i really dislike how pain is considered the standard in talking about disability this is not directed at individual people who are just conveying their own experiences, this is on like a fundamental clinical level. im disabled due to my chronic fatigue which is caused by many of the same things as chronic pain. but when im seeking resources its always stuff for chronic pain like i have done medical programs where they're just like "just in your head specifically replace 'pain' with 'fatigue'" and yeah all the techniques to help ease chronic pain do help with fatigue but i can't help but feel like there are so many people out there who have chronic fatigue and just think that's the normal way to be, and who never check any mental boxes disability-wise because the only thing doctors and diagnostics are looking for is pain (which, of course, also doesnt get treated, but for different reasons). this does carry over to the way a lot of individuals and activists talk about it, and i hope that we can all change our viewpoints and ways of speaking about it but again im not going to blame people for talking about what they know

So, I have another crazy story about the clinic where I used to work; this time as a patient instead of an employee. Under a cut because it's very long.

So back when I first got really sick, I was in the hospital a few times primarily for really high heart rate. I work out a lot and my normal resting heart rate is in the 60s; back in February I suddenly started getting palpitations, and my heart rate was going up to like 140 bpm just standing at my bathroom sink washing my face. I wore a seven day monitor at one point and my highest recorded heart rate on that was 157 bpm--just shuffling like a zombie around the house. I was also super weak and just felt overall like death.

Hospital runs a bunch of labs and imaging tests and can't find anything that would explain it. The last doc I saw said there was a bright spot on my echocardiogram monitor that could just be flashback from the monitor, but taken with some of my symptoms, he felt OK with a presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis (inflammation of the sac around your heart), especially as the treatment is just high dose ibuprofen for a week, nothing invasive or drastic. I need to follow up with a cardiologist, but I don't have a primary care physician who can refer me to the heart clinic. I had just turned in new patient paperwork at a local clinic so I contacted them to see if I could get in, but they said it would likely be a month before I could be scheduled with anyone.

In the meantime, the ibuprofen isn't working and my condition is getting worse. I have my next period, and after a couple of heavy days, I get even weaker, my heart rate goes even higher, and I get really dizzy all the time. I also am now short of breath just rolling over in bed. I legit feel like I'm dying. Because my symptoms get worse after blood loss, it suddenly pops into my head that about 17 years ago after a blood donation I got really sick, and all my symptoms that I can remember having at the time are the same, especially the cardiac issues. I took iron back then and that resolved it. I started wondering if my iron was low, did a bunch of research into iron deficiency without anemia, and realized every single symptom, including ones I had been having for a while prior to the heart issues (terrible fatigue, brain fog, headaches, sleep disruptions, restless legs at night) could be from low iron.

So I need to get labs done, and also I do still need a referral to make sure my heart is ok. I can't get in with anyone, so out of desperation, I go back to my old clinic because I know they'll get me in quickly. They schedule me an appointment for the next day with a doc who is going to turn out to be batshit crazy.

I go to my appointment with my presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis, and the doctor asks if I had the Covid shot. I tell him yes, but my last booster was in 2021, so not relevant here.

Well boy howdy was I wrong. He launches into a whole-ass rant about how bad the shots are, how many people have been injured by them, tells me I, a formerly very healthy, athletic woman, now have heart issues due to the shot, etc. etc. I say, 'Ok, but would the shot really randomly cause me issues three years later when I was perfectly fine after I got it?' (The answer is no.) Doc stays the course in blaming the shot. I have paperwork I need filled out for medical leave from my job, and he PUTS ON MY PAPERWORK THAT I HAVE TO TURN IN that my cardiac issues came on and progressed after the shot (three YEARS after, you DUMBASS) and that his impression is post vaccine injury. I feel too badly to do much more than sway on the exam table and occasionally interject that I had the shot three years ago and I don't think that's the problem. The majority of my appointment is him ranting about the shots. Whatever, I'm desperate, give me my fucking referral to the cardiologist and order my iron panel.

I get labs done and sure enough, my iron is low. I start supplementing and shortly afterwards get a call from the cardiac clinic; I lucked out and got in just a few days after my referral was sent to them because someone canceled their appointment last minute. I see an ARNP at my first visit and she says the echo I had done at the hospital looks fine to her, but they'll do a seven day monitor, a repeat echocardiogram, and have me follow up with the cardiologist just to make sure they don't miss anything.

So they do this, and in the meantime, after a couple of weeks on iron supplements, I start slowly but steadily feeling a bit better. My fatigue and brain fog that I was having every day improve significantly after only a week on supplements. My dizziness goes away. I feel a tiny bit stronger every day and now can sit up longer and start holding conversations with people. It's slow but steady progress for about three weeks: and then I get my period again. It doesn't knock me back to square one, but I definitely take a couple of steps back in my recovery. It's a little lighter this time, though, which is a good sign.

I follow up with the cardiologist. He says actually my heart is in really good shape; no signs of pericarditis or anything wrong with it; my high heart rate isn't due to a cardiac issue. Cool. I didn't think so at this point, but good to hear I don't have heart issues.

So I go back to follow up with my doc and plan to ask to really focus on the iron issue since the cardiologist confirmed my heart is fine. I have come a long ways but am still mostly bedridden; it is very slow to get your levels up on iron supplementation, and every time I get my period, it sets me back a little. Maybe some low dose iron infusions would help boost my levels so my recovery doesn't go backwards on account of me bleeding for a week every few weeks.

Doc comes in the room. He is clearly Not Happy cardiology did not confirm his conspiracy theories about the shot injuring me. I tell him about the symptoms I have seen improve and even resolve after about six weeks on iron supplements, and how I think most if not all of my problems are from low iron. He pretty much completely ignores this. He asks me if my fatigue and brain fog have improved. I say, yes, they were some of the first symptoms to improve after I started taking iron. He does not even acknowledge I have spoken. He tells me he thinks I have a combination of chronic fatigue syndrome and POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome) caused by the shot. I remind him I just told him my fatigue had improved a lot since starting iron. And my heart rate is coming down too and not spiking as much, my issue is that every period after I've been improving, I suddenly get a little worse again. He ignores this. He tells me he is going to refer me to the neurologist to check for chronic fatigue and POTS. Ok, whatever, I'm pretty sure I don't have those things, but fine, have another specialist tell you you're wrong.

After about eight weeks on supplements, I really feel like I'm starting to turn a corner. I don't feel normal, but my heart rate has come down quite a bit, I can stand and walk around a lot longer without feeling like I'm going to pass out, and I feel the closest to normal that I have been in months.

And then I get my period again and my heart rate goes back up. I'm super frustrated at this point because I was So Close to being a functioning human again, so I decide to push for a low dose iron infusion. I just want to boost my levels high enough to get me over this hump so every period doesn't set me back right as I feel like I'm coming back to life. I've read lots of papers on iron deficiency without anemia (meaning your hemoglobin is normal) and decide to make an appointment armed with one paper in particular which was written by a doctor who has been treating iron deficiency for decades, and which lays out really comprehensively the numbers at which patients should be considered deficient based on their labs and symptoms, what numbers you should shoot for when treating the iron deficiency (I am higher now but still quite a ways away from the goal), and also lists a bunch of symptoms women in particular have reported that have resolved with iron treatment. I highlight all the symptoms on the list that I have had, as well as other sections particularly relevant to my specific case. (Spoiler alert: I did not even give him the paper.)

So I go to my appointment and he asks if I've heard from the neurologist yet. I say no, I'm sure it will be a while (there's only one in town, and I'm sure it takes a long time to get in). In the meantime, I really want to focus on getting my iron levels up. I lay everything out: all the improvements I've seen, how my period keeps setting me back, and how I want to try just a low 100mg infusion to boost me up so I don't take two steps back every time I get my period. He tells me I have chronic fatigue and POTS as a result of the Evil Shot. I tell him, once again, that my fatigue has greatly improved on iron supplements. He does not even acknowledge I have spoken. He tells me a local doctor is being PERSECUTED and PROSECUTED for prescribing Ivermectin for Covid. Ok, that doesn't relate to my personal medical issues that we are here to discuss, and also, Ivermectin is not approved for the treatment of Covid. I ask him again if I can get a low dose infusion. I understand insurance probably won't cover it, that's fine, I can pay out of pocket, I just need him to order it. He tells me he personally takes Ivermectin. Good for you. Again, not related to my medical issues that I am here to dicuss.

I mention that I have had restless legs at night for a long time, because I know this at least is commonly associated with low iron, maybe that will get his attention; nope. He totally ignores me again. I even try blaming the shot for low iron (sorry, Covid vaccine, sometimes you have to take one for the team). I say I have read Covid and maybe even the shot can deplete your iron; maybe the shot did this to my iron. No dice. (Mr. Jenn did applaud me for trying when I told him about it, though.)

He starts in about my POTS again. I say, ok, but POTS is a postural issue, right? He says, yes! I say, ok, then if I have an issue where my nervous system doesn't regulate my blood flow properly when I change from sitting to standing, why is my resting heart rate way higher than normal when I'm just lying in bed doing nothing, and why has my heart rate been coming down and is not spiking like it was after several weeks on iron supplements until I get my period? I'm not sure that fits with POTS.

He again does not even acknowledge I've spoken.

I ask again for an infusion to help boost me up so I'm not set back every period. He says as long as I'm menstruating it will set me back. Yes, I am aware I will lose more iron on my period, what I am asking is that while I am in ACTIVE CLINICAL IRON DEFICIENCY can we please do something to speed up getting my levels high enough so every time I bleed it doesn't knock me down again. He asks if I have considered a hysterectomy or uterine ablation for the bleeding (you know, invasive surgeries, instead of talking about birth control pills, which he didn't even mention). I said that was kind of extreme and I didn't want to consider that right now. I ask him about the infusion again. He says it's not a concern. I say, yeah, it is, I am having debilitating symptoms that have left me bedridden for three months. I need to get back to my life and my job. He tells me Congress is investigating the shots and it will come out how bad they are, but a lot of people won't believe it. I say, well, that's Congress' business, can I please have an infusion. He tells me insurance won't cover it. I say I know, I already mentioned that earlier (while you were ignoring me in favor of ranting about a vaccine I had three years ago), I have a health savings account, I can pay out of pocket. He tells me he's pretty sure I have chronic fatigue and POTS but we'll see what the neurologist says. I need to call and see if I can get in more quickly with the neurologist. I say, ok, in the meantime, since realistically it could take months for me to get in with the neurologist, can I PLEASE HAVE A FUCKING INFUSION. He tells me if I want one I will have to badger another doctor into it. (I can't remember the exact word he used, but the way he worded it made it sound like I was trying to bully him. No, you jackass, I am asking for an extremely common, low risk medical treatment for issues that have left me unable to work or leave my house for anything other than doctor's appointments for THREE MONTHS.)

So I left incredibly frustrated, needless to say.

Next day Mr. Jenn goes to his appointment at the clinic I initially tried to get into to follow up on labs he had done for an annual physical, and his doctor tells him his cholesterol is slightly high, but not enough to be concerned, he just needs to watch his saturated fats and red meat intake. Mr. Jenn tells him we've actually temporarily increased our red meat intake because of my health issues. He then mentions all of the issues I've been having, my lab results, and how I've improved a lot on supplements, but keep getting set back by my period. His doctors goes, 'Have you guys looked into infusions for her? You should try that.'

I DID BUT MY DOCTOR IS CRAZY.

Mr. Jenn explains that I had asked for an infusion and my doctor refused. His doctor gives him a weird look and wants to know why. Mr. Jenn explains it's because he's super set on it being chronic fatigue and POTS and won't consider anything else even though my 'chronic fatigue' and 'POTS' symptoms have both improved on iron supplements. The doctor again gives him a weird look and asks why he's stuck on those diagnoses and won't consider iron deficiency.

Because he's crazy, good sir.

Mr. Jenn's doctor then suggests we see if I can self-refer for an infusion and just pay out of pocket, but you need a doctor's order even if you're not going through insurance, so the next day when the clinic opens, I call, explain I tried to establish care there earlier so they have my new patient paperwork, but that I needed an urgent referral, and had to go somewhere else because they were a month out, but I really (REALLY) want to change doctors, is <Mr. Jenn's doc> taking new patients? He is not, but they'll put in a note with one of the ARNPs accepting new patients to see if they're willing to schedule me.

However, I know the new manager of the clinic (actually an old coworker from the crazy clinic that I'm friendly with), so the other day I texted her, briefly explained the situation, and she asked which doctor I wanted to see and said she'll talk to him when he's back from the long holiday weekend and see if he would be willing to see me. She will let me know later this week (he's not back in till Wednesday). So fingers crossed I can get in with a non-lunatic soon.

I would like to request! Can I request? Well I wish for you to consider what type of person/what kind of situation would cause the brothers to make a pact with someone. Maybe even what they would request in exchange? This can be before or after they met MC. With that out of the way, I totally binge read all of your works after my sister gushed to me about the True Form series, and just thank you??? It made me really happy reading them and it's always impressively detailed and well thought out.

Awww thank you! I’m glad it’s rave-worthy! I plan to add to it soon bc it was an absolute riot to write and research for lol

And wow this one is a toughie! I’ve actually never thought of what would make them want a pact! Hope ya like it!

Lucifer- Pact of Success

Absolutely the hardest brother to do business with, but that is probably a good thing. He is incredibly selfish with his contracts. Sure, they’ll benefit from his pact mark, but he will get the most out of it. Aside from MC he only takes requests for contracts from the human “elite”. They make wonderful feathers in his cap.

But also he takes some enjoyment in breaking them. They always get so cocky with his contracts thinking that they have him on the ropes and at their beck and call. It gives him a good chuckle, humans are so brazen considering their very short lifespan.

He destroys them slowly over time- all the little minutia he peppers in his legal bindings adds up. Not that his normal clientele ever read the fine print. But he designed it that way to make sure they don’t. All their requests are the same and so simplistic. Big boats, fancy cars, climbing the proverbial ladder faster than their friends or enemies - blah-blah-blah. At least the paperwork is easy to complete.

Very rarely does he find a contract he is excited to make. Those contracts are given to artists and craftsmen he sees potential in. He loves good art, and every artist should take pride in their work.

When it comes to the “price” of his pact it is worryingly simple. All he wants is some of their time. It sounds simple, and it is. Which is why it’s dangerous. The contract doesn’t specifically say how or the rules of it. How he takes your time is completely up to him.

Sometimes he simply comes for a drink and to ask how business is going. Or with the pacts he gives a damn about- he pops in to see progress on their artist visions or listen to their latest musings.    

Other times if he grows tired of his pact holders’ ever-growing demands or ludicrous requests he comes and takes time right out of their lifespan. His visits leave them weak and fatigued though they can’t place why. He is a slow siphon of death and they are too foolhardy to notice. If he is feeling especially cruel, or sentimental he takes memories, things that a demon generally wouldn’t want.

Time with family, the first time they met the love of their life, a child’s birthday. He takes them all and leaves them with only a blurry recollection in his wake

When MC crosses his path though he is very apprehensive. He doesn’t want a pact or anything that could jeopardize Diavolo’s upcoming plans. But they make his skin itch with want. He doesn’t want them to be another trophy on his wall. He wants a mutually beneficial pact, one that almost leans in their favor and it grates him. Should/ when a pact is made he won’t use his powers on you as then he would have to take something in return. Instead, he takes his time and coaches them to be successful by their own right, though if he has to eliminate some obstacles- well they don’t need to know that.

Mammon- Pact of Riches

I love his man with all my heart, but even when he isn’t losing bets or getting tricked into pacts he still isn’t the most selective with who he conducts business with. He is the avatar of greed, after all. I guess it comes with the territory.

He scouts for already wealthy humans or people with a good head for numbers and is money smart. Some are too smart to deal with him, knowing that whatever monetary gain they are granted from him will backfire in the end (or their mama’s taught them not to make deals with strange demons). But a sucker is born every minute, and he has nothing but time on his hands.

His pacts are pretty simple and upfront. Sign on the dotted line and they get some of his wicked gamblers’ luck and more riches than one human life span could do much with. While he gets a glorified accountant and a nice percentage of their profits. It’s a win-win… for him.

See he forgets to mention that there are two sides to every coin, and his flip side is particularly detrimental to one’s health. He just so conveniently glosses over that his luck will wear out over time depending on how frequently the pact holder uses it.

But the hunger for more doesn’t. If anything that particular sensation grows into an all-consuming fire in the pit of their pitiful guts. It forces them back into the seedy basements or griming gambling halls. One more roll, one more stack of bills, just one more time and they will hit pay dirt surly! But the losses just keep coming. If one of his pact holders ends up face down in a ditch after one too many bad hands and uncontrollable greed… well ain’t nobody’s fault but their own.

He has a softer spot for humans that seek him out and treat him like a living being instead of some tool to be tossed around at will. It’s refreshing. He will actually take some care with these pacts and tell them to temper their use of his magic so they can get the most out of it in the long run. They still might run into misfortune and he is genuinely sorry for that but there is only so much he can do in the end.

With MC he doesn’t even tell them about what his pact can do or how to use it. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to his human. If they want something tell him he will do it himself no magic or pact summoning required. He wants to keep them happy and healthy for as long as his lifespan will allow.

If MC should find how to use his pact mark he will get pissed. Not so much at them but the situation in general. He’ll be upfront about the whole thing, judge him how they want but he refuses to let greed consume them too. He focuses a lot of time and energy on learning how to reel in his magic with them so they get some of the perks but none of the major downsides. Unlike with his other pacts where he lets it all just run wild (just means they use up their contact faster and he can move on to even bigger fish).

Leviathan- Pact of Wisdom and Skill

Surprisingly, despite his antisocial tendencies with “normies”, he gets around when it comes to contracts. Perhaps it’s jealousy at his other brothers or perhaps he finds collecting contracts a bit of a game on its own.

He has a small niche of people interested in his pacts. Pacts with him give people a strategic advantage in nearly any situation. Seemingly overnight his humans turn into near tactical geniuses. Because of that, he is very popular with military leaders and humans with dangerous careers.

He also makes mini contracts with foot soldiers and humans with dangerous oceanic jobs. They just want to make it out alive and he gets that. With contracts like these, he is more lenient and doesn’t ask for much. Make an offering of fancy food to Henry 2.0 or wait in line for a rare human figuring he wants. Wam-bam thank you ma’am kinda business.

This is completely different from his larger contracts. With the military contracts, he expects them to continue with their duties until they die in the field. Simple as that, he doesn’t mince words in his contract. It’s what he would do as General so he expects it from them. Should they try to define him he will get rid of them.

He takes delight in defiant contract holders. They think they are as clever as he is now. But they forget that they are using his magic. He could take his magic away right after they defy him sure...but he won’t. He lets them stew for a bit, thinking they have had the last laugh on envy. If they wish to play games with a General then he will make sure it’s good.

With MC he plays on easy mode, granting them insight and little touches of his magic during exam week or when playing a game against his brothers. He wants nothing in return from them but some quality hangout time.

Satan- The Pact of Retribution

As the only pure-blooded demon out of the seven, he does these pacts out of necessity like most other demons. While the others do it more so out of monetary gain and an obligation to the crown. Or if you’re Belphie, sheer enjoyment.

He does it because he hungers, it a hole in his very self that he is trying to fill. He hunts for one reason only- relief from his cardinal sin. He will never feel the calm after a storm of rage naturally. Patience and tranquility are the antitheses of his very creation. So he gets it artificially through his contracts.

He looks for the downtrodden, angry, and the most bitterly despondent humans he can find and gives them the chance to seek vengeance. He is very upfront with what his pact entails. Once the vengeance is complete his rage will consume them and they will become another soul for him to consume.

He isn’t cruel about the process or tries to trick a human into a mark. Very few of the ones he approaches turn him down even after hearing the details. It is possible that humans once shot to get even and he gets to feel bliss, to feel calm. He finds out that the longer or more obscure the plan for retribution is the sweeter the outcome is for Satan.

If he is feeling super ornery he will go after people affected by the outcomes of Lucifer’s pacts. They are easy prey and almost as wrathful as Satan himself. Bonus it aggravates Lucifer to no end when he has to go out of his way to clean up the mess Satan’s contract made of his own.  Anything to piss him off makes Satan feel all the better.

With MC he doesn’t need to use his pact magic. Mostly because they are always around him in the Devildom, and no one is stupid enough to mess with someone Satan favors. If someone or something does irritate his MC he will take it out before it can fester into something his magic will try to latch onto. Keeping you calm and happy makes him feel almost tranquil as well.

Asmodeus- Pact of Gratification

Another very popular pact to try to get, and how could it not? He is fabulous~ But as much as people try to find him, he only goes for a certain type of contract. He has his perfectly manicured fingers on the pulse of the fashion and beauty industry.

His name is a whisper among the up and comers in the business. Many-while not looking for a pact - at least want to see him at least once. Many never will, they get cut from their agency or quit before they could get a foothold. It happens, and he hates to see it. Everyone deserves to feel gorgeous, or at least get a chance to be in the same room as him!

But for the ones the perceiver and climb the ranks get invited to one of his many parties. They can only get invited by someone wearing his mark. He trusts them to know who would be amenable to his contract.

His pact grants its bearer a glamor that can’t be broken by any meer mortal or mage. It makes them absolutely irresistible. How they wield that power is completely up to the user, he won’t judge or intervene.

Once they sign the contract all his holders see him frequently. He absolutely loves dropping in on their shoots or fancy dinners to say hi or get a recap on how they are fairing. Not because he is a nice demon or just super friendly (though they would like to think so). No, he just likes to watch.  

His payment is slow, methodical and no one sees it happen until it is already complete. In exchange for beauty and the graduation of getting whatever their little hearts could as for he gets their ability to love, whether that be familiar or sexual. Asmo loves the feeling of being loved; he wants it in all ways possible.

Some pact holders don’t have an issue with this. They got their looks, a successful career, and people to manipulate to their heart’s content. Not having strong contentions with anyone works in their favor. But others don’t and while they search for him to try and get that little slice of humanity back he is long gone. He got what he wanted anyway.

MC is his darling. He can and will make a special contract just for them (reviewed by Lucifer). A beautiful new contract for a beautiful soul! He wants you as unchanged as possible because this MC is the one he fell for.

Beelzebub- Pact of Prowess

His pact is a very elusive one as he isn’t keen on going and looking for one. Beel isn’t a big fan of these trades, but he needs them every once and a while. Nothing is more filling than a contracted soul.

His trade is basic, make a pact and you get his strength. He, like Satan, is upfront about what his payment is and what side effects will plague them. He sees no reason to lie about it. The more they draw on his power the more the host's body gorges itself. Their bones will collapse in on themselves from the stress of it- the magic feeds on anything in the host bodies. It will deplete the iron in the blood, go after the calcium in the bones, sink its teeth in their muscle system.  

It’s all rather gruesome and Beel does feel bad about it. He tells though who are still adamant about binding with him ways they can negate some of the side effects by taking supplements and augmenting their diets.

But it is like patching a deep cut with a bandaid, it just won’t work. His stomach is near bottomless- humans most certainly aren’t. They simply can’t eat enough to sustain their body like he can.

It surprises him that people still seek him out. To some, the pros outweigh that very huge cons. Some really do believe that they can find a loophole or find the right mix of medication to offset it.

He doesn’t get beaten up about it anymore but it gets on his nerves how obstinate humans can be about his very clear warnings. When his magic finally consumes them he takes both the body and soul back down with him and feasts on both.

With MC he keeps an eye out on them. Consistently checking in, making sure they don’t skip a meal, and join him at the gym often. He wants them to be strong and healthy enough to not ever want to use his pact. Though he does speculate that their angelic bloodline buffers both his and his brother’s magic a good bit.

Belphegor- Pact of the Visionary

Dreamers come in every shape and size and from different walks of life. But they are are all suckers to Belphie. He is known as the Lord of Decet for a reason.

He will promise them everything and anything their heart desires. That invention that will change the world? Done. A patent that is long overdue. Easy enough. A sudden rush of ingenuity to complete that nagging project. He is a devil of his word, it will be done. It- just won’t be done in the way they would want it.  

See manipulating the physical realm is hard work. Like a lot of hard work. More than he would ever do for some stupid little human. It’s a lot easier to control outcomes in his realm.

The moment the contract is signed his hosts fall under his control and he takes it from there building a perfect little dream world for them to frolic in and believe they are getting what they want. He feeds off of them here, taking little sips from their energy and exploring these new fresh dream worlds. His dreamscapes get boring every once and a while, so having a new human under his influence is always refreshing.

While his humans thrive inside their minds their bodies waste away in bed as his magic draws them further and further into an endless sleep.

He doesn’t see anything wrong with his contracts. Who would argue with him that the dream realms aren’t real in their own sense? Did his humans not accomplish their goals in the end? He doesn’t think of the outside effects of his magic and pacts. Belphie really doesn’t care about what families he broke apart or lives he inadvertently affected.  

MC is different to him though. He doesn’t keep them under his spell hardly ever (maybe if they are spending too much time with Dia or Lucifer. But he doesn’t push it with them.).He still walks into their dreams whenever he feels but he comes just to visit, not to change. He simply just enjoys keeping you company and relaxing in the little mini paradise you always seem to create in your dreams.

Bread and Blood

Yandere Vampire Jimin x Reader

Genre: Yandere, Horror, Angst

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: blood, abuse, anxiety, insecurity, yandere themes, mentions of religion, reader getting ignored??

A/N: Hello hello everyone~ this took me s o long cause it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written but I hope you enjoy~ @strwbrry-lia

(I created the aesthetic myself 😊)

“Now now, Blood Bag. No need to get emotional over someone like him” whispered the blood-sucking monster that stood in front of you. Blood Bag. That was the ‘cute’ nickname he had come up with for you. The man in front of you wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The same hand that he put on your shoulder to make you look at him. “Why don’t you stop crying over that good-for-nothing for one second, and tell me what you were doing.”

Even though he used the word ‘why’, it was not a question. It was a command. Living with him for five months has taught you what different tones of voice he had. It was a wide range and some blurred with others making you tread lightly at those times. But right now, you knew you needed to respond correctly.

“I was just going to pack my things and bring them back home,” you choked through your tears as you tried your best to sound convincing.

“Tsk tsk, blood bag. We’ve talked about lying and that it’s bad. Haven’t we?” his grip on your shoulders became tighter as his red orbs stared into yours.

When you didn’t respond he repeated his question, “Haven’t we, blood bag?” His hand that was still covered in blood trailed the slope of your neck and wrapped his fingers to where you were struggling to breathe.

You quickly nodded. His fingers eased but did not leave the scarred and bruised skin. His eyes landed on the bite marks he’s left and couldn’t help the shiver slither up his spine. You were doing things to him that no one else could. Ever since he found you broken and beaten in this very building, his infatuation for you has only grown. How this happened, you have no clue. From the first time he bit you, you’ve been trying to leave his clutches. But you have no home, the only friend you had is now lying on the floor dead, and your family hates you. However, finding a place to stay wasn’t the only difficult part. The undead, blood-sucker wouldn’t let you leave.

“You always seem to be up in the clouds. Tell me, blood bag, what are you thinking about?” he spoke in his usual sickly sweet tone, masking the beast that was hiding.

“Thinking about how I got here,” you confessed and finally noticed you were back in the living room you’ve had to sit in for so many months.

“Well, that’s easy,” he stepped impossibly closer with his hands now cupping your face. “I saved you.”

⠽ ⡰⠑ ⠍⡠⠑

Tonight was no ordinary night. Tonight was Halloween. One of the most liked holidays. When kids go trick or treating and teenagers along with adults get drunk. Frights and screams are all around except for your little apartment at the edge of town. Your apartment was cold and dreary as you sat curled in your favorite corner. You were waiting impatiently for the inevitable beating that was coming for you. The knocks at your door went ignored as you cowered behind your bed.

An hour of waiting ended in a thunderous pounding at your door. Covering your ears did nothing to drown out the loud banging. Suddenly, in the middle of your panic-filled mind, you think of the fire escape outside of your bathroom window. You just had to get your legs to work before you could carry out your scattered plan.

Using the bed to help you up, you slowly and shakily make your way to your bathroom. You groaned internally as you realized this was the window your landlord had warned you about. It was the one that got stuck and needed force with special angling. You’ve never opened this window so you had no idea how to open it. Your fear overcame your pessimism making you try your best to get the window open.

After time and time again, you couldn’t open the damn thing. Stepping back and taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down. You heard the door bust open making your head snap to the bathroom door that was still ajar. Quickly closing and locking it, you tried prying open the window again.

Someone was looking out for you up there because the window had finally budged, allowing you to crawl out and onto the rusted fire escape. You shut the window closed just in time as you saw your father burst through that door. Flipping him off, you climbed down quickly and into the alleyway. You began to run as fast as you could, already knowing your father was only now exiting the front door of the building.

You ran and ran. Even as your lungs began to burn and your legs aching, you kept running. The bruises and cuts on your face and stomach hurt more than anything at that point. You knew you couldn’t stop until you found somewhere he wouldn’t find you. Where no one would find you.

Then, the old abandoned warehouse where thirteen people mysteriously died came into view. Practically skidding to a stop, you were panting while contemplating if you should go in. Convincing yourself it would only be for the night, you squeeze through the wood that blocked the main door.

The air was no colder than your apartment so the clothes you had on were more than enough. You sat down on the floor next to the door that read ‘office’. The letters were faded and there were small bits of them missing. If you remembered correctly, this factory was almost seventy-five years old. The broken windows and cracked foundation proved as support for your guess.

After catching your breath, you stood up to head into the office. Looking around to see if anything was interesting. As nothing popped out at you, making your way upstairs seemed to be a good idea. That was until you saw him.

The man wasn’t necessarily tall, but he was still taller than you. His back was turned towards you but you could see the terror on the girl’s face that noticed you. Tears were rushing down her features as she winced in pain. Her voice was lost when she tried calling to you for help. Her face paled and her eyes rolled back. The woman’s body dropped to the floor and the man inhaled deeply. You heard the hitch in his breath and you backed away as slowly as you could manage. Unfortunately, glass crunched beneath the heel of your shoe. Without thinking for too long, you turned around and sprinted back down the stairs.

“Fuck no, not doing that shit,” you mumbled to yourself as you tried to exit the factory as fast as you could.

You felt a hand grab the back of your hoodie causing you to fall onto your back with a grunt. Turning over to your side to ease some of the pain in your back, you see a pair of shiny black dress shoes stand in front of you. With the tip of his foot, he pushed onto your shoulder so he could see your face better. His head tilted to the side, causing his hair to show more of his eyes that were glowing. The crimson color almost distracted you from the rest of his face.

His jawline was sharp and tilted up slightly as if he was looking down at you in a more demeaning way. His full lips that were covered in drying blood tugged into a smirk. He hummed as if thinking about what to do next. He planted his foot back down on the concrete floor before crouching down. You had to admit, the murderous man was even more handsome up close but you sadly couldn’t focus on him right now.

Your head began to feel light and fuzzy the more you looked at the man. Closing your eyes maybe wasn’t the best idea, but your head was suddenly submerged in pain. You moved the hand that was gripping the opposite shoulder to your head. It did nothing to take away the pain but there’s not much you could do as a killer stood above you, planning to do who knows what.

“Don’t worry, blood bag. I’m not gonna do anything to you...yet,” you heard his honey-like voice before feeling him wrap his arms around you. “My name’s Jimin, and you’re going to love your new hell.”

⤐ ⤐ ⤐ ⤐

Five months later and you were in, just as he said, hell. You have scars from his fangs all over, fatigue from blood loss, and an appalling adoration for the man who has brought you to his home. What he called home, you called hell. Not only were you used as livestock, but you were tormented by the fact you had fallen for your shepherd.

You hated calling him by his name because you thought it fit him so well and rolled off your tongue like it was meant to. So you called him anything but his name.

He was still locked up in his room like always and you’ve already ventured the enormous house, there was practically nothing to do. You’ve been staring at the wall so often you can no longer sit on the couch, where you’re certain has an ass print from you. Nothing in this mansion intrigued you anymore. Should you maybe...leave the house? You’ve never attempted to leave since you figured he would punish you for it. But how would he know if he’s always in his room or workspace?

You got up from your bed to look into the closet of wonders you’ve never bothered looking through. You just see a comfy set of clothes and go with that since you don’t do anything. Luckily, you found an outfit that matched your style. You didn’t have any money so it would just be a walk around the town, and getting to know exactly which town you were in.

It was a lot easier leaving than you thought was possible with a vampire living there. The house was on an isolated street but you saw old and rusted signs pointing towards the town. It was maybe a twenty-minute walk with you humming and slightly tripping over nothing. It was nice to finally get out of that suffocating house and go for a walk. The air was brisk and made your lungs feel like they were fully inflating.

Once you got to the main road of the city, many people were seen walking. Either by themselves or with children. The day was nice but it seemed there was an event going on. Crowds weren’t your thing so you decided to keep exploring the quaint town.

Walking by bakeries, craft stores, and many other family-owned shops. It was all different to you, having lived in bigger cities your whole life. You were walking by the only bookstore you’ve seen so far and decided to go in. It smelled of old paper and incense. Tall aisles were filled with any genre you could think of and more. You couldn’t remember the last time you were in a bookstore.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” a deep voice broke you from your thoughts as you turned towards the man it came from.

“Oh, no, just looking. Thank you though,” you smile slightly before continuing your way to the back where the sign read ‘Folklore’.

“Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen you around town before. You just move here?” he followed you while asking his question.

“Yeah,” you didn’t feel like talking at this point.

“I figured. Well if you need someone to show you around I’d be more than happy to-”

“Yeong-Jun, go bother somebody else. She’s obviously not interested,” another voice interested the man that was pestering you.

The guy next to you huffed before leaving the store and you looked to see who had said that. He was behind the counter where a register and binders sat.

“I’m sorry about him, he does that all the time,” he smiled gently at you before going back to the small paperback in his hand.

You went back to scanning the spines of the books that sat in front of you, but your eyes kept glancing at the nice man who helped you out. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the two of you could be friends. He seemed nice and he obviously liked books, same as you. But what would you even say to him? Talking first was never your strong suit, or just making friends in general. You never knew what to say so maybe, it’d be best to just leave him alone.

At this point, you didn’t even know why you were taking so long in the store. It’s not like you could buy anything. Sighing, you headed towards the exit before the man at the counter’s voice stopped you.

“Didn’t find anything interesting?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just that I don’t have the money for it.”

“Oh, well...How about you take one anyway?”

“I’m sorry?” you turned back to face him.

“You can take a book of your choosing. Think of it as me lending it to you. For free,” he said through a chuckle after seeing your expression.

“You sure?”

He nodded before motioning at all the rows of books. Swiftly, before he could change his mind, you made your way back to the Fantasy section and grabbed the one you had been eyeing almost the whole time.

You stopped at the counter, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, just bring it back when you’re done and you can borrow another one,” he smiled so wide it made his eyes turn into crescents.

You tried hiding your smile while nodding and exiting the store like a child who had just gotten candy. Books have been your only entertainment ever since he kidnapped you. There was no television to watch, no laptop, or a gaming system. The castle held no form of technology besides electricity for the lighting and sound systems. No matter where you were in the house, you could always hear music. It was beautiful yet sad performed by a group of woodwinds, brass, and many other instruments.

It’s good music to read to. You decided to head back to your hell. Wait...Why...Why would you go back if you were able to walk out the front door, be gone for almost an hour, and walked around town with no questions asked?

You turned around and headed to the church because that was the only place you could think of that would let you stay for free without worrying too much about a creep.

The last thing on your mind now was the thing that was holed up in his room, becoming hungry.

You slowly opened the door to the only church in town that was almost as big as the castle you came from. Not seeing anyone, you fully entered the building with the book in your hand. You tried to walk as quietly as you could but your shoes hitting the polished tiles caused echoing that bounced off the high ceiling walls.

“Hello? Is someone there?” a voice was heard coming from the side. You didn’t respond as you heard footsteps coming closer. “Oh, well hello there. What can I help you with?”

“I-I...I was wondering if I could, um, stay here for the night?” your social skills have suffered tremendously because of the anxiety your family has caused.

“Oh dear child, of course, you can. God’s house is always open to anyone,” he guides you to the other side of the building where he opened a door showing a long hallway.

As you walked down the large corridor, you noticed all the doors you passed by. Some were closed and some were opened. The opened ones revealed empty rooms with a bed and nightstand. You assumed the closed doors were occupied rooms.

“Many people stay here, all for their own reasons. We have a dining hall just around the corner, baths are just past that, and you are always welcome to join sermons,” he stopped in front of a room that was at the very end of the hall. “If you need anything, we have many sisters throughout the church that will be happy to help.”

“Thank you,” you slightly bowed before entering the room.

“Of course,” he closed the door and walked to a random spot in the corridor. He placed his hand on the wall while whispering a murmur in Latin. A door opened and he entered.

He descended the spiral case of marble stairs before coming to another door. This door had carvings of so many symbols, you couldn’t count. He touched a particular one causing the door to creak open.

“You all felt it as I did,” he spoke loudly before he sat down in his designated chair.

“You wouldn’t be able to,” another pastor said sarcastically.

“Will he come?” asked a nun.

“I do not know,” sighed the pastor who showed you to your room.

“Will you protect the girl, Claude?” asked a woman who sat in the middle of the table.

“Yes.”

✨

You had fallen asleep almost seven hours ago, according to the clock that hung on the wall opposite of the bed you laid in. That was the most sleep you have gotten in about two years. Insomnia was a bitch you knew all too well. Being able to sleep for so long made you full of this energy you haven’t experienced in so long. A knock was heard at your door before a nun poked her head in.

“It’s time for supper,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” she closed the door after slightly nodding to your response.

You sighed before looking out of the window that was close to the ceiling. You slept and found a place to stay but now what? You couldn’t live here so close to him. Yes, you loved him but it was unrequited and you knew it. It’s not like you could help it. In the little time you’ve spent with him, that didn’t involve your blood, he was kind and his smile gave you a serotonin boost. The way he was gentle with the plants he had and how he disagreed with the disgusting morals of characters from a different era. All of these things made you grow feelings for the undead immortal. Maybe it was because you’ve never encountered such a personality. But who knew?

You climbed out of the bed and headed to the dining hall with the book in your hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a meal that wasn’t frozen or from a restaurant. You never felt like cooking even though you knew how, you just never felt like it.

The volunteers were kind as they offered you everything they had. Sticking with only the bread and stew they made, you sat down at an empty table while beginning to read the book you picked out from the store. The front and spine read Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by April Genevieve Tucholke.

Someone had sat next to you making you look at them in the corner of your eye. It was the priest from yesterday. He had a plate of his own filled with stew, bread, and rice.

“I hope I am not disturbing you,” he motioned towards the open book in front of you.

“Oh, uh, no. It’s fine,” you nodded making him smile softly.

“What brings you here?” he asked while respectfully eating his bread.

You had to think carefully about what you wanted to say. You couldn’t just tell him that a vampire had kidnapped you, but didn’t care enough to keep an eye on you.

“I ran away from home.”

“Why is that my child?”

“My father- he uh…he would hit me...a lot, so one day I ran away,” it wasn’t a complete lie. That is what had happened at the beginning of all of this. However, your town was most likely miles and miles away.

“I am sorry, my child. Do you still, um, have bruises or anything?” he was hesitant in the way he spoke hoping he wouldn’t upset you.

You nodded causing him to sigh. Some people were truly out of God’s reach and your father needed to be punished for abusing as he had.

“Where are you from?” he asked looking back at you.

“Seoul.”

“Seoul? My, that’s ways away from here. How did you get to Busan?” he was shocked by how far you have traveled and was curious how you managed to get down here. Of course, he knew how you got there but he wanted to know if you trust him or not. By how long it took you to answer, it was obvious you didn’t trust easily.

“Many many buses,” you lied through your teeth, to a priest no less. Good thing you lost faith a long long time ago.

“I see,” bells rang in the distance signifying everyone that supper time was over and it was time to either go to your room or do chores. “We’ll get you started on chores tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded once again before standing up and taking care of your tray before heading back to your temporary room. Started on chores?? How long does he think you’re staying here? Now that you know what city you’re in, it will be much easier to get back to Seoul. You just had to find a way to get back and then figure out where you were going to stay. Your mind went to the book in your hand

You laid down so the growing headache could maybe stop from spreading from your frontal lobe to the cortex. Setting your book on the table beside you, sleep was your best choice at the moment.

Candy apple eyes stared down at the pathetic looking ‘House of God’. The eyes held hatred and disgust for the building and the oh so holy salvation that occupied it. The man’s features turned sour thinking about all the bothersome puppets that have tried to kill him, more often than not.

He wasn’t here for them, no-no. He was here for you of course. At first, he didn’t even realize you had escaped. Your scent was covering every inch of his mansion so it took maybe a whole day before he realized you were gone. The vampire was in his office so he wouldn’t bite you so much. Whenever he drank your delicious blood, he felt it course through his veins, he felt the warmth he once did when he was alive, he felt. And that terrified him. He was scared of the feeling, but he didn’t want to lose it. So he spent hours and hours researching from the very scripts his ancestors and others wrote, trying to find a way to keep you forever.

Now he’s sitting there thinking, how fucking stupid could he have been to let you leave like that. All the doors had normal locks so it wouldn’t take much brainpower to figure them out. If he didn’t get you back before another creature claimed you, it would be over. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Because you were different. He knew that. Your smell, your taste, and your personality. All of it was so entrancing and he let it slip away just like that. Maybe he was just being dramatic, but what vampire isn’t? Maybe it was a good thing you escaped. How else could he hunt for such scrumptious prey? He loved to hunt before he fed but that usually ended with his prey dying. This time, he was going to keep you. Not only for your blood but also for you. The sarcastic remarks you made had made him laugh, your smile made his unmoving heart skip, your eyes told a story that only you knew. Yeah, he wasn’t going to let you go.

The priest who had welcomed you had once again descended the marble stairs into the secret hideaway. Once the nun saw him approach she spoke loudly, “He’s already here and you’re playing tea party with the girl.”

“No need for malice, sister,” the priest sat down in his usual chair and placed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He knew he was here. Years of training his perception had been fruitful.

“I wouldn’t need to be malicious if you would just do your job!” her voice reverberated against the walls and back to them.

The woman sitting at the head of the table cleared her throat before addressing the nun who had gotten out of line, “Do not point fingers, let alone yell in the House of God, sister.”

The nun sat back in her seat while crossing her arms. She had never encountered a vampire before and she wasn’t trying to now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Exhaling, she stiffened. She felt powerful energy that she wasn’t able to identify.

“Hello~” Jimin stood not too far away from the table but far enough to where no one could touch him before he could move. “Let’s negotiate.”

↬ ↬ ↬

It’s been a week since you’ve arrived at the church. You haven’t seen the pastor since that awkward dinner in the hall. Maybe he realized you couldn’t be helped and decided to move onto the next person. Who would help you right? You’re just a nobody who has parents that hate you. That’s normal...it’s all you’ve ever known. You sighed as you hung up the last piece of clothing on one of the lines. Not wanting to spend all day at the church again, you decided to take the book you finished back to the store. Hopefully, the nice employee was working today.

You went back to your temporary room to grab the book before you made your way to the exit of the building. On your way to the exit, it seemed like all the nuns and pastors you’ve passed we’re trying to distract you. First, a nun had asked for help with cleaning the rooftops, which sounded like a pointless job that would take all day. So you politely declined but when she insisted you told her you can help after you take the book back to the store. Then, a pastor had asked how you’ve been feeling and if you’re comfortable in your room. Saying yes to both and walking at the same time, you were able to get out of that conversation fairly quickly. And as you placed your hand on the door, two more nuns were asking you questions about you and where were going. Thankfully, another nun held their attention while you slipped through the crack in the doors.

You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the bookstore. It felt nice to get out of there, at least for a little while. The weather seemed windy today and the clouds were slowly becoming a dark grey. Hopefully, a storm will come by. That’s always when you slept the best no matter where you slept. You were never able to sleep well, but on nights where you could hear thunder and see flashes of lightning, it lulled you to sleep, unlike any stories or songs.

Your mind suddenly went to him. Does he like storms? You stopped walking for a second, realizing your mistake. How could you think of him like that? Your cheeks get warm before you start walking again to try and forget about him and focus on getting another book.

Who cares if he likes storms? Certainly not you, he means nothing to you...do you mean nothing to him? You sighed as you weren't able to stop wondering about the handsome man that captured you months ago. It kind of made you sad that he hasn't come to find you yet. Your thoughts had you passing the bookstore before the employee from before calls out to you, “Hey!”

You snapped your head up and looked around before your eyes landed on the person who called out to you. Looking around again, you realized you had walked by the store without noticing. Your cheeks turned red before you made your back to the store where the worker waited for you with a smile.

“I think I have one you might like,” he motioned for you to follow him to the desk. He told you to set the book in your hands on the cart to the right and slid a different one on the desk.

It read Between the Spark and the Burn, the sequel to the book you had just returned. “I didn't see this the last time I was here,” you carefully picked up the book and held it in your hand by your side.

“I noticed the book you chose so I requested it from the next town over for when you finished the first one,” he sat down on the wooden stool that was rickety and old.

“Thank you,” you said quietly while keeping your gaze anywhere but him.

It’s been a while since someone did something nice for you. You're usually the one doing things for other people. You could see him smiling in the corner of your, making you realize that you were also smiling. Your cheeks were beginning to hurt so you decided to introduce yourself, “My name’s Y/n.” Hopefully, that was the right way to begin this conversation.

“Taehyung, a pleasure,” his smile grew before he covered it with his hand.

You nodded before reluctantly walking towards the door. Just as it closed behind you Taehyung was met with somebody standing next to him. He casually looked to see who it was only to find his best friend.

“Jimin~ it's been so long since you visited!” he stood up to give Jimin a hug and Jimin reciprocated. “What brings you here?”

“Turns out, you were just flirting with the girl I was talking about,” Jimin sighed as he straightened his posture to not look as short compared to his friend.

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot and pointed his thumb towards the door where you just exited. Jimin nodded before pinning him to the wall, “And you're gonna help me get her back.”

⤐ ⤐ ⤐

“Y/n!” your name echoed throughout the spacious corridor. You turned around to see the priest waving to you while jogging to catch up to you.

...you don't remember ever telling him your name. You began to panic so you quickly made your way outside and into the garden to hide behind the large rose bushes.

You heard him calling for you but stayed behind the bushes and went deeper into the rows and rows of red and white roses. You let out a sigh before sitting on the ground more comfortably.

“Blood bag, how come you haven't come home yet?”

Your whole body stiffened, but surprisingly relaxed. But now wasn't the time to question your muscles. You looked up to see the man who you thought you wouldn't have to see again.

“I've missed you, ya know,” he crouched down so his piercing eyes could be level with yours. It reminded you of the first time you met, back in the warehouse.

You remained quiet and averted your gaze to a wilting rose at the bush behind him. What were you supposed to say to him anyway? Did you miss him too? Of course, you did, he has given you more attention than anyone in your life. Up until you had spoken to Taehyung a couple of days ago.

“Blood Bag, it’s rude to ignore me,” he cupped your face with his hands decorated with silver rings.

“You ignored me for days at a time but that doesn’t matter, does it?” your anger got the best of you, making you regret even opening your mouth. You watched as his eyes widened slightly before he smirked.

“It does matter because I was doing something very important in that office.”

“Of course, what would be more important than using me as food whenever you felt like it.”

You saw his eyebrow twitch at your smartass comment. You didn’t know what had gotten over you at that time. You were usually the pushover but it seems that something about this vampire made you want to talk back. Maybe it was the smirk on his ethereal features or maybe it was just you trying to deny your feelings for him.

“I’m gonna let that slide since there’s something else I need to talk to you about,” you stood up before you had to hear any more of this unnecessary conversation. Before you were able to take a step, you were brought back to the ground. Your back hit the hard dirt making you wince. Jimin sat on your waist with each knee on either side of you. “You have recently met a very good friend of mine without even noticing what he was. I’m afraid he wants to take you as his. So I was nice enough to come here and warn you about him. But it seems you don’t want my protection…”

He trailed off waiting for you to start begging for him to help you but it never came. His smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed. Why were you not groveling? Were you not afraid? That’s not it, he can smell the delicious fear coming off of you.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m leaving by the end of next week,” you lied hoping he wouldn’t catch it.

Jimin stared at you for a second before getting off of you. But not before giving you a quick peck to the lips. Your face burned as you looked up at the grinning blood-sucker of a man. It most definitely gave Jimin an ego boost to see you so affected by his action.

“See you later, Blood Bag,” he waved before disappearing around the corner. What you didn’t see is that Jimin had to stop after turning the corner. He held his hand over the left side of his chest. It hurt. His chest was in pain. Like his heart was beating once again. The cold skin of his cheeks flushed while he felt like his lungs were actually working. If this was what it felt like just to kiss you, imagine what it would feel like to...Jimin had to stop himself. No need to let his mind go too far until you’ve fallen for him. And he was confident you would.

You finally willed your legs to get up and move to hurry to your room. You stopped when you passed an opening leading to the street in front of the church. You didn’t want to give Jimin or the priest time to find you again, so you made your way back to the bookstore.

When you got there you opened the door and your eyes instantly landed on Taehyung...and his bruised cheek above a busted lip. You stopped in your tracks making Taehyung look at you.

“Done with the book already?” a smile stretched across his face making him mumble ‘ow’.

“What happened to you?”

“Just a little friendly brawl.”

“In fifteen minutes?”

“Lots can happen in fifteen minutes.”

You shook your read to get your thoughts focused, “I came here to ask you if there was a bus or a train that left the town today.”

“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure the next train outta here isn’t for another two days,” Taehyung lied without hesitation. The next train left today in thirty minutes and wouldn’t be back until next week. He didn’t want another beating from Jimin.

“Oh, well thanks. I’ll have the book back by then,” you nodded before heading back to the church. What were you supposed to do for the next two days?

Once you made it back to the church you headed straight to your room to find the priest sitting in the wooden chair. He told you to have a seat on your bed after you closed the door.

He cleared his throat, “So you obviously seem uncomfortable around me and I apologize for whatever I have done to make you feel that way.”

Your eyes were on the book in your hand before you quietly replied, “I just never remembered telling you my name so I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I should’ve been more careful,” he saw your confused expression before continuing. “I am no ordinary priest. I am a...protector of sorts. I protect people from supernatural creatures of all kinds.”

Your eyes looked into his, and his were telling you he knew about the vampire that had kept in his home. Of course, he knew, this made you breathe out a laugh, “So you know about him.”

“I do.”

“You know, I was able to walk out the front door of his house like it was nothing,” Claude’s eyebrows raised in shock. You nodded, “He was so deeply in his work while in his office, I was able to walk out of there. But now he knows I’m here and I need to find a way out of here.”

“I can help with that. The train that transports out of town leaves in twenty minutes. I can get you there along with a ticket straight back home. If that is what you wish.”

It only took you a few seconds to register his offer and you quickly nodded and followed him out the door. All while leaving the book from Taehyung on the bed.

“What’s your name?” you asked while trying to keep up with the man that has been trying to help you for the past week and a half.

“Claude.”

He looked around the corridor before muttering the Latin mantra for the hidden door to open. Claude had to come back up a few stairs to grab your wrist to lead you down the stairs. You had unknowingly frozen in place after seeing the wall slide open to a set of stairs.

“Do all churches have a basement like this?”

“Not all, we’re one of the few that do.”

“So cool,” you whispered as you skimmed all the symbols and words that were engraved into the walls.

“There’s a tunnel that leads straight to the station. We don’t want you to miss the train, the next one won’t be here for another week,” Claude explained all while hurriedly walking down the tunnel.

You didn’t want to think about how Taehyung lied to you and how you didn’t realize that he was the friend Jimin was referring to. Just then, passed the room where you could see people sitting around a large dark wood table.

“Are we not going to talk about how you guys have a literal l a i r down here?”

“Nope.”

“Alrighty.”

Claude had led you up a flight of stairs that lead to the back of a building. You couldn’t tell what kind it was until the two of you walked up the side to the front. The large sign read Train Station. There were many benches set out but only two other people were waiting to get on the train. Claude had just realized he still had a grip on your hand but luckily you didn’t seem to mind as you read all the signs telling you the train’s schedule.

Claude paid for your ticket to Seoul before having you sit down on a bench close to the entrance gate. He looked around to make sure Jimin was nowhere in sight. Then he would glance back at you to make sure you were still there. The loud whistle of the train made it to your ears before you stood up and watched as it slowed to a stop.

“I have nowhere to stay up there,” you paused in front of the bench and started at the open door showing a few metal stairs.

“You do,” he brought a piece of paper from his pants pocket and gently set it in your hand. He nodded towards the train, motioning for you to get on before it leaves.

You thank him before boarding the locomotive and taking a seat in the designated section. Your seat was on the side of the station. Looking out to see Claude waving and smiling at you through the window. No one else was around him, nobody had gotten off and the few people that were waiting were already boarded. You waved back before your blood ran cold.

Claude’s neck was snapped right before your very eyes. His now lifeless body fell to the ground, in what felt like slow motion. The one person that had been helping you from the kindness of his heart, lied on the floor, dead.

Through your teary eyes, you saw it was Taehyung. His face showed no emotion, not even as he stared into your sorrowful eyes. As you went to stand, the train began to move and when you looked back to where Taehyung was standing, he was gone.

🩸🩸🩸

You rushed off of the train and hurriedly went to find whatever stood at the address Claude had given to you. Your head constantly went from side to side, causing a headache to form. But you didn't want the pounding of your brain against your skull to be the reason you were caught.

Finally, you ended up at the place where you met Jimin. The warehouse still appeared worn down and abandoned. Nothing had changed since you last saw it, except for the door. The door used to be blocked by wooden planks but now, it was a sleek and elegant carved piece of wood. There laid a door knocker that looked to be recently polished, in the shape of a cross.

You hesitated in reaching for the knocker and just as your fingers touched the cool metal, Taehyung interrupted. You spun around to see him even more beaten than the time before. When you went to knock again the door was gone, and the old wooden beams replaced them. You froze, that was going to be where Claude promised safety. Now you met with the thing that killed him. The thing you had considered your friend for only a short period of time.

“I didn't wanna hurt you like this, ya know. I really did want to be friends with you, and maybe even one day be more than that. Because you seem like a great person and-” he stopped talking once he noticed you had slipped through the wood and into the building. He sighed before following you in.

You wondered if there was even a point in trying to hide from him. He obviously wasn't human so he could track you down in seconds. Yet, you still went to hide in the room where you saw Jimin feeding on that stranger. And after months, her body was still there. Rotting and decaying. You gagged before exiting the room quickly.

Taehyung was right there, causing you to run into him. He held you close as you tried to pull away. He rolled his eyes as you struggled, irritated you wouldn't listen to his practiced speech all while running away. It was clear Jimin had no issue throwing punches towards his friend. Even though they were the same age physically, Jimin had been alive for much longer than he had.

You attempted to pull all your weight back as Taehyung dragged you down the stairs and to the entrance. Suddenly, you went flying back onto your ass as Taehyung’s grip left your arm. Your gaze landed on Jimin wrestling with Taehyung on the concrete floor. You looked around to find another door but there wasn't one that you could see. You didn't want to wander the building and get lost, but you also didn't want to wait for the two supernatural beings to be done with their fight.

You let out a shaky breath after realizing you're going to have to sneak past and get to the entrance. Your legs trembled as you slowly made your way around the two that were yelling at each other. Threats and fists, along with knees, we're thrown back and forth. When you got to the entrance you heard a sickening thud. It wasn't someone falling on the ground or one being thrown. No, the thud had an underlying crack to it. Turning around, you saw dark crimson ooze from Taehyung’s skull.

He was face down, making the sight easier for you to stomach. If you were able to see the look on his face and the emptiness of his eyes, you wouldn't be able to sleep again.

Jimin picked you up by your biceps, making sure you were as close to him as possible. He rested his forehead against yours. He bit his and leaned in for a kiss. Jimin kissed you over and over again until every inch of your face had met the touch of his pillowy lips. lip

“So tell me, Blood Bag, are you ready to spend an eternity with me?”

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 01132: Crosshair

Kix shifted impatiently as he watched the small fleet of ships - smaller than it had been when it left the Republic base - drift gently into the hangar bay. He had gotten a notification from General Kenobi to be on-call. The situation on Anaxes had been resolved with only minor casualties, but it never hurt to be prepared.

When the ships settled to rest on the ground, several men around Kix grumbled that it was a good thing the Bad Batch hadn't been flying. Apparently, they had already earned a reputation for landing with more speed than skill. Their last landing had nearly caused what would have been the single largest loss of Republic troops since Geonosis.

The men began exiting the LAAT/i closest to Kix and he found himself looking at Echo. Kix had thoroughly examined his presumed-dead brother when he returned from Skako Minor. The trooper had been in bad shape, but Kix had to admit that the cybernetic work the Separatists had done was top-notch. Other than malnourishment and some overloaded circuitry - most likely damaged during the rescue - Echo had been in surprisingly good health.

Still, Echo's face was pale and angular, cheekbones jutting out in a way that seemed almost painful. He walked slowly, carefully… It always seemed as though he were waiting for something to take his legs out from under him.

Even as Kix watched, Echo stumbled and was supported by Rex, who had thrown out an arm immediately to catch him.

Kix rushed forward, ignoring the dust thrown into the air by the other LAAT/i ships landing nearby. "What happened?" he asked immediately.

Echo glanced up at him, his light brown eyes looking even lighter in his sallow face, and simply shook his head. Kix's heart sank and he looked sharply to the captain.

"Echo plugged into the Seppie's system and sent them the wrong battle plans before putting a surge through to disable their clankers," Rex explained heavily. "It worked perfectly, but they isolated the signal and sent a surge back. It gave him a pretty good shock."

Kix grimaced. "Let's get you to the hangar medbay, Echo. I'll need to do a full diagnostic check."

"Aw, leave him alone," Wrecker grumbled from behind them. "He's awake now, isn't he?"

"It knocked you unconscious?" Kix asked immediately.

"Yeah," Echo admitted lowly.

After making sure that Rex had a good hold on his injured brother, Kix turned to look at the Bad Batch. "Unconsciousness is always something to worry about. I'll need to do a full scan to make sure everything is okay. The three of you should come in for checks as well."

"Er… don't you mean four?" Hunter asked slowly, staring around at the other men of Clone Force 99.

"No, I don't. Three of you have a choice, but I see Crosshair's injury no matter how well he thinks he's hiding it. Follow us to the medbay, trooper."

"I'll be fine," Crosshair snarked.

"That's the spirit," Kix encouraged, even as he turned his attention back to helping Echo. "I'm an excellent medic and I can treat whatever injury you sustained. You certainly will be fine."

"I get the sense that you didn't make any friends there, Kix," Rex warned lowly, following Kix into the building.

"I'm a medic, sir," Kix reminded. "My business is caring for the men's health, not being their favorite person."

As they walked toward the hangar, Kix could hear a soft argument break out between Hunter and Crosshair, but Rex, Echo, and Kix had only just stepped into the medbay when the sniper slouched in behind them.

Scanning them was a moment's work. Rex was in perfect health other than a touch of fatigue and was immediately discharged from the medbay. Echo's nervous system showed signs of stress and there were minor burns on the segment of his arm that was connected to the data probe that had received the shock. Kix bandaged the burns and administered a mild set of pain meds before settling him into a bed. Finally, he moved his attention to Crosshair.

The serious trooper hadn't removed a single piece of his armor, but Kix didn't bother asking. Instead, he turned the power up on the scanner and scanned Crosshair's body from head to feet and back up. He ran the scanner carefully over the sniper's right elbow, where he had first seen the signs of an injury.

"You have a blaster wound piercing your anconeus muscle," Kix revealed.

"And here I thought I was just outgrowing my armor," Crosshair said dryly.

Kix surveyed the sniper without commenting, but he knew the message came through clearly enough: Crosshair had a slight build for a trooper. The idea of him outgrowing his armor in any capacity was laughable.

As Crosshair watched Kix's unspoken insult, his jaw tightened until Kix worried he would have to pull the splinters of the brother's toothpick from his mouth. To stop the unnecessary theatrics, Kix said, "As a sniper, you know that your anconeus is pretty important to the shooting process. Are you going to let me treat it?"

Crosshair blinked in surprise, but tried to hide the reaction. "Are you saying you're gonna give me a choice?"

"I don't like forcing my brothers into treatment," Kix said evasively.

Seeming to realize that it wasn't an answer, Crosshair narrowed his eyes, but gave a single nod.

"Good," Kix said. "Remove your shoulder armor and both sets of arm plates, then sit down. I'll be back with the necessary supplies."

It took a little bit longer to find what he needed in the unfamiliar medbay, but Kix managed, passing by a now-sleeping Echo to get to where Crosshair waited in uncomfortable silence.

In the time it took Kix to cleanse the wound, use an internal variation of bacta gel, and start applying bacta patches to the entry and exit points of the injury, Crosshair still hadn't spoken. Working as closely as he was, Kix could feel the tension radiating from the trooper.

"I'm almost done here, then I'll issue you some pain meds and we'll get you settled in for the night," he said, more to break the silence than anything else.

Crosshair snorted. "I'm not staying here tonight."

"You certainly are," Kix replied blandly. "I'll need to observe your wound to make sure it's healing properly. Don't think I didn't notice the elevated pulse and blood pressure, either. I have to be certain that's normal."

"We don't like medical centers... or medics," Crosshair said gruffly.

"I'm sorry, but the regulations are cle-" he cut himself off as Crosshair made a rude noise. He didn't know much about the Bad Batch, but most of the troopers hadn't enjoyed their time in medbays on Kamino, and Kix was no fool. There was probably a very good reason for Crosshair's venom.

With that in mind, Kix dropped his professionalism down a notch in order to level with the trooper: "Listen, I can't let you leave knowing that something could go wrong and you could lose the arm or die because I wasn't there to notice when things started going south. You'll stay here tonight with Echo. Spend the time cursing my name if it makes you feel better, as long as you're doing it here."

Crosshair snarled and opened his mouth to say something Kix was sure would be rude, but he was interrupted by the medbay doors opening. Hunter stepped through, followed by Tech and the hulking Wrecker.

"Gentlemen," Kix greeted politely, gathering the medical flotsam that tended to collect when an injury was being treated.

"Kix," Hunter returned. "We thought about your offer and we're here for scans."

"Good. Give me just a moment and I'll get the three of you scanned," Kix said, shooting Crosshair a firm look. "Pick a bed, trooper."

After disposing of the mess, Kix scanned the three remaining members of Clone Force 99, finding nothing worse than light fatigue, mild dehydration, and a single pulled muscle in Hunter's leg. True to Crosshair's word, all of them showed signs of stress and tension, likely from being in the medbay. Kix ignored that and focused on the treatable things.

He administered a pain patch for the pulled muscle and advised all of them to drink some water and get a good night of sleep.

"There is no need to pull watch duty while you're on-planet," Kix told them. "The regular troopers stationed here have a rotational system, so there's always a guard monitoring the perimeter. All of you should sleep as long as possible."

"Do you need us to stay here tonight?" Wrecker asked, glancing around uncertainly.

"It could be a medical necessity," Tech volunteered, watching Crosshair even as the tattooed trooper avoided his eyes.

Kix had a refusal ready to go, but paused at the last moment. "We don't like medical centers… or medics," Crosshair had said. If the others were volunteering to stay, it could be that they didn't want to leave their teammate here alone.

"Hmm… I think it would be for the best," Kix lied. "I need to monitor your fluid intake and I can make sure no one disturbs you while you rest. Best settle in for the night, vode."

Tech and Wrecker moved toward the beds, settling into ones on either side of the wounded troopers. Tech was rattling off factoids about bacterial growth all the while and Wrecker was crowing about winning some kind of bet against Crosshair.

Before he left the area, Kix caught sight of Hunter. The sergeant gave a deep nod of thanks - a gesture Kix returned before moving to the small desk at the front of the medbay, ready to keep watch as long as his brothers needed if it meant they felt safe enough to rest and heal.

---

A/N - sorry this is coming so late! Thank you for reading!

🧁 BadBoyHalo reborn as a demon antagonist AU 🧁

This AU is part of the DSMP Reborn as a “villain” AU multiverse, the link shows the masterpost which explains the AUs & has the index for more AUs that I posted.

If an AU has no link attached, it's coming soon.

Holy crap I went hard for the angst on this one.

CWs for:

Non-consensual body modification (cause of the Egg), Parasites (because Egg), Loss of a limb (Not Egg's fault surprisingly), & Derealization in a paragraph

Let me know if I need to add any other CW or anything else.

--------------------

As a child Bad wakes up 1 day to learn that in his 1st life, he played a video game/read 2 novels where his current life, became 1 of the Demon Lords who willingly worshipped/was possessed by the Egg & worked for it. In fact OG him is the Egg's future 2nd in command & poses as the leader of the empire dedicated to it, & he was killed/defeated late in the story.

(Up to you if it's a game or novel, w/ a game maybe there's multiple routes/choices meaning multiple endings while w/ a novel, in canon the Demon Lords were all killed while in a spin-off they were just defeated not killed or maybe it's the other way around w/ the novels, or maybe it's a single novel w/ a mix of some Demon Lords dying while some survive.)

It was pretty ambiguous if some of the Demon Lords were wholy possessed or willingly worshiped the Egg w/o possession, or a mixture of the 2.

(If we want to we can have this world be the same world where Techno is reincarnated as Billiam, because then they could discover they're in the same boat & bond over it but I'm making those worlds/time periods seperate for this post.)

The Demon Lords & the Egg formed the Eggpire. 1 by 1 in the story they are killed/defeated by Puffy, Sam, &/or Technoblade, the protagonists. If the Demon Lords weren't killed they were defeated at a terrible cost for themselves & others.

Bad won't accept being a villain, or being killed or worshipping/being possessed by the Egg.

The good thing is that he remembered this before the Egg has enough power to get him & the other future Demon Lords under it, so he has time to plan. Actually Bad has a few decades to prepare!

On the off chance that the Egg possessed the lords, he wants to find the future Demon Lords & other major charaters so as to prevent that.

In the original story, Puffy & Sam are demons who betray the Eggpire which they help found early after it's formation due to realizing the Egg is bad. They flee, & later form 'Pro-Omelette' in opposition of it, w/ Technoblade joining their cause at some point in the story after OG Bad & the Egg fails to recruit him.

Unfortunatly, while fleeing, Puffy & Sam fail to do some things/do some things which they regret then & in the future that also has major consequences as they feared.

Another close ally is Hannah, a dryad/nymph who aids them w/ her powers. At some point the Eggpire captures her meaning she has to be saved & after that as the story progresses Sam, Puffy & maybe even Technoblade if he's also a demon starts feeling a strange kinship & repulsion towards & against her.

There's also the starborne mercenary Purpled who isn't willing to work w/ the Eggpire due to them taking his big sibling figure.

(Starborne means the starborne origins from the Origins mods for Minecraft).

Everyone has their own motifs, Puffy the sheep demon pirate has pirate & sheep motifs. Sam the creeper demon redstoner has a redstone motif. Techno has a pig motif. Purpled's motifs are stars, galaxy patterns & just anything to do w/ space.

Ponk, the chicken demon w/ a lemon (tree) & chicken motif is Sam's ex who was heartbroken by his sudden disappearance. He joined the very Eggpire Sam betrayed & had his heartbreak used to harden his resolve for the Egg's desires.

He is the 1st Demon Lord to be killed/defeated. If defeated he's turned against the Egg w/ the power of love leading to Sam & Ponk making up, maybe they never go back to dating or Ponk's ability to love was taken away by the Egg after he goes against it.

Maybe early in the fight Sam is holding back his emotions, cuts of Ponk's arm which leads to Ponk's reaction snapping Sam out of it & then Sam has to convince Ponk he geniunely loves him & regrets leaving him the rest of the fight, just angst.

(Sam saving Ponk from the Eggpire w/ the power of love only for Ponk losing the ability to love after betraying the Eggpire, oh yeah the angst).

If Ponk is killed, well Sam is extra vulnerable to the Egg's influence & risks getting brainwashes by it while carries the guilt of killing his lover w/o reconciling.

Maybe Ponk isn't killed but Sam's tunnel vision to defeat him causes Ponk to die of broken heart syndrome (maybe induced by the Egg?) oof & Sam regrets not contacting Ponk after escaping the Eggpire & forming Pro-Omelette & is extra vulnerable to the Egg.

Also there's these these flowers called Carnations that have different meanings depending on color, maybe the 2 have a shared magical carnation flower that Sam ends up taking w/ him while fleeing from the Egg, so the dark red flower (love & affection) becomes almost fully yellow (disapointment & rejection) which makes Sam truly realize the extent of what he's done by leaving Ponk w/o like a note on what's going on.

Maybe to Sam's horror the flower sometimes flashes to being striped (regret love can't be shared) before going back to being yellow w/ a tiny bit of dark red some where.

During the battle, if Sam manages to convince Ponk to defect from the Egg, the flower flashes fully dark red but then the Egg take Ponk's ability to love. This takes away Ponk's connection to the flower making it half dead & the flower permanently is striped.

If we go the route of Ponk's death, the flower doesn't flash dark red at all, it goes from yellow to striped when Ponk dies, disconnecting his magic to the flower making the flower half dead.

Punz is next to go, they are a human mercenary turned into a demon after joining the Eggpire be it because of possession or there being promising gains of wealth from joining the Eggpire. He has a wealth motif.

Since Punz was turned by the Egg, he has Blood Vine's for horns & said vines for a tail.

Punz fights his own brother & talks about how the money is worth more than Purpled, how they don't love Purpled, etc., which Purpled refuses to believe is true.

Punz either dies (meaning a grieving Purpled for the rest of the story vulnerable to the Egg) or ends up in a coma (extra angsty if Purpled thinks he it himself).

Purpled is scared for his big sibling's health, will they be okay when the Egg dies? Well, after the Egg's defeat Punz wakes up some point afterwards but his health is awful, said awful health will last a long time & they can never do mercenary work again, both he & Purpled are distraught by this.

Punz's demon features are especially sickly & act like a parasite for a while before just dying. Punz basically didn't/couldn't have his connection to the Egg & his new demonhood removed, now he's here w/ maybe chronic fatigue because the Egg seriously fucks people over even in death.

Skeppy, a blue-turned-red diamond golem-turned-demon, goes down after Punz's defeat. Skeppy has a gem motif, & in the past made a purely proffesional deal w/ OG Bad, while OG Bad would forfeit his immortality to make Skeppy harder for death to claim, & as a result became a demon, Skeppy would provide OG Bad w/, let's say 1/2 of the gems & riches he owned.

Remember that if Skeppy dies, Bad dies but Bad can't die w/o Skeppy dying 1st.

Skeppy basically helps fund the Eggpire. When the Egg decides to give Skeppy some demon stuff itself, Skeppy not only is made of red diamonds now, but his body is cracked if not before & there are roots & flowers sticking out of said cracks.

Skeppy joins the Eggpire because of possession &/or promises of an even longer life through a connection w/ 2 demons.

After his defeat, the Eggpire is more desperate than ever due to losing a big funder, putting effort into getting Skeppy back. The vines also act parasitic after the Egg's fall before dying but not w/o Skeppy's mind & body being damaged by the vines.

If Skeppy is killed then OG Bad's connection to the Egg is the only thing keeping him alive if barely meaning Bad's easier to kill & the Eggpire more desperate than in the route Skeppy lives.

Antfrost, the demon w/ a cat, ant & ice motifs, the '2nd in command' of the Eggpire to the everyone. Only alone w/ the Egg & OG Bad is he called the 3rd in command since that's what he truly was.

If Ant is killed/defeated, OG Bad has to deal w/ getting a new “2nd” in command, this time keeping her in the shadows so as to keep her from being taken on by Pro-Omelette. Security is tightened as much as it can be.

The Eggpire becomes even more stressed if Ant is defeated & is w/ Pro-Omelette 1 way or another because Ant knows a lot of stuff they'd rather never get out.

If Ant's defeated & a prisoner of the protagonists, maybe they get some info from him but soon he is released by a traitor but as he escapes he winds up stranded somewhere in a place that won't be kind to him unaware of how to get back to the Eggpire. Perhaps for the rest of the story.

At this point Pro-Omelette also tighten security since they have a traitor in their ranks.

Althought Hannah is acting suspicious, she isn't like vanishing at random times or acting that off so they can't exactly suspect her. She's got sick this once & has been pretty unwell but who can blame her? So many of her flowers got destroyed & leeched off of in Ant's escape.

The demons of Pro-Omelette are feeling a strange repulsion against her but also a strange kinship towards her.

If Skeppy is dead, Bad when being confronted by the enemy instantly is sapped of all his power & life left since the Egg realizes it's about to loose him. Or his connection to the Egg is severed by Pro-Omellete before it can happen leading to him naturally dying.

If Skeppy isn't dead however, Bad is captured but not w/o the Egg taking all the power it can from him severely weakening him on a level of power & health.

OG Bad was a very powerful demon & so if Skeppy lives, the Egg gets a major power boost before his capture, but in the route of Skeppy's death, the Egg doesn't get that much since it had to keep Bad from dying.

After Bad is down, Hannah goes missing again & there are 2 groups, 1 to find Hannah & the other to take down the Egg once & for all.

Either 1 or both groups find the Egg & to their horror they find out since Hannah's 1st capture the Egg brainwashed her, has been leaching off of her & replaced the flowers she wears w/ it's vines.

The Egg holds Hannah's life over them. If the Egg took the power of OG Bad in the route Skeppy lives it's much for difficult to try & defeat the Egg & save Hannah.

Also the Egg turned Hannah into a demon that has the power to grow vines & flowers. She's powerful but even more if Skeppy lives.

Egged!Hannah does a number on Pro-Omelette. She goes as far as to maim, kill controlling the vines & worm parasitic plants in people. The Egg has these powers too.

There are 4 directions at this point.

     Pro-Omelette succesfully kills the Egg while getting Hannah out of it's grasp in the process, of course there's the parasitic plants & other damage done to the protagonists' side as well as Hannah who's health is super fucked liked many in the final battle (it's kinda like what happens to Punz if he lives).      Like Hannah who was turned into some egg-demon who's egg-demon parts act like parasites & others w/ the parasitic plants in them have to deal w/ the plants till said parasites die & even then there's the stuff to deal /w the parasites deaths.

     Hannah is killed by the Egg sapping everything from her & fighting w/ all it's new might but still killed. The damage done to everyone else is significantly worse.      I'm not even accounting for the background characters brainwashed, genuinly worshipping the Egg dealing w/ the fall of the Egg, the aftermath, etc.

     The Egg & Egged!Hannah win, some Pro-Omelette members in battle are killed while the rest are captured to be egged.

     Hannah dies to the Egg sapping everything from her & the Egg wins w/ it's rejuvenated power. Many Pro-Omelette members in battle are killed while the rest are captured to be egged.      Basically 3 & 4 are the bad endings, while 1 & 2 are the 'good endings.'

As I said before, there's so much I'm not considering. I can't bring myself to further work on the canon of the game/novel(s) Bad played before being isekaied.

But yeah the game/novels were full of angst & Bad was super into it so he wants to give everyone (especially his favorite character(s)) a happy ending.

People around Bad notice he's changed his behavior but lets say it's not enough to warrant any investigation.

Bad starts studying defensive magic since he doesn't want to die, he also learns all he can about summoning, deals w/ summoners, etc.. While he's at it he's tracking down all the major characters & is going to make sure they know what he's learned to prevent any possession.

When Bad finds the major characters, he becomes close friends to them but he's still nervous at the idea that the people he's befriending like Sam, Puffy & co. will kill/maim him.

Or we could have it so that Bad becomes cofortable w/ his friends & confessed about having a past life & all the knowledge of future events he has. You're choice.

When Skeppy summons him & he makes the deal w/ Skeppy he makes sure to hang around his #1 favorite character because, in his 1st life Bad loved Skeppy's character & now he has the chance to geniunely know & become friends w/ Skeppy. Skeppy even warms up to Bad & geniunely begins seeing him a a friend!

Uh, I didn't exactly develop the world much, oops, let's say that Bad is born into a high enough position to change the living conditions of those of lower class of those around him.

Bad out of fear of the Egg makes sure as many people as possible have the common sense to not do anything stupid, has the knowledge & defense to not get possessed, & more, regardless of whatever barriers are in his way.

Since the Egg makes promises, he makes sure to nip that bud as much as he can, such as making sure that even in death, loved ones can communicate via like necromancy/something else, everybody has their needs met, prejudices are squashed as much as possible, etc.

Bad, while earning the ire of many who liked things the way they were, also earns the support of those who benifited from his actions. He also actually listens to what people are saying because he can't let the Egg have any chances.

The main cast of the game/novel(s) Bad read also help out, even more if Bad confessess about his past life.

(The next paragraph has some derealization, said section of derealization being in bold.)

If we want angst, we could have Bad (& co. if they know?) overworking themselves sometimes because the Egg can't have any chances, maybe sometimes he (& others) can't go to bed because he/she/they are terrified of the Egg, terrified of it, worried about the Egg already being here, worried about the Egg already somehow possibly controlling & possessing them & already being possessed, sometimes wondering if their own mind & eyes can be trusted—

On the bright side we can hopefully have some comfort & fluff after that angst & hurt.

Also there's this 1 guy also helping Bad out as much as the main cast called Karl, he disappears at random times but by the looks of it, he isn't connected to the Egg in any way & is really helpful so there's not much to worry about.

Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

Just a bump in the road - C.H.

Warnings: talks of infertility

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Calum and his wife are trying to start their own family, but she is given some news that completely shakes her whole world up.

A/N: Infertility can be a very sensitive subject, so please read with caution. This does end happily, however I understand that being unable to have kids can be really hard on someone. If this is deemed inappropriate, I will remove it. Feedback and requests are always welcomed!!! (Want to be tagged? Let me know!)

Masterlist

           The words rang through her head as she sat in her car, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, her knuckles were starting to turn white. The car wasn’t even moving, the car wasn’t even on, but she held onto the steering wheel like it was the last thing she could hold onto. Her eyes shut in the last hopes of keeping the tears inside of her eyes. She thinks back to a year ago, almost to the day, that she married the love of her life. It was an absolutely beautiful wedding, and the two of them couldn’t have been more in love. He couldn’t stop calling her “Mrs. Hood” the entire night. The entire night, they danced and held each other’s hands, not leaving each other’s side. It’s not like they weren’t deeply in love now, but this –  her eyes spring open – this is going to tear them apart.

           When she got home, Calum wasn’t home. A sigh escaped her chest, as much as she loved coming home to him, this gave her an opportunity to think about everything that happened in the past few hours, especially since Calum didn’t even know she had and appointment. She walked inside, feeling heavy, wanting to just fall to the floor and curl up in a ball. Instead, she made her way to their shared bedroom and sat on the end, looking at her fingers. The doctors words started playing as if they were on a record inside her head.

           “Thank you for coming in on such short notice, Mrs. Hood. Your test results came back.” The doctor looked over his glasses, papers pressed between his fingers. Her stomach turned, waiting for him to continue.

           The front door opened, and she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes before running out of the bedroom to meet him at the front door. Calum’s smile spread across his face as if it was his first time ever seeing her. She smiled back at him, there was something different about this smile. She was putting on a façade and he could tell, but she was playing it off too nicely for him to question it. “Hey, baby.” He sighed as his hand gingerly sat on her neck as he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “How was your day, sugar?” He asked as he ran a hand lovingly down the back of her head.

           Her finger tips played with the fabric of his shirt that sat against his waist. She wanted to tell him everything that happened, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. “It’s was good, how was yours?” A fake smile played at her lips as the tears threatened to spill through.

           He pulled her into his chest and held her as closely as he could, “It was good, would’ve rather been here with you, though.” She closed her eyes again as the tears began welling. No, he wouldn’t have rather been here with her. “Hey,” he said pulling away from her, “Luke and Sierra invited us all over for dinner tonight, do you want to go?” She nodded, a grin pulling at her lips. Maybe going to see her friends would take her mind off it.

           They drove to Luke’s house holding hands. Calum could tell there was something wrong, her hand feeling slightly more clammy than normal. He didn’t pry though, she always told him if there was something bothering her. His thumb traced shapes into her hand as she looked out the window, no expression sitting on her face. His heart was breaking just looking at her, “Sugar, is everything okay?” He finally asked, causing her to blink.

           Her mind had been going around in circles the entire car ride, but Calum’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Her eyes were fuzzy from not blinking, but a few extra blinks cleared that up. “Yeah,” She looked at him with her lips barely turned upward, “Everything’s fine.” Everything was not fine.

           “I’m afraid it’s not good.” He finally said after a long moment of silence. Her throat worked as she continued to stare at him. Her fingers toyed with the lanyard attached to her keys as she could physically feel her blood running cold.

           Calum stopped the car, looking at her with concerned eyes as she climbed out of the car. She looked inside of her clutch as she started walking toward the front door. Calum just didn’t feel like anything was right. He reached for her elbow and gently pulled her back towards him. Her eyes washed over with confusion as their eyes met. His hand rested on her waist as he pulled her close enough to him that she could hear him whisper. “If you don’t want to be here, we can go home. We can watch a movie, and just relax.” His fingers adjusted the fabric beneath them as her eyes looked at his.

           She reached a hand up to touch his cheek. It was easy to tell that he knew something was wrong with her, but she just couldn’t tell him. “I want to be here, everything is fine, my love.” He leaned into her hand and her heart tugged. She loved him with her entire heart, but everything was going to come crashing down if she told him what actually happened today. He nodded and grabbed her hand off his cheek to kiss her fingers before holding onto it while they walked into Luke’s house.

           Having dinner with friends is exactly what she needed. The room was filled with nothing but laughter. The appointment that brought her world crashing down had almost left her mind, that was until the conversation suddenly shifted. “So, how’s project baby Hood coming along?” Ashton asked, completely innocent.

           The question made her blood freeze, her bones freeze, everything just froze. She set her wine glass down slowly, her eyes staying away from Calum as he beamed about how hard they were trying. They had been trying for months to get pregnant. Test after test coming back negative. She had started to lose all confidence in herself, so she decided maybe fertility treatments wouldn’t be such a bad idea. That’s why she went to the doctor in the first place. The first appointment just consisted of a bunch of blood tests, normal testing, the doctor had told her. It wasn’t until she got the urgent phone call from the doctor that she started to realize something was actually wrong.

           “Have you ever been blood tested before?” She blinked her eyes, thinking back to all the doctor appointments she’s ever been too. She shook her head, and the doctor nodded, dropping the papers onto his desk. “You have hypothyroidism, Mrs. Hood. That’s something you find out from blood tests.” He folded his hands together as her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

           She played along with everyone, smiling and beaming about trying for a baby, thankful when the subject finally changed. Once dinner was over, the boys headed outside, beers in their hands. Her eyes locked on Calum as a smile spread across his face, a smile that could light up an entire room. He shifted his weight as he laughed at something Michael said to him, his eyes squinting and the wrinkles by his eyes becoming prominent. Her hands started to tremble and she quickly set down the dishes in her hand as to not drop them. “Sweetie, is everything okay? You’ve looked pale all night.” Sierra asked her, taking the dishes from in front of her and placing them in the sink.

           The tears broke through the shield in her eyes and Sierra grabbed her, pulling her in for a comforting embrace. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into Sierra’s shoulder. She collected herself and ran her fingers under her eyes. “I just got some bad news today, everything will be okay.” She forced a smile, trying to mostly convince herself that everything was going to be okay. Sierra nodded, understanding that it wasn’t something that needed to be talked about right now and returned to the dishes.

           Calum had to be at the studio early the next morning. She woke up with him and kissed him goodbye, he sent her wink as he left the house. Her arms crossed over her body as her thoughts raced, the darkest thoughts starting to surface. Her heart pounded in her chest and she turned on her heels and went running to the bedroom. Maybe it was the ensuing panic attack, but she started to collect all of her clothes and throw them into bags. Her tears became hysterical. She put her hands on the side of her head and she sunk to the floor and put her head between her knees.

           The doctor cleared his throat. “Hypothyroidism can cause many things. Weight loss, fatigue, depression, memory loss, muscle pain,” He stopped and looked at her through glossy eyes. Her breath got caught in her throat as he mumbled the last word.

           The sound of the handle on the bedroom door twisting told her she had been sitting there longer than she expected. Calum opened the door to find her in the fetal position at the end of the bed. Her clothes were everywhere, some of it was hanging out of suitcases, some of it was lying on the floor. He looked around the room, his eyebrows stitching together, “Baby, what’s going on?”

           “I’m leaving, Calum.” She mumbled, her body not moving.

           His heart stopped. “You’re what?” She repeated herself but louder. His thoughts ran wild as he looked around the room at her haphazard packing. His heart started to shatter, the tears started to well on the rim of his eyes. “If you cared about me, you wouldn’t do this.” He said through broken sobs.

           She sat up, her legs sat straight out in front of her, her arms limp, the back of her hands resting on the floor. His heart finally shattered when he saw how pale her face was, and how red her eyes were. “It’s not that I don’t care about you, I’m just taking the steps towards the inevitable.” She shrugged, her emotions not faltering.

           He kneeled in front of her, touching his right palm to her cheek, and his left palm to her thigh, “What are you talking about, the inevitable?” Her eyes met his, the spark he knew so well was gone. His breath hitched as he realized she was suddenly a ghost inside the skin of the woman he fell in love with.

           “Infertility.” The tears started rolling down her cheeks as she tried to compose herself. “We can get you on thyroid treatments, but it might take a while to balance out the hormone. If we can’t get it to balance out, then you may never be able to have children, Mrs. Hood.” Her head fell into her hands after she nodded in understanding. She had sat there and cried for a while, before she finally found the strength to leave the office and go to her car.

           Her eyes dropped to her hands. “We’ve been having such terrible luck conceiving that I thought some fertility treatments would be helpful.” She started to explain, holding back the tears. “They did some blood tests because that’s what they normally do when starting fertility treatments.” Calum’s eyes were locked on hers, his heart beating a million times per hour “It turns out –“ she raised her eyebrows and played with her fingers, “—that I have hypothyroidism, which can cause infertility.” The word stung as it left her lips. Her eyebrows stitched together as she flexed her fingers. “The doctor said I can go on thyroid treatments, but if they can’t get the hormone to balance out, then I won’t be able to have kids.”

           Calum’s eyebrows raised and he sat in front of her, pulling her into his lap, and wrapping his arms around her as tightly as physically possible. He placed a hand on her cheek and forced her to look at him. “I am not leaving, you are not leaving, you hear me? I know that we’ve been trying, but if your health needs to come first, then that’s what comes first. And I need you to listen to me very carefully,” He raised his eyebrows again, waiting for her to show him he had her full attention. She nodded into his palm, “I love you, no matter what. There are other actions we can take to start a family. This is just a bump in the road, not a dead end.” She nodded into his palm again, the tears welling in her eyes, her chin quivering. He pulled her into his chest, his hand resting on the back of her head as she cried into his shoulder. A few mumbled ‘I love yous’ falling from her lips. “I love you too, baby.” He said after pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “Why don’t I draw you a hot bath and then I’ll clean up the room, how does that sound?” She nodded against his shoulder as he dipped his arm under her legs and carried her into the bathroom. Just a bump in the road, she thought to herself, not a dead end.

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 106 prt 2

Lance’s question was directed at both of them. Keith nuzzling into his boyfriend’s chest

“Babe. You don’t need to ask me. She’s your mum. It’s okay to want her here”

Coran’s smile lessened a little

“I’m sorry that’ll have to wait until you’ve regained some of your strength. It’s taxing enough on you, as well as controlling your ego. Rest today, then I’ll bring her by tomorrow”

Lance’s body seemed to slump without moving. He might not be close to Krolia, but Mami meant the world to Lance. If Lance needed her there, he’d pick her up himself

“I understand”

He shouldn’t have to

“I know this is hard. Krolia questioned me already over your condition. She was quite angry at being able to help. Until I’m certain there won’t be a mishap, we must air on the side of caution. If Keith was not your partner I wouldn’t have allowed him to stay as it was”

“You let everyone visit last night”

There was bite Keith’s tone as he pointed out the obvious

“As Lance was sleeping...”

“Babe, it’s okay. He knows that if something did happen, I’d be devastated. If he says it’s safer for us to wait, then I’ll have to be patient”

“It’s not fair”

“It’s not, but I’ve got you... honestly, I’d probably sleep through her visiting. The pair of us would be snoring our heads off. Coran can I have that injection now? I wanna take a nap”

Lance was trying to hard. If he could see his boyfriend’s face he knew he’d see that fake smile. This sucked

“Sure, my boy. Just a quick jab and then I’ll be on my way”

As quick as Coran appeared he was gone again. Keith still mad at him, and Lance knew it

“Babe, it’s okay”

“It’s not. She’s your mum. You should be able to have your mum here. You don’t have to hide how much you want her”

“No, but I do have to be careful... I really do want to see her... but not if I could hurt her”

“You wouldn’t do that”

“You can’t say that for sure”

“I can because it’s you. I can go...”

“No. No. I’ll see her tomorrow. I don’t know what I’m going to tell her”

“The truth?”

“I know that much... Keith, are you really sure you’re okay with this? You’re not trying to put my wants first?”

“No, babe. I’m scared and I have no idea what a father really is. I lost my dad too soon. And I’m probably going to be the worst dad ever...”

“You? I’m probably going to drop the baby”

“You’d catch them with those reflexes of yours”

Lance snorted at him

“I don’t think normal people make these jokes”

“Fuck normal. You’re going to be a good dad”

“No... we’ll be good dads together... I don’t want to lose it now I know they exist”

“Me neither... I’m scared too”

“I know you are... I’m just sorry I’m so sleepy. I want to talk to you better but I can barely keep my eyes open”

“That’s okay. Get some rest. I’m not leaving your side”

*

Lance was internally freaking the fuck out. He was pregnant. Baby on board. Life growing inside of him. His own personal version of that Alien movie where it burst out his stomach. There was a baby in him. Keith and his wonder dick had proved he definitely had great swimmers in there and now he was up the duff, bun in the oven... Pregnant.

In a lot of ways he was grateful for being so fatigued. He really did want to talk to Keith, but he was so damn tired that sleeping meant it was put off. Keith couldn’t possibly be as okay as he was making out. This wasn’t something small. This was like a whole life inside of him. They’d been careful... but not careful enough... and now he had a baby growing inside of him... and it was weird. Keith’s birthday weekend was approaching. He’d been looking forward to that too much, but if he went hiking, Keith would probably fret too much to enjoy himself. And then there were the others to consider. What did he tell them and when did he tell them? Pidge and Hunk were physical people. Pidge would drop into his lap for cuddles and Hunk would sweep him off his feet. That’s how it was. How did he tell that was a no go? And how was his baby even alive after what happened? What if they’d been hurt? What if something was wrong with them? He couldn’t stop the continuous bombardment in his sleepy head.

Keith was snoring against him. His poor boyfriend had to see him hurt again... and it’s been bad from what he’d said. He’d hurt him again. Scared him. He’d scared him so many times... but he... When this all sank in, what would he really say? When the shock was over they were left with the truth, would Keith still want a baby with him? Or would he ask him to abort? His damn stupid mind was already attached to the tiny thing knowing it existed. Part of him screamed with happiness, the dirty rotten traitor part. He wanted to be rational, but the idea of having a baby with Keith, though a surprise, was something he’d wanted long into the future when everything was over... He couldn’t... He wanted... He wanted to keep the baby... but he couldn’t do that if Keith wasn’t ready. This might be his body, but Keith was his heart and soul.

He’d had kind of the same talk with Coran when Coran had brought him lunch. Coran back and forth between being happy for them being realistic. His decisions no longer were purely his to make... He wondered if his mother felt the same. He was 3 years older than when she’d had him. Her brood already full of 4 mischievous kids. Kids were loud and messy. Scraped knees and blood noses came with the territory. Would their baby be fully human, or would it pop out with little bat wings and ears? Would he be able to cope? And would there ever be that urge for blood and to feed on them? It made him feel sick thinking about it.

But... he kept coming back to it. He was attached. This little life he and Keith had made. Their love had made a whole other human. No. More like their lust. They liked where they were. Keith job was finally making him happy. Lance was the one overthinking things, always stalling and pulling away. Acting his age went out of the window when Keith was around. His boyfriend had had a pretty shitty life. They both had. They both had the emotional scars to prove it. He wanted this baby. But he could very well lose it and all of this could be for nothing. Keith would put on a brave face, tell him it wasn’t his fault. When it would be. He didn’t want to lose it. He didn’t want to fall asleep and wake up covered in his own blood. He didn’t want to cause everyone pain... but most of all he was so fucking tired of being like this. With all these thoughts. What would his Mami think? She’d thought she’d never see him fall in love. She loved Keith. But this would drive his family further apart... and he was so sick of that. Luis wouldn’t understand... None of them ever could. They were human. He wasn’t. No matter how much he tried. If he was human, he wouldn’t be pregnant. His body would change. His stomach would round out. Would Keith still love him then? When he no longer looked like this? He’d never deny Keith access to his child. He’d never take that away from him, even if they didn’t work out. But would he be filled with longing for Keith every time he saw him? Would he cope with Keith moving on? He knew he wouldn’t. Keith was so fucking good to him. Too good to him. He was amazed how much love Keith had for him, especially seeing how much he’d hated him to begin with. If Keith had pulled that trigger, none of this would have happened. He’d never know what it was to love someone like he loved Keith. He didn’t want to hold Keith back. This thing with Honerva... he’d leave. He’d leave when it came time to go after her... and Lance wouldn’t stop him if that’s where he needed to be. Keith had been wounded by the loss of Krolia... Lance had Coran. Coran, Allura, Matt, Rieva, Hunk, Pidge, and his Mami... would Keith feel replaced?

Keith let out a rather loud nasally snore, his fingertips digging into Lance’s stomach. His boyfriend was so incredibly adorable. So soft and kind, under his anger loaf outside. He’d come a long way from when he thought he didn’t know how to people very well. He wasn’t the problem, it was the people around him who didn’t care what he had to say. Shiro and Adam did the best they could, but now Keith had a whole bunch of friends who loved him for him and his confidence had grown. He didn’t lurk in group chat anymore, sometimes even initiating conversation. He loved that. That Keith was opening up to them fully. He was so proud of his boyfriend... and now he was carrying his baby. Their baby.

Letting Keith’s snoring lull him back to sleep, he fell asleep still holding Keith’s hand.

DWC 2020 - Day 6

May not be suitable for some readers, viewer discretion is advised

Disaster

Battle for Azeroth prepatch the War of Thorns A serene owl flew above the landscape. It is calm and kept to itself, but the eyes of the sentry owl scanned the landscape, searching. Out of the silence, an arrow flew out and struck the owl through its center, and it fell lifelessly with a strangled coo. That is all the sight Jiroki Glaivefall needed to find her target. The Kaldorei woman sprung out, glaive in hand, and she rushed towards the shadows of one of the many trees. A small curse is sounded as a Sin’dorei is forced out of his hiding spot. He’s able to at least intercept the first blow given by the woman whose expression told of an infuriating anger, but a root seemingly seems to lift up on its own and trip the unexpecting sun-elf, and it’s all Jiroki needs to cleave him down.  “Moon, I said not to follow me.” Jiroki calls out to an unseen ally, and a druid timidly comes out of hiding. Long hair bound in a braid behind her, Reillea Wilder approaches her friend. With how her beautiful hair had a shine that was almost like Elune herself, close friends had the habit to call her Moon.  “Alldreas said not to run off alone! There’s too many of them out here, it’s dangerous!” The Horde were infesting the lands, and so recently had sprung up from the mountains of Felwood. They were being pinned, and there seemed to be no end in sight.

A sudden war cry startles Jiroki and Moon from their thoughts, and Jiroki silently curses to herself for letting her guard down. Whirling around the two elves watch a band of orcs heads towards them, and Jiroki steadies herself for combat. However the action becomes unnecessary as suddenly something leaps through the air and lands in the center of the orcs, an expulsion of fel bursting in all directions, and the ground even shatters. The orcs are baffled by not only the ground shaking but the exposure to fel they’re suddenly encountered with, but the being takes hold of his glaives and slices them all down. A Demon Hunter stood in the center of the circle of fresh corpses, chest bearing fel-green tattoos that pulsed with a sickly glow and horns that curved over top of his head. A blindfold covered where his eyes once were, but that didn’t stop him from turning and facing the direction of the women.  “You need to stop being reckless.” Alldreas normally wasn’t so in control of himself. At times he acted unstable with his powers, and other times the madness from his demon caused him to be eccentric and cause alarm to most other Demon Hunters. But when there was an agreement with his chosen demon, they were a force to reckon with. War is upon them, and there is a need to kill. “We are having trouble pushing them back, we need to stay where we are strongest, sister.”  Jiroki grimaces as he calls her that. She was not truly his sister, he only shared half of the Glaivefall bloodline from her father. Even if there was bad blood, the Demon Hunter was persistent in ensuring Jiroki didn’t do anything too reckless.  “We have to dismantle their scouting units, they’re killing off the owls; we’ll go blind at this rate.” Jiroki huffs in self defense, then scowls as the Demon Hunter gives an inappropriate chuckle at the risk of them going ‘blind’.  Before more rebuttal remarks are made, more of the Horde begin to show up, some War Braves accompanied by orcs. Moon steps further behind the two as she readies her druidic abilities, but an expression of worry was on her face.  “Do these orcs breed like rabbits?” The Demon Hunter growls out as he readies his bloodied glaives. “We need to get back! They need our help!” Moon calls out, trying to be the voice of reason, though little time is given to consider her words as the Warbrave charges. Alldreas is quick to intercept this one, being the strongest of the three, and Jiroki assists with going after some of the orcs. Moon stays back and calls on her druidic powers; she being a novice, but knew enough to aid her friends as best as possible. During the fighting a warhone is sounded, and it draws the attention of the three elves immediately. It came from Lor’danel, and it is a call for retreat. Retreat? Some of the orcs begin to roar out in victory, though the Warbrave is quickly cut down by the overpowering Demon Hunter. Jiroki takes a moment to use the distraction to her advantage to slay the orc in front of her before she leaps back. “Head back, I’ll cover you!” Alldreas calls out as he lunges for an orc that had been about to follow Jiroki, stopping the orc in his tracks as his head lops off. Jiroki hesitates, but Moon is quick to grab her arm and pull her along. “Come on!” Moon doesn’t need to urge Jiroki too much, and soon the two are running as fast as their legs can carry them, heading towards Lor’danel. The Horde had conquered the beach south of them, Night Elven ships hijacked and to be used for their own gain as demolishers were herded out on the beach. Still some defenders left for Lor’danel, but civilians were now being evacuated through a portal. “Teldrassil is lost! The Horde plan to invade! All civilians must leave at once!” A ranger was calling out, but the news struck Moon and Jiroki through the heart. “L-Lost? But, so soon? We can’t, there has to be-” Moon glanced over towards the World Tree, but Jiroki turns to her in concern. “Moon, don’t your parents still live in Teldrassil? They never left, right?” Jiroki pesters seriously, but it makes Moon wince. “Y-... Yes, they do…” Moon had a falling out with her parents, so much so that they had never even had the chance to meet their grandchild that Moon gave birth to. But Jiroki knew how Moon is. “If they’re planning to invade, your parents are going to get killed. Go get them, you can take them to my home in Pandaria, they’ll be safe there.” “But-” Moon began hesitating, stuck between running straight towards the portal to get them, but also staying here for the fight. “I can’t leave you-” “Don’t worry about me, I won’t run off again. I lost my parents and I regret not helping them; you still have that chance to do so. Go!” Jiroki urges her on, even going as far as to push her slightly. Moon takes a step back from the push, hesitates a bit more, then gives in. Turning on her heel she rushes off, heading towards a portal to Teldrassil that was formed for the civilians.  “Stay vigilant! Buy as much time as you can!” The ranger calls out again, and Jiroki takes up arms to do just that. A headhunter stood nearby that faced off with a struggling Sentinel, and like a bat out of hell Jiroki jumps into the fray. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jiroki wasn’t sure how many she had killed, but judging by the blood steadily growing on her armor it had been quite a few. Cut and scrapes now on her person, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she continued to defend. Facing off against Headhunters had been interesting. Jiroki herself had been not only learning of Loa worship but of practicing it as well, and she felt spirits of the hunt watching her every more, wanting more to hunt, wanting more to claim victory over. No doubt the other Headhunters were guided by their own spirits, whoever they may be, but so far in this moment Jiroki reigned supreme over them. Becoming reckless Jiroki unconsciously lowered her guard, giving a Forsaken his Last Death as a Sin’dorei Templar charged at her from behind. A shield bash on the back of the head causes her to fall to her knees, dropping her weapon from being stunned. By right this should have been her last moment alive as the Sin’dorei drew his sword to slay yet another Kaldorei, but the fates planned otherwise. A startling scream comes from the man as his armor and chest is suddenly penetrated by the tip of a glaive, guts and blood spewing as he’s unmercifully raised into the air, and tossed aside like a ragdoll. Alldreas briefly shakes his glaive of any blood before reaching down and pulling Jiroki to her feet. “I have your back. Where is Moon?” Alldreas asks of the woman who is still trying to  get the world to stop spinning. “Teldrassil is going to be invaded…” She takes an uneasy step, but Alldreas keeps a firm hold on her arm. “She went to get her parents out. We’ve… We’ve lost…” The sting of having to verbally accept it is more than she could take. Bridled anger coursed through her, wanting so much to pick up her glaive and hunt down the nearest Horde monster, but Alldreas holds her back. “I come out of prison to defeat the Legion, just to now be involved in this mess.” Alldreas sneers, glancing over down towards the beach. The spot where they stood held the view of the beach slightly obscured, but who knows what his sight could see. Once Jiroki is able to stand she shrugs him off and picks up her weapon. Alldreas’ body begins to tense as he keeps staring, and screams are heard nearby. Jiroki becomes alarmed and starts to look around, expecting more foes, but none come. “THE TREE!” Someone cries out in dismay, and Jiroki takes a look. Bright orange balls with trails of smoke trailed through the sky, heading towards the trunk of the World Tree. Upon impact there is a burst of flare, smoke billowing upwards, and soon specks of flickering orange and red lights start so spread around the tree.  They are firing at Teldrassil.  Teldrassil is burning. “What-” Jiroki’s stomach drops as she stares, unable to comprehend what she is witnessing. The presence of the spirits wane, and usually Jiroki would feel a heavy spell of fatigue when their blessing fades, but not this time. This time all other emotions seized at her core. Alldreas was at a loss of words as well, the demon hunter seeing much more than the elf beside him. Fighting on both fronts had stopped for now, both sides horrified at what they were witnessing before them. Was this the will of the Warchief? “Moon!” Alldreas snaps towards Jiroki, starting to shake slightly as he becomes unstable with emotions. “Isn’t Moon still up there?!” The realization that their friend is up there was enough to punch Jiroki in the gut so much she focuses, gasping and looking around. The portal still stood, though started to wane as the casters focused on the sight all others were looking at.  “Yes! I think! I-I don’t if she found-” Jiroki herself began to shake as well. How many people are up there?  “We must hurry!” Alldreas’ chest was beginning to heave with labored breaths, turning quickly to run towards the portal. “If we make it in time we can evacuate others-” Jiroki is suddenly shoved aside by the Demon Hunter with great force. She’s stunned by the sudden maneuver, but she doesn’t ask questions as she sees a Sin’dorei Demon Hunter standing right where she just was, glaive poised as if he had just cleaved through something. She’s quick to get to her feet, but now the Demon Hunters were gauging each other. “How can you follow someone willing to slaughter innocents?!” Alldreas hisses at one of his former comrades. Did they know each other? Have they fought together? Idle questions pass through Jiroki’s mind as she takes a few steps back, but none of them mattered. “This is not what Lord Illidan created us for!” The other demon hunter remained silent for a time, though Jiroki had a sense that he was gauging everything and everyone in his surroundings.  “The Legion is controlled. Now all we have left are our former homes. If I need to slaughter every living thing that threatens my precious city, so be it.” The Sin’dorei had chosen his sight, and Alldreas becomes unsteady.    “You MONSTER!” Right before her very eyes Jiroki watches as Alldreas begins his metamorphosis. She had wondered what his destined demon had been, and as he hunched over and extra sets of limbs began to grow gruesomely out of his sides and back, she was able to figure it out.  “For the Horde!” The other Demon Hunter responds in kind, beginning his own metamorphosis now, his skin beginning to grow scales and harden at a rapid pace, becoming bulkier and larger. If these two demon hunters were about to have a showdown right here, then Jiroki needed to leave immediately, else she’d definitely be caught in the crossfire. “Get out of here Jiroki.” Alldreas calls out, his deep voice being even rendered further as his demonic side takes over. “Find Moon and escape, while I deal with this abomination! ANDU-FALAH-DOR!”Jiroki felt an inkling of pride for her relative as he charges at the Sin’dorei, the two meeting together in brute force, but those were set aside quickly as the growing smoke from Teldrassil gets even higher. Turning on her heel she makes a break for it, heading towards the portal.

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

Fire seeped through the branches, getting towards the mainland of Teldrassil. People were running as heros from all over Azeroth helped evacuate the denizens to the Temple of the Moon. Jiroki stood still for a moment as she watched with stricken horror, ashes raining down like polluted snow as the air started getting thick with smoke. She knew where Moon’s parents lived, if they had not evacuated to the temple they would be there. Or caught up in the flames. Her steps felt heavy at first as she began walking down the bridge away from the Temple of Moon, people flooding past her as they ran, but soon enough she found that she had started running. There’s a sudden shake in the ground, as if an earthquake was happening as more fireballs struck the tree, and Jiroki stumbles. The flames continued to spread, and Jiroki hastened. “REILLEA!!” Jiroki starts calling out as she runs through Darnassus, heading towards the craftsman area. Moon’s father was a tailor if Jiroki remembered correctly, and they kept their abode nearby. The fire is spreading closer down now, air thick with smoke. Reaching around she grabs hold of the end of her cloak and brings it up to her face, ignoring the blood stains as she tries to filter out the smoke. Every once in a while she uncovers her mouth to shout for her friend, hoping maybe she’ll meet Moon on the path with her parents as they run to the temple. Everywhere people were screaming. Some in terror, some trying to find family or a loved one, others with their last deathrattle as the flames took them. Jiroki felt the burns on her back ache with pain, remembering when she stepped into the Firelands to fight against the druids of flame, only to encounter her own brother who saw fit to torment her with flames. She’s no stranger to fire, but this felt different. Stepping into the Firelands you knew you did not belong here, and that you will get burned. This place meant for home and safety, where her people practiced their druidic and priestess ways in peace. War did not belong here. Jiroki ran beneath a burning overpass, but before she reached the other side something cascaded in flame fell in front of her. With a startled gasp she stopped in her tracks, only to realize what was burning before her was a crumbled body of what was once a night elf. The smell of burnt flesh assaulted her senses, driving her back to times of burning of herself and others, and her stomach roils. Up above the overpass burned like this body, but Jiroki skirts around and keeps running. “REILLEA!”  Finding the place that Moon’s parent lives, Jiroki stops in her tracks, almost hurling up whatever contents sat in her stomach. The building had been struck with burning ammunition that the Horde were firing, completely smoldered in flames. If anyone was inside they’d be dead-  Jiroki’s ears twitch; is that sobbing? “REILLEA?!” There was a small pass where Jiroki could run through. She’d get singed by the fire, but she'd been burned before. Covering her head with her cloak she dashes through, feeling the heat of the flames against her form as her back screams in agony, but she ignores it as her eyes scan around. She crouches low, trying to see through the haze of the smoke, but the sobbing sounded much louder now. Spotting a figure, she rushes closer to see who it is, and almost hurls yet again at the sight.  Moon sat on her knees on the ground, holding a limp figure in her arms. She had been burned, her beautiful hair singed as the womanly figure in her arms with the same hair bled. Nearby in some burning wreckage there’s another pinned, perhaps a man once, but it was hard to tell how with his burning flesh melted and charred off its corpse.  “Moon-” Jiroki choked. These were her parents, and now they’re dead. Did Moon get to have her closure with them? Were last words given, or were they struck in an argument without being aware of the death that had been flying towards them? There’s no time to ponder such thoughts, it’s getting harder to breathe. “We have to go-”  Moon sobs with agony, stuck in her grief as she mourned. Another shake in the foundation indicated that the Horde were unrelenting in their attacks, their hearts set on seeing Teldrassil ablaze. Jiroki comes up to try and coax Moon into moving, but soon she realizes that something is wrong on Relliea that would hinder their passage. Reillea had been recovering from a leg injury she received while helping the defense on Darkshore, given orders to take it easy on it while it mended. That leg is gone now. Too many questions invaded Jiroki’s thought as she finally noticed the pooling blood forming beneath her friend. Another small earthquake, and Jiroki makes a grueling decision. She unties the cloak from her person and wraps up Moon’s leg as best as able in this situation, and then starts to pry the corpse from her grasp. Moon retaliates, screaming incoherently with an occasional sputter of Darnassian, but Jiroki’s stronger than the injured druid right now. Jiroki scoops up Moon and carries her out, ignoring the cries and futile attempts of Moon trying to hit her. They passed through the flames, they being much hotter than Jiroki remembered, and they were out in the open.  The flames grew with no end in sight. Not as many people were running around now. Bodies littered where they traveled as Jiroki headed down the path she had come; she didn’t remember passing so many bodies along the way. It’s so much harder to see, so much harder to breath. A heart wrenching whinny of a horse startled Jiroki, almost causing her to drop her precious bundle as a horse runs by. The horse had caught on fire, the main of the creature ablaze as it ran frantically to try and put itself out. It would no doubt die a slow, and painful death. “Come on, you can do it!” Jiroki hears the voice of a man, and she looks to see someone else with their own precious bundle. A Kaldorei man guiding a Gilnean woman. This woman could walk, but she seemed to be set in shock by everything going on, and the man shielded her as best as he could from the flames. He glanced up and he and Jiroki briefly made eye contact, and wordlessly they all headed in the same direction. No communication needed when people seeking to survive the same threat meet.  The sound of wood creaking was constant throughout all of Teldrassil, wood waning and giving way to hatred’s grip in the form of flames. Though suddenly a much louder sound of wood splinters the ears as an Ancient suddenly comes into the path of the four, causing everyone to stop. The Ancient covered in flames entirely, most usually able to withstand flames for a time, but this one could hold out no longer. It’s legs giving way it starts to collapse.  “Run!” The man calls out, instantly pulling away the Gilnean with him, and Jiroki turns swiftly and gets out of the way. With the most painful sound Jiroki has ever heard as an Ancient makes it falls, obscuring the only obvious path that they could have made.  “Shit-” Jiroki curses then starts to cough, smoke filling her lungs. “We have to find another way!”  “But where?! Everything is on fire! I-I don’t see another path!” The man doing his best to look around, holding the woman to his chest that had tears streaming down her face and muttered to herself, trembling. Jiroki looks around too, then looks up above. She could see Hippogryphs flying around, most trying to escape as flames licked at the feathered tips of their wings, and Jiroki had a thought. Taking a knee she lowers Moon slightly, holding her close with one arm as the druid just now just mourns into Jiroki while gasping for breath, and with her free hand she pats her own sides. There might be a way out. Pulling out a whistle she brings it to her lips, one carved years ago for a dear friend of hers, and she blows into it. The shrill sound echoes off the burning buildings and into the smoke filled air.  “D-Do you think someone will hear us?!” The man speaks out, hope filling his voice, but it just makes Jiroki’s stomach turn.  “Maybe.” Part of her hoped that the one this whistle is meant for wouldn’t be here, but who knows. She had let him roam around in Darkshore when she didn’t need him for combat, so maybe… Nothing happens for a time, and she blows the whistle again. Seconds feel like hours as they wait, and there’s no time to wait at all. Just as Jiroki began to pick up Moon again there’s a buffeting of wings, and a hippogryph descends. Takesh had answered the whistle, a male hippogryph who not only had an attitude similar to Jiroki’s, but was able and powerful, having been in many encounters with Jiroki when she was younger. However, he, too, is a victim of Teldrassil. He sounds short of breath and almost falls over once he lands, covered in ash as his feathers look scorched. The sight of her friend like this broke her heart, but also made her swell with emotion that he would come in her time of need. Takesh tried to screech in agitation at the burning buildings around him, but he had been well trained and remained where he stood.  “Come on, get on!” Jiroki tells the man as she starts to bring Moon close. She couldn’t leave them, they all had to get out of here together, but it dawned on her that there were four of them and one of Takesh. Already the man was helping the Gilnean mount Takesh, and Jiroki’s throat begins to clamp up. Swallowing down the lump, she turns to the man.  “Alright, I’ll help you get on, hand me your friend-” The man was already calculating in his head how they could all do this, but Jiroki shakes her head.  “No, you get on. Help your friend and take mine with you.” She motions at Moon. “We all can’t fly together.” The man pauses a bit, realizing what Jiroki was implying. “But we can’t-” “Go!” Jiroki hisses out ruefully, starting to grind her teeth as her fabled anger lashes out. “Hurry up!! We don’t have all day; you’re wasting time!!” Taken aback by her anger the man obliges, saddling up behind the woman. He straps the woman in and then himself, then Jiroki hands Moon over to in. Moon is vaguely aware in her grief that she’s being pulled away, a weak hand reaching out to grab Jiroki, but Jiroki steps back and moves towards the front of Takesh. “This is a heavy load, but I know you can do this, you’re strong.” Jiroki starts petting the neck of this great beast as the man settles his hold on both women. Takesh had an ego that could rival an orc’s honor, and it shows as he puffs out his chest and wings start to stretch to test their limits. His breathing is still heavy though. “Alright, we’re good!” The man calls out, but before Jiroki steps away Takesh leans in and presses his beak against Jiroki’s forehead. Other races on Azeroth couldn’t comprehend the intelligence that these mighty beasts had, but the Night Elves could. Sympathetically Jiroki closes her eyes and pats his neck one final time in their silent goodbye, and she steps away. “Head to the Temple of the Moon, that’s where they’re evacuating everyone to Stormwind!” Jiroki calls out as Takesh starts to paw his hooves and flaps his wings, getting ready for take off. The flames nearby fanned from the brush of air, but it’s ignored. He will handle the pain and carry his cargo to safety.  “Elune bless you!” The man calls out, and Takesh leaps into the air. A screech of agitation is heard, flames almost seemingly try to reach for the bird, and there’s a startled cry from his passengers, but Takesh gains air and swiftly flies off.  Now Jiroki stood alone, but there’s no time to lollygag, and so she backtracks and tries to find an alternate route. There is fire everywhere. Bodies burned everywhere. Smoke filled her lungs. There is fire everywhere. The scent of burnt flesh and corpses infested her senses. Fire everywhere. Her burnt back ached. The water from the lake steamed as it evaporated. Fire is everywhere. Fire is everywhere. Fire is everywhere. I’ve been sent to hell for my sins. Jiroki had been sweating profusely for who knows how long, but as she wipes her face to clear ash and smoke she realizes she’s been crying. Bodies of people she knew, people she never met, races that the Kaldorei people had helped laid charred and burned, now looking all the same. They reminded her of other burnt bodies she’d been forced to scour through, of either people she fought alongside with or of innocents she had brought the demise of without her knowing. But from what Jiroki could see in the present, there is no way out. “I’m so sorry-” There’s only so much a woman known for her pride and anger and stubborn nature could take. “I’m so sorry-” Lost in a haze of smoke and ash, she trips over a smoldering corpse and is taken to her knees, and she crumbles. “This was home, why did I leave-” The only thing that hurt more than the pain in her lungs, the aching memories on her back, and the occasional touch of flame, is the immense guilt forming in her chest that threatened to kill her right there. “I should have stayed, the Kaldorei, my people-” With a tear streaked face she glances around. It almost felt like all the corpses stared at her, waiting for when it was her time to burn and join their ashes. Even as a crumbled mess there’s a need for survival, and through sheer willpower she pushes herself up to stand and resume moving, albeit much slower. “Min’da, And’a, Rydras-” Calling out ghosts of the past as she treks through what her people once thrived in. “I’ll- I’ll never forsake anyone again, I’m so sorry- I should have listened-” Finally her roiling stomach won, once more falling to her knees as she starts to hurl. But there’s no air for her to gasp for, and she’s stuck through a vicious cycle of wheezing, coughing, and gagging. “Th-These are my people, I- I won’t leave again-”  Her mind turning into a haze, the lack of oxygen starting to affect her as the smoke filled her lungs. “No, I-” She tries to crawl, still needing an exit, but it becomes too much and she falls forward. A brief image of her current people flash through her mind. People that worked alongside her mercenaries, people she worked with and somehow deemed her as a worthy friend, trusted allies from the other faction as she vaguely wondered their stance on all this, her sister who was sitting at home, her brother that burned her but wanted redemption, her lover, her twins. They passed through her mind as her consciousness began to wane.  Up above there’s an obnoxious screech of a hippogryph, sounding oddly like Takesh. Whoever it was didn’t land though, more or less sweeping the area, but then something heavy lands beside her. A clawed hand grips the back of her neck, and she’s hoisted up and thrown over a shoulder.  “My nephew and niece won’t be losing another parent so soon.” Alldreas says as he holds the elf with one of his arms. In his battle with the other Sin’dorei he had reigned supreme, but at the cost of some of his extra limbs being hacked away. Jiroki isn’t the only burden he carried. Two arms may have been cut, but in his metamorphosis he still had four left over, and he carried others with him. A worgen, two others elves, and a huddled child that he kept close to his chest. His burdens were heavy, but he had sacrificed himself for his people, and he stayed true to his virtues. Finding the person he had been searching for he starts to retreat back with the guidance of a lone man on a hippogryph in the sky, willing to pick up more survivors along the way if he ran into any, but only so many could be saved.

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

It felt so hard to breathe. Jiroki was confident that in whatever hell her true death sent her that her lungs were taken away, so that she can remember what it felt like when the fires robbed her of her breath. But as more of her senses begin to stir she realizes she is not dead. In fact, she’s laying on her back with a damp cloth over her head, filtering out vague sunlight and easing her burns. Her armor stripped of her person and she felt a wool blanket over her form, though warmth is the last thing she needed. Beginning to stir she reaches up to move the cloth, only to be graced with clear skies and an all too bright sun, though she fights with her pained senses to get a bearing of her surroundings. She was now in Stormwind, specifically on the docks, and people are everywhere. Not only of citizens of Stormwind, but of Draenei, of Gnomes, of countless of Gilnean and Elven refugees. Walking past her right now is a Dwarf in a hurry, pushing along a cart filled with rations to past out for those that sat in waiting and were not currently being treated. Those that were being treated… Were not in her immediate proximity, most likely in another area so healers could focus on getting them to live. Sitting up she glances around and notices a solemn figure standing perfectly still beside her, almost as still as the Ancients scattered that had nowhere to turn to. Alldreas no longer in his metamorphosis form, the arms he had lost not being his true arms thankfully. His real arms crossed, and a grim expression sat on his face as he stared straight ahead yet looked around all at once. He looked beaten and battered, burned as well, but he did not seek aid. Jiroki becomes aware of more sounds around her; so much grieving. But a voice crying to her other side catches her attention, and her heart is overjoyed yet grieves at the same time.  Moon is okay, as is Takesh. The hippogryph laid down on his haunches as Moon curls up in his feathers, mourning and weeping bitterly. Jiroki could see one of Moon’s legs, stretched out as she laid with the creature, the other…  Takesh had his great head resting over the form of the elf, solemn and quiet as he acts as a beacon. Occasionally his breathing becomes harsh and his form wracks with coughs, Jiroki becoming distinctly aware that she had never seen a hippogryph cough in such a way. His beady eyes glance over at Jiroki as she sits up and just stares at her surroundings, but he doesn’t move from his spot. He needed to rest.  Nowhere did Jiroki see a smiling face. Everyone either solemn, terrified, in shock, mourning, or angry. The Banshee Bitch had committed an atrocity meant to tear away hope, but it only united the Alliance and made everyone come to a single conclusion. War is here.  Jiroki felt herself becoming bridled with rage, slowly at first, until it threatened to seize her entirely and make her snap. But a voice slices through that demands her immediate attention. “Hang onto that anger.” Alldreas speaks, his sight still directed ahead of him. “Hold it. Don’t ever lose it. You’re going to need it, but not here.” Jiroki glances up at the older Demon Hunter. His kind knew what it’s like to forsake a livelihood. “Now, we need to mend our wounds, and get strong. And then, then-” His muscles flexed, his own emotions heightened, but he controls himself. No, inside his mind, there’s an agreement. “Then, we will slaughter those who did this to us. To them.” His arms lower to motion at the crowd of refugees, of the shattered pieces that remained from those who lived in Teldrassil and survived.  “This is a disaster. I’m going to kill every last one of them-” His words encouraged her, but she felt so angry. Alldreas knelt down and took one of her clenched fists in hand with one of his demonic, leathery ones.  “You will. We will. In time. We heal, and we plot.” His head turns to face her directly, as if capable of making eye contact. “Don’t lose it. When the time is right, it’ll be your strongest weapon.” And Jiroki couldn’t agree with him more, causing her to repeat his last words with more conviction she’s ever had in her life.  “When the time is right.” (( @daily-writing-challenge​ )) (( I wrote this up when the War of the Thorns first happened, but I thought it would be neat to bring back out for this writing challenge. Moon and Alldreas are some more of my alts; I need more friends lolol.))

Mourning My Vision- It’s more than depression...

Writing a post at 2 am when I’m absolutely exhausted and starting to lose it? Yeah, okay. This blog isn’t called The Late Night Writing Advice blog for nothing.

Okay, it’s 2 am and there’s something I want to talk to you guys about.

So my blog is known (I think?) as that one writing advice blog run by the visually impaired/blind person who makes posts on how to write blind characters. Those are my most popular posts. But I don’t talk as much about my personal experiences with blindness. So, here’s some of that.

I talk about the mourning period some people go through when they suddenly have a new disability, mourning the life they had before the disability and all the things they could do before but can’t do now.

For a lot of people that mourning period is depression. But saying that depression is the only form of a mourning period is a disservice and it actually hurt me in the long run to believe that.

The mourning period can take many forms, and a lot of it depends on how you got the disability, where you are in your life currently, and what your mental state was like before the disability.

Some forms are: PTSD, Anxiety, physical health issues such as fatigue, insomnia, oversleeping, anger, denial, emotional suppression followed by outbursts or emotional breakdowns. That’s off the top of my sleep deprived mind at least.

My personal experience of the mourning period was developing (redeveloping?) an anxiety disorder.

This is going to get long, but please keep reading. It’s important.

I had (and still would have had even if I never went blind) at least some anxiety. I thought it was social anxiety, but I would say it was more generalized anxiety, it’s just that the social aspect was what I was most concerned with when I got my diagnosis at age fifteen.

Uh, mental health history? I’ve had lifelong insomnia and anxiety and have struggled off and on with depression. I also might have had some PTSD in the past, though it was never diagnosed. I also have ADHD but I didn’t know that or get diagnosed until this past year, 2019.

I started noticeably going blind at the age of 22. I’d always needed glasses, but I was never (in italics) blind. Glasses always corrected to 20/20 until I was 22. I would like to mention that I started showing symptoms of vision issues at the age of 20, and at the time they were of some concern but I didn’t realize how concerning they were until I turned 22.

At age 22 I started getting shuffled around doctors office after doctors office. I wanted a diagnosis and to know if I would lose more vision. My mom wanted to help fix me. I did not want to be fixed. I’m not sure exactly why, but I didn’t want to be fixed. I was fine with it. At least, I thought I was.

Truth be told, I needed a cane when I was 20/21. I’m day blind and it began putting me in danger when I was 20/21, and I would need a sighted guide (usually my best friend) during the day time.

A quick note on day blindness: In situations with bright lighting, mostly outside during the day, as the name suggests, I am at my most blind. My eyes just don’t know how to process light. They take in too much light. Don’t know why. But image it’s like a camera and if it takes in too much light and becomes over exposed, the photograph becomes distorted and almost white. Literally take a photo of outside and use a photo editing app to turn the exposure as high up as possible. That’s me. Try navigating in that. Also bright light causes me awful, intense, never ending pain. I have to wear sunglasses outside to minimize the pain. The darker the better, but even the darkest lenses don’t completely take away the pain.

Back on topic-

And at 22, with enough vision loss, I decided it was “okay” for me to get a cane. I’d needed it for two years, but I waited because medically and legally I couldn’t be considered visually impaired, let alone legally blind, even though I had a whole section of the day, literally half the day every day, where I could expect to be 50-90% completely blind with white vision the second I stepped outside.

Which is why I get so pissy at the idea of “legal blindness” and letting sighted people determine what is blind and not blind and who gets aide and who doesn’t.

I wanted to get a cane. My mom said no. I was giving into my blindness too early. We could still get a doctor to solve all my problems. There had to be some surgery (which terrified me) to make me see normally again. But I didn’t think a doctor could cure what was wrong with me, and I was still terrified to go anywhere alone.

School was some kind of hell that year.

Seven months after doctors noticed I couldn’t see 20/20 with correction anymore, when I was starting to see 20/50 with best correction, I had an accident.

I was walking through a parking lot at two in the afternoon. It was October. It was bright out because I live in Southern California. I was following a friend. My whole method of travel was to walk one step behind and one step to the left or right of whoever I was with and stare at the ground hoping I could see their shoes and to listen for anything important. Not safe. Very bad.

And the world went blank.

I couldn’t see a thing.

I knew where I was. There was a building in front of me and I knew that as soon as I was in it’s shadow I would see more.

But the curb came before the shadow and I tripped. 

I fell without seeing where I was falling.

It was terrifying.

I was fine. Ish. Fine-ish. My knees were both bloody and swollen for a week. I had scars from that for eight months. My palms were scraped to hell. I was limping. Nobody saw the blood because I was wearing pants and I still started bleeding at my knees.

I went home less than an hour later. Saw my bloody knees and marched to my mom and demanded I get a cane.

She had already just had a panic attack. I didn’t know that. I don’t know what caused it, but it was good timing because for once she didn’t fight it. I ordered my cane. And two weeks after I ordered it, it finally came. And that first day I noticed that having it made me feel safer. I knew that (finally) I wasn’t completely helpless, at the mercy of whoever was with me and whatever circumstances I was in. I had a bit of safety to help me find all the things I couldn’t see but could get hurt on. Like curbs.

It’s been two years, to the day I think, since I got it. I had just gotten it before Halloween and was still getting used to it and how differently people treated me on Halloween night. Halloween in 2017, and now it’s the 28th of October in 2019 as I’m writing this.

So, what happened to me was I was waiting for the mourning period to be a period of depression.

But instead it was anxiety, and possibly PTSD.

Leaving my house was terrifying. Any time I was out in public I was hyper vigilant of everything happening around me, especially if I couldn’t see it. Loud and sudden sounds made me jump. I would tense up. I couldn’t think. Sometimes headphones was my only way to calm down.

That was my mourning period. But I didn’t understand that until a few months ago when I was writing a chapter from Ulric’s perspective (Ulric is my blind character in A Witch’s Memory, a novel I’m currently editing). In the chapter I was writing about the mourning period and how he experienced it. Depression would be very in character for him. And he already has PTSD and anxiety too.

But then I realized my anxiety disorder (generalized anxiety disorder) was my mourning period.

Actually, a lot of my experience with vision loss snuck into that story. Including Ulric fighting to get his parents to accept that he was blind and that he didn’t want to be cured because the cure had its own cost. And his fight to get his cane and orientation and mobility training.

That was my mourning period. I wish at the time I knew depression wasn’t the only sign of it. It might have led to me getting therapy or treatment earlier. But it’s too late to change that.

Maybe reading this will help someone else.

It’s getting late. I’m going to reread this and check for spelling errors, and then I’m going to post it before I chicken out. Goodnight.

Fantober 2020, Day 12: Enchanted Forest

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 12/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,799 Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Human!Makoto, Elf!Haru, First Meeting, Magic, Fluff Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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Tired and worn-out from his travels, Makoto weaved through the dark woods in search of a place to camp out for the night. Preferably at a river or a creek, somewhere he could refill his flasks and wash his face. His horse was starting to lose speed, so hopefully, he would find a good spot before she had to give in to exhaustion.

Then, the sound of running water drowned out the symphony of owls and crickets. He followed it and to his delight, he stumbled upon a glade at the bottom of a cliff. A pristine waterfall cascaded down the rocks, flowing down into a moderately-sized lake.

Relief engulfed Makoto from within and he leapt off his horse, guiding her over to the edge of the lake so she could drink from it. He kneeled and peered into the water. Moonlight shimmered on the surface, illuminating every droplet. Never before had Makoto seen such clean water; there were no fish or algae in the lake, not as much as a leaf or a branch floating down the stream or caught on the sides. It seemed almost divine and the mere sight of it made his scratchy throat even drier.

He cupped his hands and let the water flood his palms, gratefully drinking as much as he could get. The water tasted even better than it looked, fresh and crisp like it rejuvenated him from the inside.

Once he'd quenched his thirst, Makoto checked the trees to see if anyone was around. When he was sure the coast was clear, he disrobed himself and dove into the water headfirst.

When he broke through the surface, he felt reborn. The fatigue and strain of his travels slipped off him, leaving nothing but contentment and serenity in his heart. Although he was miles removed from home, Makoto had never felt quite as comfortable as he did within this lake.

Alas, this feeling did not last.

A shadow moved behind the waterfall and Makoto let out a strangled screech, hastily covering his nude chest. Through the stream emerged a man, someone whose presence he hadn't noticed before.

Fear spread through Makoto's body like he'd been hit with a poison-tipped arrow; he was alone in the dark forest in a rather compromising position. Even if he hadn't been, he was not exactly the type suited for combat anyway and he saw no opportunity to make a quick escape.

But when the man stepped forward and the moonlight showered over his face, Makoto's fear evaporated.

Long, dark robes that reached down to the ground were wrapped around his slender body. Pointed ears poked through a curtain of dark hair, framing his small face. His features were soft and elegant and his pale skin contrasted the darkness of the night. But the most mesmerising parts of him were his eyes, blue and piercing. Like he could peer straight into the past, present and future.

Elves were rumoured to be gorgeous and although Makoto had never seen one in person, he was certain this man was among the most beautiful in their entire species. His appearance made him forget about the world around him, enchanted by a single glance.

But then, the elf's expression shifted, from neutral to confused. Or rather, shocked.

"Who are you?" he said, and despite the vibrant distress in his tone, his voice had a calming effect on Makoto. "How did you find this place?"

"Oh, um I," Makoto stuttered, unsure which question to answer first. "I was looking for a place to rest for the night. I heard the waterfall, so I followed the sound and it brought me here."

"Impossible."

"Sorry, am I not supposed to be here?" Perhaps he was trespassing on elven territory without his awareness. "If that's the case, I'll leave immediately. I don't mean to cause any trouble."

The elf seemed to be at a loss for words and the uncomfortable, misplaced feeling in Makoto's stomach grew.

"The water…" the elf said after a brief pause, "did you drink from it?"

"Yeah," Makoto said, cowering into himself like he was being scolded by his mother. "My horse did, too. Is that bad?"

A loud groan left the elf's lips and before Makoto could blink, his robes were flying through the air and water splashed upwards, sending ripples of waves throughout the lake. He emerged right in front of Makoto's nose, shaking the beads from his hair.

It startled Makoto and heat warmed his cheeks when he realised how clear the water was and how he was still very much naked. The look inside the elf's eyes was fierce and sharp and Makoto wasn't quite sure whether he should be embarrassed or scared.

"Listen, if I did something that I shouldn't have, then I sincerely apologise," Makoto said, frantically waving his hands as if to prove his innocence. "Please believe me when I say that I had no ill intentions. I just wanted to wash up and fill my flasks, I meant no harm."

After another second of staring in scrutiny, the elf relented. "I believe you. What's your name?"

"Makoto. And yours?"

"I'm Haruka. Haru," the elf said. "Say, Makoto, you have no idea where you are, do you?"

"Not a clue." Makoto sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck.

"This is the Sacred Moon Spring. Every droplet of this spring has been infused with ancient magic and every full moon, its magical properties are replenished and the water is at its most powerful." Haruka looked up at the sky and Makoto followed his line of vision; the moon was large and round, standing out brightly between the trees.

This was not good. No wonder he felt so refreshed. "We drank from the sacred, magic water…" Makoto stated the obvious. "So, what happens now?"

"I don't know. My clan has been guarding this spring for centuries, but no human has ever come near here, let alone drank from the water," Haruka said, "To be honest, I'm not sure how you even found this place. There's a protective spell around this area, a barrier that's supposed to keep all non-elven creatures out. Not even birds or deer can pass through."

"Oh," Makoto said, drawing circles on the surface with his fingers, "Well, there's this story in my family that my mother's great-great-grandmother was a Woodland Elf, but I always thought that was just a tale. Do you think it could be true?"

Haruka shrugged. "I guess it is. I don't have any other explanation why you would be allowed to pass through. The barrier must've detected elven blood in you."

"But there's so much more human blood in me, and I don't look like an elf at all."

"You don't," Haruka said as he took a step closer. "But your eyes do."

Makoto frowned. "My eyes?"

"Hm. They're… vibrant." When Haruka noticed how close he'd gotten and how breathy his voice had been, he blushed all the way up to his ears and increased the distance between their bodies. The pink hue looked immensely cute against his pearly skin. He coughed and tried to regain his aloof demeanour. "So, I suppose you are a descendent of a Woodland Elf."

"But what about my horse? I don't think she had a great-great-grandmother who was an elf."

"Were you riding her when you arrived here?" When Makoto nodded, Haruka said, "Then that's why. You lead her here, and your authority granted her permission to pass through, too."

That did make sense, as much as any of this magical spring situation could. Maybe there was an off chance he had bumped his head against a low hanging branch and was hallucinating, or maybe he fell asleep beneath a willow and this was all a dream. But was his simple mind truly capable of conjuring up something so fantastical, or someone as beautiful as Haruka?

Ashamed of his thoughts, Makoto said, "If I'm not supposed to be here, then I shall leave. I wouldn't want to disturb the balance of this place."

"You can stay, if you'd like," Haruka said, brushing his fringe back to appear nonchalant, "if the barrier let you through, then I see no reason to reject your presence."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on this sacred place. If there's a barrier to keep humans out, then I can't imagine it's okay for a human to bathe himself in this water."

"As the guardian of this sacred place, I'm sure," Haruka said, "To be honest with you, no one is allowed to touch this water with their bare hands, not even I. It's used in important rituals in my clan."

"Then I should get out! I'm so sorry," Makoto said in a combination of disbelief and panic; Haruka didn't seem to care, but the last thing he wanted was to be struck with an elven curse if anyone else found out.

A hand on his shoulder held him back. It was small and felt cold, yet it also emitted a strange sort of heat.

"You already touched it and drank from it, so I don't see why I would send you away now. The water is already contaminated, and truthfully, it was long before you even got here."

"What do you mean?"

"How could I guard such a beautiful spring without going for a swim every night? There truly is no water like it." For a second, a hint of an adorable smile was visible on Haruka's face before he let himself fall backwards underwater and Makoto couldn't help but laugh. Haruka was the first elf he'd ever met and a rather odd one at that, but Makoto had an inkling they were going to get along very well.

All throughout the night, Makoto stayed inside the spring and talked with Haruka while floating beside him. They discussed their everyday lives, Makoto's family and his apprenticeship at a blacksmith a couple of towns away from his home, Haruka's clan and their traditions - and Haruka's disinterest in adhering to them -, how Haruka became the guardian of the spring and what effects the water could possibly have on Makoto and his horse.

The hours flew by and Makoto completely lost himself in their conversations and in Haruka. He didn't sleep a wink, but the water energised him like no amount of rest could and there was nothing that could whisk him away from this place. That wasn't because of elven magic, though, but because of Haruka. Makoto's suspicions were confirmed; Haruka turned out to be just as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside.

Many things about his future were uncertain now, but there was one thing Makoto knew for sure: this would not be the last night Haruka and he spent together.

Writing Characters with Depression

Ah, mental illness representation! So accurate and diverse!

Said no one ever.

Depression is one of the mental illnesses that are slowly entering the mainstream and becoming less stigmatised. Still, media and literature get a lot of things wrong. You're reading this, so clearly you're interested in what they're doing wrong, so you don't do it. You want to give me a well-rounded amazing character with depression in which we can feel represented, right? WELL, THANKS ANGEL, LET ME HELP YOU.

A couple of things before we start:

‌This is mostly based on personal experience. Mental illness manifests and feels different for different people, so always aim to have a variety of perspectives.

‌Trigger Warning: We're going to discuss some aspects about depression that might upset and hit too close to home to some people, so proceed with caution.

‌I'm not going to go into detail about the symptons, causes and treatment, as this is not a medical manual, but a writing guide. So we'll be focusing more about positive characterisation of people with depression in literature/media.

Let's get to it. And why you're at it, have a Malteeser for everytime I say the D word here.

How depression might feel for someone who has it:

‌Lack of energy

‌A feeling of constant fatigue

‌Hopelessness, thinking things are never going to get better

‌Losing interest in things, even things you used to love

‌Inability to concentrate, even on simple tasks like reading something or watching a tv show

‌Not seeing the point of living

‌Feeling like everything bad that happens is your fault

‌Seeing things in a negative light

‌A lack of self-esteem and self-worth

‌Loss of sex drive

‌Feeling irritable

‌Feeling suicidal

How can it manifest?

‌Sleeping too much or too little

‌Eating too much or nothing at all

‌Being self-deprecating, even if it's in a funny way

‌Withdrawing oneself from social activities

‌Moving and talking slowly

‌Neglecting one's appearance, ie. Not showering in days, not brushing your teeth, wearing the same clothes over and over

‌Abusing substances like alcohol, weed

‌Self-harming

‌Quitting your hobbies

‌Having a messy room, or leaving dishes pile up as you're unable to perform everyday taks

‌Quick to snap and get irritable

This list is not exhaustive, and it's also good to do some research, but these are some clear common signs!

Now, let's go for the bad examples:

Common tropes of characters with depression that make me want to throw away the book/tv to the bin

‌The Oscar the Grouch type: Nothing will make this character smile. They are determined to be a negative nelly and have a big black cloud over their heads.

‌The Sleeping Beauty: how do we know they have depression? Well... They're in bed. People with depression spend all their time in bed, right?

‌The Emo Teen: they wear black, they have studded belts, they wear stripes and eyeliner and listen to MCR, and have a monotone voice... That means they're depressed, right?

‌The eDgY eDgE eDgEdton: Omg, they're depressed, that's so edgy and cool. They wear flannel and write angsty song lyrics with their marker over the wall. They flip tables and cry handsomely while smoking weed. That's depression, right?

‌The Undestructible Teen: Life is tough, parents are getting divorced and Jason has left us for stupid Leyla, but let's not address our problems. We'll cure our depression instead by partying everyday and chugging a bottle of vodka. Oh-oh, have we drunk too much? No worries! There are no consequences to our actions or any long-term impact to our health. We just need the Sensible Friend™ to call us out and we'll grow out of our depression, which brings me to...

‌The Miracle: Did they have depression in episode 1? Well, THEY'RE CURED NOW! And all they had to do is just a little pep talk and get out of bed!

WELL, TO THE RUBBISH BIN TO ALL OF YOU, OFF YOU GO!

Things to take into account when writing depression:

‌Depression is an illness, not a character trait. Although it's true that it shapes the way you think and view the world, depression doesn't define your identity, and people with depression have a personality outside of their mental illness.

‌There are many different types of depression. There is depression with psychosis, there is unipolar depression and then if it's paired with episodes of mania it's called bipolar disorder (comment if you'd like a post on that!). Also, depression can mix differently with other mental illnesses, such as anxiety disorders. Unipolar depression is quite common, but other types need more positive representation too!

‌People with depression still have sense of humour. In fact, some people with depression are actually some of the funniest people. Although depression can make you see everything in a negative light, humour is one of the best coping mechanisms. It can serve as a waybof deflecting attention from themselves so their loved ones don't get worried or making people laugh is the only thing that can lift up their mood. Whatever it is, characters with depression can still be the life of the party.

‌There is not only one way of going through depression. Some people are bed-ridden and have a complete lack of energy, but some people seem to be quite high-functioning, go to work, do the groceries, but feel miserable inside. Some people might even go through both things through their lifetime. The point is that depression affects everyone differently, and it varies according to the type of depression you have, your life situation, and even the stage in which you're in.

‌It's not just sadness. Sometimes, it's not sadness at all. It might be lack of energy, hopelessness, a sense of losing direction and purpose, and in the darkest of times, losing the will to live, to keep fighting. It's important to understand the spectrum of emotions if you're writing a character witj depression and not reduce it to just "a bad mood".

‌Depression is not always due to trauma. The majority of the stories of depression we hear is a person reacting to a major life event: the death of a relative, parents divorcing, losing a job... But sometimes there is not a real life trigger from depression. Sometimes, it's a chemistry imbalance or simply a hereditary cause (attach link). Some people with depression lead stable lives surrounded by loving people and still have the illness, and this creates a feeling of frustration and self-blame, because you feel you might be at fault for being depressed. This is something a lot of people with depression struggle with, but it's not widely talked about.

Okay, Rogue, so how do I write a character with depression?

Well, my little sweetling, let's do some Dos and Don'ts:

Dos:

‌Wonder why you want to write a character with depression. Is it to start a conversation? Is it to provide visibility and representation to the illness? Is it to show how the plot struggles have affected your character? Or is it just to give them "an edge" or make them somewhat interesting? Misrepresentation can be as bad as lack thereof so make sure you're doing it for good reasons.

‌Read own voices books and testimonials about people with the illness. When writing mental illness, most people go to the symptoms page on Wikipedia, but never think to research about how people affected by depression experience it. This will give you a bigger scope on all the different ways depression can affect a person, and will make your character less of a "manual mental illness" type.

‌Create hope for this character. Yes, things can go wrong when you have a mental illness, and suicide rates are high for people affected by them. We know those stories, and they are necessary that we're aware of them. But we also need positive stories. Chances are, someone with depression will read your story, and to see s character with a happy ending can give them a glimmer of hope that is so much needed during dark times. We need more positive stories about mental illness.

‌Use trigger warnings. Some aspects about depression (self-harm, suicide, substance abuse...) can hit too close to home for some people. It's important you warn your readers.

‌Make them interesting, please! Depression does not equal boring. Make them charming and funny and still hopeless, make them be surrounded by loving relatives and still feel miserable, make them be the most helpful friend or loving daughter and still be unable to help themselves. Giving a character depression is not going to be enough to make them interesting, so make sure they have a well-rounded personality.

Don'ts:

‌Romanticise the illness. Do you think depression is lying in your bed in your black clothes listening to Nirvana on loop? Then you're very far off. Although I previously mentioned depression looks different from everyone, things are likely to get ugly. Depression is more than drawing angsty black ink portraits in your sketch pad. It's having your eyes dry and hurt from staring at your phone screen all day. It's your bones aching from sitting on the sofa until 3am dying for some sleep yet being unable to move yourself to bed. It's blood streaming down the sink from brushing your teeth after not brushing them in days. It's the stale smell of the tracksuit bottoms you'be been wearing for weeks. It's your hair feeling like cardboard from all the product and dirt that's been accumulated after not showering for days. Yes, this all sounds tough, but that's because depression is tough and ugly for those who go through it. Show it.

‌Bash on medication. Some people take it, some people don't, but being negative about it in your content can put people off it, people who might actually need it.

‌Have the character "grow out of it". If they have depression in chapter one, they're very likely to have depression in chapter 10, or even in book 2. They might learn coping mechanisms along the way, but depression can take months, or even years to treat, so we won't believe you if you say they've been cured in 3 days. Or maybe:

‌They were depressed, but they have to save the world, so they grew out of it. Yeah, right mate, like if pep talks were that useful people would spend loads of money on therapy and medication. Riiiight. Your hero might eventually get up and save the world, but the depression will still be there, it won't get cured by saving the planet, it will be waiting for them at the end of the road, so be ready to write that.

‌Cure the character with a love interest. Ah, they had depression, until she came to their life. Now they are cured by love! Nah, mate, they will still struggle with depression even when they're madly in love with the most perfect love interest. Some people with depression have loving stable relationships, so this trope makes no sense.

In conclusion / TLDR:

‌Depression has a lot of different faces, not everyone experiences it the same way or is affected by it the same way.

‌It's not always triggered by life events; sometimes you get it and that's it.

‌It's more than just feeling sad.

‌Some people are quite high-functioning despite suffering from it.

‌Don't glamorise: show the good, the bad and the ugly.

‌Be consistent: if they're depressed in chapter 1, they won't be able to grow out of it in chapter 2.

‌Don't be negative about medication or therapy.

‌Use TWs for sensitive content.

‌Tell positive stories and give a glimmer of hope.

Wow! That's a lot, isn't it? You're probably thinking "this is hard to write!", and that's because it is. This is why I asked you to think why you want to do this. Hopefully it didn't put you off and you still want to give the community some good representation.

Anything I left behind? Any more posts like this you'd like to see? Hit me up with comments!

Good luck with your writing and please, hit me up with any questions or talk to me about your OCs and WIP about mental illness. Peace!

Useful links:

Nhs website on depression

Mind guide for depression

If you're struggling and need someone to talk to

Headcanons. Founders trio. What if their femso was someone they had initially rejected? But then they realised they love her after she moves onto another man who treats her terribly.

Hey Anon! This is really, very, truly every so long…I really hope this is okay. I really liked your ask and just sort of ran with it. So we’ve crossed Headcanons, away from scenarios and I’m pretty sure that this would be classified as an abridged fic…sorry about that…Anyway… added an undercut because of length but I really hope you like it! ~Admin Little Lace 🎀

Hashirama

“I love you Senju-sama,” the girl said bowing, the posture covering the reddening of her face. At such an honest admission, Hashirama grimaced knowing his answer was not in her favor.

Hashirama had known the girl most of his life. A playmate of Itama, she and her clan were allies to the Senju cause. He had always known her to be a quiet mousey thing. Shy but always very sweet, smiling at him whenever their paths would cross.

So it hurt him to be the reason that her sweet expression faded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his words causing her head to pop up, wide eyes looking to him. “But I cannot accept.”

Hashirama is genuinely upset about not accepting. Not just because he is hurting her, but he does have some feeling toward her. It isn’t quite as deep as hers, however  he has known her long enough that he does care for her with emotion deeper than familial

The eldest Senju only denied her because he doesn’t want her to lose him much like they had Itama. The loss of her best friend and his brother hit her especially hard. The loneliness he suspects is the reason for her admission to him.

Though its hard for him he denies her. The rejection sets the two of them apart. Hashirama finds it best not to interact with her, not wanting to see the hurt he caused displaying on her face.

As the warring nations come to an agreement and the Village Hidden in the Leaves is brought to fruition, does he see her again. When the clans all come to call the village home, he see her. The same girl who would smile sweetly when they met, now all grown up and all together different.

Although, she had known to be more introverted, the girl had an adventurous side. She and Itama always in some sort of trouble. But as he watches her, he notices she is a little distant. War changes everyone that much is certain. And yet with her it is unsettling.

The girl keeps to the edges of cowards and seemingly separates herself from other friends she had. Hashirama, believing her to have some of “Battle Fatigue”, reaches out to her for the first time in years.

“Hello,” the dark haired Senju greeted jovially, not missing the flinch in her being.“Oh, um, hello Senju-sama,” she near mumbles bowing to him, her formality troubling. “What do I owe the pleasure of your company?”“My company?” his voice filled with laughter. “No need to be so formal,” the smile he gave not returned. Her eyes flickered around them, it wasn’t the look of a shinobi weary of attack,, but of prey in search of a predator. “Are you alright?”Nothing, nothing is wrong.” the answer too quick.“I didn’t ask you that-”“I have to go, Senju-sama,” the young lady dropped into another bow before just as quickly departing.

Her strange behavior only draws him to check on her. The man is a nurturer by nature. Always wanting to help and aid those he cared for. The once Kunoichi is no different, even if she makes his chest feel light and bubbly. The village leader tamps down the feeling, taking care of her is what Itama would have wanted. All the surfacing feelings doing wrong toward his memory.

The more he interacts with her, short conversations, and trading nods when passing, he begins to see interesting details about the family friend.

His companion tends to flinch if a hand is raised near her. The reflexive action shown to the eldest Senju when he rose a hand in greeting. A simply lifting of his hand sent her back pedaling away from him.

That wasn’t the only thing, her clothing had changed. Her boyish battle attire, with short pants and mesh was replaced with long flowing yukatas that she seemingly kept tripping over. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the sight, they were very becoming on her. But no matter how much he liked them, she looked increasingly uncomfortable as she tugged and pulled the garment back into place.

Slowly, the more the two see one another she comes to be the girl he remembered. His heart beat faster when her small shy small retrieved. The smile he catches in the market, slowly blooming as he stops to ask her about her day. The smile that graces him as he pays visit to her clan. And even the small tearful smile  he witnesses as she whispers to her friend’s memory at the Senju memorial.

With every moment they share, he grows more fond of her. Looking forward to every moment they can share together. But as she began to open up to him, suddenly she shut down.

Her frighten being pulled away from him without cause worrying him more. Their path no longer seem to cross, she was avoiding him. The abrupt parting causes him to sulk, his friend on the receiving end.

“She’s avoiding me,” Hashirama sulked, his head hung low as he and his friend made their rounds through the village.“That’s understandable,” Madara offered ignoring his friend’s ‘suffering’. As much as he wished to continue paying no mind to his friend’s mood. He could feel the shifting in the air next to him. Fighting a losing battle, he made eye contact with the elder Senju immediately regretting when he came face to face with signature depressed face. Groaning the Uchiha turned away. “Don’t pout.”“You’re ignoring me too.” the co leader whined tears welling in his eyes. His reactions drawing a bit of a coward. A coward that was giving Madara questioning looks. The attention was making him uncomfortable.“Look,” he said a bit too harshly. “If you are so worried, go check on her yourself. “As if nothing had happened, Hashirama brightened.“That’s a great idea,” he smiled. “I’ll go check on her now.” and with that the Senju marched away leaving behind a confused and deadpanned Uchiha.

With his decision set, he does go to visit her clan, who (as always) happily receive him. The family excited to  their powerful connection has come to wish good will upon their daughter’s upcoming marriage.

The news staggers him, but easily covering his shock,  he asks to see the future bride. Which they gladly accept. Upon seeing the girl, she is not the happy bride.

“I hear congratulations are in order.”But no matter how much he smiles, it doesn’t feel right. The smile forced, and her excitement also seems false.“You must love him,” the dark hair man teased, feeling the heaviness weigh on him. All his light hearted ribs were answered with a shifting of her yukata and shifting glances away from him. Her teeth worrying her lips, concerned him but he continued to try to lift her spirits. “Come now marriage can’t be so bad?”

His smile is returned with a single tear escaping the corner of her eye. The dark haired man took note of this but also that small black and blue spot peeking out from the collar of her clothing. “Yeah,” she answered almost too quietly, “not so bad.”

Although, he wants to investigate the matter, village needs pull him away from her. So he does not get to see her again until the annual festival. Where she is seen with her fiancée. The other shinobi seemingly alright to Hashirama.

The eldest Senju suffers from too big of a heart. His brother and friend not so much. Each of them watching her intended intently. Both of them telling him to go to her.

Madara very inconspicuously.

“Best go give my regards to your lady.”

Tobirama, on the other hand, is a little more forward.

“This is not what Itama would have wanted.”

Hashirama not sure how to process that statement goes to speak with her. But the conversation is railroaded by the girl’s intended.

“Pleasure to meet you,”“She’s told me so much about you,”“We are looking forward to the wedding.”“She’s so excited, aren’t you love?”

That turn of phrase he’s using. “Aren’t you love?” causes the girl to wince before she replaces it with a smile and a strained:

“Yes love,”

Sensing something a miss, he leaves them to their evening but something stays in the back of his mind. Only when he returns to his office do things click for him.

The shinobi often held her upper arm or shoulder. His thumb pressing against a spot on her neck, the spot where he once noticed that dark spot. A bruise…it was a bruise. With a sickening feeling in his stomach he went to the one place he’d know her to be.

“He’s hurting you,” the dark hair Senju spoke frightening his crying friend. The once kunoichi gasping turning from the memorial stone, to him. As a hand reached to adjust her clothing, it was stopped by his. Her eyes met his, letting go at the ask for permission in her eyes. Carefully Hashirama, moved the cloth aside. Dark eyes widened as they traced the path of small finger shaped bruises. They speckled her skin, traveling down her arm in no  particular pattern. Black spots over taken brown and yellow masses. The trend continued over her collar to her back, a fresh one reddening  one forming on her neck. But that wasn’t what had boiled his blood.No, what had driven Hashirama’s vision red, had been a trio of three finger shaped marks. Separated evenly with a bridging of blue as they slowly blackening, they rested just above her chest bindings. The Senju didn’t have to guess how those had gotten there. The only thing stopping him from ending the man’s life was the soft whimpering of her cries.Watching helplessly as her face crumpled under the weight of her despair, he pulled her to him. Unable to bear it any longer he pulled her to him. “I’m so sorry,” Hashirama whispered, into her hair.

She explains to him the situation. The shinobi had saved her life. Being a messenger-nin in a war claimed just as many lives as the front line. Though the one time kunoichi had been careful, she found herself discovered in enemy territory. The man she was now tied to, had come to save her. In exchange for saving her life, she humored his advances.

After a while they became more serious. The man coming to love her and wished to marry her. Feeling indebted to him for saving her, she agreed. When he became cruel to her she tried to leave only to find she was unable to. The man hurting her if she even thought about leaving.

“He calls them his little art works,” she sniffled, “ he gets angry when they fade away.”

The ninja is from an little known clan, new to the village. To further his career he had been taking on longer more difficult missions, allowing for her to be alone. The time coinciding with the times Hashirama saw her around more often. but as soon as her intended returned the man is constantly grabbing her too tight and threatening her. The amount escalating the more Hashirama came around.

“Sometimes I pray that he dies on his mission,” she gave a watery laugh. “I’m horrible, I know.”“You’re not horrible,” the Senju said, running his fingers through her hair.“I just don’t want this,” a sniffle came bringing with it more tears. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.

Hashirama promises to fix this as he returns her home.

Out of all of the village’s founding leaders, the eldest Senju is known as a jovial, sweet soul. He would sooner end his own life than allow someone else to be hurt instead. Most of the citizens of the leaf have seen, and chuckled, at his spontaneous behavior and outburst of depression. The man is seen more as an dear uncle than a fear inducing leader. That was left for Madara.

But that putting someone he cared about in danger that another story entirely. The elder Senju can develop a sense of ruthlessness when any of his loved ones are threatened.

The girl is considered in that category. He cares for her dearly, but he still tries to put back in his mind that this is all for Itama. His fallen brother would not have wanted his best friend to be hurt in such a way.

The justification not stopping the bubbly feeling that welled up in his chest when he thought about her.

Feelings aside, he has to rid her of her Fiancée. Between running the village and teaching, he has his reluctant best friend check in on her. Oddly enough, Madara takes pleasure in giving darks looks to the shinobi.

As the plan is set into motion, both leader’s call the man into their office.

Hashirama and Madara conveniently offer the man a mission to be a new envoy to the forming Nation of Wind. They go on to tell him how wonderful and prestigious the long term mission would be. The man is not thrilled.

“It’s a suicide mission,”

And he isn’t wrong. the clans of the land of wind have been in unrest, a few of which requesting aid to recreate a hidden village of their own. The Leaf have sent 3 envoys, each could no longer continue due to injury or death.

Now it wasn’t as if Hashirama wanted him to die. He’ll admit that he thought about it, but that wasn’t his endgame here.

“No…” the man trailed, a darkness tracing the humored look on his face. “It is difficult, yes, but not suicide. And with your record, we are sure you’d be up to the task.”“Unless you wish to, decline.”

For a shinobi to decline a mission there better be a good reason. Declining a mission simply wasn’t done. To say no was essentially putting yourself before the mission. Your thoughts and feeling above the safety of the village and your family. It was cowardly and came with a social stigma, that no ninja could survive. No one wanted to be on a team with a selfish, self centered person such as that.

“We are being unfair,” the Senju reasoned with the Uchiha. “He wouldn’t want to deny a mission. Not with the new family he is creating.” “Of course if he broke the engagement he wouldn’t need to worry about such a thing.” Madara answered. The statement caught the man’s attention.“What are you implying?” the man dared to ask.“Simple really,”  Hashirama begun, the levity in his tone disconcerting. “You can accept the mission and be more than able to support your new bride. Or deny it and receive all the consequences that comes with that.” Watching the nin pale, the Senju began to smile. His power play aligning. “Of course there is a third option…”“You politely ‘bow out’ of the mission and we forget this conversation, if you end your engagement.” Madara then smiles, the crooked action causing a chill in the air. Realizing he had been caught in a trap the man grows a little red, threatening to blow. But after all they have seen neither leader is afraid.“She’s very important,” Hashirama says smoothly. “And I know how you take care of things that are important to you.”  Darkness had taken over any facet of the usually bright man’s features. “You have your choices. Choose wrong and I promise you if I see her in such a state again, your next assignment will make you beg for the the sand.”

The gamble pays off. No matter how much the man claimed to love her, the threat of death or social isolation could not overcome that.

Being free from such an arrangement the kunoichi is forever grateful. With time, paitence and the support of a certain friend she come back to herself. She even returns to service as a messenger-nin. A job she proudly uses to help serve her heroes.

Over time, Hashirama’s feelings only grow. Feeling not of debt to Itama’s memory, but something a lot more. not being able to hold them back he calls her to the Hokage’s office.

“This is very formal, Hashirama.” she smiled entering the office.“It is an important matter, the man replied standing from his desk. The young lady gave him and questioning look as he made his way over to her. Her expression soon morphed into one of shock as the man bowed to her. the deep waist bow sending her into a frenzy.“Wait…what are you-”“I love you (Name),” the Senju proclaimed, mirroring the long ago day. “I hope that you can accept my feelings.” To his announcement he heard sniffling. Raising his posture, he was soon engulfed in her arms. Hashirama laughed as the girl fell into what he hoped was happy tears. “I take it you accept?” her head nodding into his chest brought a smile to the shinobi’s face.“I love you too,”

Tobirama

“What is this about?” the pale-haired Senju bristled. The kunoichi before him was keeping him from his work. He was so close to completing his teleportation jutsu and with the added research he may be about to-“I’m in love with you,” the woman spoke suddenly, the words breaking his thought cycle. Blinking, Tobirama began to question whether he heard her right.“You?”“Love you?” she questions back with a sheeky smile, “Yes.” The shinobi folded his arms leaning back in his chair. This was alot for him to process. She loved him? Why? “So?”“So?” he questioned back to her raising a brow.“Do you accept my feelings?” she lead.“No,”“I thought as much,” she sighed, the smile never faltering. “Thank you for your time.” with a bow and one last smile the kunoichi left him to his work. The younger Senju sat starring out the door that she had left. His head trying to wrap around what had just happened.

The truth of the matter is: Tobirama isn’t sure who she is. The man is so far into his research and training he sometimes doesn’t notice people in the village. His brother had grown used to it. Even his students knew at time getting his attention could be difficult.

So now with some girl confessing her love for him, he realized she escaped his notice. The man wasn’t sure how he felt abut that. A part of him was embarrassed. A great ninja he was trying to be, missed an entire human.

Another, far larger part, was confused. She was in love with him? How could she feel so deeply and he not know her? Had they ever spoken? How long had she been around?

The questions nudge his mind for a while. The nudge grows to a constant pondering, distracting him from his work. Constant pondering evolves into all consuming thought. The stalling in his work forces him to solve the mystery of his admirer. He makes the mistake of asking his elder brother.

“You really don’t know?” Hashirama ask after near whizzing for 5 minutes. His brother glared while the dark haired Senju wiped tears from his eyes. None of this seemed funny to him.

The reason for his  for his older brother’s laughter was simply this: the woman was apart of the newly founded research division. A division, Tobirama himself founded, ergo he had a hand in her appointment to the position….and works along side her.

Even his students know who she is…

Throughly embarrassed and now much more aware, he takes time to notice her. How she always has blank scrolls and his research materials neatly prepared on his desk. Or how eloquent and well thought out her notes are. Even as he spends long nights holed up in his office, he takes realizes how easy she makes the office and research library to navigate. Things he took for granted his assistant had been tending to.

But it isn’t just work related things. He notices her laugh, or how she rest her head on her hand when she is reading. Also how she gives him the same cheeky smile when they lock eyes.

The younger Senju begins to feel foolish for not seeing her. Now he makes more of an effort to speak to her, acknowledging  her presence.

“Thank you,” he said looking up from the latest version of his seal. The girl’s hand stayed on the tea cup looking to him in shock. Snapping into reality she gave him one of her signature smiles.“Anytime.”

There is a part of Tobirama that is till pondering over her admission. It’s not like he is self-conscious or anything. But, to his recollection, he has never interacted with her. So he isn’t entirely sure why she is in love with him. in his mind, you’d have to have had a decent conversation to being love right?

To investigate the theory, he begins to speak with her. the conversations is stiff and either very formal or entirely informational. Usually speaking in such a way would cause any companion to give him a glassy-eyed look. But she engages with a look of wonder and a smile.

A smile he had grown used to. Whenever she returned from missions, handing off info on newly discovered jutsu or bringing him tea on late work nights. Each time she gifts hi one. It had become something he was looking forward to.

Until the day it wasn’t there.

“Good morning,” he greeted to her. Taking her eyes away from her work she nodded, no smile to be seen.“Morning.”

It was small but the interaction bothered him. Deciding against simply asking her about it, the pale-haired Senju decided to do what he did best. Research.

What Tobirama would call ‘research’, other’s would call snooping. Or the beginning stages of stalking. He follows her. As interesting as seeing her out of their work setting is, something he discovers unsettles him.

She now has a significant other. The information shouldn’t bother him. It had been sometime since her confession and his denial. But something about it made him increasingly unsettled about it.

Questions started to buzz around his head once more. Did she love them? How long had they been together? Was she happy? Did she still love him?

The last question he quickly dashed away before focusing on the former. This his research became more extensive. (Stalking…it’s just stalking.) At first he felt wrong about it, her personal like was none of his business. And yet the less she smiled the more he followed.

The other man seemed pleasant enough at first.Holding her hand and joking around wit her. But he noticed how she wouldn’t walk her home. It seemed silly but it was something that got under the stoic man’s skin.

The other man also seem to be half listening to anything she said, and if she spoke for too long he’d berate her with:

“Are you finished yet?”

With each snide remark, and dismissive gesture he could see the light in his girl diminish.

What he couldn’t wrap his head around was why she remained with him if he pushed her away. It didn’t make any sense. Tobirama knew her to be a logical sort wouldn’t reason state that  they weren’t meant to be together?

Due to his stalking research, he can’t come our and ask her about it. So he has to unfortunately wait and watch as she dims.

But he offers to walk her home, stiff postured as they go. He’s not sure what he is doing but she seems to be happier if only slightly.

And then one day during research he witnesses them argue. Well one couldn’t very well call it an argument if one side isn’t saying much at all.

“Kami, no one cares about your stupid scrolls. You embarrass me every time you open your mouth.” the man scoffed  as his girl looked at her feet.“I’m sorry I-”“Stop saying sorry, you’re so annoying.” he continued.“Hey I’m sor- I just don’t-” she stumbled. The intelligent, confident woman, the shinobi knew wasn’t this way. Not tripping over words and red-faced in the middle of the thoroughfare.  “Don’t leave.”“Pfft, I’m not leaving.” Tobirama watched disgustedly as her posture actually eased. “But I should. No man would want to have a girlfriend as pathetic as you.”

Murder is the first thing on Tobirama’s mind. The only thing stopping him is that he couldn’t very well kill a man over words. But that is the final straw.

“Oh,” she sniffled from behind her desk, wiping her eyes, “Senju-Sama I-”“You’re very intelligent. And I enjoy everything you have to say and so do others.” The pale-haired Senju cut in.  His arms crossed over his chest. His taciturn expression covering for his embarrassment. “You are brilliant and beautiful and any man would be lucky to have you as their partner.”The kunoichi’s face lit up pink as she sniffed, wiping away stray tears. “you heard that, huh?”“It was hard not to,” the honesty of his answer causing her to look away. Sensing his chance, he asked the question playing in his mind. “Why would you want to be with such a person?” with a humorless life she shook her head.“He wasn’t always like this…”

The woman tells him that her boyfriend had been nice at first. Being sweet to her after an unfortunate event. He’d made her feel better and taken her out. Said he was fond of her and they began to date. Soon everything that he claimed to like about her seem to make him angry or embarrass him.

After a while she began to believe what he said. At this point in their relationship she felt as if she needed him.

A sinking feeling settled in his chest when Tobirama had put the time line together. Her unfortunate event had been his rejection. A rejection he was now regretting as his feelings came into bloom.

“It’s silly, but I’m just hoping he’ll be like he was int he beginning. Work must be stressing him out.” The thoughtfulness in her tone sought to enrage him.“He won’t change,” the shinobi corrected. “I now you are smart enough to see that,”  with that he left refusing to entertain such foolishness.

Tobirama doesn’t want her to hurt. that is the last thing he wants. So  if she wants to be happy with this man, who is ‘under stress’, he’ll confront the man. Just to see how stressed he really is.

Going to speak with him involves the stoic man witnessing the girl’s significant other aggressively flirting with some other woman. Gracefully, without hitting the man, the second to the Hokage confront him about his behaviors. Only to be laughed at.

“Why do you care? Weren’t you the one who rejected her?” The man asked daring to laugh at him. Still remaining the better person Tobirama made to leave, the stern words of “Treat her better,” in his wake. he hadn’t gotten very far when the man added.“You lucked out, had I known she was this annoying I would have rejected her too.”

The man, though brave, is not a shinobi. For if he was he would have understood the reputation the Senju had. If he was he may have had the level of self-preservation to have shut his mouth. but since he wasn’t he found himself unconscious on the floor.

Tobirama if not a very emotional person. He is not very in touch with his feelings. So sometimes they all come out at once. In this case in a punch his opponent had not seen coming.

Is he ashamed? A little, he never liked losing control. Does he regret it? No, not at all.

After ‘the happening’, his assistant comes up to him in their office.

“I heard about what happened.”“And?”“Thank you,”“Anytime.”

Things stay the same for the two. Both of them falling into harmony they had built. But now it would seem she couldn’t walk home without him taking her. He often takes her out to eat as well.

Slowly the smile he loves returns, as she acts more like herself in his company. the man going out of his way to spend time with her. One day she asks:

“Why are you spending so much time with me?” the question coming over their shared dinner at a small eatery.“Because I enjoy it,”  he answered pointedly not looking at her. Even without looking at her, he could hear the smile she gave. “It goes both ways,”‘ he responded sounding grumpy into his rice.“Well I love you, I’d hope I enjoyed spending time with you.” those three words had not been mentioned since her initial confession. They brought to mind an unanswered question.“Why?”“Why?” she echoed before giving a look he had never seen before. She was blushing. “Well, I love how smart you are. Everything makes so much sense when you explain it. I love how you are with your students. Those kids are going to be fine shinobi under your care,” a thought bringing a chuckled from her. “if they survive your lessons. I love how you are with your brother,” the very mention of the man brought on an eye roll from him. “I know you care, You going out of your way to help him is amazing. but What I think I love most is your smile.” Her final reason brought him pause. His smile?“I’ve only ever seen it once, but when I first saw it that’s when I knew.” the dreamy look in her eyes faded as focus snapped to him. “Oh…um…I’m sorry, rambling again.” she apologized red-faced. “I guess what I mean to say is I love you for a lot or reasons.”Tobirama nodded returning to his food. The ever present heart beat, pounding incessantly  in his throat. Breath seemed hard to catch. Almost too quietly he said, near breathlessly. “I love you too.”

Madara

“Um…Madara-San?” she asked tapping his shoulder. the Uchiha turned, his attention to the girl. Her face burning as she held out a red note. Giving her an odd look he took it before she ran off. Unfolding the missive, exception some sort of emergency information from Hashirama, Madara read it. Dark eyes widened as the words came to light.

I love you, I have for a while not. If you feel the same, please meet me at the old tree near the training ground.

Speechless the dark haired man folded up the letter, placing it in the pocking hidden by his chest.

Madara never goes to meet her.  It isn’t as if he doesn’t know the girl. the war time orphan that had taken up ranks within the Senju. He was well aware of her, the girl often found training with Hashirama.

As a matter of fact she was never very far from Hashirama. The Senju’s eye sparkling and showering her with praise whenever she so much as blinked correctly. There hadn’t been a day gone by that his friend didn’t speak of the girl to him.

“Her training is progressing beautifully.“She has a chakra affinity of fire, like you.”“Her Taijutsu could use some work, you could help.”“You two would make good training partners.”

The near daily reminder of how highly the man thought of the girl was driving the man mad. But also clearly spoke of how he felt. Only speaking of his brother in such a fashion, it became apparent to the Uchiha that Hashirama was in love with her.

Not wanting to hurt his friends, or see him pout, he thought to leave it as it was. Best not get the girl’s hopes up by only to dash them upon arrival.

Not matter what was said about his clan, Madara was not heartless. e liked the girl. Through their training together and various conversations, he found her company enjoyable. Once could even say he had grown attached.

But his feelings, whatever they were, could not manifest any further while his best, and near only, friend held a candle for her. He would not test their friendship over and infatuation with her.

With his vow not to pursue her set, Madara tries not to interact with her. Trying his best not to foster anything between them. His plan seems to work as his distance pairs her with Hashirama. The elder Senju spending more time with her.

The distance wears on the Uchiha though. Not one to generally open up to people, the loss of his training partner is a shock to his social system. Thus making him a bit less of himself.

The cycle of loneliness  would continue until his friend comes to him.

“I don’t like him, the snippet of Hashirama’s words came. Effectively breaking though Madara’s concentration. “Who?” the bushy-haired man asked, his meditation coming to an end.“Weren’t you listening?”“No,”“You never listen to me,” the Senju clan leader sulked, now sitting in fetal position. Unfortunately foe him, the Uchiha would have to entertain such behavior if he wanted answers.“On with it man,” he was not in the mood for idle gossip. But if the big hearted Hashirama Senju didn’t like someone, the information had to be worth listening to.“(Name)’s new suitor,”“Suitor?” Madara no longer pretended t be disinterested. she had someone else? Well, it would be no wonder his friend didn’t like the man.“Yes, he’s a snake,” he grumbled, “I don’t like him.”“Can’t be too bad,”“Can’t be trusted, the dark hair Senju said pensively. “I don’t like him.”“So you’ve said.”“You’d say the same if you’d met him.”“Why because he isn’t you?” A pause came before his friend unceremoniously broke into laughter. Madara knew it wasn’t funny. “Aren’t you in love with her?”The laughing goes on for quite a while. Longer than the Uchiha is comfortable with. Thankfully when eh is finally done laughing, Hashirama explains.“Don’t be silly, she’s like a sister. No friend, she’s in love with you.”

The informations confuses Madara. and only seems to make the elder Senju laugh more as eh explains all of what he had done had been for his friend’s benefit. Fruitless as it had turned out.

Angered with himself, the Uchiha instead turns to her confirming his thoughts.

“You’re in love with him?” the man asks, his abrupt entrance into the training fields causing the girl to jump.“Oh…um… I’m sorry? I-”“You have a new intended?”“Yes?” the rapid fire questions confusing her.“Do you love him?”“Well… I-” she stammered. The sudden interrogation seemed to be a  bit much for the girl. “Not yet, he’s very nice and he loves me.”“Hm.” he answered monosyllabically. “Training tomorrow, same time.

The Uchiha believes the matter to be settled. In his head if the matter is settled, they can go back to life as usual, evening training and speaking regularly again. Over time he even feels comfortable enough to seek her out, meeting outside of their schedule times. The man wants her company again, emotions be damned.

Madara isn’t one fore  the petty emotions like “love” or “jealousy”. Plus it isnt as if she is still in love with him.

Though the may not claim any feeling toward her, he can’t help them sneaking up on him as he new beau comes to her after training.

Just as the Senju, he senses something a miss with the other man. Sure he is nice enough and comes across as in love with the kunoichi, his words and actions bring unease to the Uchiha leader.

The man comes earlier and earlier to their training.Going from picking her up to near supervising. The constant vigilance throwing the girl out of focus. The distractions allowing for mistakes and life threatening missteps.

The man also seems to be little her efforts with her training. Not outwardly but more that once the shinobi catches:

“Training isn’t that important right?”

Foolish words always covered by.

“I just want to spend more time with you. I love you.”

That last bit. the words “I love you,” had been flung around a bit to liberally for Madara’s test. They were endearing or heartfelt. They were almost seem to be covering for something or to push her into doing something.

Even if it were something she didn’t want, the other man could breathe those words and she would readily go along with the ideal. The change sickening to her training partner.

The strong kunoichi he knew should not be bowing to a man that she could snap like a twig. But each time he spoke, she would follow.

When she stopped attending training he grows concerned, and seeks her out.

“Retiring?” he was unable to keep the incredulousness out of his voice.“It’s not uncommon, Uchiha-san,” everything about her seemed ‘uncommon’. From her gentle tone, to the way he said his name, everything was wrong. “Most women who participated in the war have retired.”“You mean fought?”“Oh…well yes…that.”“It seems sudden,” he replied trying his best to  angle himself to catch her eyes.“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and he says he’ll take care of me.” The mention of ‘him’ had put an end to it.“Right,” Madara answered, skepticism heavy in his tone.

Madara is not going to question her. Her decision are her own even if he doesn’t agree. If she wishes to retire he isn’t going to stop her, no matter ho many time Hashirama pushes him to.

When she quits teaching however is when the Uchiha has to intercede. She loves her students, the kunoichi continuously speaking of them and what they are learning. Once even asking Madara to join her class.

“They’ll love you, not to worry.”

Though he had never taken up on the offer, he took pleasure in how happy it made her. With the addition of how she was never afraid to speak to the scary looking man.

The new events finds the man at her door but he isn’t alone.

Caged by the body of an unknown man against her door, the Uchiha watched as the man caressed her face and whispered into her ear. He couldn’t quite believe she was the sort to have dalliances with two men. That is until he witnesses the uncomfortable look on his companion’s face.

How she grimaces when the man kisses her cheek and leaver her. Casually as anger would allow, he asks upon her newest suitor, the answer he receives serves to break him.

“No, he’s a friend of my lover, but he seems nice enough and he says that he like me too. He may even love me.”

Sick to his stomach at the new information Madara goes to her “Love,” having questions about his friends that were in love with his so-called love.

Now like Hashirama, Madara’s feelings do sit on the surface. He feels emotions just as deeply but as mastered not expressing them. With years of training, he had learned to cover them up under a scary demeanor he wears.

So when the man and his friends laugh about how each “having a go” with her, it takes all of a few seconds before the floor is speckled with their blood. The altercation couldn’t even be considered a fight.

After carting them off tot he medical building, and receiving a stern “talking to” from Hashirama. (Holding said Senju back when he hears the particulars of the beating, and then both receiving a lecture from Tobirama about tact) the Uchiha returns home to a furious kunoichi.

“What have you done?”

He had never heard her raise her voice, much less raise a fist toward him in anger. Never one to back down from a fight, the two spar, the Uchiha expertly deflecting her haphazard attacks. Not hard to defend, the more emotional she gets, the easier it is for him to pin her.

“He loves me,” she weeped her arms pinned about her head. No matter of struggling was going to get him to let her go.“That’s what you think love is?” though his voice calm, the underling note of fury was palpable. “A man passing you around to his friends?” Madara seethed pressing her into the wall.“How would you know?” she screamed at him, her crying cut off by his lips pressed to hers. The kiss was not gentle, it was harsh like the man. But it didn’t hurt as she had grown used to. There was passion there as he held her, the firm grip on her not to injure or bruise. Breaking away she could see the same breathlessness had over taken him as well.“No man that loved you would want to hurt you.”

As the kunoichi eases back into the life she had known free of the overbearing shadow of her former lover. The emotion-less Uchiha making certain of it. The man grew to be her support, always at her side whenever old feelings or insecurities arose.

Though he may not show it in a traditional sense, he will tell her he cares whenever she asks. Hashirama is better with constant reassurance than Madara.

Yet due to his proximity with her, she attaches herself to him. Although there is a pat of him that knows that the new behavior could bloom to be unhealthy, he does nothing to stop it. If anything he fosters it by walking close to her and letting rumors spread.

It takes baby steps, but with support of her friends she grows not to be so fragile any longer. Her reliance on her friends not as crucial and  she is emotional strong enough to emotional stand on her own. Even with all her strides toward a better self, she remains close to  Madara.

The Uchiha still finds her  to ask her opinion on something, assists her in training, returns to her first when coming from a mission and comes to her class to instruct the little ones. If she finds it strange she doesn’t question it, and he won’t say anything either. The man likes the way things are and prefers to keep it that way.

“I’ll walk her home tonight,” Hashirama offers after class had let out for one evening.“That’s alright,” Madara assured, looking toward his girl. “We will be fine, hm?”“Yes,”  she answered. With a brightness the elder Senju had not seen since her initial rejection, she smiled. As the two walked away, Hashirama noticed as the kunoichi’s have took hold of Madara’s sleeve. His friend then graced her with one of his rare smiles. In that moment, Hashirama had felt he had missed a very key element to the story. Were they…? He couldn’t really say, but with a sly smirk he made his way to his family compound. Thoughts of when, if ever, his friend would admit his feelings flying around in his brain.He suppose he would have to wait, either way, he was taking credit for such a match.

hc- vampiric lore - physical

In Sickness and In Hell -  Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone for your support in this story, it means a lot!

Please be aware I am not a doctor, and there is only so much information you can get off the internet, so if there is any inconsistencies, then they are all mine!

@lurkingwhump , as always, thank you for your help!

Rosie came back about twenty minutes later, carrying a kidney dish full of vials and an IV bag full of saline.

Kurt rubbed Jane's shoulder, sad that he had to wake her so soon. She opened her eyes tiredly, swallowing thickly.

“Just going to take a bit of blood.” Rosie explained to Jane. “You've also been put on nil by mouth so I'm going to set up some saline to start rehydrating you.”

Jane nodded in understanding, too exhausted to speak. With the painkillers dulling the pain somewhat, her fatigue was setting in fast.

Rosie helped her roll onto her back so she had better access to her arm. She took her blood and hung the saline bag above her head, connecting it to her IV. She moved out of the cubicle, returning moments later with a cool washcloth, placing it on Jane's forehead.

Jane sighed, the cold cloth pleasant on her burning skin.

“Can I get you anything else?” Rosie asked.

Jane shook her head softly.

“The doctor said he was going to chart you some more painkillers and antiemetics.” Rosie said. “I'll be back soon.”

“Thank you.” Jane said exhaustively.

The nurse left the cubicle, leaving Jane and Kurt alone again.

“You ok?” Kurt asked.

Jane rolled back onto her side, holding her bloated belly uncomfortably. She blew out a lungful of air.

“I'm ok. The pain’s not as bad.”

“But still not good.” Kurt said knowingly.

She shook her head.

“I just want all of this to be over so we can go home.” she said in a small voice.

Kurt held her hand, giving a tight squeeze in reassurance.

“I know baby.” he said sympathetically. “Let's just get you well first.”

Jane nodded softly, her eyes falling closed again.

“Sleep.” he murmured, turning the washcloth on her forehead over. He leant forward, kissing the corner of her eye.

She smiled softly. Even though she was feeling dreadful, he always knew how to make these types of situations better.

Kurt watched her fall into unconsciousness and sighed at the pain that was still evident on her face. They still had tomorrow off for the long weekend, but he thought he had better let the team know what was going on.

Confident that Jane wasn't going to wake up anytime soon, he stepped out of the cubicle, calling Reade.

“Hey man, how you doing?” Reade asked answering the phone.

“I'm alright.” Kurt replied.

“Really?” Reade asked. “Tasha said you were sick… and you still sound kind of…”

“Jane's in the hospital.” Kurt explained, cutting him off.

“What? What happened?” Reade asked. His voice now had a slight echo to it and Kurt knew he had been put on speaker so Tasha could listen.

“We thought she had just caught my bug.” Kurt said, pinching his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “They think she has pancreatitis.”

“Ouch.” Tasha said, joining the conversation. “How bad is it?”

“We don't know yet.” he admitted. “They've just started running tests… but judging by the pain she's in.. it's pretty bad.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

“What do you guys need?” Reade asked finally. He knew this would be killing his friends, that yet again Jane was sick enough to warrant being in hospital. At least this time imminent death wasn't hanging over their heads.

“I don't know when I'll be back at work… I promised her I wouldn't leave her.” Kurt admitted.

“Take all the time you need.” Reade said without hesitation.

“Thank you.” Kurt said gratefully.

“Kurt?” Tasha asked.

“Yeah?”

“Just make sure you're looking after you.” Was all she said.

Kurt sniffed, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

“Thanks Tasha.” he got out.

“Keep us updated.” Reade said and Kurt disconnected the call.

He sat down in a chair off to the side of the ER, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to get in control of himself. He was physically and emotionally spent. After everything they had already been through, he couldn't believe they were here again. No wonder Jane had been so adamant about staying home.

It was causing him enough stress, he couldn't imagine what it was doing to her.

He looked up, watching the hustle and bustle of hospital life. The ER was busy today, though there didn't seem to be any life threatening emergencies.

He looked over at the cubicle that contained his wife. The curtains were ajar, so he could just make her out through a small gap. She was pale, her face pinched in pain, and even in sleep she was clutching her stomach.

He sighed, the images of her nearly dying playing across his mind. He could see her, struggling to move - struggling to breathe as the ZIP sucked away her remaining life. They had gotten the cure to her without a moment to spare - the doctors had been talking about intubating her. How they had managed to get out of that one… he still wasn't sure.

He could see her, lying in that wooden box, pale, lifeless, cold, dead. Her heart had stopped. Thankfully she had come back after only a couple of rounds of CPR. But that had been too close for his liking. She had been cleared by medical fairly quickly - instructed to stay warm and to follow up with her doctor should she experience any untoward symptoms.

He had nearly lost her twice. In less than a couple of months. And now she was back in hospital. In pain. Unwell. While death may not necessarily be imminent, he knew that pancreatitis was no walk in the park.

What was he going to do with her?

He managed a weak chuckle, before it caught in his throat. Suddenly his mouth was dry and the small distance between them, was way too much for him to bear.

He got up, crossing the room back to her at a near run. Once he was back by her side, her hand clasped in his own, did he feel like he was able to breathe again.

“Kurt?” she asked in a small voice, stirring slightly.

“Yeah I'm here.” he replied, kissing the back of her hand softly.

“What's wrong?” she asked, opening her eyes and seeing the distraught look on his face.

He shook his head.

“Nothing. I'm ok.” he said forcing a small smile.

Jane frowned.

“Kurt.” she said emphatically. “Please don't lie to me.”

He looked down at their hands, unable to meet her eye. He swallowed thickly, trying to get his emotions in check.

“Kurt… please look at me.” she pleaded softly, reaching up to touch his face.

“I'm sorry.” was all he said, still avoiding her gaze.

“Sorry for what?” she pressed.

“I'm sorry that you're here again… that I can't make it better.” He shook his head, a single tear rolled down his face.

Jane pulled herself up into a sitting position, stifling a wince.

“Come here.” she whispered, moving so there was space on the bed for him. He moved onto the bed, allowing his wife to wrap him in her arms. He felt guilty that she was the one who was sick, and yet she was the one comforting him, but he couldn't help the vulnerability that was determined to drown him.

She knew that he was struggling. She had seen it in his face when he had been trying to convince her to go to the hospital.

She kissed his temple, feeling him shuddering in her arms.

“I'm sorry.” he choked out.

“Sshh, it's ok.” she soothed. “I know this is as hard for you as it is for me.”

He sniffed, placing his hand over her heart.

“I guess it all just got a bit too much.” he whispered against her chest.

“I know, my love.” she said. “And again, I'm sorry that you have to watch this. I know how much it hurts you seeing me in pain.”

He took a deep breath.

“Yeah.” he admitted. “I just wish I could take it all away.”

She didn't reply, opting to just hold him.

A few minutes passed and Kurt shifted, deciding he needed to hold her in his arms. She complied, shuffling down the bed so her back was against his chest. Once they were comfortable, Kurt placed his hand on her aching stomach, rubbing gently. She relaxed into his touch. While the rubbing itself wasn't really helping the pain, it was helping soothe her frailed nerves.

************************************************

He must have nodded off. When he came to, Jane was shifting uncomfortably in his arms.

“You ok?” he asked, looking down at her in concern.

“I think the painkillers are wearing off.” she groaned, curling in on herself.

Kurt reached over and grabbed the buzzer, alerting Rosie to Jane's unease, before turning back to her, hugging her from behind.

“I've got you.” he murmured in her ear, placing his hand back on her stomach. She replied by hugging his hand to her middle, trying her best not to cry out against the spiking pain. Kurt rubbed her back gently, his heart breaking all over again.

Rosie arrived only a few minutes later, frowning at the scene that greeted her.

“Not doing so good huh?” she asked, stepping into the cubicle and placing her hand on Jane's shoulder.

Jane shook her head, the pain crippling her to the point she couldn't speak.

“I'll go and hurry the doctor along for these pain meds.” Rosie said, giving her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze before leaving again.

Jane couldn't help but whimper into the pillow.

“Oh, my love.” Kurt whispered in her ear. He was at a loss on what to do. Feeling helpless, he opted to hold her, hoping he could provide a little comfort, just by being close to her.

It took another fifteen minutes of Jane writhing in pain, before Rosie finally returned with the pain relief.

Jane tried to let her body relax as the medication was plunged into her IV. It wasn't until the pain killers actually started working, that her body calmed down enough for her to breathe properly.

***************************************************

The doctor came back about an hour later, carrying Jane's chart under his arm.

“How are we doing in here?” he asked.

Kurt had taken the seat next to Jane's bed again, holding her hand as she lay on her side, trying her best to keep both her body and mind under control.

“I've been better.” she replied hoarsely.

The doctor nodded.

“We've got your bloods back. The levels confirm you have pancreatitis.” the doctor said, opening her chart.

“So what happens now?” Kurt asked, stroking the side of Jane's head.

“I'm going to book you in for an ultrasound to find out what we are dealing with.” the doctor replied. “Until then, I'll set you up with some longer wearing painkillers and anti nausea medication… hopefully that will make you more comfortable.”

Jane nodded. “How long will I have to stay here?” she asked, staring down at a spot on the bed.

“Until we know the extent of your pancreatitis, I'm afraid I can't give you much information… but usually all going well, patients will be in hospital about a week.”

Jane felt her heart sink. A week. How was she supposed to survive here for another week?

She felt Kurt squeeze her hand, and took a deep breath. She had to remain strong for both of their sakes. Losing it now would only cause both of them more stress.

The doctor, noticing her unease, offered her a small smile.

“Not to worry, we will get you fixed up and on your way as soon as possible.”

“Thank you doctor.” Kurt said, standing up and shaking his hand.

“An orderly will be along soon to take you up to radiology. I'll come back and see you once we have the results from the ultrasound.” the doctor said. He gave them another reassuring look, before stepping out of the cubicle.

Kurt turned back to his wife and took her hand again.

“It will be ok.” he promised.

She closed her eyes, taking a calming breath.

“I know.” she said finally, shifting to try and make herself more comfortable. “I just wasn't expecting to have to stay here that long.”

Kurt sighed, both in sadness for his wife and in relief. He was secretly pleased that he wasn't going to have to fight her on staying. Clearly she had come to the realization that she was actually quite sick, and needed to be here in order to get better. That and his breakdown earlier - he knew she was probably just trying to protect him from further stress.

“I'll be here every step of the way.” he replied after a moment.

She squeezed his hand.

“Thank you.” she whispered.

“Always.” he replied, offering her a small smile.

She blew out a lungful of air, rubbing her distended stomach softly. The medication was helping to take the edge off, but the pain and nausea in her belly was still distressing.

“Let's just hope this is the last thing that happens for a while.” she murmured.

“I couldn't agree more.” Kurt replied, leaning forward and kissing her temple.

He could see the desperation in her eyes and reached out to stroke her hair off her face.

“You're going to be ok my love.” he promised, though Jane wasn't one hundred percent sure who he was trying to convince.