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fanoftheimagines · 5 days

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My Breath through the Deep Water

Pairing: (pre-relationship) Edwin Payne/Charles Rowlan/Ghost!Reader

Reader Gender: AFAB Trans Masc / Non-Binary

CW: pre-canon, reader is dead, neglectful/abusive parents, chronic illness & anemia, implied periods, yearning (everyone is yearning, everyone is oblivious), discussion of spousal murder & abuse, supernatural activity, Death & Dream cameo, you can pry Y/N from my cold dead hands

Word Count: 3,098

Summary: Dying in your sleep was supposed to guarantee your spot in the Dreaming. But when you end up stuck as a ghost on the mortal plane, you go to the only ghosts who can help: the Dead Boy Detectives.

A/N: I have fallen for the dead sad bois. This show is perfect and I am attached to them now. Title from Deep Water by American Authors. The reader’s backstory is based off my chronically ill childhood. Reader is meant to be around the boys’ age. I think this probably the longest one-shot I’ve ever written, so cheers to that!

Shout out to lilacclorceta for beta reading this for me!

Masterlist | AO3 Link

--- 1992 ---

The wooden door with a windowpane stood right in front of you. You took in a deep breath – one you arguably didn’t need anymore – and walked through. There were two ghostly teenage boys inside, one sitting at the desk in the middle of the room and one fiddling with the clearly-marked cases board. A nervous ball wadded in your stomach. Asking for help was never your forte, but you were at your wits end.

“Um…” You mumbled, “Excuse me?” The two boys looked up. The one in a suit and bowtie raised an eyebrow while the one in red gave you a welcoming smile. “Are you the Dead Boy Detectives?”

“That we are!” The one in red said, before turning to look at the other. He nodded. “Come in. I’m Charles, this is Edwin. How can we help you?”

You stepped further in carefully. “I… um… I need your help figuring out why I’m here…”

Edwin – the one in the suit and bowtie – nodded and gestured to the spot in front of the desk. “Please, we’ll need to know everything.”

Charles walked around and sat on the edge of the desk, angled toward Edwin. Again, you took a breath you didn’t need. “Death never came for me and I… I have no idea why…” Charles’ face flooded with sympathy. Edwin’s remained blank. “Thing is,” you hesitated, looking over their heads as you spoke, “I know where I was supposed to go, technically speaking. But I just… didn’t.”

Edwin quirked a brow in intrigue. “And you do not have any unfinished business? You’re positive?”

“No, that’s the thing. If I do, I don’t know what it is.” You responded, looking to him.

“So, what happened?” Charles probed. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is, how’d you die?”

You sighed and looked at your hands. Death never came for you. Just another sad occurrence in your already depressing life. A sick, painful, lonely life. You’d died as you’d lived: alone. Neglectful parents combined with a severe bleeding disorder left you sickly and weak until the very end. No one rushed to help you, always taking their time to try anything. Months before any medication to help with your heavy bleeding, and months more until a single blood transfusion, losing more and more lifeblood every day. As you grew weaker, you spent more time sleeping. It’s there you discovered an escape: the Dreaming. You spent your short years stuck at home, visiting the Dreaming to help with the ache. Your friends – if you could call them that, given they were dreams – said you’d stay in the Dreaming were you to die there. It was a hopeful outlook, given your rotten luck in life.

And then you died in your sleep. You were in the Dreaming at the time. You blinked, felt a strange tug at your core, then opened your eyes to your bedroom, your pale corpse lifeless under the covers.

A lone tear rolled down your cheek as you told them your story. You quickly wiped it away with your thumb. “Sorry, still fresh.”

“Hey, don’t worry. Only natural, isn’t it? Dying alone sounds scary, I’m sorry you went through that.” Charles said.

Edwin’s face was twisted in fascination and curiosity. “Charles, a word?” He interrupted, facing Charles.

He dragged him into the closet before he could respond. Their voices were muffled through the door. You fiddled with your fingers, anxiety swelling in your throat. “I can pay!” You suddenly burst, voice just loud enough you hoped they could hear you.

Charles stepped out first and sat back on the desk. Edwin stood straight – his hands clasped all proper – next to him. “We’ll take your case.”

“Oh, thank you.” A relieved breath left you.

“Now, you said you could pay?” He continued inquisitively.

You nodded. “Right, well I inherited a collection of rare books on the supernatural from my grandmother. The books are still there. I don’t think my parents are ready to move on yet, honestly. They’re yours, if you help me.”

“Oh, brills! Edwin’s always looking to add more to his collection, right Edwin?” Charles smiled – almost smitten, if you didn’t know any better – at Edwin.

Edwin fought back a smile. “Yes, Charles, thank you.” He nodded his head toward you. “Now, let us get started.”

--- 1999 ---

“I come bearing gifts, my friends!” You smiled widely as you walked through the office mirror. A thick manila file was in your hand.

“You are aces, you are!” Charles laughed, taking the file from your hand. “Oh, look at this, old Mr. Brewer’s got some nasty skeletons, eh?” Edwin peered over his shoulder.

“Interesting. So, he caused the death of a young woman 48 years ago, and yet she didn’t seek revenge until now?” Edwin remarked before looking up at you. “Well done.”

Charles handed the file to him and swung an arm around your shoulder. “That’s a compliment in Edwin’s book, right there.” He squeezed you against him. The comforting pressure had you leaning in further.

“Thank you. I’m glad I could help.” You smiled, glancing at the pretty boy with his arm around you. “Gotta give you a reason to keep me around, right?” It was a half-joke – something frankly pitiful if you were honest with yourself.

“Nah, none of that,” he chuckled, squeezing you again, “we like you, don’t we? Besides, your case isn’t solved. Not a good look, if you ask me.”

“Yes, you’ve become a valuable member of the Dead Boy Detective Agency. We’d both be completely lost without you.” Edwin snarked, half sarcastically. “Now, did you happen to learn anything else from this source of yours?”

You smirked. “Apparently, Brewer’s nephew bought a typewriter from a seller of supernatural artifacts last year.”

“And, let me guess, she was the original owner? Oh, that’s brills.” Charles leaned over Edwin, practically resting his chin on his shoulder. His chocolate brown eyes scanned the page. “Haunted objects are practically our bread and butter.”

Your gaze rested on him for a moment before you tore it away. You dug out a scrap of paper out of your inner jacket pocket. “Yeah. My source, as you so called her, said this would help with sorting it out.” You handed it to Edwin.

He nodded and scanned it. “Wonderful, I’ll get to work on this. You two do some leg work, find out what you can about this scorned woman.”

--- SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET ---

Charles and you walked into the house. It had been abandoned after Thomas Brewer’s death. His only living family was his nephew, who didn’t want to live in the city. The only ones hanging around seemed to be Brewer himself and this unknown woman. It was dark. The windows were drawn to keep out street light. The furniture was covered with white tarps. Blood stains surrounded the single armchair in the living room. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary.

The two of you split up. You took to the main floor, Charles upstairs. You skirted around the red-stained floor. The bookcase left of the telly was practically overflowing with books. The old man had clearly collected. And there, sitting right in the middle of the fourth shelf, was the typewriter. It looked normal, just a regular typewriter. You really wouldn’t know it was haunted by an apparently malicious ghost. You didn’t touch it – you wouldn’t hear the end of it if you did. Instead, you went to the office off the living room.

The large wooden desk was covered in a thick layer of dust. The right drawer was locked. You opened all the others. Nothing of note on the woman, unfortunately. Behind the desk, a painting of a lakefront. You pulled it off the wall to reveal a wall safe. Typical.

“Found something!” You called, leaving the room to find Charles.

He was in the main bedroom. His back was to the door as he read a leather-bound book. He tilted his head to you as you walked in. “He definitely killed her.”

“Diary?” You asked, sitting next to him.

He hummed and shifted the book for you to read too. “Her name was Mary. She was his wife.” He paused and closed his eyes. “He pushed her down the stairs when she tried to leave him.”

“Oh,” you muttered, forcing your eyes away from the book. “Then, I suppose he deserved it.”

“Yeah…” His voice dropped slightly and you could sense his anger rising. Your hand slid easy into his and gave it a comforting squeeze. His shoulder slumped against yours. His past was coming back to him – you could tell in the way his shoulders drew in and his mask slipped slightly. A solacing silence settled over the two of you. The pressure and proximity were a comfort for both of you.

“We should go.” He eventually broke the silence.

“There’s a safe and a locked drawer we should deal with first.” You replied as you stood up. It was as if the moment hadn’t happened. And well, you were both professionals, after all.

“The client lied to us. He did know her.” Charles told Edwin. You’d returned to the office to find Edwin in a state of undress you rarely saw him – that is, without his suit jacket – knee deep in research. He was surrounded by piles of books mostly regarding object hauntings. A small smile formed at the sight. He was perfect in his own way, something that made butterflies flutter in your stomach in the same way Charles did sometimes.

You zoned out of the conversation. The two boys – your boys – were easy on the eyes. They were both so damn pretty. The kind of pretty that stalled your breath and made your heart skip a beat. And on top of that, they were the perfect duo. A verifiable old married couple if you’d ever seen one. And they made you feel more alive than you ever did before. Somehow, Death had granted you a gift. The realization was almost a shock to the system. They were your best friends, your family. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey!” Charles’ hand suddenly waved in front of your face. “You still in there, mate?”

It jerked you out of your stupor. “Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.” You looked up to him. His brown eyes were full of concern. “What’d I miss?”

Edwin raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. “Your friend was right. I have the spell I need to unbind Mary Brewer from the typewriter. Once she’s free, her and Thomas should be able to move on. Get ready. We leave in an hour.”

--- A WOMAN SCORNED ---

Why did nothing ever go to plan? A spectral claw dug further into your shoulder. No pain followed, but a heavy feeling of pressure followed. Mary’s elongated, horrific form screamed eerily into your face. You turned reflexively. Edwin’s voice came somewhere behind you. His Latin was just barely audible. Charles’ cricket bat thwacked the enraged spirit, but she only tightened her grip on you.

“Please hurry up!” You yelled; voice tinged with panic. “Charles!”

“I’ve got you!” He said. You could just barely hear him riffling through his bag. Mary drooled over you as she bared down on you. Then, she screamed loudly. Charles had swung on her with his knife. She reared back. Her claws released you. You dropped and scrambled. “Yeah, that’s right. Leave them alone.”

“Any time now, Edwin!”

With a final word, Mary’s ghostly form glowed blue then settled. There on the floor sat a sobbing woman dressed in sixties traveling ware. The three of you panted in relief. Edwin helped you to your feet and turned to Charles.

“You okay?”

Charles nodded, picked up his backpack, and tucked his iron knife away. “Aces, but we should get out of here. Now that she’s free, Death’ll come.”

--- CASE CLOSED ---

It hadn’t ended the way you expected, sure, but the case was still closed. The client had turned out to be a no-good murderer but you’d freed his late wife. Plus, you got paid before the case. Edwin spent the rest of the night reshelving his books. Charles smiled softly at him occasionally and busied himself with filing away the case.

You leaned against the wall, just watching them. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder what your afterlife would be like if you’d stayed in the Dreaming. But times like this made you want to hide away from Death forever.

That wonderful fluttering feeling returned. An easy smile fell on your lips. And after a moment of relishing in the saccharine feeling, you gently reached to take the stack of books from Edwin’s arms. “Let me help?”

He hummed pleasantly and shifted them into your arms. “Thank you.”

--- 2022 ---

Twenty-something years later, your case was on indefinite hiatus. The years passed pleasantly. The Dead Boy Detective Agency was a shining beacon in your postmortem life. Together, you closed probably hundreds of cases.

This one was simple, but with lots of detective work. A client came in, an older woman who just wanted to know who stole her mother’s engagement ring before she’d died. Her and her family lived on the other side of town – an hour away by the tube. Of course, that meant Edwin insisted on you practicing mirror travel on your way back. To get cases done faster, he claimed. Charles smirked at him knowingly when he’d said that and you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath too.

Which led you here, in the client’s bedroom, staring at the unreflective mirror. Edwin stood uncharacteristically close behind you. His proximity made your metaphorical heart race. He gently placed your hand on the mirror. It rippled under your touch.

“Focus on the office.” He whispered close to your ear. “You need to remain focused on where you want to go. Think of the mirror as a doorway.” You took a deep breath and did as he said. Desperately not focusing on his nearness and trust, on this need to just… touch him. You did your best to focus on the office. “Now, step through.”

You didn’t end up in the office. It was a back alley with a mirror leaning against a garbage bin. Whimpering came from a bit further in. Followed by a blue light. Dread grasped your throat. No…

“Well?” Edwin asked, poking his head out.

You quickly turned. Not him. “Death is here. Go!” You whispered, pushing him back through.

A voice stopped you from following. You couldn’t lead her back to them. Not them. Anyone but them. “Hello, Y/N.”

You turned around slowly this time. “Hello, Death. Are you finally here to take me?

She was beautiful and her face was kind. Her brown eyes sympathetic. “Do you want me to?”

You shook your head. No, that was the last thing you wanted. A man – his hair dark and wild, his eyes silver and galactic – dressed in all black walked up behind her. He felt familiar, in a similar way Death did. “Dream,” you whispered, almost reverently. He was here, somehow. Missing all those years you’d visited the Dreaming, watching as it decayed. “You’re here…”

“You know me?” His voice was smooth, reverberating deep in your chest even despite your lack of physical feeling.

“I spent years in your realm. It welcomed me when I had nowhere else.” You smiled wistfully.

Death glanced at Dream. “They can go back, if you’ll take them. They died there a long time ago.” She turned back to you. “Do you want that?”

This was it. The moment you’d wanted all those years ago. It was here. All you had to do was nod and take her hand and you could go back to the Dreaming with your friends and see its beauty like you were always meant to. But then you thought of Charles’ smile. His golden earring and Rude Boys jacket and red shirt. Edwin’s quiet concern and fancy suit. Your friends, the people you’d risked your existence for over and over again.

“No.”

Dream’s stare pierced your very being. “No? You dare deny your destiny? My realm?”

“I would have said yes, if you’d come 30 years ago. But then I made a home here, with a family of my own. And I’m happier than I ever was when I was alive or in the Dreaming.” You glanced at Death. Fear knotted in your gut. What if she took you anyway?

But she just nodded and smiled kindly. “Good, I’m glad you found your place. And when you’re ready, I will come.”

She turned to him. A moment later, he nodded. “You are always welcome in the Dreaming.”

A sigh left you involuntarily. “Thank you.”

The second you walked back through the mirror you were engulfed in their arms. Edwin – who didn’t like touch most days – held you tight in relief. Charles tugged you both close. If tears came, no one mentioned them. You sagged into their arms.

Then, Edwin slapped your arm. “Are you completely stupid?” He yelled, pulling away. His voice was high with residual anxiety.

“Easy, Edwin. They’re still here.” Charles smiled, squeezing you again before releasing you. “What happened, then? How’d you get away?”

A soft smile – saccharine and easy – graced your lips. “Death let me go.”

“What?” Edwin asked. Confusion all over his face. “That’s not possible.”

You grinned. Happiness swelled. “She said I found my place and when I was ready, she’d come for me.”

“Oh, that’s brills!” Charles laughed, picking you up in a crushing hug.

Edwin smiled – properly smiled, for possibly the first time since you’d met him. “Let’s go home then. This case can wait, what with Death around.”

Life hadn’t been kind to you. Neither had death. Then you’d met two incredible detectives. All your pain and suffering didn’t matter anymore, not really, when you had them to lean on. It still ached like a bruise on occasion. Yet you wouldn’t trade it for anything if it meant you ended up here. You’d gotten what you’d always wanted in the most unlikely of ways. You were tied to them forever now. Three souls bound together through pain and friendship. They were a safe place to rest your head when it all was too much. Just as you were for them. When Edwin had flashbacks of Hell or Charles got quiet and repressive. You don’t know what your future holds, but you knew that no matter what, you’d found where you belonged.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months

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Kinktober day 1 | Xavier Thorpe x Vampire!Reader

Kinktober day 1: blood kink

Word count: 0.7k

Warnings: 18+, p+v, blood sucking,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The first time your eyes fell on him across the quad, you wanted him to be your dinner. He stood with his back to you, engrossed in painting a raven on the wall. Each stroke of his brush was smooth and supple, and though his artistry mesmerized you, you couldn't help but imagine how delectable and sweet he must be — his blood, that is.

A soft breeze swept through, filling your sharp senses with his scent and making you want him more.

You didn't take much time luring him into your bed. One single glance into each other's eyes, and the dominos cascaded in a line.

Xavier groaned as your fangs pierced into his neck, his face scrunching in momentary displeasure from the intense pain. His hands clutched your school skirt with a vice-like grip, eagerly waiting for the pain to subside and transform into pleasure.

You kept one hand bracing the side of his neck you weren’t drinking from, keeping him in place on your bed as you lapped at his neck, savoring every crimson drop as it graced your tongue. He tasted just as divine as you had imagined: sweet and addicting.

Feeding on students was strictly forbidden at Nevermore Academy, forcing Xavier to conceal the telltale marks of your fangs outside his bedroom. Fortunately, the school uniform's high collars concealed most of the evidence.

A moan caught in Xavier’s throat and his hand released your skirt, finding purchase of the curve of your ass as he started to feel the pleasure from the bite. Endorphins filled his whole body and went straight to his dick, quickly stiffening in his pants.

He pulled you closer until your chest was flush against his, making you feel it.

You pulled back from his neck with quizzical eyebrows. ‘’Does this turn you on?’’ you asked, looking down at him with your mouth dripping blood from the corners.

You knew it was possible, but you had never bit someone who got hard from your bite.

Xavier brought a finger to your mouth, catching the red liquid and holding it before your lips, waiting for your tongue to suck it clean. You hummed around his finger, a sound that only intensified his desire. ‘’You have no idea,’’ he confessed, his hips rising eagerly.

You popped his — clean — finger out of your mouth, your eyes a deep red, and met Xavier’s movement, eliciting a soft moan from him.

Although you were cautious to not draw more blood than necessary, Xavier had taken a habit of taking B12 vitamins so his body wouldn’t go into deficiency anemia from your blood-taking habits. You never had a ‘feeding partner’ before, you didn’t want to unintentionally hurt Xavier.

What you didn’t see coming was Xavier becoming addicted to you feeding on him.

You thought he was just being caring and making sure you were well-fed. However, it soon became evident that he yearned for your fangs with a growing hunger, especially during sex. It was a magical trick to make him cum fast. He would moan so loud when your fangs sank into his neck.

You kissed and nibbled along the side of his neck. ‘’Is this what you want?’’ you asked, slowly bouncing on Xavier’s lap, your whole body pressed to his. ‘’You want my bite?’’

At your words, you felt his cock twitch inside you.

He nodded, silently pleaded, then tilted his head to the side in offering.

You teased further, your tongue caressing over a bite mark. ‘’You want my fangs to sink into your soft skin and suck your blood until you cum inside me?’’

Xavier whined, consumed by need and desperation. ‘’Y-yes. I need it. Please.’’

A smirk drew on your lips, then snapped your fangs out and dug into his skin, giving him what he wanted.

His hips stuttered and bucked into your core when the initial pain hit him. ‘’Aah.’’

You gasped against his skin, blood spilling and dripping from his neck and down your chests. No matter how many times you had done it, blood-drinking was always messy. You dipped your head down to lick the trail of blood, salvaging the mess you had made while moving your hips, and Xavier threw his head back, exposing the fresh bite.

He was so beautiful.

You attached your mouth back to his neck and Xavier cried out in pleasure as your fangs entered his neck. One of his hands went to your hair, as if he was afraid you would stop, and the other had an iron grip on your asscheek, his stress bitten nails digging into your permanently cold skin.

His body was on fire, bucking his hips messily and urgently as he was getting closer and closer to his climax. ‘’I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna—’’ Xavier cut himself off with a loud moan, his release washing over him in waves of ecstasy as he released ropes of cum deep inside you.

—

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#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday imagine #wednesday netflix #kinktober

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biscuitbox23 · 4 months

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Dead weight.

summary: you run into the woods to get away from the group, you were reaching the end of your life as you suffer from aplastic anemia, only to get stopped by Rick.

A/n: I’m not a medical expert, i have no familiarity with the field of medicine I am just an idiot who is a sucker for terribly made sad stories. This may be a very long opening to the actual climax so im sorry for that :( please do DM me for advice on how i can make my fanfictions better!

Warnings: inaccurate depictions of the illness, non-established relationship (rick and reader), mentions of death, angst, cursing. (Not much due to me being a minor.) somewhat bad grammar since English isn’t my second language.

words: 1.3K

It has been a while, well, a while since you had a good stock of medicine. You had been in an abandoned cabin a few months after the outbreak. During it, you got stuck in a pharmacy in Atlanta. The law was gone now, so you hoarded a ton of antibiotics, capsules, injections, and anything you could get your grubby hands on.

When Rick and Daryl saved you from a trio of men who were trying to take advantage of you, you joined them and did not stay inside forever, especially when blood stained the floors of your shelter. It was a mistake.

You wanted to stay with yourself, isolated from the horrors and sacrifices that the world has offered now. It was harder to find medication now that most stores were stripped clean. It was easier for you to catch minor fevers, and you tended to have more rest than the others in the group. The only reason you were there is because you knew how to survive.

In the woods, in the apocalypse, no problem. Whatever your dad knew your dad would teach you, he was an outdoor person and loved to forage different shrooms and plants. God knows what happened to him.

You grew closer to the group, helping them find food and clean water, scavenging what you can find in abandoned retail stores (even if it does not have much importance.)

Now you find yourself walking out of Alexandria by attempting to climb the steel borders to the outside of the wall, your head spinning as drowsiness has consumed you to your very core, yet you still have the urge to continue. Or else you are just dead weight. You had a few foot slips —you swear, Enid makes it look easy— but managed to get out. You can sense your muscles aching as if you did not even have the strength to pull yourself up despite climbing trees more than a million times when you were a teen. You needed to disappear

from the people, the group. Rick.

Rick was a leader, for sure. He had all the correct morals and cunningness and looked up to him for it. You were no longer the person of any use to him and his group. You could not even defend yourself without stumbling down to the ground.

You were around when T-dog and Lori passed away. You

remembered falling for Rick when you first saw him, only to discover he had a pregnant wife and a kid. It started like a rocky road. You were so used to the isolation that it took a lot of convincing to get you to come with them to the prison.

You took a liking to his daughter Judith. You loved babies. It was a surprise. You thought that you would never find a baby in this world again. Carl was the closest to you. You tell him stories about your life and would do the same, reminiscing about the world that used to be. He praised his father a lot and got a good idea of what Rick was like as a father. Hershel would check up on your health while Rick would stand beside the old sport as Hershel examines you.

Making your way into the woods, you stopped by a tree to take a breather. Your hands were on your knees as you stared down to the ground, crinkles of the leaves crushing on the bottom of your shoes. The night was cold and airy. The chill on the tip of your nose was evident as you took one more glance at the haven that shielded the real outside world from its inhabitants. The sour stench of rotting meat was not detectable and gave some fresh air — It is not like you cannot get fresh air in Alexandria. You want to be alone most of the time.

“thought I'd find you here." A voice called out, the voice echoing in your ears sounding familiar as the crunching of leaves has gotten closer and closer.

“fuck” you curse under your breath, “how did you find me?”

“Carl saw you tryin’ to climb the walls.”

“huh,” you playfully scoffed but was met with a chill and a cough, “thought I was being sneaky…”

“what're you doin’ out here?” Rick asks out of the blue, staring you up and down as you lean back into the tree.

“Rick," you sighed heavily, “go back.”

“I'm not goin’ back till you tell me what happened, y‘know that, don’t you?” Rick asked with a twinge of concern mixed with his southern drawl.

You paused.

“I'm leaving, Alexandria,” You rubbed your forehead as your stomach grumbled. Sliding down to sit as your back leaned onto the tree further.

“If this is about your illness we can make—“Before Rick could finish his sentence you interrupted.

“Make it work? Yeah, I don’t think so…” You retorted, “You don’t understand, Rick. I have a condition where my bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells, and I have no meds to help me, what are the chances of finding a pharmacy? A pharmacy where it has all the things I need to survive?” You spat, frustration filling your mind like hot liquid.

“Denise can help you, Y/n, you have seen her efforts in helping you,” You can sense Rick’s desperation to get you back to Alexandria’s infirmary. His voice remained gentle but firm.

“Why, Rick?” Your eyes stared into Rick's ocean blue orbs, frustration, and confusion, “I’m not strong, anymore. I can’t go on runs, anymore. I can’t protect anyone.”

“Because we still need you—“

“Maybe it’s you who still needs me, Rick…” You spat, leaning your head on the wood as you got the strength to finally stand up, with the support of the tree, of course.

“Y/n we can discuss this once we get back,” Rick sighed, coming closer to you as he held both your arms gently.

A rush of adrenaline painfully scours into your veins as you push him away with all the remaining strength you have.

“GODDAMNIT RICK, WHY CANT YOU JUST LET ME DIE OUT THERE!” You yelled at him. “YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO BE A BURDEN AND YOU SAW HOW MANY PILLS I HAD ON THE TABLE!”

Rick scoffed, “You're giving up now? After all that has happened? The prison, terminus… and you decide to end it all here? Where we’re finally safe?” His tone wasn’t as gentle but it was now harsher, deeper.

“if you think more treatments, will change anything, it won’t. I'm done and I won't let you guilt me into continuing this charade.”

“then what’re you gon’ tell Carl, hm? That you’re sick of bein’ alive so now you’re gonna leave?”

“This isn’t about Carl, Rick it’s about you keeping me to fill in the gap of what Lori gave you,” you glare with poison in your very eyes. “Leaving you to care for a child that was never yours.”

Rick went quiet, as you realized what you had said, “i-I’m sorry… Rick…” you pleaded, holding his hands.

Rick sighed, “Maybe you're right."

You nodded, your breath becoming shorter as your legs finally give in. You feel your body starting to shut down. Rick helped you sit down comfortably on the ground. You were paler and had many bruises on your arms and legs. You were heating up again.

“I'm sorry, Rick,” you breathed heavily, clutching the hand he gave you.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Rick comforted you, kissing her knuckles as her legs trembled. Rick’s voice was shaky, almost labored.

“I don’t wanna turn, you can ask Daryl to keep my gun, you’ll need it,” You softly chuckled. Rick looked at you, taking his revolver from his holster.

“Get back to Alexandria, to Judith…” you smiled as you felt bile in your throat, blocking your airway and your heartbeat becoming more abnormal.

Rick gives you a final kiss on the head as an act of kindness and comfort on the edge of a quick and painless death.

—————————————————————

a/n: Hello everyone! This is my very first Fanfic and I thought about it on the spot 😭 Reading it for me makes me kinda cringe but don’t we all? Anyways hope you guys enjoyed it (cuz I didn’t but I’m a sucker for tragic love)

#rick grimes #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #andrew lincoln #first fanfic #the walking dead universe #BiscuitWrites #twd oneshot

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improbable-outset · 9 months

Text

𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧-𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈

(Part 1 here)

Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 ★ | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 ✎ | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Food (?), Brief hospital settings, memory loss, medical examining, head trauma, post injury, Wife!Reader. Reader is just so lost in all this :(

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @thel0velykey190 @oharaludes @deputy-videogamer

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re finally given a diagnosis from the hospital on why you’re experiencing memory loss. After being discharged, Miguel leads you through the city of Nueva York and shows you memories of your shared life. However one question still nags your mind: what was the cause of the accident?

𝐀/𝐍: I’m not the sentimental type but I know Miguel will be, especially with reader’s cooking 🥹🫠

It’s been several days since you woke up from your comatose state. Everything was far out of your reach, even your memory of your husband. During those days while you were staying in the hospital, the nurse had been taking different tests to identify the cause of your memory loss. You had to move from different departments in the hospital including the Emergency Department and Neurophysiology Department. You were assessed with various aspects of your brain function including your reflexes and brain coordination. Though the most daunting part was imaging studies where they had to scan around the head area to identify anything unusual in your brain functioning or blood flow. You were uncomfortable with the thought of lying down and sliding into the tunnel, which seemed to swallow you whole. It didn’t help that they had to strap you to the bed to ensure you stayed still while the scan was on but Miguel was there with you throughout the procedure, constantly reassuring you and reminding you that it was important to do these tests so you could have a better understanding on what’s going on with your mental state.

But even with his constant presence, you still couldn’t shake off the drowning feeling of being lost. It was suffocating at times and you knew Miguel was trying his best to make you feel comfortable and safe as a husband should but no matter how hard you tried, Miguel just couldn’t feel like home to you; even if you didn’t really know what home was.

After the CT scan, you were given a diagnosis and the doctors had told you that you have a Traumatic Brain Injury and the memory loss was caused by Post-Traumatic Anemia. Your initial reaction was pure confusion - it all sounded like mere words to you until they explained that some regions in your brain were damaged after the accident. The thought made you feel uneasy. You realised that these damaged regions held the key to your core memories that you’ll never recover from. You couldn’t even remember what led up to the accident but whatever it was must’ve been something disastrous. After finalising everything, you were prescribed pain killers for the headaches and were discharged from the hospital, now sitting on the passenger side of Miguel’s car and on your way home. The car ride was quiet but comfortable. However, there was the queasy feeling of anticipation that settled at the pit of your gut not only because of the diagnosis but also with whatever lies ahead in the future, making you fidget in your seat; your clothes brushing against the leather seat was the only noise in the car that filled the silence. Miguel seemed to notice and tried to distract you from your thoughts.

“Mi amor, do you recognise these streets? Are you familiar with where we are?” Miguel looked at you briefly as he spoke before his eyes were on the road again. Every street looked the same to you especially now when it was dark out and all you could catch were streetlights and headlights.

“Barely…” You replied dryly. You scanned your surroundings and tried to jog your memory again. The bustling metropolis with its constant car honking, swarming pedestrians and the distant whine of sirens was a significant contrast to the still hospital room being engulfed by pale walls and the sickly sweet smell of disinfectant. Sure, the hospital was chaotic sometimes but it was still organised and everyone had their own roles and knew what to do. Here in the streets, everyone was unpredictable with where they were going to go. Some formed crowds like a moth surrounding a light bulb and some were walking alone. Even though it was well past rush hour and it was late, the streets were still packed.

“Barely? So you do recognise it a little?” Miguel said, his voice had some optimism to it. He glanced back at you again and tried to read your expression.

“Yeah…. I remember being surrounded by buildings and lights like this before but I don’t know exactly where we are.” You knew that you lived in Nueva York which was a busy city and was always surrounded by tall buildings but you couldn’t distinguish any of them or any of the landmarks.

“That’s alright mi amor… it’ll take some time getting used to. We’re almost home now.” Miguel was now driving to a quieter neighbourhood with less people and more residential areas. The streets were now filled with houses and garages. Miguel parked up the car in front of one of the houses and killed the engine.

“We’re here…home sweet home.” He announced. He got out of the car first before going to the passenger side and opening the door for you. You stepped out of the car and observed the exterior of the house. Miguel opened the front door and gestured for you to follow him. You were first introduced to the hallway that led you to the living room.

“This is our place?” You asked, taking in the interior. The living room was pretty spacious only because there wasn’t too much furniture around. The decor was pretty simple with a few paintings on the wall which made the room feel more cozy. The room was illuminated with a warm gentle glow of the wall sconces that were strategically lined on the walls and casted comforting shadows around the room.

“Sí mi amor. We’ve made this a home together.” He then took you to the kitchen which was half the size of the living room but it was still just as welcoming, with a small dining table and two chairs. You imagined how unbearable it must’ve been for Miguel to sit there alone for so long with an empty chair in front of him, the chair where you were supposed to be. “How about I make you some dinner…I’m sure you’re bored of eating the hospital's bland food.” He chuckled before gathering the ingredients in the pantry.

“You don’t have to go through extra trouble for me.”

“Trouble? Cooking for my beautiful wife is never trouble, mi vida.” He smirked almost as if what you said was plain nonsense. Your heart soared regardless. A change of food choices was needed. Even though you couldn’t remember what Miguel’s food was like, you still looked forward to whatever he had planned and food made by his own hands made it even more special. The kitchen was now full of the aroma of spices and oil with the sound of sizzling from the pan. A few moments later, Miguel returned to you with two plates full of food and put one in front of you with the steam hitting your nostrils.

“Thank you. It looks lovely.” You took a bite with your fork and were blown away with new flavours and spices. The texture was just right, now that it was easier to swallow solid food.

“How does it taste, hermosa?” Miguel asked, a hint of apprehension reflected in his eyes.

“It’s delicious! Definitely better than the hospital food.” You beamed, taking another mouth full. Miguel watched you in amusement.

“Thank you, but it will never be as good as your cooking.”

“I could cook better than this?” The statement sounded hard to believe.

“Sí…you know the night before the incident you made an amazing dinner and there were a lot of leftovers.” He paused, a smile tugged on his lips as he recalled the memory of that night - it must’ve been really special to him. “I decided to freeze it so I could preserve it as long as I could. I was hoping I could have a piece of you with me whenever I was having dinner while you were still in a coma. It was like you were there with me.”

“Really? Miguel, I’m flattered.” Everything Miguel had told you so far would always bring a shock to you but this carried a lot more weight to it. You tried to imagine yourself in this kitchen, cooking a meal for the two of you. You were probably very passionate about everything you made and Miguel would come home to you with a freshly cooked meal. Or maybe you only cooked just to survive and made whatever was available and Miguel would appreciate it anyways. Regardless, the fact that Miguel preserved your cooking must’ve meant that your food was decent enough at least. It clearly held a special place in his heart. After dinner, Miguel led you out of the kitchen.

“Come on, mi vida. Let me show you our bedroom.” He held your hands as he spoke and took you up the stairs.

The bedroom was just as simple yet cozy as the rest of the house. The first thing you noticed was the bed that was placed in the middle against the far wall. A testament of your shared space. The bed itself looked inviting with its crisp white linen and plumped pillows layer out nicely. On each side were two nightstands with a collection of objects on each. One side had a collection of old books and the opposite had a vase with a bouquet of dried roses.

“I want to show you something.” Miguel said as he opened a drawer from one of the cabinets and took out a thick book.

“What is it?” You asked. He took a seat on the bed and gestured for you to sit with him, patting the empty space besides him. You followed suit and sat on the bed, your arm pressed against his strong ones making your cheeks heat up a little. You were still not used to being in close proximity to his muscles yet.

“Our wedding photo album.” He said as he opened the book to show you the first few pictures. There were some photos of you taken separately and some standing together. You ran your fingers over the pages, studying each picture, more specifically the dress you were wearing. You had to admit to yourself that you looked magical in your wedding dress. It was flattering on your body type and your hair was styled beautifully with some floral decorations etched in your locks.

“This is ... incredible. Is that the wedding dress I chose? It’s beautiful.” You said in awe, still marveling at the pictures.

“Yes, you chose this dress, mi amor. It took you almost a week to finally pick the perfect one. You were radiant that day. Though, I think you would’ve looked good in anything.” Miguel commented. You turned the page to a picture of you and Miguel at the altar. You were hand in hand and facing each other, the picture captured the both of you laughing at something. This must’ve been when you were exchanging your vows.

“Tell me about this moment.” You pointed at the photo.

“That was when you tried to steal a kiss before I could say ‘I do.’” He chuckled at the memory. It was frustrating that you couldn't recall any of this, especially the fact that your relationship with Miguel must’ve been full of banter like this. But flipping through the album gave you a glimpse of your marriage dynamics. You hoped that things will be carefree between the two of you like that again.

“Thank you for showing me this, Miguel…” you smiled, your heart felt a little fuller now after seeing those pictures but you noticed Miguel’s expression dropped as he closed the book and placed it on one of the nightstands. He turned to face you again, his eyes flicking with something you couldn’t read.

“Mi amor,” he held onto your fingers again and caressed the knuckles with his thumbs, just like how he did in the hospital, the moment you woke up from your comatose state for the first time. “I know this will sound sudden but I have to know…do you love me?” His voice trembled. The question took you by surprise, you didn’t expect to be asked about this. You thought for a moment and tried to come up with an answer without sounding dismissive. Miguel looked deep into your eyes, desperately trying to read your expression.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Miguel.” You began, your voice was laced with uncertainty. The room became hushed, recognising the gravity of the situation. “…but everything is so distant and out of my reach. It’s hard to love someone that you barely remember.” Miguel’s expression revealed his pain as he listened intently to your answer. The air seemed to be amplified by the fragility of the situation as he continued.

“What about attraction? Are you drawn to me, even a little?” There was pain evident in his voice now as he spoke. You hesitated as you tried to find the words and navigated through your complex thoughts.

“I feel something…but it’s like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. But the thought of losing that connection we had, the thought of losing us…it’s tearing me apart.” He released his grip from your fingers and fell limply on his lap. You desperately wanted to comfort him but you couldn’t find the words to and you couldn’t lie about your feelings either. All you could do was watch and you felt a little useless not knowing what to do.

“Miguel, can I get a little closer to you? Can we lay down and cuddle on the bed…on our bed?” You asked, hoping you could lift his somber mood. He looked back up at you and smiled after hearing you ask that.

“Sí. There’s nothing I would want more than to be close to you right now.” You both settled into the bed, facing each other with one of Miguel’s big arms wrapped around your waist and you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “I missed having you in my arms like this, mi esposa.” He whispered, his breath fanning against your ear. You were engulfed by the soft comforter, almost like the bed recognised your presence and missed you laying on it. You imagined Miguel felt the same just like the two-seated dining table in the kitchen.

“It must've been torture having to sleep here alone for that long.” You commented.

“You have no idea…” He held you closer, afraid to let you slip away with his touch leaving an essence trail of musk and cinnamon. The two of you stayed in this position for a while in silence, until you remembered about Miguel’s work, breaking the stillness of the moment.

“Miguel, will you have to go back to work tomorrow?” You asked reluctantly.

“I’m afraid so, mi esposa.”

“But I don’t want you to leave me alone. Please…” your voice trembled.

“I know I know. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. But duty calls and I have to go.” His voice softened, trying to get you to understand. He hated leaving you alone especially in the current circumstances you were in but there are some things he just can’t ignore.

“You sound like a superhero saying that.” You joked, attempting to bring some light into the situation. But you didn’t expect to feel Miguel’s muscles clench around you, almost like what you said triggered something in his mind. The air thickened with a palpable tension that was almost suffocating. The change in mood made you retreat from his neck to see his face. His eyes looked like they were lost in thought while his body had stiffened, the sight made you slightly uncomfortable.

“Miguel… did I say something wrong?” You watched him blink rapidly out of his trance and relax his muscles. He looked back at you and his gaze softened again.

“You said nothing wrong mi amor…I promise I’ll explain everything about my job in due time okay? Do you think you could use tomorrow to familiarise yourself around the house while I’m gone? There’s more photo albums you could look at.” You were still hesitant about all of this but you didn’t want to get in the way of whatever was important to Miguel and his job so you nodded slowly, unable to voice your agreement. Miguel reached for your face, caressing your cheek and brushing his thumb lightly over your lower lip. He leaned in and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for understanding,” He murmured, voice filled with relief. As the night progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder what was so important about Miguel’s job that you had to wait to find out and why nobody had told you about what caused the accident.

No because now I’m getting more ideas on how to expand this. I was thinking of posting another chapter, explain the cause of the accident (yes it does involve Miguel being Spider-Man). Should I do it or just leave it to your interpretation??🤔

Maybe have Miguel’s POV this time?? I didn’t think I’d get this far?? Also first post-coma kiss??? I was gonna add that in this chapter but I think readers already been though so much and I want to wait for that perfect pivotal moment.

#Miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #★— ayrus writes

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deathbxnny · 11 months

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Hi there! So i was comparing the elements in HSR to the ones in Genshin Impact (out of boredom) and well an idea came to me and hope you could do it. Can i request hcs of The Astral Express Crew (Himeko, Welt, March, Dan heng, and Caelus) x s/o with a Dendro Vision. The dendro element always interest me, especially their many elemental reactions, something that i would always use with my Nahida (my FIRST ARCHON CHARACTER I GOT :D), so can you also include their reactions to dendro’s elemental reactions? Like burgeon, Hyperbloom, Bloom, and Quicken. Like could you imagine them just bringing out a water bottle and combined it with their dendro vision just to make a bloom reaction XD

Btw out of curiosity, what do you think of Sampo? (This is DEFINITELY not related to the Museum event thing :) ) hope you have a great day/night!

- Flower Anon 🌸

-----♡

A/N: Hello there, Flower Anon! Thank you for the interesting request, I really like it, but had to leave out Dan Heng due to my 4 character limit! I'm sorry if this is really bad or incoherent btw. I'm extremely sleep deprived and a little stressed (it's 2 am rn-), but I also randomly found out today, that I suffer from extremely severe Anemia, which is somehow... fitting.

But anyways, to your question, I actually have a love/hate relationship with Sampo. I rolled my eyes so hard, when it turned out to be Sampo all along in that event, because I just KNEW it was him. But he's also very hot, so I'll forgive him.

Content: Fluff, established relationships, reader has a dendro vision, mentions of battle, minor explosions, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》March 7th

March was amazed by the concept of visions, before even understanding what they really were. So it wasn't all to surprising, when she practically squealed in excitement at seeing you create a dendro core. She found it super cute and immideatly went to take pictures of it.

But when you made it react with electricity and showed her how hyperbloom worked, she was practically exploding from the excitement she was experiencing. She had never seen such a cool thing before and took plenty of pictures to immortalise this great moment of discovery.

This also extended with her watching you in anticipation on the battlefield, hoping to see your vision in action just once more to satisfy her curiosity and amazement.

-----♡

》Himeko

Himeko always found your vision amusing and fascinating. She liked to watch you use it for the mundanest things and then ask you plenty of questions regarding it's use. And she definitely had many questions too, which you thankfully always answered with ease.

She was mostly interested in whether you two could use it in battle together, mainly due to her finding it romantic if you could combine your abilities that way. Which is how you happily introduced her to the burgeon reaction.

She was eager to try it out in battle and it was certainly destructive for sure. You supplied the dendro cores, before she exploded them with her fire abilities. To say that you two were an unbeatable power duo after that, would be an understatement.

-----♡

》Caelus

Caelus found your dendro cores especially quite cute and fascinating. He liked watching them explode, though he quickly learned to stand at a safe distance away from them, if he valued his life. It just made him more interest though, as he wondered how such a little dendro core could cause so much damage.

With that said, he'll demand you create them often, always eager to hand you a water bottle, as he patiently waits for you to make them. He also takes pictures of you doing so, because seeing you use your vision males him feel oddly satisfied and happy.

Caelus gets even more excited to watch you on the battlefield because of it. And the moment he finds out what burgeon is? Yeah, he's having the time of his life with these dendro reactions, that's for sure.

-----♡

》Welt Yang

Welt was quite interested in the biology and functionalities of applying dendro and electro on someone to create quicken. Especially as it gives you a boost for a stronger third attack. He's practically going through the math himself as you explain it to him in detail. And he certainly wants all the details.

He definitely tries helping you out with creating better and stronger reactions by researching about it himself. He'll show you his findings and watch you use your abilities quite often, as the concept of visions alone interests him already. The fact that they exist is just fascinated on it's own.

And so, he gets quite eager to watch you apply quicken on your enemies, as he knows that the next attack will absolutely destroy the enemy who was unfortunate enough to attack you that day.

-----♡

A/N: Alright, I hope this is remotely coherent. Thank you again for the request and support, Flower Anon!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr march 7th x reader #hsr march 7th #hsr caelus #hsr caelus x reader #hsr himeko #hsr himeko x reader #hsr welt #hsr welt x reader #hsr

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

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IF if if you have the spoons... any tips or suggestions for a racing heart? It's at a gallop and I'm just sitting at my desk.

Obligatory: I am not a doctor and you should talk to a doctor. If this is a medical emergency go to your nearest ER.

Now that I’ve got that out of the way, I’m assuming you’re asking from a potential POTS/dysautonomia perspective because I was recently talking about it. If this is the case, the most common way to combat elevated heart rate is to lie down and elevate your feet above your heart so the blood stops pooling in your legs and your heart doesn't have to work as hard.

Hydration with electrolytes and a salty snack is also recommended as electrolyte imbalance and dehydration can make anyone’s heart go bonkers, not just us POTSies.

Some people find compression therapy helpful. I find midriff compression (think spanx) works best for me combined with compression socks. It helps keep my blood in my core. I also sit cross-legged at my desk as I find sitting with my legs extended causes my blood pressure to drop too much. Keeping them crossed while in an upright position helps maintain my blood pressure, and helps keep my heart from elevating too much.

If you drink a lot of sugar or caffeine, you might want to look into cutting down to see if it helps symptoms.

You can also get salt tabs for added electrolytes. Vitassium make plain or flavored ones, so it’s a bit more like candy instead of just eating salt, lol. They flavors do contain stevia though, just in case you have MCAS or other sensitivities.

If none of that helps you might want to talk to your doctor about better medication management.

If you don’t have POTS and this happens frequently, get yourself checked for anemia. It's easy for the symptom to get written off as anxiety, but it can be a warning sign of something else going on.

Hope that helps!

#chronic health tag #POTS

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elkian · 5 months

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I've probably said this before, but I absolutely love the Body Improvement Club in Mob Psycho 100, both in general and in what they bring to the story.

Early in the series, we're introduced to the Telepathy Club, essentially a hang-out gang for three disaffected tweens (their fourth member having just quit), only one of whom cares at all about telepathy for real. Lacking appropriate numbers, they're at immediate risk of losing their club room space. Enter Shigeo (Mob) who has actual psychic powers.

Ultimately the story closes with the Body Improvement Club taking the clubroom, but since they're constantly jogging, lifting, etc., they graciously allow the remaining Telepathy Club members to use the space.

Sidenote: I've seen a very interesting point about how Tome's motivations and inner monologue are given way more space than all of the BIC's combined, because she's trying to scam Shigeo while the BIC is just chillin', and Shigeo volunteers to join them unasked. Anyways, the focus here is on the buff bois.

The Body Improvement Club is full of unfeasibly jacked middle-schoolers, and one would be forgiven for assuming it's chock-full of stereotypical jocks. However, the BIC is actually full of nascent himbos. Every member of the club is constantly decent (if a little skewed in perceptions due to the Gainz being their core focus). This is really refreshing, especially with how they interact with Shigeo.

Shigeo starts the series as, well, a boilerplate bonafide wimp. He has no muscle mass, faints after a couple meters of sprinting (whether he actually has anemia or if that was a catch-all that didn't translate is uncler to me), can barely lift one of the smallest weights, etc. He starts out as the standard psychic minmaxer - absurdly powerful PSI, wet tissue body.

In fact, we only encounter a handful of psychics who have any physical prowess, and at least two of them (Teru, and the muscle dude from the mid-Claw arc) are implied or explicitly using their psychic powers to bolster their phsyical body.

(Sidenote, this is why Serizawa fanart of him being jacked is so damn funny to me - he went from stagnant shut-in to VIP in the Psychic Power Is The Only Thing That Matters Gang. When, exactly, was he hitting the gym?)

Shigeo doesn't, according to a significant chunk of the cast, need anything except his ESP. It's ridiculous for him to start weight training and jogging when he could just use his brain boost to do it!

And I think that's a big part of why I like the Body Improvement Club and their involvement in the series so much. Because MP100 is a story about becoming more than the lottery of birth, pushing yourself and improving yourself and learning to connect with other people.

And Shigeo not only improves his physical body by participating in the club, but constantly exemplifies this core theme by doing so.

(And in the epilogue he is 200% beef with his normal head on top, it's hilarious.)

But the real kicker here is how the other tweens in the club treat him. Because the "Improvement" part of "Body Improvement Club" is not tacked on for show. Every time Shigeo makes any kind of milestone, the entire club celebrates him. They are completely genuine in this, celebrating his accomplishments just as much as he is. It's not only endearing, but extremely encouraging, and not just to Shigeo. Watching a kid who struggled to pick up a gallon of milk become super buff in the end is funny, yes, but it's also a great way to end the seres. Not only did his effort matter, but his effort was recognized by the people around him.

Hell, in essence, I've just predicted the Separation Arc (spoilers) - because while there's multiple elements involved, what I remember really kicking this off is Reigen dismissing Shigeo's social life - something he has absolutely struggled to achieve at all. Something that, in the beginning, Reigen was supposed to be teaching Shigeo to improve at.

That isn't this post, though. My point is the Body Improvement Club.

ONE could have written the BIC as standard jocks whose encouragement was sarcastic or outright cruel, but he refused to take that easy route and instead made them a major element in Shigeo's growth. The message of the Body Improvement Club is the message of the series as a whole, in a way - that the effort one puts in (with the help of a good friend of five) matters much more than whatever you were born with. That striving to improve is essential to life, and worthwhile friends will celebrate your accomplishments. The Body Improvement Club is full of boys who are already tough and strong, but every single one of them praises Shigeo for his progress, no matter how it might compare to their own.

And I mentioned that Shigeo is buff in the epilogue, but I think it's worthwhile to note that this isn't just a visual gag. His buffness is revealed as he's discussing the trajectory of the club with one of the other members, in the next school year - and the other member acknowledges that the presence of the then-small, skinny, weak Shigeo had a useful effect on the image of the club. Because there was more than just a wall of beef already there, tentative newcomers could feel more secure in joining and improving theirselves, as was the club's goal. It's difficult to join a group of people you perceive as way more talented than you already - Shigeo's noted obliviousness to unspoken trends is actually a huge boon here, as it helped him volunteer without thinking this. But it wouldn't have been possible for him to improve without the goodwill of his peers.

Anyways, I love the Body Improvement Club and will never shut up about it, goodnight.

#mp100 #elk text

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