just for a second, Michael would be there to hold your hand. You would have given up your belief that the two of you were meant to be dysfunctional for a taste of the comfort you know only he can provide you. But it’s all just a fever dream, and he isn’t here.

You beg yourself to breathe through the inferno spreading from your wound to the remaining space of your chest cavity. This pain can’t easily be fixed by morphine or a high flow of oxygen. It’s a deep-rooted and emotional pain; everything around you becomes secondary. 

The sobs wrack your body, but you can’t stop. You can't fight back against the avalanche heading for your town. You’ve lost everything. Trying to keep your head above water only pulled you further under. You can still feel the stranger's hands on your body, the sound of porcelain crashing to the floor. You were trying to steer off the inevitable like a fool, and in the process, you have made things a million times worse. Admitting defeat would lead to the demise of what you love, but what else can you do when the danger is no longer trying to hide, lying in wait?

The door swings open. A nurse steps in, and her eyes widen at the sight. “Heart rate and pulse ox are climbing,” you faintly hear her say. “She’s having a panic attack.”

You want to protest. You’re okay; you’re just crying, and they should take care of the ticking bomb next to your ear first. It beeps and beeps and beeps even louder. It takes you forever to notice that the bomb you’re hearing is actually your heart about to explode. 

“Well, do something!” Sarah shrieks, her chest shaking under you. “She’s going to hurt herself.”

Someone calls your name, and they tell you something about a sedative, but your ears are under a thick stream of water. The sterile walls start to close in around you. You can feel your heart racing in your throat like you’re going to throw it up on a silver platter and everyone will see how damaged you truly are.

You thrash weakly, your lips moving without your mind’s approval. “No,” you sob. You don't want them to sedate you. “Please…” Your pleas meet an empty void. 

The nurse swiftly prepares a syringe that, out of the corner of your eye looks almost like a loaded gun. You don't want to sleep. You can’t. You deserve this. “This will help you relax,” she says. “Just breathe, okay? We don't want your lung collapsing again.”

The needle doesn’t pierce your skin, but it might as well have. A sudden cool rush spreads through your veins. The world blurs at the edges, colors bleeding into each other until they turn black. Your sobs slow down. You try to scream, but every muscle in your body slacks against your will. The clock stops ticking. The wave catches up to you as you’re swimming away, and with jaws made of glass, the depths of the ocean finally take you under, eating you alive. 

Someone whispers, “You’re going to be okay,” into the darkness, but the angel doesn’t have a face. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to hold on or keep floating. There is no beginning or end where you are. The ground is gone. It’s never going to end, you fear, drowning in your tears until you’re sucked into another black hole for the rest of your life. 

You succumb to it. You let the current drag you down, and then, you drown. 

You drown for the longest time, closing your eyes and accepting your fate. Until a hand dives into the water, searching for you. You blink, and you reach for it, not knowing who it belongs to but someone is trying to save you, so why not allow them to? An eerily familiar feeling fills you with warmth. 

The closer you inch to the surface, the louder the real world around you gets. You hear the beeping again, steadier this time. Someone must have defused the bomb. And there is a soft touch against your forehead, fingertips grazing your burning skin. Your eyes flutter.

A soft baritone calls for you. It’s familiar, but the sensations around you are dulled to an extent you can barely feel your legs. You adjust to the light in the room, and the heaviness of your eyelids that seems to want to drag you back down. His silhouette is a blur, at first, but once you find those comforting brown eyes staring down at you with a river of tears inside, you recognize him, and you’re suddenly wide awake. 

“Michael?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart contracts. Instead of conflict, all you feel is the sheer pleasure of relief when you see his face. His tired, beautiful face. And he’s real. He’s not a dream. You may not feel your body, but your mind is coming back to you, and you see him so clearly next to you, a sight for sore eyes and a balm for your broken heart. 

He came.

A tear slides down his cheek, but he wipes it before you can comment on it. Your throat is dry. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bopping with the silence that engulfs you. The air crackles. You’re not sure how to react. Your entire body vibrates with a need you have never felt before, but how can you get over what happened? It’s right there between you; you can feel the tension that has spun a net between you, and it’s almost like your lungs are collapsing all over again. 

But then Michael reaches out, his calloused fingers brushing your tear-stained cheek. “Yeah. I’m here,” he says. “I’m here, my love.”

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck with a broken exhale. He has never engulfed you faster, building a secure cocoon around you where nothing and no one can touch you. Your breaths are strangled. He wasn’t there before, but now he is, and it’s like you were never apart in the first place. Because you needed him like air, and he is the only one who knows how to make the pain go away because he knows you. 

“You didn’t pick up,” you mutter against his sweater. I thought we were over, you want to say.

He nods, squeezing you tighter. Your stitches protest, but you ignore them. He can tear them open one by one if he pleases, as long as he just holds you. “I know,” he says, barely keeping it together. “I’m so sorry. I was… I was meetin’ with Jimmy, and… I turned it off. I turned it off.” His voice cracks. So much guilt can’t possibly fit into one person.

Your nails dig into his back. “It’s okay,” now you’re the one comforting him. 

“No. If I’d known… Fuck! I thought… I thought I lost ya.”

“I’m sorry.”

Michael pulls away, eyes boring into yours. He cups your face. “Don’t do tha’,” he growls. “Don’t do this to yerself. It wasn’t your fault, I swear.”

You close your eyes. His gaze is so intense. He nudges you back to look at him. “Who did this to ya, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you confess. “I didn’t… I didn’t see his face. But he, uh… he stole the… the file. On my sister. And when I tried to stop him, he… he…”

“Wha’?” The look on his face is nothing short of terrifying, even as it blurs through your tears. “Did he touch you?” When he gets angry, his eyes tend to black out. It usually sends a chill down your spine, but tonight, you need him to look at you like that. You need him to be angry because anger is the strongest motivator, and you are too weak to display the true intensity of your feelings.

You motion to your throat with shaky fingers. “He ch–” The word refuses to come out. “Mhh–” You try to regulate your breathing. “He ch–choked me.” 

You have not yet looked into a mirror, but the soreness suggests quite a bit of bruising. Sarah didn’t say anything. You went through hell and the most obvious injury, the wound on your side, seems bad enough to think about. They probably swabbed under your fingernails already to get what little DNA evidence you tried to gather by fighting back, but you have little hope that the assailant is to be found in any database. And he wore gloves, that much you know. You can still taste the leather. Talking about it makes you eerily sick to your stomach. 

Another sob bubbles up in your chest; you choke on it. “And then he stabbed me,” you cry. “He stabbed me, and my lung collapsed, and… I thought I was going to die.”

Michael growls, physically forcing your face back into the crook of his neck. 

“Don’t leave me.”

You were the first to leave, and it was a mistake. You regret it with your entire bruised being to have ever let him go. You’re not entitled to his love, but if he left you now, you know you wouldn’t survive—because losing him is worse than dying. 

He presses your face further into the crook of his neck. “I’m not leavin’,” he says. “You’re safe now. No one’s gonna lay a hand on ya again.”

The words break the dam. “Please,” you beg, not knowing what for. 

“Shhh,” he shushes you. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” you ramble. “I was just sad and angry, and… we were both going through something. Hell, you told me about Anna and all I thought of doing was leave. I’m so fucking sorry, Michael. I don’t know how to make this up to you. I don’t…”

Michael tugs you back, seeing it as the only way you will listen to him. “Hey!” His fingers dig into your scalp. “It doesn’t matter, alright? I’m not angry. I… I thought I lost ya, and it almost killed me. I don’t care ‘bout one stupid fight. I don’t.” He chuckles softly, his eyes stained with tears again. “I care about you. I’m gonna fix this, you hear? Even if I have to kill the fuckin’ bastard who did this. God knows I want to. And I’m gonna get Anna back, too,” he says. “‘cause I’m still her father and I won’t let them take her from me. What I’m not gonna do is let you leave again without reason, so we’re gonna talk and we’re gonna find a way through this, alright? I promise you, so you have to promise me. Let me love you better. Please.”

Please. He breaks in your hand like wet sand struck by lightning. Though this time, you can’t pick up his broken pieces and glue him back together for it is his turn now to fix you. To love you better, as he said. 

You wipe your cheek on the palm of his hand, and his thumb instantly darts out to take over. It’s so rough yet so gentle against your sensitive skin. “I promise,” you whisper then, only honesty on your cracked lips.

He lets go of your scalp to pull you back in. “That’s my girl,” Michael murmurs. 

There is nothing quite as toxic as guilt, but you are each other’s antidote. You cling to him like a lifeline, and he clings to you. Where Sarah has gone, you’re not sure, but you also don’t care. She called him. She said horrible things about him, then saw your reaction, the sincere belief in his innocence and the love that is still very much there, and then she called him because there is no other way he could have found out. She called him because you didn’t need her; you needed Michael, and no drugs in the world could have changed that. 

“C’mon, lie back.” You comply almost instantly with his demand, scooting aside to make space for him. The frame of the bed creaks in protest, but he seems to neither care about the hospital’s property nor his comfort as he urges you to rest against his chest. “The police are gonna ask questions,” he tells you, tugging the blanket further around your body. You only now realize that you’re freezing. “I told them you had to rest, so they’re gonna come by in the mornin’, but I assure ya, I’m gonna be there. And then Jimmy’s gonna take us home.”

You blink up at him. “Jimmy?” you ask. It’s the only thing that strikes you as odd. You suspected the police would come by, Sarah already told you the same thing, but Michael conspiring with his brother to get you out of here is a new development. 

“Yeah. No one takes a shot at a Kinsella and gets away with it.”

“But I’m not–”

He cuts you off, “You are now.”

Your heart stops a beat in your chest before it starts racing a million miles per hour, so fast you can barely catch up. 

It’s odd, all of it. His family expressed their disdain for you at great lengths just to retaliate back when your blood is shed, but instead of dread and overwhelming suspicion, you only feel terrifyingly content. 

You’re a Kinsella now, Michael said, and what else can you do but embrace it?

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight @ebathory997

[oneshotnewbie]

Marina x teen daughter, where she gets her period when at home with Maya and Vic, who don’t know how to handle the situation and they call Carina back from work and get a full “lecture”. (Idea from Carina telling Vic that not knowing enough about her own body was nothing to be proud of)

Authors note: To adapt my idea to the request, I decided that Carina is on night shift at that time and Vic always sleeps in Maya's apartment when Carina is on night shift in order to help Maya take care of you.

ᕚ---ᕘ

It was well past midnight when you rolled back and forth in your single bed in the complete darkness, your eyes always glued to the glowing alarm clock in front of you. Your hand gently massaged your aching lower stomach and you pulled yourself into a fetal position in pain. "What the hell is that,“ you whispered quietly to yourself and you felt a wave of pain wash over you, which then disappeared shortly afterwards.

Within a minute, the disgusting cramp returned, a twisting pressure you had never felt before in your life. Stumbling out of your bed, you felt a light but warm wetness between your thighs, your pajama pants sticking to the insides of them. You rushed to your bathroom, hammered blindly on the light switch and gazed upon a startling sight. "Blood?" You whispered barely audible to yourself, pinching your pants as your mind raced in sheer fear.  

Panic and confusion washed over you. You could not believe what you saw. You suddenly remembered the conversations at school about menstruation, but it all seemed so far away and abstract. You never expected it to catch you so unprepared. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath as you felt another ache in your lower abdomen, but this time it was not subsiding. The pressure was literally building up like a balloon and you knew you had to get help before anymore blood soaked your pajamas. The stain you looked down at was rather large in the center of your bottoms and made you feel lightheaded at the unfiltered sight.

You walked into the living room where you saw Victoria laying on the couch. Leaning forward, you placed a hand on her shoulder and shook it lightly to wake her up. The firefighter blinked and wrinkled her nose before slowly opening her eyes and noticing your worried expression. "Is something wrong, love? Have you had a nightmare?" she asked sleepily but with concern in her voice, rubbing her eyes. You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you crossed your legs and responded hesitantly. "Can we get mom? I am bleeding really bad and I do not know what to do."

Vic was awake immediately. Almost suddenly, she stood up and carefully put an arm around your shoulder. "Where are you bleeding? Are you okay?" She began to question you as she went into the bedroom to wake Maya up. Without compassion, she turned on the light and pulled the blanket off the captain's sleeping body. "Maya, get up. We have a problem."

Drowsy and annoyed, the blonde turned from her lying position to the door where you were standing, but her gaze softened when she saw you standing in her room, the large, deep red stain spreading across your pants. "I think I got my period and I am afraid." Maya quickly got up and crawled towards the end of the bed. Sitting on her knees, she opened her arms wide and waited until you fell into them. She hugged you gently, running her fingers soothingly through your tousled hair.

"You do not have to be afraid. It is a normal part of growing up," the blonde looked at her best friend in panic, who shrugged unknowingly and looked around. She was completely unprepared for this moment and now had to act based on her feelings. Both of the woman just could not mess it up by making you hysterical. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

You nodded softly into her chest, hugging her tighter as another wave of pain overwhelmed you. "There is blood in my bed. And my jammies are full too." you sniffled, feeling Victoria move closer to you as well. Gently, she pressed herself against you and gently stroked your upper arms, trying to calm you down. “This feels strange, why is my body doing this to me?"

Neither of them had any answers to this question. They themselves did not know why one's own body encourages one to endure pain and bleed every month if one has not already had enough problems in the world as a woman. Maya did not know how to react. She had not expected it to happen so soon and felt just as overwhelmed as her daughter. "How about I change your sheets and you go wash and change?" They both tried to change the subject and you nodded in agreement, just wanting to get out of the wet and blood-stained clothes that clung uncomfortably to your skin.

Victoria led you back to the bathroom and quickly explained how to use a pad. She took her time, but she could not answer all of your questions about menstruation and reassure you while the blonde nervously tapped on her cell phone to summon her wife home immediately. Meanwhile, you had took a quick shower to clean yourself up and laid down in the freshly made bed with a hot water bottle for the night and fell asleep while waiting for your mother.

The two women sat restlessly at the dining table and were ready for the Italian woman's upcoming lecture about the woman´s body. „Are you not ashamed that you do not know anything about the female body when you have the privilege of being a woman?“ Carina's voice trembled through the quiet apartment, making the two women jump. She was angry that you were having your period for the first time ever and the two women who were supposed to deal with the subject had no idea how to answer your questions. "We are sorry, Carina."

"You could not even emphasize the importance of hygiene, dealing with pain and the importance of regular doctor visits?" She pushed back a chair and sat across from the two of them, tiredness written on her face too, but anger trumped her drained eyes. Victoria and her wife looked at the table, fidgeting nervously while shaking their heads almost simultaneously. "Honestly, I do not even know why we get periods." Vic opened up, smiling at her statement as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Actually, you should not be proud of it and smile, but rather sad that no one explained its importance to you,“ the Italian breathed out the last words and wrinkled her forehead as her fingers glided over it. She was disappointed in Maya and Victoria. "It is an indication from your body that your reproductive organs and you are generally healthy. From the very beginning it says that you are growing up."

"Carina, it is now four in the morning, can we not all have a conversation at the table in the morning and answer all of her questions together, as we should as parents?" The blonde, who had not said anything for a while, now joined the conversation. Carina bit her lip and nodded understandingly, but not without first giving the two of them a task.

"Fine, deal. But you two will not go to sleep until you have done your research on any menstrual questions you can find on the internet that y/n might ask. I do not want to have to lecture you in the conversations tomorrow too. "

[rosebudbl00d]

ur post about aiden was so good. u have fundamentally changed how I view him and now I'm even more obsessed with him. pls can u talk more about him? in any way?

oh god, how do i go on about him without restating everything ive already said 😭😭😭

and yet at the same thing i feel like there's a MILLION things i could touch on!!

The way the fandom perceives him, his ships, his cut dialogue, the way he's drawn, the ridiculous discourse. He's been my comfort character for so long it almost feels like i'm talking about an old friend lmao

i think to start i should probably specify that these are 100% my own opinion; yes they are forged in my interpretation of canon content, so that means that some of this post will seem really tight-knit to canon, while other portions will seen outrageously out-of-character. And that is ok! I try to base my head-canons and perception of characters off of their personalities and such, but I can't help but be a little silly sometimes.

Probably first on my docket is his weird obsession with Lukas and Jesse...Yes i call it obsession, though I wouldn't call it far to suspect that Aiden is dependent on Lukas, he's so grotesquely attached. Even from the first time we meet him, Aiden's immediately searching for Lukas' validation.

"Lukas! Get a load of these losers!"

Why? Maya and Gill have already stirred enough insults that surely he's heard by now. Is it just the potential of being addressed? Of being heard? It's only to be brushed off.

Lukas calls the shots. That is told to us very early on. Whether that's because he's actually respected or Maya and Gill are forced to fall into place because Aiden will listen to him- who truly knows (probably the first one).

Later on he antagonizes Jesse again, and once again, only really deterred by Lukas. He's trying to lighten the mood, ease the tension. All the while Aiden seethes behind him. The hatred is so clear. Once again like I said before he's in this constant fight for attention against Jesse. First it's just with Lukas, then its with the world.

You could even say him breaking the lava was for attention. He smashed a STONE BLOCK. WITH HIS BARE HAND. This is past school bully levels of torment now, he's so desperate to make sure Jesse stays below him that he's willing to break his hand in order to destroy Jesse's build. And you know.

he doesn't even start to realize how bad of an idea it was until lukas comes up from behind him.

Of course, depending on whether or not you make Olivia and Axel stay to save the build, Jesse's gang either wins or loses. Of course the interaction you get from Lukas afterward is different, but god.

"It's not cool you had to deal with Aiden being an idiot."

You just know he was lingering behind a stall, overhearing a conversation he wasn't meant to. Later on we meet him again and somehow he seems even more pissy.

"How's your stupid pig" it's not out of genuinely. Lukas probably made him ask. He goes on and on, he won, why is he so mad?

Of course this eventually bounces off into the birth of the Wither Storm.

Aiden was in the conference room when it happened. When was the last time he saw Lukas? All he knows now is that there's some devilish creature tearing the earth apart and EATING people. Maybe for once he's worried about someone other than himself, but of course he's terrified. Hell he's the first one out of there.

He manages to group up with Lukas again, only to lose him. We know that post EP4 he managed to evade the Wither Storm because he can show up to help distract it in the ending battle, so it further begs the thought.

He and Maya and Gill were out there alone. Without their leader- helpless. They probably presumed him dead, or worse. And in the wake of the rubble it's almost like Aiden has a change of heart—and then a miracle. Lukas is okay. Lukas is okay and he needs their help. He needs Aiden's help. Oh sweet recognization.

He does their bidding for what? To have his spotlight be stolen by Jesse. And just when he thought he got Lukas back, once again. He's been taken from Aiden. First by the Wither Storm, now by Jesse.

Because Lukas is a hero now. And Aiden is just the guy who won the building competition.

The gap between EP4 and EP5 is unexplained but we can guess from the reactions of the townspeople to the state of Beacon Town that it's been at least a month or two- maybe more.

But in that time Aiden's been lingering, meditating on his thoughts. He tries in some way to confront Lukas probably, to try and regain what they'd lost. But no, no there's no going back. So the Ocelots are no more, and the Blazerods rise from the ashes. Aiden is their leader now, and it's getting to his head. Lukas called the shots, Lukas was his shining star in a way- but now with Aiden as their lead, he has no one to look up to—a big fat fucking lie.

Aiden will ALWAYS need Lukas' validation. Even in his attempts to berate him there's almost a weird sense of falsivity to the statements. Insistence that "they ditched him", the Ocelots were "Lukas' gang" anyways. They're not connected to him anymore! (Gill even comments about the Ocelots being a cooler name. almost like a sign that breaking off from Lukas was Aiden's idea in the first place. A strike back for leaving him.)

"The minute the Order decided you were cool he wouldn't stop sniffing around you like a tame dog."

He is SO jealous. It's a statement that's embedded in cruelty but at it's core, he speaking to a mirror. Was he not following around at Lukas' side for the whole of EP1? Searching for him? Hoping? If anything Aiden is the tame dog here, Lukas is the one holding the leash.

I won't recite everything I said in the last post (though I'm sure I've practically already done that), but once again he goes from heeling to Lukas to trying to murder the guy. Talk about a messy break-up.

Part of me wishes that his last fight was with Lukas rather than with Jesse (of course this would never happen obviously). We only get a snippet from he and Lukas' mini fist-fight in EP5, which ends horribly no matter what you decide to do. But there's such a strong hatred in the lines.

"I've got him Jesse!"

"Oh you've got me?"

It's angry. When did it turn from "The Ocelots," from "Lukas and Aiden," to : "I've got him." Betrayal. This is almost a final hit. A final straw that breaks the camels back about every thought Aiden has been thinking since Lukas left.

Lukas isn't his friend anymore.

Lukas is on Jesse's side now.

And Aiden will not have that. Not one bit.

How did he go from struggling to fight, to kicking Lukas off the edge? A sly advantage once The Founder falls? A clean cut punch that dazes Lukas enough to knock him off his feet? It doesn't matter anymore. Because as far as Aiden knows now—he's made his choice. His problems are gone. Lukas is gone.

I wonder a lot about what happened during the "before" of Sky City's end. Did they just go ham? Or did Aiden sit and think about what he'd done for a few minutes. What about Petra and Ivor? What goodness did he have in his heart to let them go? Maybe just the shock of coming to terms with the fact that he just killed his best friend. No. No Lukas isn't his best friend anymore. He just killed his enemy. The biggest pain in his side.

Anyways, most of this is probably just me recounting what I've already said. When it comes to his story it's pretty clean-cut and simple, it's just the interpretation. For me, it's a descent to madness. And honestly I relate LMAO

I think a real big eye-opener for me was codf1shbaby's Aiden's Memoir, which is. So. Fucking. Good. It's heavy as hell, but god damn is it well written. Really got me to thinking about his psychology on a deeper level, which is GOOD!! Aiden is one of those characters who gets read at face value (which is fine, I expect it. He has like a total of 40 lines in the whole of MCSM), which I think forces a narrative that there's nothing there worth looking for.

I implore you to read Aiden's Memoir if you like deep psychological stories, and if you like the writing PLEASE check out my friend Cosmo's stuff (shameless plug), he's extremely talented.

I also implore you to do your own searching! There are so many characters who are worth diving into!

It's 12:30 in the morning for me right about now, so I'm sure I'm going to wake up and face-palm about all the bullshit i wrote and everything i forgot !! But I will continue to go into Aiden more. Probably more into fandom interpretation and such next!

[mercury2venus]

“ and should our worst tendencies turn us into enemies.”

( honestly I feel like I always see Geto betray Gojo so here’s the opposite teehee.)

This is an AU btw. Here they were able to save Riko, they never failed the mission and Geto never lost his mind. they’re both teachers in this. ) Excuse any mistakes !!

(I was watching the best man recently lol and got inspired a little iykyk)

Blue is Geto speaking

Green is Gojo speaking

His best friend hid it well. He had to admit.

But ever so recently, Suguru has been paying closer attention.

There was something in Satoru’s eyes when he looked at Maya.

It was more than a glint, more than admiration no..this was different.

Suguru knew that look.

He gave it to her every waking moment of his day. As if she was the sun and he was irrevocably stuck in her orbit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The best friends sat in an empty classroom.

The atmosphere couldn’t be more tense.

“ How long Satoru ?” Suguru awaited his answer. Part of him wishing he was wrong and the other part trying not to crash out. Beforehand, Suguru asked Maya if she noticed Satoru’s longing gazes.

Of course she did. Yet, she ignored him. Paid him dust, kept it cordial and chalked it up to a man who probably didn’t have the proper love and care at home.

And with that Suguru felt like he needed to confront his best friend. Even if he wanted to cry.

“ You’re sitting there in silence and I’m asking you Satoru..how long have you been in love with MY girlfriend.” He said.

“ Since you met her. 5 years ago.” Satoru said softly.

Suguru froze.

“ You’ve been in love with Maya…for 5 years? And you said nothing? When were you going to tell me Satoru ? When a curse took my life ? When you’d comfort her at my funeral ? When Shoko cuts me open ?” He said in a panic.

Satoru was silent again.

“ Answer Me !”

Suguru clenched his fists. “ You’re the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo. The pride of the Gojo clan, with 2 legendary techniques. It places you above everyone else naturally. I’m 2nd to you, you know that right ? It’s hard to not live in your shadow and as your best friend I don’t complain, I want you to shine and grow. Be who the world needs you to be. But sometimes you’re nothing more than a spoiled rich kid who has never been told no, that grew into an overgrown man child. “

Suguru took a breather, then continued.

“ We’re close, I don’t think I’ve been closer to anyone else in my life. You’re my brother Satoru. I get it we share things but what was the end game here? Think we’d share Maya ? “

Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. Suddenly picturing his girlfriend. “ She’s uncomfortable now.” He said softly. “ She feels strange. Do you know she’s already uncomfortable being here as is ? She’s in a foreign country, is not a sorcerer, looks nothing like anyone here ! You’ve heard me vent about her family not accepting us or her longing to move back to America. What the hell were you thinking ?”

Satoru took off his glasses. Cerulean eyes lined with tears. “ I have no desire to go after her. I don’t know what my endgame is. But since we’re being honest I don’t know how to move on…not sure if I can. It sounds inconsiderate even insane but she looks at me like I’m just Satoru. Like I’m just me. I love her the same way you —

Suguru furrowed his brows, he couldn’t believe his ears right now.

“ Watch it.”

Satoru sighed deeply. He placed his shades back on.

“ What I’m saying is I’m sorry, for all of this.”

Suguru shook his head and walked towards the door “ Stay away from us, especially HER for now. I won’t ask again. “ he said.

Satoru lowered his head in shame, he agreed. “ Okay Sug I hear you. I will, I understand man. “

And with that the 2 strongest left their friendship right there.

Suguru was long gone when Satoru spoke aloud. Wiping his tears he whispered to no one in particular “ God this is the worst day of my life.”

[quigonswife8]

Drowning: Namor x reader

Namor saves your life

Warnings: swearing, near death experience, talk of mild concussion.

Gif creds: @mndvx | Couldn’t really find a gif that worked best but since this gif is near the end of the film, when this is set, I thought I’d use it :)

Translations [used from a yucatec maya to english translator I’ve been using]

Paach teechi': Behind you.

In yakunaj: My love.

In yaakunech: I love you.

————

In the distance Shuri and Namor come to an agreement. She'll promise to protect his oceans, will make sure no one will bring harm to him and his people. The wakandan's will keep the location of Talokan secret. They will work together from now on.

Where you are, however, none you are aware of this happening, so the battle wages on. More people die, more lives lost. It's hard to decide who's winning because it's even on both sides- well, almost even.

"(y/n)!" One of the talokanil’s toss a weapon your way, and you catch it with a nod.

"Thank you."

Just in time you turn and cut down one of the enemies before moving onto take down more. To be honest you wish an agreement was made between the black panther and your love because you can't bare losing him.

You want nothing more than to go and help him but you’ve been unable to leave, stuck fighting.

“Paach teechi'!”

What?

It's too late: when you turn you're struck over the head and sent overboard. Their yelling soon fades away as they falls back into the battle, and you're fully submerged into the water. The sudden impact from the hit and from hitting the water leaves you dazed and confused unable to process what's happening.

You don't swim back up, you just watch as you begin to sink. As you sink faster that's when you start finding it hard. Hard to breathe.

You can’t breathe. The water is so heavy it’s suffocating you, then you squeeze your eyes shut to stop the pain of the water in your eyes.

You're drowning. The water greets you like a long-lost friend pulling you further and further until it will have wrapped it's invisible arms around you.

The fight above becomes more distant as you sink futher. It's hard to fight against water that has already claimed you, hard to swim to the surface when you're so weak and still unable to grapple with everyone. It's so cold and you grow sleepy, finding that urge to slowly drift away with the water's giving you it's death kiss.

Is this it?

Of your [age] years on this earth you have experienced things beyond comprehension. Been through a lot that has shaped and changed you. Met and fell in love with the winged serpeant god.

Now you're going to die and hell it's extremely scary and you want to be saved, but if this is it then you're happy to have lived this life.

K’uk’ulkan pops into your mind: the memories you shared with him, and that eases your worries.The water pulls you away, white dotting your vision. The pull is stronger and you feel yourself slipping away.

Before you do though you can swear you see someone floating in your direction and then everything is blurred.

----

"Come on my love."

He lays you down on the sand, quickly moving his hands to begin CPR. Up and down up and down and he repeats your name in hopes it will do something.

"Come on."

You're still not responding. So he lowers his mouth to give you mouth to mouth. Your freezing body against his, your eyes shut- you need to wake soon.

He breathes in, and out, giving you air. In, and out, desperation clcinging to him like the water that already clings to him. His hands shake but he doesn't stop giving you CPR- he can't.

Please

He prays in his mind

I cannot lose them too

Namor repeats breathing in and out, his heart hammering in his chest. Still nothing. That’s when he pleads again.

Please, I am begging you. … … …

You jolt up, eyes wide: turning to your side you start coughing up water which snaps him back to reality. Throat, scratchy, in so much pain, and that pain in your head makes matters worse. At least you don't feel as dazed as you were when you fell under.

Hands shaky digging in the sand in front of you, while you throw up more water. It's...still hard to grapple with what's happening. The last thing you remember is falling into that water after being struck over the head.

Am I in heaven? or maybe, it's hell. If it was heaven you wouldn't be feeling like shit but on the other hand why would hell still look like the real world?

"Ugh.."

Tears fall from your eyes soaking your cheeks. You had died…right? There's a vague image of someone swimming towards you but that was the last thing you remember. Ugh my head hurts

Before you can think anymore on that, that's when you hear it. A voice…his voice. It's so quiet, unsure, but you'd know it anywhere despite feeling how you are. A shaky sigh and then your eyes flick to him…and your mouth falls open in surprise.

K'uk'ulkan “Am I…in heaven?"

If he's there you have to be in heaven. "No.."

He crawls over to you and then he stops in front of you.

"You're…" Namor's eyes soften and he searches yours. "…you're alive, in yakunaj."

Alive? So…you didn't die?

"Are you sure…?"

He slowly takes your hand in his, and presses it to where your heart is.

"Do you feel that? Your heart is beating, you are alive."

Then he takes it and presses it to where his heart is, and smiles softly.

"…and so am I. I'm here with you, you're alive."

I'm actually alive

That figure was K'uk'ulkan. The figure who had swam towards you was your love, and it all makes sense. He had saved your life, you owe everything to him.

"Thank you…"

Through tear-filled eyes you take his other hand in yours, rather than press your head to his. This means more than a kiss: it's more intimate. He's a bit caught off guard by your action but finds himself squeezing your hands.

"…for saving my life."

"You're welcome in yakunaj…"

To hear him say this after such a traumatic event? Means more than anything to you. You're surprised you're taking this so well though, that you haven't cried or even broken down. By this point people would if they were faced with death and had survived.

It's better to have him there comforting you because you really need it. It's like he's your anchor and he's keeping you grounded otherwhise you're not sure what you wsould do.

"I'm happy that you are alive…"

Though while he isn't fully able to communicate just how happy he is at the moment, you know. You can tell and that only makes you happy to know that he is, 'cause if he lost you he's not sure what he would do.

You're his heart- his purpose- his love- who he lives for. The person who understands him better than anyone and who is there to let him know how much you love him.