posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh

venting about health stuff

this is long but I have barely been able to talk about how bad this is for me right now and I feel horrified all the time about how challenging and scary and confusing it all is. I need people to understand, even if it's just one or two people. I don't know what to do to deal with this and therapy is only doing so much, medication only does so much. I am in an existential terror because I don't have answers and I don't even know if I have the time to find them. I'm sorry I'm like this.

content warning: physical health, mental health, delayed & unreliable healthcare, confusing/scary symptoms, brief mention of breast dysphoria, brief mention of alcoholism, harm reduction, unplanned breast size change

I cannot find anything anywhere that says there can be a cause for lymph nodes swelling after having alcohol aside from Very Scary things and I am really just not feeling cool about having to wait literally fucking months to see a rheumatologist to address the repeated swollen lymph node issues while I'm ALSO trying to figure out why I have more lesions or something similar in my brain (next followup Monday). argh argh

how do I not freak out about this shit? I have spent the last SEVERAL years with multiple terrifying health crises, from the head injury & subsequent two years of PT, the pandemic itself & having COVID (with weird lymph side effects), effective malpractice that caused medication to almost kill me in 2020, the blood pressure/heart irregularities from August to last month, and now this shit. I am so fucking scared. :(

I keep having meltdowns because of ambiguity over tiny things (plans for the evening, scheduling, etc.) because I feel like I am in a quagmire of ambiguity, within the US healthcare system that is totally not dedicated to my care - I have some decent doctors, but it's a fucking mess financially, structurally, systemically - and about what the fuck is going on with my body and brain. I am struggling bad.

I want to do fun things! Enjoy my life! I'm 35 and I'm sitting here trying to figure out how I'm going to fill out an advance care directive because every time I've been supposed to do one I have fucking panics and can't do it because I don't want to have to yet again encounter whether I get to live or die as a daily fucking concern. It's hard enough being trans & disabled in the US, I don't know how much more I can take.

I've reached the point of pretty notable depression, my insomnia is probs the worst it's ever been (it's hard to get more than a few hours of sleep even with sleeping medicine or melatonin or any other method of getting better sleep I've tried), & the state I'm in is affecting every part of my life in a devastating way at this point. Even with insurance, I don't even know if we can afford treatment if I end up needing it.

I'm trying to survive all of this but it's so hard to live when I feel like every day is a wild card of whether it's going to be lifelong deteriorating illness, too rapid a death, or *spins wheel* unexplained symptoms & suffering for the foreseeable future? Every bitcosts money, & makes it less likely I'll ever be able to live somewhere safe & healthy for me with my partners.

So if I'm... not fun? not happy? This is why.

I'm sharing all this because I'm scared and hurting and I don't know if or when I'll have answers or what those answers will be. I don't think people understand why I am struggling so much & so messed up all the time. I feel like Shroedinger's cat. I'm dying but not dying but no one knows which or what they'll find when they open the box, least of all me, & I feel like I'm invisible while I'm experiencing it. I'm sorry.:( p.s. I really don't drink much - harm reduction has worked for me, I'm pretty careful, and I haven't been drunk since December 2015. For holidays & the occasional dinner or shower/bath time I'll have like, a drink or two? Today I had a single rum & coke, with John's approval on the rum measurement, and my arm has a swollen lymph node, I hurt everywhere, & my boobs are so swollen my bra barely fits. I like my boobs *at normal size*, but this sucks.

Yes ! Can you maybe do an imagine where the reader breaks up with Will because they dont think they’re good enough for him ?? But with a happy ending where they get back together because he really wants to be with them

Of course, sweet Anon!😊 Man, y'all really love angst lmao In retrospect, this might be a bit too angsty😬I blame Bo Burnham's Inside

This imagine is going to be really depressing, like a lot. There will be mentions of attempted suicide and self harm so, SEVERE TRIGGER WARNING.

~~~~~~~~~~

It had been over a year since you broke up with Will.

You'd never felt more depressed in your life, but you thought it was the right decision at the time. What bullshit that turned out to be...

Your crippling insecurity forced your mind to think you didn't deserve to have someone as amazing as Will, he was so thoughtful and you were so, well, so dependent.

You weren't in the best stage of your life when you met Will, you were in a really dark place and you had even more trouble getting out of it. You haven't really made much progress since then, but you tried.

You just wanted to feel better for once. Every day, you just felt like you were drowning and taking Will with you.

He was your rock, and he made sure that he was right beside you every time you felt bad. Of course, being an actor, he had to go away sometimes and you always told him that you'd be fine. You weren't, of course, but you were always so happy for him whenever he'd book a film or TV show because it made him happy.

There were days you just felt numb, mostly when Will wasn't with you. Those days you'd just lay in your bed, sob uncontrollably until the exhaustion would put you to sleep.

Will felt helpless, and you could always see it on his face. He was worried about you, he wanted to help you, but it wasn't something that he could change or do anything about. Him worrying about you day and night made you feel even worse, that was not what you wanted for him. He deserved to be with something that lifted him up and encouraged him, not someone who's depressing all the time and unintentionally bringing him down with them. No...you didn't want that for him at all.

It was inevitable, but it didn't make it any easier to break up with him.

Will's heartbroken face would forever be engrained in your mind, but you kept telling yourself it was in his best interest.

You cried the hardest you ever cried in your entire life. You loved him so much, you didn't want to let him go, but you couldn't let your toxicity ruin his life. And you honestly thought that it would get better in time, but it only made your mental state deteriorate ever more.

One night, when the pain got too hard to handle, you took and broke your shaving razors, taking out the blades.

In hindsight, you really wished you hadn't, you felt embarrassed about it for the longest time. But trying to look on the bright side, it did force you to finally get the professional help you needed. Therapy, medication, the whole nine yards. You kicked yourself for not getting yourself help sooner, because you felt better now that you were going to therapy.

You still struggled a lot, but you knew once you found the right medication, it would become more bearable, and it did eventually. It took a lot of hard work.

You thought about Will a lot, what he was up to, if he found someone else that he loved. The thought was painful, but all you wanted for him was to find true happiness.

One day, you decided to go out to a coffee shop one morning, as opposed to just Postmateing yourself like you normally did. Your therapist did say you needed to get out more, so you took their advice.

You walked through town, a simple little coffee shop catching your eye. The name sounded familiar to you, though you couldn't quite place why. You didn't think you'd been to this place before, you usually made your own coffee, but you wanted to give it a try.

The light ring of a bell filled your ears as you opened the front door. It was a really cold morning, so the warm heat hitting your skin and inhaling the strong smell of coffee and freshly made bakeries put a small smile on your face.

You were thankful that there wasn't a line, possibly to early in the morning, maybe you got there before the usual early birds. Though looking around, it was a small place, only a few book readers scattered amongst the small tables that were set up opposite of the counter where you ordered.

While waiting for your coffee, a wall full of art caught your eye. You walked closer to look at all the pieces, all of them painted by customers. Hmm, cute...

You didn't really acknowledge the bell ringing once more, signaling an arrival of another customer, to focused on the pretty art.

"Hey!" You heard one of the workers say cheerfully, probably addressing the new customer. "Your usual, Will?"

Your smile dropped. Ha, what are the odds, right?

"Yep, of course. Thank you."

Then, your heart dropped.

You recognized that voice anywhere. Now you knew why this shop sounded so familiar, it was Will's favorite place to get coffee, he had mentioned it to you before. Of course, of all the coffee places in town, you had to pick this one.

You slowly turned around, your heart beating out of your chest and almost coming to a complete stop once you laid eyes on his face. That face you always thought about, even in your dreams. "Wi-"

"Y/n!" You cringed as the coffee shop worker called out your name, telling you that your coffee was ready.

Will immediately snapped his gaze over to you, clearly having trouble believing it was actually you. You stood there awkwardly, having a hard time reading his expression. Was he mad? Sad? Happy?

"Y/n." Will almost whispered, taking a couple steps closer to you.

Will looked the same, just as handsome as when you last saw him. His eyes were locked onto you, looking you over in awe. He thought you looked so much healthier now, but always thinking that you look stunning, no matter the circumstance.

"How...how are you?" Will started, a small smile finally stretching across his lips. "You look," He chuckled softly, "amazing."

You looked down slightly when your face started to burn, all of your blood seeming to rush right to your face from one simple compliment. "Thank you." You said sheepishly. "You look amazing too, as usual."

Now it was Will's turn to blush, his easy to spot with his fair complexion. "Uh, do you wanna, maybe, sit down? Or we could go somewhere else, if you want to, that is. Don't feel pressured or anything." He rambled.

You smiled. "Yeah, sure." You grabbed your coffee and joined Will at the table he chose to sit at. "So, uh, how've you been?" You asked, taking tiny sips of your hot drink.

"Good, good. I'll be filming a new project soon, so that'll be fun." Will paused for a beat, then sighing despairingly . "I've been, uh, thinking about you. A lot."

"I've been thinking about you too."

"I kinda lied. I am filming something soon but, I haven't been good. Ever since we broke up, life just...kind of feels a bit grey now."

You frowned, biting your lip hard to keep tears from welling up in your eyes. "I'm sorry, Will..." You whispered. "I thought you'd be better off without me to drag you down. I was such a burden."

Will furrowed his brows, shaking his head with a frown. "No. You weren't dragging me down, I loved you, Y/n. I would've done anything for you. I know that you struggled a lot with your mental health, but I wanted to be with you through all that. I never thought you were a burden, not for a second."

"I just," You wiped an unwanted tear from your cheek, "I don't think I was ready to be in a relationship then. I've been working really hard on my health and now that I have a clearer mindset, I think it was probably for the best that I broke up with you when I did."

Will took a deep breath. "I respect that. I do. I'm happy for you, that you're better now. I don't want this to come off as selfish...but I still love you. I want to be with you. But I understand if you can't be in a relationship right now. I'll wait for you, as long as it takes if you'll let me."

You blushed furiously once more. At this point, you practically wanted to throw yourself at this man. You didn't care if it didn't work out again, you still wanted him, badly.

"I still love you too, Will. Always have."

Will smiled softly. "I don't want you to be my partner again if you're not ready."

"I don't know if I am, I'm still working on myself, but...goddamn I wanna kiss you so bad right now." You said, eliciting another blush and a shy laugh from Will.

You answered him by leaning forward slowly, rubbing your nose against his before gent as you smiled widely at him, leaning closer. You almost shivered as his cold hands reached over to delicately trace your jawline, the gesture automatically putting you in a sort of trance where you could only look into his eyes.

"I really want to kiss you." Will giggled, fully cupping the side of your jaw. "May I?"

You answered him by leaning forward slowly, rubbing your nose against his before gently connecting your lips with his.

Over a year of wanting and missing Will, you ignored your dislike of PDA, you've needed this for so long. The spark you always felt when you kissed him was still there, still giving you goosebumps along with an intense desire you definitely couldn't act on in this coffee shop.

Will pulled away, only to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes closed just relishing in the moment. "I've missed you so much."

"Me too." You chuckled breathlessly.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to rush back into things. We can take it slow if that's what you want."

This man was always such a gentleman, but it just made you even more eager to take him home with you.

"Right now, I don't think I'm capable of taking things slow." You said, a almost seductive tone to your voice.

Will smiled playfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's absolutely not taking things slow."

"How about we go to my place? Make up all the lost time?" You asked not as confidently, the feeling of rejection making you nervous, but Will smiled gently, taking a hold of your hand and kissing you once more.

"Lead the way."

~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed! Hopefully it wasn't too depressing and dark in the beginning.

I had an evil thought on twitter and way too many people encouraged it, SO-

“Collecting the Pieces”

Mild Horror, Family Secrets, Mental Instability, Magical Fuckups, Sangyao-lite, Nie Huaisang Doesn’t Know Yet, Jin Guangyao Is About To Know More Than He Ever Wanted To

__________

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang.

It manifests in small signs at first.

Little things like how he would look at a person, but not at them, green eyes dull as if he wasn’t actually seeing who he was talking to. The unnaturally pale tint to his skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. The fact that his robes had gotten heavier over thr last several months, trying to hide that he was getting thinner.

The incident where he had lost consciousness in the middle of a discussion with Ouyang-furen and had only been saved from cracking his skull against the floor by the reflexes of his head disciple was… concerning. But like all of the other symptoms, it could easily be tallied up as exhaustion from lingering grief and having so much responsibility dumped onto an unprepared back.

But then...

Then there are the conversations none of them can hear. Those moments where he sits with his head slightly bowed, staring at nothing and lips moving silently.

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang, and for those not of his sect, his presence has gone from mildly concerning to downright unnerving.

Jin Guangyao has to point out to his father more than once that they have only just averted the conflict with the previous sect leader; to bar the new one from the discussion conferences just because he seems strange would be an insult tantamount to inviting war, even if Nie Hengbai does seem to be doing all the talking for the Nie at the moment, his sect leader a quiet little shadow at his side.

He finds it a unique opportunity to observe, in fact. Everyone is so unsettled by the mere fact that Nie Huaisang converses with empty air that no one has apparently thought to find out what he is saying when he does .

The seating arrangement isn’t ideal. The only person besides his own disciples who doesn’t seem to be scared off by Nie Huaisang’s unnatural behavior is Jiang-zongzhu, who pointedly settles himself on the opposite side from Nie Hengbai and scowls at all gossipers, their host included. His height half-blocks Nie Huaisang from view.

But still, Jin Guangyao can see.

And as he watches the words fall unheard from Nie Huaisang’s mouth, he feels a chill slowly creep up his spine.

‘Da-ge, come back. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll behave. I'll be good. Please come back. Please, Da-ge…’

He is glad that his sleeves hide the involuntary clenching of his hands.

While he knows better than to completely dismiss a possibility, no matter how small the odds, his mind nonetheless rebels at the first idea to enter it. It cannot actually be Nie Mingjue's resentful ghost haunting his little brother. Even if it had been whole, if he and Xue Yang had not scattered it with the man's physical pieces, it is decidedly not Nie Huaisang that the man would be tormenting with his presence if he were capable.

Isn't it?

And yet, he cannot shake the cold in his bones.

There is something wrong with Nie Huaisang, and he will seek out the source.

---

"San-ge?"

Nie Huaisang blinks at him, eyes glassy and confused. He tilts his head questioningly like the birds he is so fond of, then slowly regains awareness of his surroundings and smiles, looking more like himself.

Jin Guangyao forcibly clamps down on a shudder. "It's good to see you, Sang-er," he says, allowing himself to adopt the regional address since they are nowhere near the judging eyes of Koi Tower. He reaches out and sweeps the younger man's hair out of his eyes, then tuts in concern. "Are you still not sleeping well?"

"Ah-" Nie Huaisang flinches and looks embarrassed at the gentle chiding. "It's… nothing, really. Busy times and too much paperwork, that's all. Can I get you anything?"

"I just need to look over some map records, if you don't mind. A handful of small sects have brought a problem to my father, and I'm afraid our own records are… a bit lacking."

The younger man simply nods, accepting the excuse at face value, and Jin Guangyao isn't sure if that says something about Nie Huaisang's state of mind, or the Jin sect's reputation for ignoring anything that isn't expenditures or debts to be collected. Either way, when Nie Huaisang reaches out to tug his sleeve, he goes willingly and tries to ignore the slightly unsteady sway to his friend's pace.

Even though the poor end to his relationship with Nie Mingjue had been loud and public enough that the whole of the Unclean Realms knew about it before the day had even ended, he is apparently still a familiar enough face that barely anyone pays him mind.

Indeed, most of their worried glances are directed towards their sect leader.

He refuses to examine the possible reasons why that might be settling sour in his stomach.

They are still a few halls and turns away from the library when Nie Huaisang lets go of his sleeve and puts a hand to his head, looking even more pale than before. Jin Guangyao catches him before he can topple into the wall and then bites his tongue when green eyes slide over him, gaze unseeing.

“Sang-er?” he asks cautiously.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes don’t clear, but he seems to still be at least halfway lucid. “I’m sorry… I don’t feel well. I think I need to stay here. You remember the rest of the way, don’t you?”

“I do, but this is no proper place for you to rest.” He leans around the corner and waves over a passing servant. “Would you assist Nie-zongzhu to his room, please?”

“Of course, of course,” the woman says in a tone that conveys she is apparently -unfortunately- used to this. “Come along,” she says, taking hold of Nie Huaisang’s hand and wrapping a steadying arm around his waist, as if guiding a lost child, and he follows her lead without complaint.

Jin Guangyao watches them go and squashes that sour feeling when it threatens to churn.

Answers.

Answers first.

---

The library he needs, he has decided, is not the primary library, the one that Nie Huaisang had been taking him to. No, he seeks out the room buried so deep in the Unclean Realms that no daylight reaches it, that he had only stumbled upon by accident back when he had been employed here.

Lighting the only lantern in the room with a flame talisman, he finds that nothing has changed since the last time he was here other than a thickening of the layer of dust.

Swallowing hard, he straightens his back and starts with the family records.

---

‘After much deliberation and testimony from the physicians and healers involved in the care of the first young master, it is the advice of the sect elders that- ’

He has relit the lantern twice, and he’s fairly sure it’s long past dinner when he sinks into a chair and slaps the open scroll down onto the table, feeling lightheaded and shaky.

A spirit-tethering.

Until he had seen the books Lan Xichen carried from the library of the Cloud Recesses, such a thing had been the stuff of fantasy stories. Even in the vaunted Lan texts, it was only described in abstract theory.

And yet there was apparently enough foundation to it that a serious proposal had been made to cast such a thing between a pair of children to keep Nie Mingjue from being torn apart by the saber he’d bonded with far too young.

He forces himself to keep reading, feeling his stomach sink with every passage.

Nie Haoran had argued viciously against the idea for two years, even offering himself as the tether, only to be shot down due to his own unstable health. He had only given in when his son had experienced his first qi deviation at eleven years of age.

Eleven years old.

Nie Huaisang would have only been five.

Jin Guangyao bites his tongue again and presses the back of his hand to his mouth to forcibly swallow back the bile that bubbles up in his throat.

The mechanics of the matter only make the horror of it even more stark. The only ones who would have been able to undo the tether would have been the brothers themselves. He finds notes, plans, all written in Nie Mingjue’s sharp-edged calligraphy, of how he would set his brother free once his own health became too compromised but before his mind was too unstable…

But he hadn’t done it.

Hadn’t been able to do it.

He’d deteriorated too quickly.

Instead...

Nausea continuing to roil in his guts like a thunder cloud, Jin Guangyao rolls up the scroll and shoves it back into place with enough force that it crumples, practically fleeing the room even though there is no monster there to escape, just-

It is indeed dark outside as he traverses the hallways, barely able to restrain himself from running.

No one answers when he knocks at Nie Huaisang’s door. He sucks in a sharp breath to ground himself, then carefully pushes it open.

The room is as stark as he remembers from his last visit. Though he knows he Lan Xichen have both offered to help, Nie Huaisang has yet to start replacing any of the possessions that his brother had burnt. There is a tray of food on the table near the bed, untouched and probably long cold.

The person he’s seeking is curled up on the bed on top of the covers, still fully dressed. Fingers twitch and scratch at his own arms as he shivers, most likely in the throes of a nightmare.

His lips are moving.

Jin Guangyao doesn’t dare read them.

He closes the door behind him and crosses the room to the bed. Nie Huaisang doesn’t react to the dip in the mattress as he sits down, nor to being pulled and shifted until the younger man’s head rests in his lap. When he gently removes the guan from his hair and begins combing out the braids, however, the fit finally eases, the anxious lines of Nie Huaisang’s face smoothing out as he calms.

Jin Guangyao closes his eyes for a moment and sighs.

He now knows what is wrong with Nie Huaisang, and he knows he is at fault.

He could lay the blame elsewhere. He wants to. The elders who’d made the proposal... Nie Haoran for allowing it... the healers who’d carried it out… It is most tempting to blame Nie Mingjue for having not undone it as soon as they were both grown.

But no. The fact of the matter is that Nie Huaisang’s condition can be laid at his feet. Had he not hastened Nie Mingjue’s death… He doesn’t regret that.

He refuses to let himself regret that.

But this…

Grief could be moved past.

Missing pieces could not.

He opens his eyes to find Nie Huaisang has shifted to curl against him, and he allows himself a small, weak smile as he begins carding his fingers through silken hair again.

He knows what is wrong with Nie Huaisang, and perhaps he can’t fix the damage already done, but there are still things he can do. Information he can find, pieces he can move or remove. He can make things easier.

“It will be alright,” he murmurs, then leans down and gently presses a kiss to the sleeping young man’s temple. The gesture makes Nie Huaisang snuggle closer in his sleep, and his own smile gains strength.  “I took care of er-gongzi before, I will be happy to take care of zongzhu now. He is my responsibility, after all.”

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH98

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 98: Castle Cry (XXV)

The rooftop garden was filled with ruins, and the traces of the explosion and fire were everywhere. Qi Leren took a deep breath of the smokey and damp air, then walked to the treasure chest left by the crazy lady's death, hesitated, and called Dr. Lu back: "Come and open the box!"

Dr. Lu came running, panting. He tripped and almost fell on the bumpy ground along the way. Fortunately, Su He gave him a hand.

"Do you really want me to open it for you?" Dr. Lu asked earnestly, his eyes shining and his face irrepressible.

"I'm sure," Qi Leren also said seriously. This was the time to trust the European emperor, not to be cheap.

"Er... Su He, is there any law or metaphysics in opening the box?" Dr. Lu asked.

"Generally speaking, most treasure chests contain strange disposable goods, a few have skill cards, and there are also pure card slots or attributes. Some people even encounter random tasks. There’s almost no rules they follow. In fact, skill cards may not be good, but some props will have magical effects at critical moments. If you’re lucky enough, you may open them and find legendary resurrection items," Su He smiled and said.

Qi Leren's heart hitched. He forced himself not to look at Su He. He didn't know whether Su He suddenly mentioned the resurrection items intentionally or unintentionally. He could only pretend to be natural enough…

It should be a coincidence... Su He mentioned a similar resurrection skill card a long time ago. Now, it was just to explain the relationship between the box and luck. He was just feeling guilty!

"Then I’ll open it. If I open a binding skill card, you won’t get your share," Dr. Lu reminded Qi Leren.

Qi Leren tried to calm down: "Open it."

Dr. Lu put his finger on the lock, and the golden box opened.

Dr. Lu glanced at the skill card and said, "This should be good, here."

[Demon Etiquette (Unbound Skill Card): For each use, one demon crystal must be used. If the demon crystals in your inventory are insufficient, the skill cannot be used. During the equipment of this skill, the player will gain the appearance of a demon, in accordance with the type of consumed demon crystal, but no demon talents will be obtained. The skill lasts for 3 hours and the cooling time is 24 hours.]

This is…

Qi Leren looked at the skill card in his hand. His intuition told him that this skill card was unusual, but he couldn't tell what was unusual. He looked at Su He for help: "This card... should be useful?"

Su He took a look at the skill card and said a little unexpectedly: "A very good skill. If there are tasks involving demons in the future, maybe you can pretend to be one of them, but you need demon crystals to do it..."

Su He didn't continue, but gave Qi Leren a meaningful look, and the latter immediately understood what he wanted to say: Right now he should stay away from the demon crystals, otherwise the seed of slaughter in him would soon get out of control.

"It seems I’m lucky, hey," Dr. Lu said triumphantly.

Su He looked at him with a smile and nodded appreciatively.

"Let’s go back and get dinner." Qi Leren reached out and tried to clap Dr. Lu's shoulder. When he lifted his arm, however, this arm that he had rolled on to avoid the crazy lady was in terrible pain, having been severely bruised.

When Dr. Lu saw it, he quickly sought to treat him: "Don't worry about the skill cooling time now. I’ll treat you first. Although it’s not perfect, it’s better than nothing."

The “Doctor’s Orders” skill was quite reliable. Qi Leren's bruises on his forehead, the cuts on his arms, and bruises all over his body quickly faded and scabbed over, but it could only reach this level. If he was now suffering from fatal injuries, this skill would be powerless, and would only serve to make him die more slowly at most.

The wounds healed and the pain eased. Qi Leren waved his arm happily and thanked him. Seeing that Su He was still studying the ashes left by the crazy lady after her death, he asked curiously, "Is there anything wrong?"

"There’s nothing wrong, just a little strange. After Dr. Lu burned the Devil's sacrifice before, the crazy lady didn’t weaken, but became stronger..." After thinking, Su He said, "It probably caused her madness. At first, her body was hard and it was difficult to hurt her. After burning the sacrifice, her defense and speed dropped sharply. Reusing the ashes left by Luo Xueyi should further stimulate her strength. The attack power and attack means were stronger. This state couldn't last long.”

Qi Leren scratched his head. Although he’d tried his best to avoid it just now, a few strands of hair were burnt by the fiery rain, giving off an odd smell: "Unfortunately, I didn't find Xiao Hong's half-body, otherwise we could have used it... Why did you pull my arm?"

Dr. Lu turned his eyes and pulled his arm to the side: "You can’t see well, get more vitamin A to enhance your night vision."

Looking in the direction of Dr. Lu's finger, behind the bush illuminated by a flashlight, Xiao Hong's half-body was impressively hanging on a big tree, which was very eye-catching.

Qi Leren was silent.

"It's too dark, and it was extremely tense. It's normal not to notice it," Su He calmly comforted Qi Leren.

Qi Leren continued to remain silent.

The three people burned the remaining half of Xiao Hong's body, and then left the rooftop garden. The time left was running out, so they had to leave the castle quickly to finish the task.

When they went downstairs, Qi Leren asked, "What’s the completion of our task now?"

“91%,” Su He said.

"Wow, we can get the lucky draw opportunity! More than 90% let’s us randomly draw once! I like it!" Dr. Lu got excited.

"There's still 9%. Where’s the difference?" Qi Leren recalled the plot of the task and felt that they shouldn’t be missing too much.

Dr. Lu hesitated: "Well, now the story has been mostly explored. A long time ago Sarah fell in love with Johann who was not of noble birth, and Johann married Sarah for some purpose — maybe emotion or  interest. Sarah found out that her maid Adeline was having an affair with Johann. She secretly killed Adeline and pretended that she had eaten food she was deathly allergic to. No one discovered it was a murder except Mrs. Sarah's family doctor Flajser. The time frame of the above things is unclear, but they’re generally true. After that, Mrs. Sarah and Mr. Johann came to China for business and built and lived in this castle. In order to avenge Adeline, Dr. Flajser also came to China from Germany. In order to prevent Mrs. Sarah's genetic disease from being passed on to the next generation, Mr. Johann had been using the method provided by Dr. Flajser to prevent contraception. He instructed his maid Nina to put mercury powder in Mrs. Sarah's diet. Later, when Nina found out about this. Nina was worried that she was poisoning Mrs. Sarah, so she reduced the dose without authorization. Later, Mrs. Sarah became pregnant. Nina heard the conversation between Dr. Flajser and Mr. Johann, and found that they were going to continue to feed her mercury powder so that Mrs. Sarah would give birth to a deformed fetus and allow it to be killed. Nina was afraid of Mrs Sarah's genetic disease and caused an accident. Mrs. Sarah fell down the stairs and miscarried. After the miscarriage, Mrs. Sarah's mental state deteriorated sharply - this may have been Dr Flajser's doing - and she began to suspect that everything was caused by the dead Adeline's demons, and the relationship between husband and wife began to break down. Then the Devil bewitched her in the mirror and taught her how to perform the sacrifice. Mrs. Sarah, who loved her husband deeply, sacrificed to the Devil to save his love. However, the sacrifice made her mental illness more and more serious. Until finally, she sacrificed Nina and went completely crazy. Mrs. Sarah, under the control of the Devil, personally killed everyone and set fire to the castle, and the story ended."

"It sounds like we haven't missed any important clues." Qi Leren thought that the clues they had were very complete, yet there was still 9% missing.

Su He analyzed the two in an orderly way: "This degree of completion means that we have completed the main story, and the conclusion of the puzzle is correct, but some clues and evidence are missing. If we must study it deeply, there are three dark lines that we have not excavated. One is about Nina. Her behavior seems reasonable, but it seems strange when you look deeper into it. In order to avoid the genetic disease that would come from Mrs. Sarah giving birth, she chose to force her to miscarry. Didn't this cause Mrs. Sarah to go crazy? Her original words are also very interesting, 'I feel like I must have been persuaded by the Devil', so we don't know if she was influenced by the Devil like the crazy lady. Nina's attitude, which was seen in the phantom when she created the last Devil sacrifice, was also very subtle. She sympathized with the crazy lady and implied guilt, but vaguely, she was also jealous, which was not the emotions that a clever maid should have. At another point, Nina said that since she confessed to Mr. Johann that she had reduced the dosage of mercury powder, this matter was handed over to other maids, and she was also locked up, but after Mrs. Sarah miscarried, went mad, and was locked up in the basement, Nina was still responsible for delivering her food... What did she do to make Johann trust her again?"

Su He stroked the decoration on his walking stick, slowly dissecting the plot, and the details that were excavated by him made others feel uneasy. Qi Leren suddenly thought of a possibility. Nina had pushed the crazy lady down the stairs and caused her to miscarry. Was this really for her? Was it true that this wouldn’t kill two people? Was Nina's original intention really to help the crazy lady? What exactly did she want to do?

"The second one is Luo Xueyi. She suddenly appeared on the stairs with the hanging portrait, and died with half of Xiao Hong's body after setting on fire. She’s even more complicated than Nan Lu, and her behavior is full of metaphors and mysteries. During the period from her disappearance to her self-immolation, we likely missed a lot of her story, which led to a decline in the degree of completion. Finally, there is Dr. Flajser. Don't forget, there’s no evidence about Dr. Flajser. It's all based on subjective speculation. We must have missed some evidence that can testify against Dr. Flajser, such as the mercury powder or some hallucinogens left by him somewhere in this castle, and even more letters between him and Mr. Johann."

Qi Leren thought deeply. The clues about the first two would be hard to find, but there should still be hope of finding Dr. Flajser's things. Where could they find them? It should’ve been John's study on the second floor, but he, Dr. Lu and Nan Lu searched the study before. There should be no more clues. Could they find them now? This was the outer world after the fire. Even if there were clues, they probably…

"Go away, you still want to make a 100% clearance? Don't waste your time, just finish the task quickly." Dr. Lu grabbed Qi Leren who was still thinking and walked him down the stairs.

"Wait a minute. The keys, give me the keys for the second floor!" Qi Leren suddenly remembered something and grabbed Dr. Lu's shoulder. "No, I don't need the key. Come with me!"

"Ah? What are you doing?" Dr. Lu, who was at a loss, was pulled by Qi Leren and ran to the second floor on the broken floor.

With the memory of the layout of rooms in the castle, Qi Leren quickly found the room he was looking for. At this moment, all he could think about was what Nina had said when they went to see her for the last time: She sneaked over to the Master’s study to give him a surprise… Then she saw that the Master was looking sorrowfully at Adeline’s picture. I thought she would rush in and scream bloody murder at her husband, just like before, but she didn't.

The door opened.

In the old and dilapidated study, facing the door was the sofa where Nan Lu once sat, and a picture hanging on the wall behind the sofa. The room was not badly burned, and Johann, the handsome man in the portrait, was still faintly visible.

Qi Leren strode in. This was the only place that could have been seen by the crazy lady standing at the door.

He carefully took off the picture frame and turned it over. Sure enough, there was a photo behind the frame.

Qi Leren's heartbeat suddenly quickened. He vaguely realized that he should have found an important clue. He took a deep breath and took this photo down, turning it over to the front.

There was only one person in the photo, who looked like a young girl dressed as a maid, smiling at the camera.

"Is that Adeline?" Dr. Lu as he looked at the photo.

Qi Leren suddenly understood.

"She has another name." Qi Leren closed his eyes and recalled that girl who solemnly went to the altar of the Devil of Fraud in the cold underground palace.

"Her name is Isabel, an... excellent witch."

Adeline, the smiling maid in the photo, overlapped with Isabel, the winner of the Witchcraft Sacrifice.

This was a story about love, deception, jealousy, and madness. Everyone in the story was lost in their own desires and sins. Whether it was Johann who was fascinated by her, Sarah who was jealous of her, Nina who was incited by her, or Flajser who avenged her, she played with them like marionettes.

In just the blink of an eye, Isabel, the witch who served the Devil of Fraud, had become a witch who was good at playing with people's hearts.

-----

Editor’s Notes: How’s that for a twist? Next chapter we’re onto the next arc! And yes, a certain someone will be showing up again soon ;)

-----

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Half-Life, Ch. 5

Summary: The consequences of Gigan’s actions makes itself clear.

-

He can’t move.

He can’t see.

He can’t hear.

But he was aware.

He was aware of the terrible pain that plagued his body, so intense that he couldn’t even scream. He was aware of every second the half-life used him for, every second his flesh was gouged and violated. He was aware, that every time he attempted to move even the slightest bit, it brought painful seizures through his entire body, especially of his legs and tails. His feet would kick the air uselessly, his tails have already run dry of their poison gasses but still kept contracting nonetheless.

He was aware, that for the very first time, he was at the complete mercy of everything around him.

His fifth brain has been severely damaged, shredded by the half-life’s tail and made worse through the mating. The same brain that allowed him to control his massive body was now destroyed, and it left that body feeling alien to the dragon.

Never before has he sustained such a terrible injury. It’s not often he received any injury at all, as his hardened scales usually proved enough to protect him from damage. Even in those few fights that proved more serious, it never got this bad. The extent of his injuries were usually torn wing membranes, maybe even a broken neck. Wounds that were always relatively easy to mend. Until that half-life showed up and now...

He felt so weak, and it was hard to stay conscious, much less stay focused on what he needed to do. He still had stored energy left in his stomach; he just needed to tighten the right muscles to free it into his system. But in the process of doing this, he sent another agonizing spasm through his whole body. He couldn’t even cry out, enduring this as it at least released his emergency reserves.

Some of that energy escaped his body, forming a faint barrier around him, red flame-like wisps coming from it. Keeping him safe from the outside world. He honestly didn’t want that energy to be wasted on a barrier, but he had no say in how his reserves were used. His body spent it on a pre-determined list of priorities that his old creators deemed fit.

The first of those priorities was to stopping the flow of blood from escaping his wounds. Blood being drawn is not something he was used to, but here he was losing too much too quickly. His body was in a state of panic, urgent in trying to get itself back together. But his energy stores were limited in how much he can carry; he didn’t even know if he would have enough to fully stop his bleeding, much less repair his damaged brain.

But he had to repair it; he can’t move without it and he needed to get out of here. Fly beyond the cloud of space dust and its atmosphere, to unfiltered cosmic rays. If he can’t, he won’t be able to complete the healing process. And... and...

It struck him.

He could very well die from this.

Bleeding. Humiliated. Disgraced. Defiled. Pathetic. At the claws of a half-life. Surrounded by lesser lifeforms. He’s never imagined what his death would be like, as it seemed like an impossibility. But this? This was not how he wanted his Death to be. He will NOT give this half-life the satisfaction of knowing he did this to him!

Without thinking, he attempted to get up, but his muscles tightened painfully before his legs kicked once more. More horrific pain swamped his nerves from his injuries. Why was his body not paying his damaged brain any attention?! He deemed that more important than his blood!

In his panicked mind-set, he failed to realize that he needed that blood to transfer the healing energy throughout his body. He was already losing too much, and the more he bled, the slower the process. But the thought never occurs to him as he kept struggling against his own body.

It was the burden of agony and exhaustion that finally stopped his attempts to move, his body once more settling into twitches. That violent fit has just undone what healing has occurred, dislodging clots and causing blood to flow freely once more.

He can feel it, trickling down his scales.

He can’t...

He just can’t...

He laid there for another moment, twitching. Enduring. Trying to calm. It’s all he can do; just try to stay alive long enough to see this through to the end. Hopefully soon, he’ll be able to take matters into his own teeth...

Blood still escaped his wounds by the time his reserves ran dry. No, no, this can’t happen to him. He already is going through enough pain as is, was he really going to have to resort to... to...

He didn’t have any real choice in the matter and he didn’t even have time to brace himself mentally before an acute piercing pain came into his chest. It was as if the half-life had stabbed right through him, and he instinctively tried to struggle, only to provoke another seizure that only worsened his situation. He felt no sign of the half-life, no resistance of his blade in his flesh. 

No, what he was experiencing was his own body sacrificing his Gravity Beam sacs, deteriorating the organs and reducing them into the same energy he would become when cocooning into his asteroid. Except this time, it was piece by piece, with his pain receptors fully intact. There was no pleasant numbing to ease the process.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had to go through something like this. At least back then, he was certain he would’ve been able to watch the process and see the results to make himself feel better. Here, he couldn’t observe the progress being made, nor estimate how much longer he’d have to endure this torture. Was this even worth it?

Wave after wave of added torment pierced through his chest, and each one made his focus waver that much more. His heart was racing so fast, from fear and from working hard to transport this new source of energy with what little blood was left. But even that was starting to weaken. It was harder to think, before thought disappeared completely. The pain was becoming dull, including the constant throb of the active chip. Wait, no... The sensation of the chip, the thing that plagued his dreams and life, was gone now.

An irrational sense of happiness flowed through him; the pain was gone, the chip was gone. Have he succeeded in healing? Was this happiness his reward? Was it time to rest from the ordeal? He didn’t know. All he knew now was a sense of bliss as his crests gave him the biggest dose of euphoria that he’s ever felt. 

Before that too faded into nothingness.

-

"Scoli, I need another glass. Right fuckin' now."

"Hello to you too." The centipede grumbled before glancing up. His mandibles opened in clear disgust. "You couldn't have cleaned up better?"

"Not in the mood, Legs," Gigan hissed, taking the glass just as the other kaiju finished pouring his drink. He takes a swig, savoring the taste and letting it work its magic. "Y'know, I put so much work into that guy and this is how I'm rewarded?"

“A bad lay, huh?” Scolopendra muttered in feigned interest.

“You have no idea,” He took another gulp. “Y’know, I had my suspicions that it would be his first time and yeah it was, and wanna know why?”

“Not really.”

“He had NOTHING between those legs. His damn Masters didn’t even give him junk, how fucked up do they have to be to not think of that?!” He continued to vent between drinks. “As fucked as MY Masters were, at least they left the rest of me intact. Even the bastards who did THIS-” He gestured at his own body. “-left well enough alone. But damn, that dragon can’t do shit. No wonder all he does is kill things, he literally has nothing else better to do with his time. Can’t eat, can’t drink, can’t fuck.” He shook his head. "I'd almost feel bad for him if he wasn't such an asshole. But I'd probably be an asshole too if I couldn't enjoy anything. How he managed to live like that for so long, I have no idea."

"Maybe it doesn't occur to you that if he doesn't have those abilities, then he probably never cared. Can't miss what you never had."

"Well, I've been trying to change that. Show him that yeah, killing is fun, but there's more to life than THAT." 

Another gulp and a moment of silence, as Gigan finished his drink and pushed the empty glass towards Scolopendra for a refill.

“Credit though, it was fun at first. Those throats of his, damn.”

“I don’t need to know the details.”

Gigan continued anyway. “He shoots lightning out of his mouth, and I tell you, that kind of energy made him feel real nice.”

“Gigan!”

“But it would be nice to fuck him properly. Maybe I can find a race that has the knowledge to do some surgery on him. Get a proper hole on him so I don’t have to keep making one myself. Heh.” A smirk came to his face. “Imagine that, get him custom-made just for me. Maybe throw in a stomach too.” He chuckled a bit but that died when he saw the look the centipede gave him. It wasn’t one he was expecting, scolding and with great disapproval. He maintained eye contact as he took a sip of his refilled drink. “What?”

“... What the fuck, Gigan?” Scolopendra started.

“What?” he responded with a defensive hiss.

“I asked not to hear about it, but... But what the fuck do you mean ‘keep making one myself’? What did you do?” Well, at last, the damn bug had interest in what he was saying, even if it was with obvious disgust.

“I told you. I made a hole. Between those legs.” The stinger of his tail clicked with emphasis and the look the centipede gave him was growing even more judgmental. It was enough to make him laugh. “Oh, stop acting like you care. If he were any other bitch, I would’ve done much worse. And had a free meal after.”

Scolopendra shook his head. “Would’ve actually preferred if you ate him like the rest of your ‘bitches’. Always made me feel better pretending it’s a legit hunting method of yours.”

“Eh, this job is making you soft, you’ll get over it,” the cyborg continued dismissively. “Anyway, the whole thing would’ve been fun, but apparently, the dragon couldn’t handle it. Damn thing passed out on me.”

“Passed out? Or died from fuckin’ being impaled?”

“Noooo,” Gigan drawled, taking another gulp. “He was still bleeding when I left.”

“Oh, okay, so he’s dying. Good to know, considering he’s the reason I’ve been giving you drinks in the first place. But now that he’s bleeding out...” 

Gigan gave him an unamused look, which Scolopendra met with his own. The moment of silence was thick before the cyborg gave one last gulp to finish his drink before slamming it back on the bar with force. “Fiiiine. I’ll go check on him.”

“You do that,” the centipede grumbled, just wanting any excuse for the cyborg to leave his establishment. “We’re also closing soon, so don’t bother coming back.” He watched the blue kaiju raise a blade in acknowledgement as he left before the centipede pulled out the communicator from beneath the bar. He pressed in a few buttons before speaking in a soft whisper.

“Hey, boss. Gigan, y’know, that idiot cyborg we banned? Yeah, he just left... Mhm... No, I told him to leave but he brought GHIDORAH in here... Yeah, THAT Ghidorah, how many Ghidorahs do you know? Now that monster knows our location, what now?” He nodded a couple of times before- “The Strawberry cloud?” He lets out an audible sigh. “I’ll get things packed up here.”

..............

“Huh? ..... Nothing’s wrong, I was just hoping we’d move to the Pineapple cloud instead... Wait, we can?”

For the first time since Gigan showed up, the centipede smiled.

-

What the actual hell was this?

Gigan glared at the sphere in front of him, and beyond, Ghidorah lying on the ground. He almost walked right into it and would’ve if it wasn’t for the red firey tendrils that pulsed through it alerting him to its presence. He lifted a claw and gave the sphere an experimental tap.

A spark courses up his blade and into the flesh of his arm and he flinched away. It actually wasn’t bad, although probably enough to kill off small species, like their old Masters. But it does nothing to discourage him, as his visor locks on the motionless form of the dragon. The fact that the dragon thought this would be enough to protect him; maybe from those tiny aliens, but definitely not from him. It was enough to push his irritation out of his mind to be replaced with smug amusement.

He’ll show him how useless this was.

Lifting his claw high, he struck the sphere with strength, sparks erupting from the impact. His other claw followed, slashing into the same spot to weaken it. He continues, increasing the amount of force with each blow until he can make out a crack.

A smirk grew on his beak, and his visor began to glow before a blast of his laser shoots at the weakened spot. On impact, the beam scattered into smaller extensions of itself, increasing the area of damage. It proved enough and the shield shattered. The red wisps of energy flung outwards, dissipating into the pink haze around them.

With a chuckle, his eye settled back onto the dragon lying in a puddle of his own blood. At least it looked as though all that twitching from earlier has stopped. Coming closer, he took notice that Ghidorah looked... thinner somehow. Yeah, he was definitely thinner, he can even make out the shape of the bones in his tails. Something was wrong, very wrong.

“Ghidorah, you awake?” Probably not, given the lack of a reaction to his precious forcefield being destroyed. Those six eyes were still open, still glassy and unfocused. Even those crests have lost their glow. He gave one of those faces a light kick with his foot. Nothing.

The damn thing doesn’t even breathe, so he couldn’t use that as a means to check for life. Does Ghidorah have a heart? A pulse to check? If he bleeds, he probably has some equivalent to such, right? He pulled up the files in his memory bank of what his Masters knew about the wyvern, but beyond the origin of his existence and the mind-control chip, they had nothing else. No anatomy, nothing.

It took a moment before Gigan abandoned his efforts to dig deeper, and he decided to test for life the only way he knew how. He kneeled down beside the dragon and with a blade, he sliced a cut through a patch of scales that was still free of blood-stains.

He scanned the wound for a few seconds before realizing, the dragon wasn’t bleeding.

....

Shit.

Changing course Chapter 24) Safe Keepers

.-.-.

Piglet had taken Ivar’s demands to heart and had the decency to portray herself as a cheerful companion. The ten years of being a slave taught her to mold herself into the perfect image, to whoever had a claim at her. 

Ivar didn’t buy her overcompensation for a bit and refused to eat anything he hadn’t seen her previously take a bite from herself. Piglet, the queen mother of spoiling meals. 

But Ivar would rather have this actress clinging to his lips and dancing to his needs then have Piglet relapse into that impossible state of smolder and angry eyes. 

Piglet talked more, too, which meant she spoke over four words. She kept her talks to basic chit-chat; about her labour, about the animals. The cold, the kitchen bitches. But it was nice to hear someone speak in his mother tongue while playing a game.  

“Have you seen the fair maiden?”, Ivar asked bluntly while it was Piglet’s turn to throw the knucklebones. 

Piglet’s dull stare and raised eyebrow told him enough; she was playing dumb again. Ivar pulled the golden necklaces from his pocket and let the cross spin in front of Piglet’s face.

“The fair maiden who gave me this,” Ivar continued, “have you seen her recently?” 

Piglet was clearly not amused that he brought up his “quote-unquote” mistake. It showed in her bearing, although she tried her best to maintain a blank face. 

“No”, was her simple and short answer and she threw the knucklebones on the floor. “Your turn.”

Ivar wasn’t willing to settle with such a useless answer and swiped the bones away. 

“Speak the truth Piglet,” he warned her. 

“I am,” Piglet stated, annoyed. “Play Ivar,” she pushed and nudged her head to his balled fist. 

‘And we’re back at four words’, Ivar thought to himself, rolling his eyes as he tossed the knucklebones in the sand. In a flash he counted the pieces and smirked.

“I win”, he stated and Piglet huffed, “you lose, Piglet.”

Recollecting the bones Ivar dared to ask Piglet a very direct question: “Have you ever been in love?”

Piglet smiled, but it wasn’t her bright smile that showed her perfect teeth and crinkled her cheeks into dimples. This was a condescending smile. 

“I hate men, Ivar.” She testified and pretended that his question did not take her off guard. His words turned her jittery, made her fingers wrinkle and unwrinkle the tattered fabric of her skirt. 

Ivar noticed: “But yet here you are, playing games with me. I’m a man.”

Piglet seemed appalled by his statement and made a face as if he’d forced her to eat a slug. “Maksura,” she nodded to his legs and then eyed up at his crotch, “you’re broken, you don’t count as men.”

This was a very nasty blow below the belt and Ivar’s jaws tightened. She was pushing all the right buttons to make him stop speaking to her, questioning her. Digging into her personal realm of secrets and mystique. Her spiteful words were the only defence mechanism she had against him.

So, after managing a clear face, Ivar calmly continued his interrogation: “aside from my handicaps, I’m still the thing you despise. Yet you’ve cared for me from the start. Before Ludolf returned home. You didn’t have to do that, yet you did and remained doing, even after I treated you like dirt. Why?” 

Piglet stared him dead in the eyes for a while before crossing her legs in her lap and straightening her back. 

“You have a Djinn inside of you, spirit,” she spoke toneless, “it’s right behind your eyes and it comes out in anger. Djinn will protect you, but feeds on you. You’re cursed Ivar.” 

Ivar felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck spike up by her confession and took a moment to let her words sink in. Her confession made sense; it verified the feelings of always being different. A fraud, a changeling. Maybe his brother’s spiteful accusations held a sense of truth.

“Two peas in a pod,” Piglet locked eyes, “I have Djin too. It never comes out, hides. Protects me from inside, keeps men away.” She let her eyes roll back and made a spastic neck motion, “My curse, my safe keeper.” 

Although Ivar still had one more question to ask as a rule of their three-question-game, he quietly picked up the knucklebones. Throwing them into the sand he wished he’d asked a different question. 

.-.-.

Piglet’s revelation left Ivar conflicted and troubled. He wished he could simply scoff at her words and label her mad for speaking such foolishness. But the longer he thought about what she explained to him last night, the more sense it made. 

Everything.

His lack of empathy, this unearthly feeling of being dead inside. Maybe that was hitting the nail on the head; death, maybe the Djinn was the cause of his explosive nature, his unhealthy satisfaction of seeing other people’s suffering. Maybe there was a thing inside of him that feasted on his heart, soul, of all his emotions. 

He’d always been an outcast, not just physically. He did not think like other men. He was different, ruthless and cruel. 

But then, how could Piglet be a kindred spirit? Her empathy was overwhelming and much stronger than her hatred towards the Christians. She loved her animals and had a nurturing soul. 

They were as different as day and night, inside and out. A dualism, an opposition of each other. Ivar’s rage had always been external and explosive. His relentlessness to survive had proven itself more powerful than the Christian’s death penalty. 

Piglet’s force was that of the imploding kind, shaking her to the core and forcing everyone around her to take a few steps back. 

They were as different as fire and ice, yet their paths had been intertwined. Maybe long before they physically met. For Piglet had been his savior from day one and the first woman he’d felt generally concerned for, aside from his mother. 

It’s right behind your eyes, oh how Ivar wished he’d been able to have a glance at his own reflection. He realised he hadn’t been able to take a good look at himself for a very long time. And maybe that was a good thing, because he hadn’t had a proper bath or shave ever since King Egbert’s broken promise. His short hair had grown till the tips of his shoulders, all tangled up and impossible to put a brush through, if he had  that luxury. He’d never had a lot of facial hair, but now a scraggly beard had climbed his face like last year's ragged vines after a severe winter. 

Ivar feared that he would not recognize his own reflection and, after Piglet’s revelation, maybe not even his own bright blue eyes. 

What if he’d see something behind his eyes, what if he’d witness something unearthly staring back at him? 

‘Two peas in a pod, two peas in a pod, Ivar spent his day with gloom, staring across the box while his mental state deteriorated. 

“I’m going mad Piglet”, Ivar confessed when the slave girl placed his meal near his feet. 

Piglet hummed aloof and started eating. She was forced to be decent to him, but that didn’t mean Ivar could count on her sympathy. 

Which annoyed him dearly, but exploiting her to shed a tear and hold his hand would make him feel feeble and weak. 

Ivar decided to take another turn and started talking, just for the mere sound of his mother’s tongue. He spoke of how he was Viking, a fearless, seafaring raider. He left out the part where he threw up the entire content of his stomach due to seasickness and the time he nearly pissed his pants during the storm. 

Piglet didn’t buy his grandiloquence bluff but listened to him without any interruptions. Of course, she did not believe the crippled slave of de Haar was being honest. Ivar was aware he didn’t resemble the imposing berserker he was portraying himself to be. 

“I once slaughtered a Christian, you know?” Ivar revealed when Piglet rolled her eyes and scoffed at his speech. 

“When I was a mere ten winters young,” he continued watching how Piglet stilled and sat back down, “I ripped him apart and used his bones for my tafl game. Maybe once I’m done with the Giant we can use his for our three-question-game, eh?” 

His grotesque statement made Piglet shudder and bite her lip, but then she eyed the chains that kept him locked inside the shed. 

“Caged Ivar,” she told him firmly and almost taunting, “crackbrained.” She added with a smile creeping up her face. 

Ivar shot forwards, howling when he felt the cuts on his back stretch and was abruptly stopped a few inches in front of Piglet’s face. 

“I will burn this castle down until there's nothing more than ashes,” he hissed, bearing his teeth. If he wanted, he could grasp Piglet, send her back to the ground and overpower her for daring to look at him so boorish. For a moment his hand twitched, but turned into a fist and slammed itself down into the sand. 

“Ivar the martyr, Ivar the bloody,” Piglet belittled, “Ivar full of shit. Ivar slave. Ivar dog with muzzle.” She barked as she flinched back to avoid his fist smashing her nose. 

“And what does that make of you then, huh Piglet?”, Ivar shouted. “You’re just a mediocre, foul bitch, with despoiled skin and seizures.”

“Still bitch without a leash,” Piglet informed him, mockingly. Her laughter echoed through the shed as she jumped the border of his box to avoid being hit in the face with Ivar’s bowl. 

.-.-.

A/N: Well that was almost half a chapter of them not getting into each other’s hair. So close. So the Djinn, I came up with this possibility a while back when I wondered where Piglet’s reselicance to keep Ivar alive comes from. She needed more than just a caring nature. Pity didn’t seem right, so I wanted to give her something inside of Ivar she’d recognize within herself. She’s an outcast, not just for her skin. She has a handicap too. What I liked in Vikings is how Ragnar explained to Ivar that his crippled legs were his strength. I still feel strongly that Ragnar only said this to coach Ivar into taking revenge. But still, a very strong message. So, basically we have two cursed outcasts versus a castle. I always love the underdogs. 

Xoxoxo Nukyster 

The kickass beta: @sarahh-jane

The tagged ones:@youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax @saldelys​ @shannygoatgruff@pieces-by-me@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa@readsalot73@lauraan182 @conaionaru@sarahh-jane@peachybonelessIf you’d liked to be tagged, please let me know:)

Why Azula Doesn’t Deserve a Redemption Arc

With the Avatar Renaissance, I've seen quite a few people say that Azula deserved a redemption arc. I disagreed, despite her being my 3rd favorite character, and wrote a whole essay about it!

This is strictly about Azula in the show, not the comics!

Avatar: The Last Airbender is not only praised for being one of the greatest children’s cartoons created, but also creating one of the greatest character redemption arcs possibly in animated history.

Prince Zuko started as a bitter child, wanting only to restore his honor and be seen by his father as a valuable member not only to the Fire Nation but to Lord Ozai’s family. He spent years putting his heart and soul into a mission that was meant as a joke to keep him away, but when Prince Zuko actually finds the Avatar, Aang, it’s the first time he has had hope in a long time. That hope, though, was a flame tended by hatred, anger, and fear that he let get the best of him for two seasons of Avatar. And while there are moments in the show where he shows vulnerability and his true colors (see: “Zuko Alone”), his traumatic past overshadows any positive step he could truly take even if he had the best intentions.

It is in the third season where Zuko truly shines, standing up to his father and his sister, an abusive family where he hardly ever feels like he belongs, and joining the Avatar and his friends who he had betrayed so many times to finally do what was right and aligned with his morals instead of his father’s. It is with the love he had gotten from his Uncle Iroh from the beginning, and the compassion of his newfound friends, that he fights his own family for the sake of saving the world only to take his place as crowned king of the Fire Nation.

The reason I go into brief detail of Zuko’s character arc is to explain how fleshed out it makes his character. The questioning of himself, his morals and his motives truly make Zuko human. It makes him relatable, as nearly all true heroes in media try to be. There is an argument to be made that, despite his trauma and his warranted anger, he is not a three dimensional character in the first season of Avatar, but instead an angry child that wants his way no matter what his true motives are. Making Zuko end up on the “good” side was his fleshing out, and making him come full circle made genuine sense for the show.

So if Prince Zuko was able to get a redemption arc, doesn’t that mean his sister Azula, who also went through an immense amount of trauma, would be able to get one too and have it be just as great or make just as much sense?

No. I genuinely believe that giving Azula a redemption arc would not make sense for her character or the show.

Azula, Zuko’s younger sister and only daughter to Firelord Ozai, is seen as, what I believe to be, the secondary villain in Avatar. She was born with a natural talent for firebending, picking it up more easily and far younger than her brother Zuko did. Her personality type was nasty; she was a cunning, manipulative bully with relentless determination that reflected poorly on everyone around her. She commanded the attention of anyone in her presence, took what she thought was rightfully hers, and would not stop until she was the best -- the best being Ozai’s true approval.

In her introductory scene at the end of season 1, Azula does not even speak but it is not hard to see her emotions come through on her face. Beyond the “evil smirk” commonly associated with “bad” or “evil” characters, there is the radiating pleasure of being donned a serious task by her father. By the time you were to finish Avatar, it is clear to see in this 3 second introduction of Azula as a character that she is willing to do anything her father asks of her, thus turning into anything she would do to gain the respect and honor that Zuko also seeks out. It can be argued that, despite Azula receiving praise from her father both in her past and in the show, she never receives the honor that Zuko does.

In season 2, Azula is already cruel to those working for the Royal Family. This is to be expected, as she is only a 14 year old girl with the whole world wrapped around her talented finger, but the confidence and power in her tone as she commandeers a ship cannot be ignored. To have that ability and that intimidation at such a young age shows the complex that Azula develops with each success and conquer, only to end up being her downfall. When she reunites with her childhood “friends”, Ty Lee and Mai, it is through manipulation and fear that she gets them once again on her side (although with Mai and the way she hardly shows her true emotions, it is not as clear). It takes only minutes for Azula to get those on her side, showing the signs of a leader but also of an overlord.

While Azula’s bending powers are far beyond her years, it can be argued that her verbal powers are even stronger. Her confidence, persuasion tactics, and mastery of manipulation can sway anyone from vulnerable children (Zuko when she tried to bring him home as prisoner to her father as a traitor alongside her uncle), to an entire kingdom (not only the Earth Kingdom, but also the Dai Lee that held a leader confident in his abilities to lead the rogue society). As a counter, though, Azula’s verbal skills also lack when seen in season 3 as she tries to play the role of a “normal firebender citizen”.

She is shown at a firebender party having no social skills whatsoever, trying to find others ulterior motives, and overall struggling to fit in. While her traumatic past absolutely had a huge impact on her social skills, on top of being part of a royal family (Zuko shared similar struggles when going to offer to teach Aang firebending), it is interesting to see her confidence falter. In this episode is when we see Azula most vulnerable not only with those her age that she cannot immediately control, but also when she reflects on her mother and being called a “monster”. Those feelings of abandonment after Ursa left the Fire Nation only pushed her beyond her own limits to do anything in her power to keep Ozai’s love no matter how twisted it was

One of the biggest reasons I think that Azula did not deserve a redemption arc is because, much like Zuko, she chose her own path in the very end. If Zuko did not choose to seek out Aang and his friends in season 3, there would be no arc whatsoever. Obviously the writers chose this for him, and I see exactly why they did it. They showed Zuko’s wavering beliefs clearly over the years, despite his anger and his fear of not only change but forever losing his father regardless of how severed their connection had been for years on end. Azula, on the other hand, never showed anything but loyalty to her father and their shared beliefs and cause. There were countless openings for Azula to show some sort of questioning of herself and her beliefs, with the loss of Ty Lee and Mai, her father’s decision to make her the next ruler over the Fire Nation despite his plans as the Phoenix King, and the Agni Kai against Zuko and Katara, but she never did.

The closest she ever got was when her mental state and mental health began to collapse on her coronation day, and even that cannot be justified as questioning herself.

It’s heartbreaking to see the fall of Azula, the pressure put on her practically since birth finally crashing down around her. All the times that she had been called “crazy” by Zuko, Iroh, and others that she saw as disposable pawns finally “coming true”. It is when she begins to lose herself, not question herself, that she becomes such a big threat. While before she was cold and so tightly wound up in her ways, seeing the unraveling of trauma and how it can affect a teen girl whose true motivation was love and acceptance was powerful. The scene of Azula hallucinating her mother in the mirror was the acknowledgement of a lost past, a hopelessness that she could never forgive, and resulted in Azula’s genuine intentions to kill Zuko and Katara once confronted. And instead of stepping down, having enough awareness to see herself in such a deteriorating state, she challenges her brother to an Agni Kai.

Azula is truly gone the moment she steps off the throne. And even after she is defeated, instead of accepting the consequences of her actions or what led her to that point, she breaks down instead, forever sealing the potential of any character arc.

TLDR; So why do I believe that Azula doesn’t deserve a redemption arc?

1) She showed no desire to be redeemed.

2) Azula was already so fleshed out that it would not make sense to redeem her. Her anger, trauma, and actions take her down a road she cannot return from.

3) The fact that Zuko got such a terrific character redemption arc cannot be ignored in the sake of arguing whether Azula deserves one. If every character were to be redeemed, there would be no power behind the redemption. Giving both siblings a redemption arc, despite their (partially) shared traumas, would lessen the importance/meaning of the other’s.

4) Despite my personal belief that Azula is not evil, she is not good either. I believe that giving her a redemption arc would be a cheap shot at wiping clean or attempting to validate all of her past actions in at least some aspect. It would be a disservice to her as a character and invalidate her motivations and what she did to get to every peak she hit in the show.

Last night and this morning, I got a bit introspective, so I decided to write my thoughts down. Most of it will be under a cut due to trigger warnings and length.

So, here we go:

I turn 31 soon... and I am going to try and celebrate that fact. Key word is try.

For much of my teenage and adult life, I didn't think I'd make it to 30 years old. I thought I would die from my epilepsy, from disease, or by my own hands. I wanted to stop hurting, to stop being in physical and mental pain, so I spent a great deal of time considering how to end my life. Over and over, I'd think about how I felt like I amounted to nothing, that I wasted my life, that my existence was something to apologize for. Over and over again, I listed the ways I failed myself and the people who care about me. Wanna see that list? Well, here it is: 1. I failed out of my teaching internship two months in (2012). My parents wanted me to be a teacher, and thus I thought I wanted to be one too. I kept pushing myself to be something I didn't want to be, and I failed not only my professors, but the teacher I worked under alongside the students I taught. In doing so, I also failed myself by not paying enough attention to my rapidly deteriorating mental health until I was self-harming and severely suicidal. I couldn't trust myself to drive my own car to and from places because, during every drive, I'd think about whether the bridge I drove over was a good place to die. 2. I dropped out of grad school a few months after that, and I did so without consulting my family (2013). They were unhappy with me for putting my physical and mental health first, that I wasn't the daughter they envisioned. I wasn't someone they could brag about to their friends anymore. 3. I have thousands of dollars worth of debt between college loans, medical bills, and maxed out credit cards. 2015-17 hit both my husband and me hard due to sudden job loss and unexpected expenses. We went several months taking showers at our friends' homes because we couldn't afford to pay for oil; we also ran space heaters during the winter to stay warm. In late 2019, we had our house foreclosed on because we couldn't afford the mortgage payments, and we had to move. 4. I have never worked a full-time job. In fact, I've been at the same dead-end job for nine and a half years. I get paid my state’s minimum wage for a job that has been detrimental to my health, and I have almost nothing to show for it. 5. I've lived with the same chronic tension headache for eight years now, and all I have to show for it is a bunch of failed medications and thousands of dollars in medical debt. On that note, my pain doctor helped me discover that my body has essentially been in constant defense or stress mode for years. It’s partially why I’m in near constant pain. 6. I've tried for two years to get pregnant, and I've been unsuccessful at every turn. It feels like something is wrong with my body, and I don’t know what it is. I feel broken. I’ve been waiting since June to hear back about my referral to an endocrinologist.

7. I’m currently at my highest weight. Part of it is due to medication (looking at you, Keppra), but most of it is due to unhealthy eating habits and not exercising. I’m working on correcting this, but, as of right now, my self-image is low. It does not help that I’ve had body issues since I was very young.

8. I have mental illnesses that make existing a challenge. Moderate to severe depression, OCD (and two of its friends: trichotillomania and dermatillomania), and anxiety are the big ones. I’m also starting to suspect I might have some form of autism, but that remains unclear. Outside of that, I also have issues I struggle with like confrontation, anger, guilt/personal responsibility, and the inability to trust my memory. I’ve been on a waiting list to start counseling for months.

9. I don’t have a healthy relationship with my biological family. Currently, I don’t talk to any of them save for the rare phone call to my grandfather or occasional Facebook comments. Part of my brain knows that there are valid reasons to keep my distance: history of abuse, their cult, and the fact that all of them, save for my grandfather, smoke. However, that does not stop the other part of my brain from wishing I could have a loving family like my friends, something I get jealous of quite frequently.

10. I feel like my life is currently in a holding pattern. What I mean by that is this: I feel like I can’t get a new job right now because I’m trying to get pregnant, and I don’t want to take maternity leave with a new employer. Because I haven’t been able to get pregnant, despite my best efforts, I’m stuck on a medication that makes me feel physically and mentally awful. I’m currently trying to figure out why I can’t get pregnant with the help of doctors, but I’m stuck waiting for referrals to go through. All of that leads to my mental health essentially being in the gutter almost all of the time to the point that basic self-care is hard. I have to be told to shower, and I struggle to keep up with chores. I live in a literal mess right now, but I can’t get myself to do anything about it.

You might be asking where I’m going with this. Honestly, when I started writing this last night, I thought the same thing. This list is awfully depressing, and I wasn’t sure how I could turn this into a positive. It also, to part of my brain, feels like I’m just trying to get attention, or I’m throwing a pity party for myself. That isn’t where I wanted to go with writing this post.

This is where I wanted to go with it:

I don’t know where I, or much of my generation, got this from, but I thought I’d have everything all figured out by now as an adult. It turns out that no, I don’t, and I still have a lot of learning and growing to do. Just because I’m no longer in my 20s, and I’m not where I want to be, does not mean I’ve failed. Just because I’m struggling right now does not mean I always will be. Yeah, right now, things are kind of shitty, and I can’t control a lot of it. However, I can control some of it. I can control how I respond to my environment. I can control how I react to things like work. There are little things I can do and focus on to make existing not as bad.

I don’t know if I’ll be in pain for the rest of my life. I don’t know if I’m able to get pregnant. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to be a librarian like I want to be. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to my ideal weight. I don’t know if I’ll be on medication for the rest of my life for my epilepsy or mental illnesses.

I don’t know a lot of things.

What do I know? That I made it this far, and life does not work in black and white like my depression thinks it does. There are grey areas. There are spots of happiness and joy to be found. Sure, they may not be huge, and they may not last long, but I can still cherish them all the same. I can still smile when I see my cats sleeping near me. I can still enjoy the smell of lilacs in late May when they bloom. I can still celebrate when I manage to complete a task.

I can celebrate being alive without trying to measure my worth in accomplishments.

Most years, I tell people to not make a big deal out of my birthday, or I tell them it’s not worth celebrating. It’s just getting older and nothing else. For years, I felt like my existence was a burden, that I wasn’t worth celebrating at all, and that it was selfish of me to want to have a happy birthday. I don’t want to do that this time around. I want to celebrate being alive. I want my birthday to be a good day.

Last night, as I started writing this post, I also realized that this year marks the ten year anniversary of my grandmother’s cancer diagnosis and death. She was the most important person in my life for many years, and I still miss her terribly. The fact that she isn’t here, that I can’t talk to her on the phone, that I can’t go visit her, or that I can’t celebrate our birthdays together (our birthdays were a few days apart), hurts like hell. She wasn’t there when I graduated college or got married, and she won’t be here if I manage to have a child, and it hurts. When I was 21 years old, I celebrated my birthday with her for the last time. Since then, I never felt like celebrating that I was born. I didn’t want to celebrate without someone I loved.

I want this year to be different. I want one day where I can allow myself to be happy, and one day I can celebrate making it this far. I want one day where I can be a little selfish and be like, “Yeah, I got older, and that’s awesome.” No, my grandmother isn’t here to celebrate with me, and it sucks, but I know she’d want me to be happy regardless. Out of everyone in my life, I was always 100% sure she loved me no matter what. I questioned whether or not everyone else I knew loved me: my parents, my sister, my other relatives, my friends, my husband).

Never her. Not once.

This picture (now removed) was taken in 2011, the year she received her cancer diagnosis, on Easter. It’s one of my favorite pictures of her because of her smile. Because it’s one of the last pictures I have of her with her smiling. I don’t know why I decided to share this, but I just wanted to show her.

I’m turning 31 without her, and that hurts. It’s okay that I miss her. It’s okay that I’ve been struggling. It’s okay that I’m not where I want to be right now. But, for one day, at the very least, I’m going to celebrate turning a year older and being alive. I know she’d want me to.

If you’ve read this, thank you. I hope you’re doing okay. Please remember to stay hydrated, take your meds if you need to, eat if you haven’t, and to take care of yourself.

Love,

Kai

I want to write something about Sarah, heaven forbid my memory fails me someday.

She came to us with a broken femur. She was 92. Her surgery to repair it went well. She was 92, but still had things to do. She followed all the doctor's orders. She worked hard with physical therapy every time they came to see her. She worked hard to maintain her independence.

All the time she loved us, her caregivers. She was one of those patients that really made you love the job. She made it so you even appreciated the dirtier, less pleasant work. She made you want to do it just by being herself. She asked us about OUR days, how WE were doing, she wanted to hear about OUR lives.

Her children visited in some combination every day. Every single one of them was as sweet as her. They frequently gifted us with food & smiles & gratitude.

Next thing we knew, aweek had passed & she stopped progressing. We were so sure we would be able to send her to a skilled facility for rehab by now. But things kept going wrong. Small things that kept adding up. Preexisting comorbidities that previously had been fairly in control were beginning to bubble up to the surface. But she wasn't ready to succumb yet. She had things to do, life to live, people to love.

She ended up being on our floor close to a month. As one can imagine, there's a tendency to really get to know a patient when they're with you that long & you see them at least 3-4 days a week, 12 hours a day.

She loved to celebrate our good days with us, she loved to hear about our partners, children, activities outside of work. She also encouraged us to speak of our exasperations to her, so long as we were comfortable. It was impossible to be uncomfortable with her in any capacity. Inevitably, we opened ourselves to her as much as she did us & the lines between professional & personal would blur.

She keep deteriorating. She grew increasingly weaker despite her efforts with physical therapy, her consistency with eating & drinking & medication compliance, & her determination to keep doing her own ADL's as much as possible.

Sometime in week 3 her ability to swallow began to fail. She was given a nasogastric tube for nutrition & most meds. Unfortunately, the nutrition they supply have a tendency to wreal havoc on the GI tract & accidents are common.

She had managed to get from the bed to her recliner with PT, but had not been helped back before they left for the day, so the task fell upon us. We went to move her & her legs would. Not. Respond. Not even the uninjured leg. You could see the panic in her eyes as she tried & strained only to completely fail to summon the strength. It ended up taking a small group of us techs & nurses to get her up & pivot to the bed.

Once she was in the bed, I was tasked with cleaning her up a bit, which had become necessary due to the exertion. As I was washing her, she began sobbing.

She lamented how she had come to this point. The day she fell & broken her hip she had been driving her car. She was still living alone. She was walking & shopping. She was doing her chores, seeing her children & grandchildren & friends & going to church. She was still cooking & cleaning and & hosting. "No one has wiped my ass but me in 90 years, now I can't even do that myself!"

It's hard to know exactly what to say to people when it comes to this, when their minds & spirits are fully intact but their bodies fail & they're suddenly nearly or completely helpless. All you can do is listen, gently validate their feelings, assure them that there is absolutely no shame in what's happening to them. That you are in no way judging them & you are here to help in any way possible. In this specific case, I made the decision to offer up a little of my own vulnerability as well.

I told her about The Snow Mound Incident ™️. I prefer to spare this particular audience many of the details, as it is not for the squeamish. Essentially, I found myself in a predicament very similar to her most acute GI upset, which we were handling as we spoke. A key difference being well, a mound of snow at a ski resort in western NY state.

I asked her first if she was in a place mentally to hear the story, & if she was then I wanted to tell it because I felt it might lift her spirits a bit. She obliged.

I set the scene. I provided the necessary context & events which led to my misfortune. I embelished small bits & built up proper suspense. I drew it out just enough & imbibed as much comedic value & timing as I possibly could, then dropped the climactic bomb at the expense of my dignity. By the time I was finished her whole body was trembling. She was still crying but this time it was because her laughter was so intense.

She was still cracking up as I tucked her in & tidied up around me. I asked if she felt better. She said yes, thanked me, and hugged me goodnight.

I was off a few days & when I returned she had yet again taken a turn for the worse. Her doctors, nurses & therapists were rapidly running out of ideas. Her body just seemed to be giving up no matter how hard she fought. When I arrived, I was informed that her, her children & her doctors had mutually decided to stop fighting & she had been put on comfort measures.

Needless to say, this was devastating to everyone. All of us on the unit had become so invested in her & had come to love her dearly. It's never easy to lose a patient, but it's so much more difficult when they & their team work & fight so hard only for their bodies to still fail them.

She hung on almost another week. Her children & grandchildren were there around the clock. We turned a blind eye when 2 or 3 of them would stay the night.

I dreaded being off another few days, afraid I would come back & she would be gone. After I clocked out before my 2 day break, I spent some extra time with her & her family in her hospital room. Christmas had come & gone & the decorations from her children & grandchildren still adorned her hospital room. The lights were off save for the the gentle Christmas lights lining her window. We talked & laughed & held hands for awhile then we took time saying goodbye. Everyone in that room hugged me so warmly & spoke so kindly. Sarah was groggy but still lucid. She too hugged me tight, thanked me for taking such good care of her. She said she felt so lucky to have ended up on our unit, with our staff & that she loved us all & wished us nothing less than wonderful futures. I got in the car & sobbed.

The day I came back I had been moved from day to night shift. She somehow knew it was her last day. She knew I would be working that night. I clocked in at 5 minutes to 7 then made a B-line down the hall to her room.

Before I got there a cathartic sort of commotion sprang from her room.

As I stepped through her doorway, one of her children cried upon seeing me. "Oh Sam! You JUST missed her!"

She was gone. She ceased to breathe seconds before I got there, on New Years Eve, 2016.

They told me she had been asking about me all day. She knew she was leaving imminently & tried to hold on to say goodbye to the night shift crew.

We all started hugging & crying together. Several of my coworkers entered the room & we all hugged & cried.

More of us than necessary helped give her body a final bath & fresh linens. She truly looked peaceful. She looked beautiful & better than she had the last 2 weeks.

After completing my routine duties with my patients I went & had another cry in the breakroom.

A few weeks later we recieved a letter from her family. It praised all of us, from the doctors to us aides for our work, dedication, compassion, & love. They named 6 or 7 of us by name, myself included.

I copied that letter & hung it in my locker. I read it every shift, sometimes more than once if the shift was rough. That letter got me through some really tough days.

I don't have a huge reason for writing this tonight other than I was thinking about her, missing her, & missing my job. I felt like more people needed to know about Sarah & how amazing she was. I guess I hope too that anyone in the medical field who stumbles across this gets a boost from it. Things are historically tough for us all right now, notably those of us in the field. People are burning out extra fast & extra intensely. But maybe this will serve as a reminder of why we do this, & how mutually impactful patients & providers can be to each other.

May Sarah & her memory always keep me grounded & focused on why I do this. I love you Ms Sarah, thank you for all you did for me too.

just kind of need to vent some fears i have right now throwing this into the void style but

i know i desperately need to start therapy, have for a long time but i think i’ve realized this week why it scares me so much

it’s not that i’m so much afraid of sitting down and talking about...well, everything, but it’s that i fear my life getting better

i fear growing and healing and being happier because i don’t know what i’ll do when the next inevitable tragedy happens

i’m scared it’ll undo all my hard work or hit me ten times harder

i’m scared i’ll meet new people or even fall in love (fat chance) and something will go horribly wrong

after all, my parents both had pretty shitty lives for a long time but finally found happiness it seemed like and then...bam, worst fucking thing imaginable

and i get that that’s...life. i get that nobody gets to be happy and only ever be happy and i get that horrible things can happen to anyone at any time, regardless of whether they’ve happened before but i dunno

it just seems...safer this way?

like yeah, i’m deeply miserable and can’t wait to die but isn’t that better than actually enjoying life for a second only to be body slammed back into misery?

what if life’s got even more fucked up shit in store for me and i do all this goddamn work to overcome my trust issues and abandonment issues and just...all of it and then i just have something happens that’s almost as bad as the worst thing that’s ever happened to me?

i guess that’s...childish of me? stupid of me? silly and irrational? but i don’t know how to not feel that way when a massive part of my problem is that one day i woke up to a suicide by someone that promised me they’d always be there for me.

i already feel like i walk on eggshells all the time and am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop

if i hear a loud noise downstairs i don’t think, “oh, someone probably dropped something” or even just “what was that?” i think “dead. they’re dead. someone just died and you’re going to have to see it”

and even with all of that aside like...what life am i even supposed to have?

my parents need me. my dad’s old and has a lot of health problems so i’ve been taking on even more responsibilities around the house and that’s only going to increase the older he gets

their relationship has...deteriorated. it’s not constant fighting but it’s been enough that it’s also got me on high alert and i’ve had to intervene several times because i don’t want either of them to say some shit that’s going to really hurt the other and i also just don’t want them yelling at each other

i genuinely worry about what would happen if i were to move out, i feel sometimes like i’m the only thing holding this all together and like...yeah, that’s not really fair to me but at the same time too...i would have ended my shit a long time ago had it not been for them so i feel like...what choice do i have but to stay? might as well, right?

if i’m too chicken shit to get better because i’m scared it’ll all fall apart anyway then i might as well just stay stagnant and stay here and just take care of them and try to keep the peace as long as i can and whenever they’re eventually gone i figure if life’s okay i’ll just ride it out until the end but if not...well.

idk. i know that the obvious answers are here and i know what anyone or any therapist would say if i were to say these things. that i need to just get over this and learn to want to live my life for myself and not worry as much about what’ll happen because that’s not my responsibility

but i feel like i already let down one person i really loved in the worst way so i owe to my family to do this, to stay here and to help out however i can

and yeah, it’s not ideal but it’s at least the devil i know so it feels better than the alternative

the downside is i know it’s going to cost me everything else

i know nobody wants a fucking sad sack who won’t get her shit together and isn’t going anywhere in life

i know i offer little to nothing because i can barely muster up the energy to be enthusiastic about my own interests and just generally speaking i suck

yeah, i’m good for a laugh here or there but apart from that? that’s about it

i can’t seem to form any hobbies or do any activities that might be fun because trying new things makes me suicidal as shit when it’s supposed to be like...fun, but it’s not

i feel like all i ever do is bitch and moan and nobody likes that, that gets old really fucking fast and i know that

i don’t blame anyone for giving up on me or losing hope because i did this to myself and nobody but me can get myself out of this and well...i don’t know if i can or if it’s even worth it

so i just...don’t really know what to do

and maybe this is just my very bad brain at the moment and when i go back on my ~medication i’ll change my mind and want to actually get better, regardless of how terrifying that is, but i’ve spent this entire week crying my eyes out because the thought of it just feels so fucking overwhelming and impossible

i dunno. i’m sorry to anyone who reads this because i know this is... a lot, but i’ve been holding this in for a long time and this entire past year has really been hard on me

i try not to talk about it because i know it’s a bummer and i know it just pushes people even further away from me, but i don’t think it’s helping just bottling it up and pretending like it’s not all i can ever think about and again...i genuinely don’t know if i can do the therapy thing because...yeah

i also just need to get this off my chest because i haven’t said it on here or to anyone but i also lost my dog a few months ago

i genuinely don’t know what happened to him, i think someone may have straight up stolen him because some people moved out of one of the houses near us and i know he’d been going over there sometimes so i’m not sure if that’s the case, if it is i just hope they’re taking good care of him because he’s a very sweet boy who doesn’t deserve anything bad to happen to him

we’ve looked everywhere for him and we don’t have those people’s information and even if we did i doubt they’d admit, “oh yeah, we stole your dog!” so i’m really not sure but naturally the last time i ever saw him i was trying to do some work outside and i needed to just get it done but he wanted to play so i told him to just wait until i was finished and then i’d play with him, so he wandered off and that’s the last time i ever saw him

i’ve felt like such a fucking asshole over it and i’ll scroll through my phone looking for something and see pictures of him and i just...can’t. i still keep hoping he’s just going to reappear one day, tail wagging and wanting a hug

it doesn’t have as much to do with everything else but it’s just kinda like...damn, dude.

oh, and my grandmother has lung cancer and doesn’t want treatment so there’s also that

my relationship with her has broken down pretty badly so i’m not horribly torn up about it but i know it’s going to be hard on my mom and so like...even more reason why i feel like i have to be here, y’know?

idk. it just kinda feels like my life isn’t really mine and maybe it shouldn’t be because i’m not sure i can handle it, i’m not sure i can handle it getting good only for it to possibly get really bad again and i know that there’s always the possibility of it just...being okay and that maybe bad things will happen, but they won’t be traumatic and awful but...taking that risk just feels impossible and ultimately i don’t know that it’s worth it because at the end of the day it’s...me.

i figure i already inflict myself on enough good people who only deserve good things and if i’m to fade into the background of my stagnant life then that’s probably for the best because all i do is make things worse and needlessly difficult even when i don’t mean to so it’s not like i really deserve to get better anyway

i’ve rambled enough and if i keep going it’s just going to get more whiny and pathetic so i’ll stop myself but i’m hoping maybe like i said if i can just...put these thoughts here then maybe i can make it through tomorrow without crying?

probably not, but it’s worth a shot, i guess. again, this may just all be temporary given my current mental state, but i’ve also been putting off therapy for a long time since before this week as is so...not sure that’ll really change any time soon. i had almost worked up to just doing the damn thing before the pandemic happened and then...well. feel like i might have missed my window of opportunity if i ever was going to do it because in some senses i’ve gotten better at managing all of this, i guess, but in other ways i feel like i’ve just fallen even further down the hole and trying to climb out feels like it’s guaranteed to just get me hurt even worse so i kind of want to just stay down here.

i’m trying not to give up completely or be totally hopeless about the whole thing, but at the same time...yikes!!!

Ignorance is a bliss

Imagine if “come to gusu with me” ends up with wwx passed out of exhaustion before he could reject the offer. Lwj did brought him to gusu and under the jurisdiction of the elders, after wwx is nursed back to health, his demonic cultivation must be sealed and he must received say maybe 15 lashes as punishment for straying off the righteous path before were sent to seclusion with lwj so that wwx will finally be ‘cleansed’. Wwx wasnt happy ofc but what he could do with his powers are sealed away? Now , 5 strokes of discipline whip may cause a cultivator bedridden for months, how about to a non cultivator ? It must affect them severely so that is why discipline whip can never be used to a non cultivator. Lwj was forced to a house arrest guarded by three disciples due to him trying to (forcefully) persuade the elders to not hurt wwx. Lwj never thought that the elders were so hell bent on punishing wwx , where he promised wwx that gusu will be his safe haven (oh lwj, ignorance is a bliss).

The elders of Lan assumed that wwx’s core is still intact but maybe diminished due to demotic cultivation. So they still proceeded with the punishment. But halfway through the session, wwx lose consciousness and healers were called to heal him so that they could finish the punishment.However, upon trying to heal him , the healers discovered that wwx does not have a golden core. Lxc was horrified and ultimately barked an order to bring wwx to the sect’s infirmary to put him to rest. Glaring at lqr and the elders , he told them if wwx did not survive the ordeal , they would have become a murderer.

Lwj was devastated on the state wwx in. Wwx had a bad fever due to infection despite how hard the healers were trying to use medication. Bandages were changed thrice a day to ensure the infection does not spread to other parts of body. Wwx never gained consciousness for 3 months. He was delirious in fever as his health rapidly declining over the days. Healers concluded that wwx may not he able to perform his daily routine without help as the whip has cause major backlash on his physical and mental health.

After a discussion, the lans decided to finally informed the jiang sects of the situation wwx was in. JC was on his way when wwx woke up. Wwx was in confusion and struggling to get out of his bed. Lxc and lwj had to restrain him to ensure he doesn’t hurt himself. The last thing wwx remembered that his back and legs were excruciating painful and people in white robes are the cause of it.Paranoia settles in him causing wwx to be on alert every second and never utter a single word after waking up, not even to lwj. For wwx, lwj has brought him to gusu because he hated wwx so much that he let those people hurt him. He was betrayed.

Although he was reluctant at first, he forced himself to eat to regained his strength and escape this hell. When the jc arrives at gusu with a group of disciples , lxc and the elders met them at the entrance leaving lwj and wwx alone at the room. Wwx for the first time spoke to lwj, requesting for a new change of robe. “I just dont want anyone to see me in this dirty robe” . Lwj acquiesced.

When lwj came back with new set of fresh robes and a basin of hot water , wwx was gone. Due to the envoy from Jiang sect , the entrance was not guarded as usual and wwx miraculously managed to flee gusu. Wwx put his guard up even he has successfully escape and ran to the most secluded part of Caiyi town. After resting for few hours and after the adrenaline was gone ,wwx realised that he was severely injured and crippled. His left leg cannot be bend without causing painful jolt like feeling. Him running all the way from gusu to caiyi with a bleeding back and hurting leg was indeed a miracle. Now , if walking was painful , then running was courting death. With careful planning using his survival skills and experience , wwx continues his painstaking slow journey and enters a forest , opposite direction of gusu and lotus pier. Wwx was last seen by a fruit vendor of Caiyi Town ; limping away without a trace.

Lwj without a doubt used an inquiry to find wwx , but wwx was an ambitious lad. Wwx somehow managed to create a talisman that can hide his presence even to spirits. Jc has issued posters all over the place , in hopes that someone might give an intel for him to find his brother but to no avail , no one has a clue of where wwx has been gone to. Wwx - like a ghost , has disappeared . JYL and JXZ was also at deeps end, unable to trace her missing brother. Other major sects also keep an eye for wwx, though the Lan clan has claimed that wwx’s demonic cultivation was sealed and was severly injured, who knows what can that young man do ?

Timeskip to 13 years later, JL LJY and LSZ (assuming that the siege never happened, but lwj adopted a-yuan as per requested by wq and wn to ensure he was raised at a proper & healthy background and the wen remnants survived and disperse for safety) was attacked at goddess temple only to be saved by a mystery crippled guy with mask (JL: a non cultivator nonetheless!) (LJY: what an amazing talent ! Only using talisman to beat the statue!). The teenagers were awestruck with the masked man’s skill, that they wanted to thanked him with a meal and few drinks but was rejected and the man leaves.

JL who never accepts no for an answers suggest to secretly follows the man so that they can send drinks or some offering for him to his house instead. Ljy and Lsz tagged along as they were curious of their saviour after all. A non cultivator cannot detect presence like a cultivator do, so the man was unaware that he was tailed. Upon arriving an old shack with a small potato farm , the man limped and sat with a grunt. Taking off his mask , he took a bottle of water and consumed a few concoction of medicine before coughing. The teenagers was surprised on the living condition of their saviour. JL however upon seeing the face of the man, went wide eyes.

“That man, he was in the poster my jiujiu used to issue around LP . My A-niang talks about him a lot,” looking over his other two confused companions. “I can never forget that face. The face that always make my mother cry upon looking at his picture and frown at his name. He is my missing big uncle , Wei Wuxian of Jiang Sect.”

“Ah i heard about him. Apparently our Elders punished him until he was missing his golden core , i think? Or is it the other way around?” Ljy spoke. “But i think the limping was the consequences from our Sects’ punishment. That time , Lan sect and Jiang Sect almost broke the treaty. I heard Madame Jiang managed to convinced your uncle to stop”.

They saw the man plowing a part of his potato field ,who occasionally stopped due to his heavy cough and resume his work. “Wwx , he is the person my father has been looking for the past 13 years. I need to let him know” Lsz finally spoke, smiling.

“Oh my potatoes , I hope you grew up fat and yummy for this master over here! I need more money , or i wont be able to buy medicine. You dont want me to die yet are you~” sang wwx. The 3 looked at each other and finally decides to leave for their respective inn, bringing a joyous news for their leaders.

Next day, both JC and lwj accompanied by the 3 went to wwx’s house. Both heartbroken on the state of the old shack . Knocking the wooden door and clearly listening on the voice mumbling from inside “who the hell would come here early in the morning at middle of a forest”, jc and lwj was shocked on the physical appearance of their missing person. Sunken cheeks and dark eyes as indication of fatigue , limping , voice hoarse from sickness and the obvious whipping scars marring from behind his neck to under the ragged clothes , jc couldnt help but to greet wwx with a hug , holding him so gentle in fear that wwx would break with the slightest of strength. Wwx frozen in shock couldnt hug back but made eye contact with lwj. “Weiying, please forgive me that I couldn’t protect you. I am very sorry.” After 13 years of internal pain and agony , wwx for the first time shed his tears . “I forgive you , so you all should leave me alone. I am a burden. Im no longer a cultivator , but a crippled man with not much time to left. I am nothing but a burden. Please” sobbed wwx.

“Idiot. Give us a chance to take care of you. A-jie misses you so much, every day and night. You haven’t met your nephew , Jing Ling . Don’t you want to eat her soup? And about your health, i can call WenQing to help you. She is still the best doctor alive. Come back with us , okay ? And no one will hurt you. “ jc.

Wwx was shocked to hear wq was still alive and her name was spoken by jc without an ounce of hatred. What have been happening for the past few years he have been isolating himself ? With shaking hands , he grabbed jc’s robe and nodded. He made another eye contact with lwj and could see how sincere he is from his eyes. Maybe , all this time , the fact that lwj hates me and sending me to my demise was all a misunderstanding?

“I am no more a cultivator.”

“It’s fine , WeiYing”

“I cannot contribute to Jiang sect anymore.”

“Who cares about that, idiot?”

“I’m going to be a burden !!! I cant even walk properly. My health is deteriorating”

“WeiYing, if tired , I can carry. Let me take care of you when sick”

“Lan Zhan, i dont want to go to gusu”

“We can go anywhere other than Gusu.”

“I wont let you take a single step to that damn place , no offence Second Young master Lan”

“None taken.”

———

(Alternate ending)

Wwx was still unconscious and attacked by a high fever due to infection in his wound. Numerous method has been used to mitigate the after effect of the whip , but to no avail. Infection starts to spread to his legs, and wwx was delirious and moaning in his sleep due to pain. The severity of the wound caused both of his legs to sepsis and the healers has no other way than to amputate the legs to make sure that the infection will not spread internally.

After the surgery of removing wwx’s legs , the infection are able to be minimised but still needs to be monitored. Still, wwx has no signs of waking up. Lwj was loyal to his side , taking care of changing the bandages . Every night , lwj had a nightmare of the reaction of wwx waking up with no legs . One particular nightmare that haunts him the most is weiying took out his own life out of despair. Lwj couldnt sleep for two nights watching over wwx after that nightmare occurs.

After 6 days, lqr visited the room and berates lwj for neglecting his duty as a student of Lan sect. Lwj angrily talks back, and was taken to kneel in the hall for one day. When he came back , no one was watching wwx. He came back with pure silence from wwx .Where there should a ragged breathing from wwx , it was only silence. Wwx’s usually pale lips was ashen. Bandaged chest that should be heaving was still. Wwx finally succumbed to his injuries after 11 days of fighting and lwj (again) was not by his side. His sect (again) are the cause of pain for his beloved ones and has taken everything from him.

—-

Wow took this one hour and a half. This is my second time posting here. 😋 enjoy?

-b

Becoming: Chapter 8- Cater to you

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N:Settle in for this one. It’s long. Please share, and comment. Let me know what you would like to see happen. Will Liam come through or disappoint her again? Will Raymond lay off?  

Disclaimers: All characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Sexual content. FLUFF, ANGST SMUT

Catch up: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Word Count: 3945

Pairings: Liam Rhys and MC (Karis Vasquez)

Song inspiration: Cater 2 U- Destiny’s Child

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.​ 

In Paris

It’s been a long awkward day and a text message from Liam left her even more deflated. She told him that it was ok, and that she understood but in the back of her mind she wondered if this was only a glimpse of the canceled plans, a portrait of how much of a priority she would be if she became his queen. She started to pour herself a glass of wine to soothe the sting in her heart she felt. She stopped and instead took a long swig directly from the bottle. Then she tucked the entire bottle under her arm and headed back into her room. 

The next few days seemed like a blur. She texted Liam every day but kept things light, knowing that anything more would spill her true feelings onto the surface. Liam called her early Thursday morning. She dared not answer, sending him directly to voicemail secretly hoping it would elicit the same response as it had last week. She also knew that he knew her well enough that he would recognize the disappointment in her voice straight away. 

In Cordonia

Braxton sends a weekly report to Liam concerning Karis’ safety. He has run off a few paparazzi who have taken pictures and noticed one guy following her a few different times, but never close enough to do her harm. Each incident is immediately reported to Liam. Liam was sitting trying to balance a budget following one of his father’s recent hospital stays. After a budget meeting, Liam just can’t seem to figure out the origin of a recurring charge that started the day he came back from Paris the first time after he reconciled with Karis. He confides in Regina who confirms his suspicions.

Meanwhile in Constantine’s office

The phone rings, it’s a phone call he had been expecting.

“Sir, I have the intel on KV, faxing it over now.” The fax comes through and Constantine reads it over. 

Impressive, the orphan daughter of an alcoholic and a junkie, and still manages to get a full academic scholarship. Pre-law major with a minor in political science, she had maintained a 4.0 GPA her entire collegiate career while holding down a job. No criminal record, no parking tickets, a credit score of 815. Currently in Paris on a paid internship at Alaris Avocats. Lives alone. The only company she has entertained since in Paris is Liam, one Mr. Matthew David Carusso, and Raymond C. Perry. 

He tucks the report into a drawer when he hears a knock on his door. 

“Liam, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Father, I wanted to come to deliver the news in person. The council met while you were in the hospital and voted that due to your health and deteriorating mental capacity you are hereby relieved of your duties as the reigning monarch of Cordonia. You are now just a figurehead until my coronation. I told myself that your mental state must be the reason you are gambling with fate.” 

“Son, I don’t know what you mean?”

“Save it. Let’s make one thing clear dear Father if we have to revisit this conversation it won’t end well. I have finally managed to do an audit for the month of June.”

All the color drained from Constantine’s face. 

“You will pick up the phone this instant and order your man to stand down or you both will face my wrath.”

His face falls. “How did you–”

“The moment I left Paris I put a man on her. I know you don’t know what it means to protect the woman you claim to love. You failed my mother, but you taught me what not to do. Here’s what you fail to realize. I will protect her with my life. Your guy has been made 8 different times. Fortunately for him, he never got within 100 yards of her. My guard has been given an order to end anyone who attempts to harm her. 

Meanwhile Thursday afternoon in Paris

After taking a leisurely stroll alongside the Seine River to clear her mind Karis got a text from Raymond. 

She was just about to respond when there was a knock on the door. She grabbed her piece and headed to the door. When she cracked the door secretly hoping that it was Liam, she was disappointed to find a stranger in a black suit. She takes the safety off the .22 Liam left with her.

“Who sent you?”

When the man spots the gun, he ducks around the corner.

“Whoa, I am sorry if I scared you ma’am. Ms. Vasquez? I have been sent by Prince Liam. Could you put away the gun and come with me?”  

She closed and locked the door and put the gun down in front of her while she called Liam to check the story. 

The phone rang only once before he answers. 

“Hey, angel!”

“Adonis, don’t you hey angel me. Did you send someone to my place to pick me up?”

He laughs, “Yes, and you pulled a gun on him?”

“That’s not funny. I was scared. What is going on? Where is he taking me? What do I need to bring?”

“I’m sorry, your right dear. I definitely didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to surprise you. Just bring you and stop with all the questions, future attorney. Just leave your weapon at home.”

She removed the magazine and placed the gun back in her small safe. She grabbed her purse, locked her place and followed the stranger out to a town car where again she was expecting to see Liam. Alas, the car was empty. He opened the door and when she settled inside, there waiting was champagne, flowers and chocolates.  She smiled as she wondered what Liam could have possibly meant when he said that he wanted to “surprise” her. She knew that if it was anything short of him physically being in her presence she wasn’t interested. 

The car quickly navigated the streets of Paris and before long approached the airport. They pulled onto the tarmac where Karis saw the private jet with the Cordonian seal. She had never seen anything like it before. Her mouth went dry, her pulse raced and her heart felt like it was going to explode in her chest. Did the jet being here mean that Liam was inside? Before she could investigate further the door opened and the driver in the black suit took her hand to help her out of the car. 

“You’ll need to board now, Ms. Vasquez.”

She made her way over to the steps of the private jet, a cocktail of nerves, adrenaline, and excitement course through her body as she ascended the stairs. When she gets to the top, there is a thin blonde who greets her. 

“Lady Karis, on behalf of the captain, and flight crew welcome aboard. I’ll show you to your seat and make sure you have a comfortable flight. We should land in Cordonia in approximately 2 hours and 48 minutes. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do to make your flight more comfortable. 

“I guess I’m going to Cordonia then, huh?”

The flight goes by quickly as Karis reads an ABA journal. She resists the temptation to text Liam and ask more questions. When the plane landed Karis met a handsome older gentleman named Bastien, he was the head of Liam security detail he leads her to a black suv with dark window tents. It looked very similar to the one she spotted in New York the night she met Liam. The door opened and finally, there he was; he looked exhausted. He wore dark shades to hide the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t shaven. Black slacks and a crisp white dress shirt with the first several buttons undone. Damn, he was sexy. She went to greet him properly but Bastien stopped her. 

In Cordonia

“Not here, Ma’am.” he hastily helped her into the car and they sped off down the Cordonian roads. Liam gave her an apologetic look as he reached across the seat taking her hand. 

“Hey, Angel.” 

“Hey, babe. Are you ok? You look terrible. What is going on?”

“It’s a long story. I’m fine. I will explain it all when we arrive at our destination.”

“Adonis? What is the meaning of all of this? Why couldn’t I hug and kiss you? You don’t have a wife or fiance’ your hiding do you? I told you from the start I don’t like bullshit.”

He smiles. “You definitely went into the right field. You are the only woman in my life. You couldn’t kiss or hug me because the paparazzi were all over the place. I will let them know about you when the time is right. They can wait, but for now, I want you to myself.” He squeezed her hand. 

She raised her eyebrow, “If you say so.”

“Where are we going? I am not dressed to visit a palace and I’m starving.” 

“Then lucky for you, I have all of those things covered.”

Just then they pull into the underground garage of a modern residential building situated on a hill. There are armed guards outside and inside the garage. The driver opens the door for Liam, and he comes around to open the door for Karis. The moment she is on her feet Liam pins her against the side of the vehicle, his lips taking hers in a deep, desperate, longing kiss. She grabbed him by the collar. Her knees buckled and when he finally pulled away they were both breathless. Her eyes widened as she wiped her mouth. 

“What has gotten into you?” She smirked, still catching her breath.

“Welcome to Cordonia,” his deep voice rumbled in her ear. He smiled before taking her hand and leading her past the armed guard who stood at attention, into an elevator. He scanned his thumbprint before pressing a button for the penthouse. Bastien had gone ahead of the couple to apparently make sure it was clear. The elevator beeped and the doors slide open to reveal a modern open concept floor plan with floor to ceiling windows. 

“It’s my apartment. Make yourself at home.” 

Liam leads her through a large bedroom into the closet which is the size of her whole apartment back home. There are mostly men’s clothes and one section with an assortment of women’s clothing.

“Adonis, whose clothes are these?”

“Your’s. Everything here was selected specifically for you. It’s all in your size. You will have several options for the entire weekend. I know that you must be tired after the flight. You will find a basket in the shower with your pear-berry shower gel, scrub, and body butter. There is another basket on the counter top with a new tooth brush and anything else you might need. If there is anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask. Meet me out on the terrace.”

She stands there as tears threaten to spill from her eyes. He snakes his arms around her waist pulling her close. Her back is firmly against his chest. He gently kisses her on the sensitive skin of her neck. 

“Hey, whoa, please don’t cry. I promise to feed you after you shower,” he whispers in her ear. She smiles instead turning to gently slap him on the arm.

“You did all this for me?”

“Of course, I want to give you the world.”

“I don’t need the world, Adonis. I just need you.”

She winds her arms around his neck clasping her hands together. She kisses his lips sweetly. “Come shower with me,” she says against his lips. 

He smiles nervously, “Karis, I–”

She pouts, interrupting, “You don’t want to?”

He chuckles, “I absolutely want to. But it’s not a good idea. Our food will be cold and we have some things that are very important for us to discuss. But, I promise after, we can take as many showers as you want. There’s a tub in there too.”  

“Ok, I’ll be quick.”

He kisses her on the cheek and leaves her to get dressed. When she stepped out of the shower she moisturized and wrapped a towel around her body heading back into the closet. She finds an assortment of lingerie in a gift bag wrapped in tissue paper. She is impressed. There are at least a dozen sets in different styles and colors. She decided on a pair of black lacy panties, a black bra, black shorts and a white blazer. She finished the look with some black and white pumps. She finger combed her hair and put on some lipgloss and headed out to meet Liam. 

Liam stands to receive her and his jaw drops eliciting a blush from Karis. She bites her lip as he pulls out her chair. 

“Karis you look, wow–”

“Thank you. Please, sit down. While I am hungry, I am more eager to chat about what you wanted to discuss.”

He motions for the chef to bring their dinner. When the entrees are uncovered Karis swoons.

“Adonis! Shrimp and grits? You remembered?” Hot tears spill from her eyes. 

“Of course I did. It was the very first meal we ever shared. He reaches across the table and wipes her tears with his thumb.” 

“I’ll get to it. I believe that it will give you a clearer picture of why I had to alter our plans this weekend.”

She starts to eat. “I’m listening.” 

“First, as you know my father is ill. He has spent a great deal of time in the hospital. In turn,  I have had to assume a great deal of his day to day duties. Because of his continued absences, the council had a meeting and has officially removed him as reigning monarch of Cordonia. It has essentially ascended me to the throne as new king of Cordonia. It will be official the night of my coronation. Because of the timeline my coronation has been moved up and the traditional social season won’t happen. I have to choose a fiance by my coronation. You are who I choose. You will always be my choice. Baby, my queen, I need you here with me, by my side.”

Her breath catches at his words. He is going to be the actual king of this beautiful country and he wants her of all people to be his queen.

”I want to be by your side, Adonis. I just have to figure out how to do that without compromising who I am.”

“I’m holding on to that. It’s not a no. I know that you hadn’t made up your mind. But if you decide that this is what you want we would move forward with your citizenship. I know we talked about you needing a house to sponsor you. There will be three houses Domvallier, Ramsford, and Cormery Isle essentially courting you for the opportunity to sponsor you, starting with a welcome ball tomorrow night in the duchy of Domvallier, a brunch on Saturday at Cormery Isle and Saturday night there will be a Beaumont bash.”

Overwhelmed, Karis attempts to change the subject. “Adonis, what about you? You have been talking about me this whole time. You have been working hard, doing your father’s job, you look like you haven’t slept, and planning this weekend for me? Let me just take tonight to take care of you.” 

“I’m listening.” 

She stands moving around the table and kisses him sweetly on his lips before pouring apple juice into his glass. She takes his fork, feeding him forks full of food while he runs his hand up and down her soft bare leg. She noticed the swell in his pants and smirks and shakes her head. 

He smiles seductively. “I have to say that I am thoroughly enjoying being fed by my woman. How else pray tell are you going to take care of me?”

She picks up his glass and places it in his hand. “Drink your apple juice.” 

She grabbed the ceramic dish of apple preserves from the table and saunters back into the apartment, looking over her shoulder at him with hooded eyes.

He stands gulping his apple juice down quickly and followed her inside. She leads him to the bedroom. She grabs his hand and motions for him to sit. 

“I’ll be right back.” She goes into the bathroom and starts a bath, lighting the aromatherapy candles to set the mood. 

She moves back into the bedroom and kneels at Liam’s feet. His expression is unreadable. She unties his shoes and removes them, then his socks rolling them and place them neatly inside his shoe. She stands and bends at the waist making sure he gets a clear view of her cleavage as she removes his cufflinks and begins unbuttoning his shirt. She ran her fingers lightly down his chest before unbuckling his belt and pushing his trousers and boxer briefs to the floor. 

“Karis–”

“Shhhhh,” she interrupts, placing one finger on his lips.

She takes his hand leading him to the bathtub. She turns off the water and invites him to get in. 

“Are you joining me?” he asks. 

She winks and bites her lip, “No, this is about you. Not me.”

She soaks a towel and lathers it up and begins to bathe him. He relaxes under her touch allowing her to take care of him for a change. He was sure that as she toweled his body they would connect. She instructs him to lay across the bed where she begins a full body massage starting with his feet. While she rubs, he groans.

“Tell me, if you had your way, what would this weekend look like?”

She moves to the other foot kneading it with her hands before moving to his calves. His eyes were shut, and a smile crept slowly across his face. Clearly he was enjoying this pampering from the woman he loved.

“In a perfect world, I’d be able to convince you to move here with me when you leave Paris. There are so many reasons that it would be ideal.” 

She takes more oil in her hands and starts to stroke his thighs. 

“I’m listening,” she says. But touching his body the way that she is, backfires and it is turning her on just as much as it seems to be turning him on. She squeezed her thighs together trying to hold off the white hot passion pooling in between them. 

“I spoke with the dean of admissions at Cordonia U and you could still graduate by December if you did your last semester here. It’s a great program and it would be an asset, seeing how you are interested in international law.”

“I’m not convinced, but I’ll consider it,” she said as she straddled him and rubbed up and down his abs and pecs. 

His hands move to her waist, “Karis, I really want to talk more, but I can’t concentrate with you being this close to me, touching me like this,” he growls as his hand slowly starts roaming up her side. She moves his hands and rolls off of him. 

“I didn’t tell you to touch me your highness,” she smiled. 

“Please.”

“Hands behind your head.” she said in a quiet voice. 

He complied. She straddles him again and rubs oil on to his bald head as she kisses him. Their tongues tangle for a few moments before Karis moves down to nip as his neck and shoulders. 

“Mmmmmmm, angel.”

She takes some of the apple preserves leaving a trail of it down his torso. She then takes her tongue swirling it around his nipple, before she places hot open mouth kisses down his torso licking the apple preserves. His length is so stiff he looks like a sundial. She bites her lips, her eyes dancing. 

“See something you like my queen?”

“Oh, you have no idea…”

She crooks her finger beckoning him closer. He grinned as he rose from the bed. She backed him into the wall, hands gripping his thighs. He goes to tangle his hands in her hair. 

“Hands behind your head, Adonis. Let me take care of you.” He huffs, but complies. She takes her hand and with her thumb smears the bead of pre cum over his tip. She licks him from base to tip before taking the head in her mouth. Liam’s head falls back in ecstasy. She twirls her tongue around the tip while pumping the shaft with her hand. As she bobs on his length taking more and more with each movement. 

“God, you’re an angel. Your mouth is heaven, my queen.” 

She looks up at him and leans in making him completely disappear into her mouth. She can feel him throb and twitch and knows he won’t last long. She doubled her effort as she massaged his balls. It was enough to send him over the edge, and he exploded in her mouth. She stood licking the spillage from her lips and then swallowing while gazing into Liam’s eyes. He collapses on the bed.  

“That was insane.”

She blushes, “well I am clearly crazy over you.” 

He laughs.

“I know, that was cheesy.” She pops the button on her blazer letting it fall off her shoulder. 

His breath visibly catches in his throat. “Karis you’re resplendent.”

She shimmies out of her shorts and panties. 

“Keep the heels on.” Liam says as he sits up on the edge of the bed. 

Karis slowly sways her hips over to Liam straddling his lap taking his lips in a hungry kiss. His strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her in close, his bare chest against hers. He breaks the kiss.

“I need to taste you.” he says in a deep baritone voice that vibrates her chest. 

She pushes him back onto the bed and straddles his face steadying herself with her palms on his chest. His large hands palm her backside guiding her as she rolls her hips on his tongue. 

“So wet and sweet,” his muffled words send electric pleasure currents through her body as he continues to use his tongue with precision. He inserts a crooked finger in search of her g-spot. He alternates from licking to sucking her swollen clit as she moans his name. “Oh, Adonis!!!”

“Let me hear you, my queen.”

His words are enough to make her come undone. Her thighs clench on his head and he continues to flick his tongue as she creams in his mouth. 

He flips her over, pinning her ankles above her head. “Your legs go on for days in these heels,” he says. Her only response was a smile as she was still catching her breath. Her sensitive clit still throbbing, Liam plunges easily deep inside of her tight center and she howls. 

“How does it feel?” he asks as their bodies slap together, sounding like a slow clap at first.

“Adonis, you are incredible, but I want to be on top.”

He gathers her in his arms and flips her on top without breaking their connection, “as my queen wishes.”

He takes her breast in his mouth as she plunges down on his length. Her pace picks up and he lets out a primal roar meeting her rhythm. “Yes, my king! Give it to me.”

He rolled his hips and tugged her hair. Her body spasmed and tears flowed from her eyes. Watching her orgasm is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. The combination of her moans, the grind of her hips and the clinching of her center around his length was enough for him to join her over the edge. He pulls her onto his chest and just as they both begin to fall into an easy slumber, there is a knock on the door. Liam slips out of bed and into his boxers before cracking the door. 

“Sir, it’s your father. I need you to come with me.”

Tagging:

@txemrn​​

@pixie88​​

@khoicesbyk​​

@blackkingliamstan​​

@mom2000aggie​​

@shannonwrote​​

@shanzay44​​

@bbrandy2002​​

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@hopelessromanticmonie​​

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@fanjessfic​​

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@dcbbw​​

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@lucy-268​​

@choiceslady​​

@twinkleallnight​​

@blackkingliamstan​​

@bebepac​​

@shanzay44​​

@mainstreetreader​​

@romereadingshop​​

@romewritingshop​​

@lem-20​​

@texaskitten30​​

@maurine07​​

@queenjilian​​

@secretaryunpaid​​

Arnold Chiari Malformation Blogs: How it all began & getting a diagnosis

This is the first in a series of blogs where I’m going to be writing about my experiences with Arnold Chiari Malformation (ACM, as it will be referred to from here on out), ranging from how my condition suddenly worsened and made it itself known, all the way to present day and how it affects me now. These will all be likely very long posts, but there is a lot of information to share and it is all integral to address, so that people reading this who don’t know much about the condition can understand exactly what the condition entails and how it feels to actually have it. I’ve split the whole ‘story’ into five parts and will be working to get those typed up and released as soon as possible. What I want to start with is how my condition made itself known to me, having laid dormant internally for 15 years of my life and the ordeals I went through to secure a correct diagnosis. It all started on a perfectly normal day - I was playing Simon the Sorcerer 3D (I’m blaming the game for it all because it was bloody awful and broken beyond all belief) on the family computer. I got to a part of the game (among many others) where the game had glitched and I couldn’t progress any further. I accessed a walkthrough online and read how to navigate around the glitch. I then started to feel nauseous. I tried to carry on as normal, but the intensity of the nausea increased rapidly and I had a really massive headache, one of the worst that I had ever experienced up until that point in time. I had to give up on my game and laid down flat on the settee. Before long, I was having major coughing fits and had to run to the toilet to be violently sick. This, of course, made the headache worse, so I ended up making up a bed on the settee and having to stay on there. I was too weak to do anything and I kept having to rush to the toilet at the drop of a hat to be sick over and over again. After a few days, my other symptoms from what we assumed was the flu started to subside but I was still being violently sick multiple times a day and had agonising headaches that lasted all day and all night. I assumed the headaches were an issue because of how often and how forcefully I was being sick multiple times a day. Months passed and I was still the same. I’d been to see my then GP a couple of times since regarding what was happening to me. Because I had been diagnosed with OCD and depression from the age of 11, he immediately assumed that my symptoms were a physical manifestation of my mental illness, so just upped my dosage of whatever I was on at the time and sent me on my way. I was going to college by this time, after I had to leave secondary school due to being bullied to the point of...well, not being in a very good state of mind, I’ll just put it that way. Somehow, I managed to attend classes and go when I should do and even went on a trip to Alton Towers with the group I was in there, all the while getting worse physically, having to excuse myself from lessons suddenly to go and be sick and having headaches so bad that I had to lay my head down on the desk. Walking to and from college (which was literally a ten minute walk from my house) become more perilous as my balance became affected...on one occasion, I was crossing the road and a car was approaching faster than I anticipated. I tried to run the rest of the way over but my legs immediately collapsed from under me and I fell flat onto the road, about six feet in front of the car. Thankfully, the driver had seen what was going to happen and had the foresight to slow right down. However, I couldn’t get myself off the road because I was dizzy and my legs didn’t want to cooperate and no one stopped to help me or to see if I was alright. I walked the rest of the way home in tears. I didn’t know what was going on and was obviously shaken from what had just happened as well as the sheer rejection from the public who just acted like I was invisible even though I was in dire need of help. Sadly, after a few more months of this deterioration, I had to stop going to college because I was too poorly to make it through lessons and the journey to and from college was way too risky. From one end of the day to the other, I laid flat on the settee and was just enveloped in a complete world of pain.  I persisted with my GP, insisting that there was something physically wrong with me, as opposed to it all being ‘in my head’ (ironically) and that the medication he had put me on my own wasn’t doing anything to stop the headaches or the vomiting. He wouldn’t listen to me and even got cross with me at one point and basically told me to stop putting it on to get attention. I felt defeated - I KNEW my own body and I KNEW that there was something very wrong but no one would listen to me. I could see and feel that it was getting worse. My balance became worse still, my weight had plummeted because I couldn’t keep any food in my system, I was still being sick multiple times a day and by the end, just bringing up water because my stomach was empty. I was accused of having an eating disorder and once again, doing this all to myself for attention. My headaches had got so bad that one time, I was laid on the floor in the living room because my head was too painful to stand or even sit up and suddenly my body started to move of its own accord. It was like I was rolling down a hill but I was on a completely flat surface. My body kept trying to roll to the side as if to balance itself if I was on a slope. It was completely out of my control and certainly one of the scariest parts of pre-diagnosis. I phoned for an appointment with my GP again, ready to stand my ground and insist once more that my symptoms were the result of something physical. I was angry, in incredible pain 24/7, weak, scared and I just wanted to be heard. When I went to the doctors, not feeling the most confident, I was told that my GP was off that day and I would be seeing one of the junior doctors instead. This made me feel a tiny glimmer of hope but I repressed it just in case he was of the same mindset as my regular doctor and he also accused me of being an attention seeker. When I was called into his office, I took a seat and I was asked to describe my symptoms. As I told him, the doctor started to look more and more concerned. He did some balance tests on me, which obviously I was incapable of completing and within five minutes, he told me that in no uncertain terms that my symptoms were way too severe to be merely a figment of my imagination and that he agreed that there was something physically wrong with me. He told me he’d book me in for an MRI. Finally. Someone listened. Someone believed me. I cried, partly from relief and elation that I had a chance of being saved from whatever it was that was destroying me from the inside out - and partly from fear because there really, truly was something wrong with me. Something seriously wrong with me, according to the doctor I had just seen. The following few months are a blur to me and I can’t remember any real details about what happened or the order in which things happened. I just remember going to Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham multiple times, being prodded and poked and being sent for more scans and then I saw a man who warned me that no matter what a man called Mr White said to me, I should REFUSE to have brain surgery. Under no circumstances should I listen to what he was saying and carry on as I was. He also asked me outright if I thought I had an eating disorder (basically, that I was causing myself to be sick and lose all of this weight - which was getting on for four and a half stones (63lbs) by the point - and made me feel like I had to concede that there was a possibility that could be the case, even though I knew it wasn’t. Of course, being in the sorry state that I was, I couldn’t understand this path of logic and neither could my parents. It turns out the Mr White was one of the leading brain surgeons in the country, specialised in rare brain conditions and would be the one to perform my surgery if I consented. We (as in me and my parents) met him shortly after and well, basically me and Mum fell in love with him. Lol. He was very softly spoken, gentle and kind - completely different to the man we had seen previously. Mr White was the one who told me I had Chiari Malformation Type 2 and what that meant. I was 18 years at the time (bear in mind my symptoms had started when I was 15) so he took his time with me, was very patient because he could see how terrified I was about what he was telling me and told me everything I needed to know and answered any questions I had. He explained why I was experiencing the symptoms I had and how the surgery would at the very least hopefully stop the progression of them getting even worse. He also told me that alongside the ACM, I also had hydrocephalus (water on the brain) and this was putting extra pressure on my brain and squeezing it into an even tighter space. This also meant I had a rare version of a rare condition (as it was known now - the classification of the illness has now been upgraded to ‘uncommon’, which means it’s not as rare as once thought but often misdiagnosed) so any surgery that would be carried out on me was not guaranteed to have the same level of success as if I hadn’t had the hydrocephalus. In fact, my cerebellum (the part of the brain that controls the nervous system, balance and coordination and reactions to external stimuli) had been wedged behind the top few vertebrae of my spine, which was what was causing the disabling headaches. Despite what the other man had advised me to do, I agreed to the surgery. There was no other way I was going to get better. It was scary either way and the decision was completely mine to make. Mr White was extremely concerned as he could see how poorly and fragile I was and was pushing for me to have the surgery before Christmas (I think we went to go and see him at some point in November). However, I was frightened and I just wanted one more Christmas before going through such a huge life event. I wasn’t sure I’d make it out the other side so I wanted just one more big celebration. Even though he wasn’t best happy with me wanting to wait until after Christmas, he agreed but he said he would book me in for as soon as possible afterwards. Basically, time was of the essence, I had a ticking time bomb in my head and it could have detonated at any second. I was too young and too frightened to understand at the time but me choosing to have the surgery a month or so later than was wanted by the surgeon could have cost me my ability to walk entirely or my life if my health had taken another slump.

Hi Lauren! What would that list of questions for people who want to parents be? I'd love to now for my future self,we're thinking in being mothers in 2-3 years and we are going through all the cons we can find, right now we are pretty sure se want to, but more information is always good! Hope your day gets easier for you. Thank you on avance, you are a lovely person, your kids are really lucky to have you

hey soooooooooo i’ve been holding onto this ask for like 2 months and i’m sorry! i’m going to answer below a cut 

i’m not exactly sure what i posted, but i think it was a tag post, and i was struggling with the holidays, and 4 sick kids, one who wound up with ear infections in both ears (baby’s first ear infections, except they’re 11 years old). 

i think what brought on the post originally was that my spawn -- my 2nd born, who is like 11 3/4 years old now lol -- is going through some hard times. they came out as pan and nonbinary this past summer, which wasn’t unexpected. when they were small, they preferred to wear their older brother’s hand-me-downs and got their hair cut short and wore baseball caps most of the time. they liked for people to think they were a boy. so i think they were maybe 7? when i sort of introduced the idea of trans and what that means. 

when they first came out as nb (after coming out as pan), we talked about therapy as something they might want/need. but at the time they were having food issues (still are but not as bad). another thing that was an issue when they were very young, they had pica (still do but not as bad) and we had their blood checked etc to make sure there were no vitamin mineral deficiencies. but last summer and before that, it was more about sneaking food, overeating/eating their feelings, etc etc etc. SO THERAPY AT FIRST was supposed to be about the food issues, then the gender stuff, but it wound up being more about depression, anxiety, and self-harm thoughts. 

here i think is where i was when i made that tag post. for months, we kept all of the sharp things in the house (knives, scissors, razors, everything) in a locked box. i had to sign an agreement with their therapist that i would do these things and that i would tell her if there were any expressed thoughts of self harm etc. before having kids and when they were little, i never never never thought about the prospect of one of them wanting to hurt themselves or actually hurting themselves. (even with my sister attempting suicide at 17 years old and being in a mental hospital for months and me being the one to care for her afterwards because my parents “couldn’t handle it” and with depression/anxiety/addiction etc etc running through my family and my husband’s family). 

and i think that, when people start thinking about having kids, the things people always point to as far as ARE YOU READY FOR THIS are baby things. like the sleepless nights and the behavioral stuff and potty training and stuff like that. and yeah, that stuff isn’t FUN lol but raising older kids is much much much harder. 

dealing with severe illness or death in the family and handling the grief of more than one person? HARD AS FUCK. in the past few years, we’ve lost both of my grandmothers -- one after years battling alzheimers in which we all watched her deteriorate, the other suddenly like 2 days after xmas, and then last summer, my aunt died. she was in her 50s. she battled liver cancer for years and then suddenly the doctors told her to make her arrangements, then within like a month, she wasted away and was gone. and i had to and still am carrying the emotional labor of dealing with this for myself and my kids. and everyone grieves differently. it’s been really hard. 

but i think that when i made that tag post, i was mainly talking about my spawn (that is what i call them because daughter and son don’t fit and they think it’s hilarious) and their self harm stuff. they are also the type to be very sensitive to the world around them. they are naturally clever and quick and empathetic. they carry their friends’ sadness and worry too. they worry about the state of the world and politics and stuff that i had no clue about when i was 11 years old. and i’m still dealing with it. i will forever be dealing with it! and i know it’s the culture of today’s YOUTH (THE YOUTHS!) to joke about death and wanting to die and suicide even. and i get that. like i totally do get that. but being on the parent side of it is different. last night, they jokingly said that they wanted to die a few times. i took them aside and said that it isn’t something that i’m comfortable with them joking about, especially not in front of the twins who are 7, and especially not when they’ve been in therapy for 6 months specifically to deal with these thoughts. i said don’t joke. they said they weren’t joking. and i burst into tears. i have to tell their therapist about this now. and i can’t stop thinking about it. it’s all i’ve thought about since they said it at like 6pm yesterday. 

i’ve gone out of my way to tell them and show them that they are loved and wanted and important. we have strategies for dealing with these things! we’re doing the work of therapy! woo! but also????????? sometimes i wonder if i’d have decided to have kids if i really knew that these were the sorts of things i’d be dealing with. and i honestly don’t know. (to be clear i’m talking about the self harm stuff. idc about the pan and nb stuff. that’s totally not a bad thing and not something i ‘deal with’ if you know what i mean? i hope i’m making sense). 

one of the other things that sort of brought on the thinking (i’m kind of remembering about the tag post and the situation as i’m answering this ask lol) was that my spawn has friends who are gay, friends who are nb or trans, and these kids DO NOT have a supportive home life. their parents? one example is a kid whose mom told them “you will dress like a girl. you will act like a girl. you will call yourself a girl. i don’t care what you think you are.” and they told my spawn (so glad they have my spawn to talk to!) and we had to go to the guidance counselor at the school about it. thankfully their school is so so so supportive! we’re really lucky there. another example is a kid who is gay being screaming at -- locked in the car with their mom and being screamed at that being gay is horrible and that they better be straight unless they want to die???? WHO SAYS THAT TO A KID. 

and so i think partly i was just like......... why do these people have kids??? 

soooooo i think for you, anon, you’re fine. you care enough to plan having kids years in advance! you care enough to ask what you can do to be prepared! 

ugh also that tag post was made right after the older twin fell down the stairs and knocked himself out and had a gran mal seizure and i honestly thought he was going to die in my arms. and like? i don’t think that’s the sort of thing anyone should have to ask themselves. or think about. pretty sure i have ptsd from that. 

i’m sorry because i feel like this is not what you were hoping for. i know there are a lot of pinterest type quotes/sayings that people laugh off because they really are laughable lol but it is true that having a kid is like having your heart outside of your body, in that i love them more than i thought possible and they are not and should not be under my control. they do their own things! they are their own people! as they should be! but when they are hurt, i’m hurt. mentally, emotionally, physically. when they’re sad, i’m sad. when they’re happy, i’m happy. my emotional well being depends so much on their emotional well being. and that’s just the way it is. 

sorry this is so long and if you have any specific questions about parenting stuff i can try to answer. 

Yang’s Mental Health: You Left Us! Why?

Yang Xiao Long, our sunny little dragon, is a character that has a lot of emphasis on her character being that there’s more to her than meets the eye. While she may seem like a carefree, badass boxer with a love for adventure and the unpredictability of it, we as the audience are shown quite early on that she does deal with a lot more beneath the surface.

Even before her amputation and later development of PTSD, we are shown that Yang actually isn’t as happy all the time as she appears to be, and is shown to be deeply affected by the absence of her biological mother; Raven. We’re given a sense that she has trouble actually talking about her problems, even with her sister Ruby or her friends.

So let’s see how deep into her psyche her problems lie, and how the show goes about dealing with these issues that threaten that damper out her fire.

Yang’s Abandonment & Trust Issues

Abandonment and difficulty in trusting people go hand in hand with Yang. It’s not that she has difficulty in growing bonds with people, as we see that she’s open and friendly even to people that she’s never met before, an offset to Blake who’s issues are more trusting people in general.

However, just because Yang can still make bonds with people easily doesn’t mean she expects them to last. It’s explicitly shown in her song regarding her feelings of Blake leaving, All That Matters. She never thought that Blake would always stay with her, because eventually everyone does leave, and the important part of that song is that Yang never asked Blake to commit because of this fear.

Even when she braced herself to what she believed to be an eventuality (everyone she loves leaves her), Yang admits in the song that she never would’ve expected Blake to leave her like she did. When Yang was at her lowest, Blake left without saying a word, and that just cuts her deeper because she was never told why Blake left. It’s the exact same as Raven not giving her a reason for leaving either in Yang’s mind, and to handle with that loss in friendship, Yang falls back on old habits. She clearly shows anger to mask the fact that she’s feeling lost and upset, only letting herself grieve when Ruby’s left the room.

Being abandoned at birth by Raven, and later losing her maternal replacement Summer, at such a young age meant that Yang would have had to rationalise this loss in her own way. Her behaviour both in her later life and from the tidbits we’re given in her conversations with Taiyang can help us see how Yang actually coped with it.

Given that Ruby was old enough to have solid memories of her mother, which doesn’t happen until the child is around five years old, so Yang would’ve been seven at the earliest with Summer’s death. With a child at that age, there are many different ways that they would process the loss, but it would only in limited ways because they are still trying to understand the concept of death overall. The ones that I think apply to Yang the most are:

May conceal their loss

Being irritable, having more tantrums, or developing aggressive behaviour

Looking for the person who’s died

With concealing her loss, we can see Yang doing that exact thing in the actual show. She rarely talks about Raven until she talks to Blake in Volume 2, and it’s implied in her annoyance at actually talking about her with Taiyang in Volume 4 that they weren’t really allowed to talk about this loss before. It’s even worse with Summer Rose, as Yang only talks about her when talking to Blake and in passing comment with Weiss in Volume 5, but both their losses still affect her.but the fact that Blake left so soon and without even saying a word while Yang was at her lowest meant that she 

Her aggressive behaviour is shown even before she developed PTSD. While she’s pretty laid back while fighting, she does quickly jump to violence with her fight in Junior’s bar in her trailer, and that she is quickly prone to angry outbursts at the slightest annoyance. It’s so much part of her character that Cinder takes advantage of it to pit her against Mercury, her previous outbursts with Neon meaning that it’s not hard for the people watching to assume Yang is that violent. 

While Raven didn’t die, her absence is basically the same thing because she isn’t there, and Yang had never seen her until her time in Beacon. Her desire to look for her biological mother pushed Yang to take Ruby and put her in danger when they are attacked by Grimm, and Yang acknowledges herself that her push and want to find Raven almost got her and her little sister killed. This is the only one that Yang seems to have moved on by herself, as she never allows her mission for answers control her life or put people she loves in danger again. 

While it’s not Taiyang’s fault that he fell into a deep depression after that, we do have to acknowledge that he didn’t help Yang through this loss emotionally. Without someone to help her rationalise and develop healthy coping mechanisms to handle her negative emotions, Yang has been left to deal with these problems alone, and that’s led to her doing so the only way she knows how; by simply ignoring them or letting them fester as anger. It’s the same problem I’ve highlighted in my Mentality of Adam post, a child that isn’t given guidance is at danger of becoming lost.

Yang’s PTSD

Before we go into depth about Yang’s PTSD, I would like to mention that there is a difference in PTSD and C-PTSD, or Complex Post-Traumatic Disorder, because that’s the main reason why I don’t connect with some of Yang’s struggles. We both have different forms of this disorder.

The main difference that has to be said is that PTSD is from a singular moment of trauma, like a natural disaster or a single moment of violence. In Yang’s case, her PTSD is caused by her dismemberment by Adam, a singular moment of trauma that continues to haunt her long after the incident has happened. C-PTSD is caused by ongoing cases of extreme violence and stress, such as childhood abuse, leading to victims experiencing particularly intense symptoms.

Moving on, PTSD is one of the central obstacles that Yang has to learn to live with, given that she was very much pushed to the background in terms of development compared to the rest of Team RWBY, at least until her fight with Mercury. At the beginning, we are clearly shown that Yang suffering from multiple symptoms of the disorder; nightmares, flashbacks that trigger panic attacks, insomnia, easily irritable and angered, temporary detachment from Ruby after she lost her arm.

This aspect of her mental state is given a lot of screen time, and Yang is never shown to just get over her fears. Even after trying on her new arm and getting back some of her old self confidence, Yang still shows that she has problems to deal with because of this disorder. She is easily angered whereas before, she could have be in high tense situations without losing her cool that much, especially in Weiss and Blake’s argument in Volume 1 and her talk with Blake in Volume 2. Now, Yang is shown to even snap at her friends when she’s stressed, and her hand shakes as a visual medium to show when she’s starting to get into highly stressful situations.

This even carries on into Volume 6. Her behaviour deteriorates not just because of her PTSD, but also because of the Apathy in the farm, and we see that she still suffers from flashbacks of Adam. When Blake tries to comfort Yang and instead accidentally oversteps her boundaries, Yang is easily offended and brushes Blake off, still showing that easily irritable side that hasn’t quite been dealt with. 

When she finally faces against Adam, she’s obviously in a better space mentally than she was in the beginning of her arc, but that doesn’t mean that her PTSD has now been fixed because you can never fix a mental disorder, you can only manage it. And it shows in their fight. When Adam brings up what he did to her in Beacon, Yang falters, she’s clearly stressed from her hand shaking, but now she’s been taught how to deal with that fear without losing her temper or by buckling under the pressure. As much as I personally deride the hand holding scene with Blake, I will give it credit in that the grounding effect it would have on Yang would help her control that overwhelming sensation PTSD can bring out. 

I continue to hold hope that the writers won’t know push it under the rug just because Adam is dead, given that they’ve treated Yang’s arm as a good replacement without showing how much having a prosthetic affects her, not only mentally but physically as well. PTSD and amputation are not interchangeable. 

Yang as an Unreliable Narrator

There are only a few ways to learn of a character’s backstory and childhood; we either see enough ourselves to put the pieces together, or the character tells someone, and by proxy the audience. This is the same for Yang. While we have only one flashback to show how Yang’s drive to find Raven put her and Ruby in danger, we mostly get the information from Yang herself, but that puts up a serious problem.

Because of the emotional impact the events had on her, Yang has become an unreliable narrator. That’s not to say that she’s completely lying, it’s obvious that Taiyang was severely depressed after losing Summer and Raven, but trauma and mental illness can mean that a person recalls their past in a somewhat tinted way. Not quite completely incorrect, but morphed slightly from the truth.

Yang felt completely alone but we know that Qrow and Taiyang were there for her in terms of helping to raise Ruby and meet Yang’s physical needs, but she has clearly felt that she couldn’t rely on the grown ups in her life for emotional support. Because of this, she has gone to simply burying her feelings on the subject and being there emotionally for Ruby whenever she needed it. A hint at how skewered her perception is, or perhaps the fault of the writers, is what she said to Weiss during their talk.

“My mom left me. Ruby’s mom left too. Tai was always busy with school and Ruby couldn’t even talk yet. I had to pick up the pieces. I had to keep things together. Alone.”

A small mention to the Ruby line. It might be intentional, or a result of the writers keeping the timeline very vague and as such impacting the story, but Ruby would’ve been talking if she was old enough to remember what Summer Rose looked like in that amount of detail. Children start talking when they’re eighteen to twenty-four months old, and Ruby would’ve been older than that. 

The main thing with this quote is how Yang deals with Summer Rose’s death. She puts it in the same frame of mind as Raven leaving, despite the fact that Summer didn’t willingly choose to die. It paints Yang with a severely impacted mental state that she can’t emotionally distinguish between someone willingly abandoning her and someone dying on a mission. As a result, we can’t distinguish enough accurately what actually happened or what is being recalled through Yang’s view.

What she says also goes against what canon established beforehand. We were told that Taiyang was overprotective by Ruby’s shared empathy over Penny’s father being overprotective to her, we know that the two girls have a good relationship with their father through their interactions and their reaction to Tai sending Zwei through the mail. Not only that, but Tai was competent in raising the girls enough that Yang had to wait until he left the house before she could go looking for Raven.

These contradictory statements on Taiyang just shows that Yang is not at a good place emotionally to give the audience a clear picture of what her childhood and her father really were like, and that’s not Yang’s fault. As I said before, she was never taught how to handle these negative emotions properly because Taiyang was struggling with his depression, and because of this tragedy, she’s internalised the grief as well as she could. Unfortunately for Yang, this trauma has morphed her personality but her memories too.

Edit: Also another point that I just had to add on, memory in and of itself is extremely unreliable. Most often we remember how we felt with trauma, not exactly what happened, and that leads to a biased perception on a series of events.

That’s the basis for Yang and her mental state, and given that the main source of her PTSD has been dealt with, we can hopefully see a proper resolution with her dealing with these negative coping mechanisms and become more open about her feelings with her friends. 

Thanks for reading guys, see you all later!