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bansheeoftheforest · 3 years

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Syndicate + gang leader au where Henry kills his brothers

Jacob x Henry because it’s healthier than Lanyon x Henry

-🦎

OK THIS ONE IM ACTUALLY GOING TO TRY TO STAY ON TOPIC TO AND JUST RAMBLE IDEAS AND HCS INSTEAD OF TRYING TO MAKE A GODDAMN MASTER LIST OF EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THE AU JFC HOW DOES THAT KEEP HAPPENING SDJFHSJDF

Anyways <3

Gang leader / Syndicate crossover au:

Henry is the youngest of the three brothers, Raphael and Kent are nonidentical twins. Henry is two years younger than them and has always been the baby of the group. Raphael and Kent have always been protective of him and also love to mess with him.

Their parents were abusive, Raphael and Kent decided to take the opportunity to leave Glasgow the first moment they got and they took Henry with them. They moved to London and one of their uncles-- who owned and inherited quite a successful shipping company by the London docks-- gave Kent and Raphael jobs as Henry went to university. The uncle died before Henry graduated, and left the business to Raphael and Kent.

Henry did not talk a lot to his brothers while in University. He tried to reach out to them but suddenly Raphael and Kent were "incredibly busy", Henry assumed they were busy trying to keep the family business going well.

He went to visit them on their dock after he graduated and got his doctorate. He had learned a lot about the London "culture" and gangs from Robert (and Rachel) telling him everything there is about the London underground and the aristocracy. Much to his horror, he arrived at the docks to find his brothers dressed as Templars.

Henry was quickly forced into the Templar order against his will. His brothers gaslight and manipulated him into joining, other members threatened to hurt him or his friends if he didn't join, and it ended up being Henry's biggest regret.

Henry spent about 13 years in the Templar order working in secret for it. He was allowed to do as he pleased as long as he made poisons for them. In the meantime, Henry tried to make up for the guilt he had from the suffering he had caused by helping people on the street. Hungry, dirty, sick people who quickly becoming loyal to the doctor who always feeds them and gives them what they need to survive.

In this part of the au, Henry more directly creates the gang. He realizes that these people are willing to fight for him and they have placed him on a pedestal. He can't get himself down from it so he takes advantage of it. He makes sure that the Society is under constant protection and that the gang brings in money that can be spent on taking care of the members and keep the Society afloat. No Lodger cares enough for the finances to notice the sudden influx of money, and Henry merely tells Rachel and Robert that it’s “sponsors”.

It was only when the Frye Twins entered and began to liberate London that he decided that it was the perfect time to finally break free from the Templar order. He had long since lost any love he still had for his brothers and he would do anything to be free again. He ended up cornering and murdering his brothers in cold blood while his gang distracted the Blighters, and he blamed the murders on the Frye Twins afterwards, the very same Frye Twins that quickly would... Well... Realize that they did not kill these Templars and instead try to track down the murderer that blamed it on them.

In the end, they find their way to Dr. Henry Jekyll's office. Henry had done a good job and working behind the scenes and no one had really suspected him of working for the Templars, so the twins-- while hearing from Greenie that it was rumored that the Jekyll Brothers and Dr. Henry Jekyll were related-- did not know that Henry himself used to be a Templar.

Henry, however, assumed they had broken into his office to kill him. He had already resigned himself to his own death, he was not going to fight it. He had burnt every photograph and document he had that connected him to his brothers and he had merely been waiting for the twins to come and kill him. He was, honest to god, quite disappointed when the Twins seemed confused and instead asked him if he knew anything about the murder of the Jekyll brothers.

"...The murder of my brothers, the Templars? The murder committed by someone close and well trusted by them, the murder that went undetected, and that was later blamed on you? The murder that had slank past the eyes of public after a convenient gang fight right that moment?"

It does not take long for the twins to realize what he is hinting to. His voice his bitter and his body language is cold, yet it doesn't sound like he regrets it.

ahaha anyways i ended up accidentally just retelling the entire thing well time for some actual hcs about this au branch.

Henry gets extreme paranoia after having murdered his brothers. He swears he can still see their faces of terror or hear their screams of pain and agony when he closes his eyes and try to go to sleep. He constantly feels followed by them, but he is too used with Hyde, so he doesn't pay attention to "them". When he doesn’t sleep, they silently follow him with whatever other hallucinations he have at the moment, like Moreau.

He wanted to be the one to murder his brothers himself, he didn't find it dignified to have someone else do the murdering for him. He generally does not want his gang to murder people, only hurt those of necessity, and he still wanted to give his brothers the dignity of not having to be killed by a random gang member.

Something in him kinda... Died that day. His friends, the Lodgers, and his very on gang could all notice how Henry seemed... Colder, more tired, constantly exhausted. He refused to tell anyone why, though, and he still did everything he needed to do so no one could force an explanation out of him. It was not until the newspapers reported on the murder that people realized that he was acting weirdly because his brothers had been murdered. Henry debated snapping his own neck once the Lodgers began to flock to him with words of sympathy, unaware that he was the murderer.

He is extremely benevolent to his gang, something many feared he wouldn’t be at first. He has always been a kind person and that’s why people began to flock to him as it was, but some feared that he would... Ah, turn crueler after a while like most gang leaders. That never happened, though. He saw each and every one of his gang members as his family, and took care of them as such.

He and his gang began teaming up with Lucy many years before either met the twins. It was always fun when Rachel tried to introduce the two of them without telling Henry that Lucy is... Well, Queen Lucy, and it was always fun to act as if they had never met before and as if Henry hadn’t just been invited to dinner the night before. Henry is really good friends with Patrin and Elise.

Henry’s gang wear blue. The Blighters wear red and before the twins and the Rook started, Henry didn’t want his own gang associated or reminding him of Hyde. Blue it was, and it easily made his gang slip into crowds and disguise themselves to be the Scotland Yard.

Neither Brokenshire nor Abberline knew about Henry’s gang until Abberline started working with the twins and until after Henry was “recruited” by them. Depending on if Henry murdered his brothers before or after he joined the twins, Abberline and Brokenshire helped him cover up the murder.

Ahaha wow Uhm. I keep forgetting how I format and classify these as rambles but anyways time for some Jekyll x Jacob <3 This is just going to be in general btw so <3<3

Henry was incredibly endeared by Jacob from the moment he heard about him. Something about a tall, strong ruffian bringing justice to the streets of London (and fighting Templars) was just incredibly... Ah, attractive in Henry’s eyes. He actually allowed himself to feel that because hell, he works for the Templars and Jacob is supposed to be the enemy, Henry hates the Templars, why not be incredibly gay for the assassin?

Jacob shamelessly flirted with Henry from the first moment the met. Breaking into his office to figure out who murdered his brothers and Jacob could certainly not read the room. Henry was far too gone that he merely huffed and flirted back... Well, until they came to the topic at hand. Even in other branches were Henry was recruited by them to make poisons, or where they met in a gang fight, and Jacob still shamelessly flirts with Henry.

Jacob tries so hard to be romantic. Henry is incredibly amused by it. He will be working in his office late at night and Jacob will pop by his open window to demand attention. He will come back to his office after having ran son errands and there will be bouquets of fresh lavenders, lilacs, and tulips. Jacob will constantly “force” him (or, well, bribe him to leave his work) to go on dates with him, dates that consists of wandering the rooftops of London and watch the stars at night or have a nice dinner together. He loves to spoil Henry rotten <3

Jacob loves cuddles. Henry was not very physically affectionate at first. He was afraid that Jacob would end up doing the same thing Robert did to him and while he couldn’t keep away from him, Jacob made sure to take it slow for him. Their favorite pastime is to cuddle on one of the couches in the train after exhausting missions, and Henry finds that he can’t keep away from Jacob’s touch for too long.

Rachel and Robert began to introduce Henry into the more... Ah, illegal luxuries of the London life. They take him to a fight club and are highly confused when Henry suddenly gets incredibly excited as he watches his boyfriend kick the shit out of people. He completely abandons them and practically fall into Jacob’s (sweaty and slightly bloody) arms the moment the fighting is done. Both he and Hyde love to check out Jacob fighting in fight clubs.

(Jacob post-fight is probably the hottest sight Henry has ever seen and Jacob knows that fully well. Jacob often uses the money he wins from the fights buying gifts for his lil boyfriend <3).

Another ideal date in the eyes of Jacob is highjacking Henry’s carriage and abducting him. It’s all fun and games until he accidentally does that when Jasper, Rachel, or Robert are in the carriage too. That was not fun for Henry to explain.

After Jacob and Evie have liberated all child factories, Henry makes a spur-of-the-moment decision to adopt Clara (the child who wanted the twins to free the children in the factories). Clara ends up getting raised by two very protective and very lovely-dovely dads. She spends most of her time in the Society (while still helping the kids on the street) but Jacob visits her and Henry a lot.

Look I just want Henry and Jacob to raise a kid that won’t come back and try to murder them later on ok.

Anyways on to some other hcs. Jacob loves to make sexual jokes to Henry. Henry either acts dumb and as if he doesn’t understand them, or he will shot them right back until Jacob is the one blushing (or highly embarrassed).

Jacob loves to break into the Society and follow Henry around but make sure he doesn’t see him. He will be parkour over the ceiling beams and all the Lodgers will notice and get extremely paranoid, trying to get Henry to notice it too because clearly something is up, Henry will completely ignore him most of the time.

Jacob rarely sleeps because his work as an assassin rarely allows him to, but once he and Henry starts dating he always makes sure to visit Henry during the night (or have Henry come to the train) so that they can cuddle and sleep together, knowing Henry won’t sleep by himself.

Henry is always the tiny spoon. Always. Jacob loves to hold him. Henry is always cold and Jacob is always warm so for Henry it’s like being wrapped in a blanket and for Jacob it’s like having an ice cube chilling down his overheated body.

Henry gets overwhelmed quite easily, both in general and with their actual relationship. As dramatic and clingy Jacob can be at times, he always gives Henry the space he needs and especially in the beginning, when everything was so new and Henry had to take his time to process everything. Jacob is always patient with him.

Henry likes to create stuff for Jacob. It can be everything from new poisons to new gadgets, to something as simple as a painting or a hand-made sweater he did himself. When the gifts became more... Simple, so to speak, he worried that Jacob wouldn’t like them, but Jacob absolutely loves and treasures anything Henry does for him, although he routinely gives the sweaters and clothing back so Henry can wear them, and so Jacob can get them back and it smells like his boyfriend <3

(Evie always finds Jacob cuddled up with the sweater in the mornings when they can’t be together. She thinks that it’s stupidly adorable).

Jacob stays in London after Evie and Green get married and move to India. He would originally have thought of leaving London to return to the Assassin Order in Crawley, but ultimately decided to stay with his lover in London. After the end events of TGS, the two of them buy a horse ranch out in the countryside where they retire. Jacob occasionally returns to London as the leader of the Rooks, and soon they begin on working to expand the gang to other cities. Henry doesn’t normally return to London, but always eagerly awaits his husbands return. By the time they have retired and moved, Clara goes to University in London, but she always makes sure to visit her dads inbetween her semesters.

They get to die a peaceful death after having lived a long and fulfilling life. Henry died first, his body having gotten weaker after many years of HJ7, and Jacob died only a few days afterward. Clara made sure they got buried in the same grave, and their little farmhouse and their belongings (and their story) has been passed down from generations ever since.

Lydia, Jacob’s canonical granddaughter that lives through ww1, is instead Greenie’s and Evie’s grandchild for this au/ship.

#Liz. Liz i have been writing this for like an entire day. I am so sorry if its not good but! I tried! an #and i keep forgetting what i classify as ramblings. Anyways have some random ideas and shite <3 #ask #lizard anon #banshees au #gang au #syndicate crossover au

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megalony · 4 years

Text

Then he was gone

This is a Harry Styles imagine that has a lot of angst in and is inspired by The Time Traveler’s Wife. I hope you all like it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Masterlist

Summary: Harry and (Y/n) are trying for a baby but both times they try, it doesn’t work out in their favour.

Detailed/ graphic scenes ahead.

Enjoy.

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

"How are we feeling today?"

(Y/n) turned to look over at Harry sitting on her left but neither of them could find any words. Their nervous smiles were enough to convey that they were happy but anxious, but there weren't quite any words they could think of to say how they were feeling.

"Nervous." That was the only word that came to either of their minds which seemed to fit what they were thinking and feeling.

A baby had been something they had wanted since before the got married and the moment they were married, they wasted no time in trying. Now they were finally pregnant it was a mix of every emotion they could ever feel but the nervousness was the most prominent because Harry was going on tour soon but he didn't want to miss anything. The tour had been all set out and planned to the last detail and then (Y/n) got pregnant, it wasn't exactly the best timing but it was the best surprise to have.

"There's no need to be nervous. If you'll lift up your shirt honey we can take a look at your little one." Her voice was soothing and her smile was calming, but (Y/n) was still nervous.

She didn't want Harry to go away on tour in case something happened or he missed anything important. It was already being arranged that there would be a break towards the end of the tour for when the baby was born but (Y/n) knew something could happen before then whilst he was away and Harry knew it too. He wished they'd of had some foresight into the future so the tour could have happened earlier or been scheduled for next year or the end of this year at the earliest. But it was too late now to start thinking like that now.

(Y/n) rolled the end of her shirt up with one hand whilst her other hand was still tangled with Harry's who was sitting straight in the chair, his eyes constantly drifting between (Y/n) and the monitor.

Harry loved kids, he had so many god-children and was a babysitter to many of his close friend's kids. Children of his own was something he had always wanted and strived for and now it was finally going to be happening it made him feel giddy like a teenager again.

His eyes concentrated on the monitor on (Y/n)'s other side as the midwife smiled kindly, moving the wand around the gel on (Y/n)'s stomach for a few moments whilst her eyes switched between the screen and the wand. The longer the midwife spent looking at the screen without saying anything, the more Harry and (Y/n)'s nerves started to increase and spark paranoia.

Surely they should have heard a heartbeat or seen something on the screen by now? The midwife wasn't saying anything, did that indicate that there was something wrong?

"Is everything okay?" (Y/n) tried to stop her voice from wavering as she looked up at the midwife with a growing urgency to know what was happening. But the moment the midwife removed the wand from (Y/n)'s stomach and set it down told them this wasn't good news. She should be showing them their baby on the screen and letting them listen to the heartbeat and print a picture so they could have this memory. She shouldn't be sitting down next to them looking like she was very unhappy to be here.

"I would like to take a blood sample to send for testing because I believe you're experiencing an ectopic pregnancy." Her voice was again very calm and slow but her sad smile made (Y/n) coil in on herself before she dared to look over at Harry.

Neither of them knew what that meant but the way the midwife spoke made it clear that they weren't going to have a baby anytime soon.

"I- I don't... is that like a phantom pregnancy?" (Y/n) shook her head as she spoke because she didn't know what that meant. She'd had a friend suffer a phantom pregnancy before and she had taken that very hard, (Y/n) couldn't imagine how horrid it felt for her to be told her body was just mimicking a baby because she wanted one.

(Y/n) let go of Harry's hand for a brief moment so she could sit up straighter and quickly wipe the gel from her stomach when she felt the need to coil her arms to her stomach and fold in on herself.

"No, I'm afraid it's where the fetus doesn't develop in the womb, it starts to grow in the fallopian tube instead or around the tube rather than the womb. The ultrasound wasn't conclusive but I do believe that is what you're experiencing. A blood test will confirm this and then you'll need to have a small injection and be monitored for a week or two to make sure the pregnancy is ended."

"T-that's it? You can't do anything...?" (Y/n) punctured her teeth into her lower lip to try and stop herself from crying but it was useless, she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes despite her best efforts to stop them. She didn't want to sit here and cry in front of the midwife but she didn't know what to do.

That was it. This pregnancy had barely started and now it had to end so quickly like it never existed. They had been trying for over a year to have a baby and now when the chance rolled around it wasn't even going to work out for them.

"Ectopic pregnancies can't develop, I'm afraid the fetus would need to be in the womb from the start to get the nutrients it needs to grow. You're already at ten weeks so the pregnancy needs to be terminated now or else your tube could rupture. I am very sorry."

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

(Y/n) found herself brushing her thumb over one of the many rings on Harry's fingers. The pad of her thumb started to trace the outline of the golden H ring he wore on his left hand as she tried to calm herself down. The past two weeks had been horrid for both of them and it didn't feel like it was even close to being over yet.

(Y/n) didn't know if she was lucky or not. She knew that finding out like they did was much easier than her collapsing in agony and being rushed to hospital to find she was suffering a miscarriage or that her tube had ruptured when they thought everything was fine. (Y/n) also knew that a small injection was all it had taken to make this pregnancy feel like it never existed rather than having to suffer a miscarriage and wait for the baby to pass or have surgery to remove the baby. But that wasn't the kind of luck (Y/n) wanted.

It had taken them over a year to even get this pregnancy, to have it end like this was not luck.

Moving her head, (Y/n) leaned her cheek on Harry's shoulder as they sat in the rather quiet waiting room at the hospital. It only took two days for the blood tests to come back and confirm what the midwife had told them and (Y/n) had gone straight into hospital the next day for the injection like she was just getting a routine vaccination rather than destroying her baby.

When the doctor had explained everything, one thing (Y/n) and Harry both knew immediately was that they were going to still think and talk about this as their baby. They had been told that with ectopic pregnancies the embryo didn't form properly which was why it couldn't be saved so they didn't refer to it as a baby, but it was. This was their baby that they couldn't have, there was no other way to think about this other than their baby.

When their name was called out, the couple got to their feet and followed the directions down the small corridor and into the room labelled number 22, Dr Matthews. They had just gone for another scan and were now seeing the doctor to check everything was okay and that the medication had done its horrid job.

It was clear from the moment they both sat down that they weren't happy or ready for this. All (Y/n) wanted to do was sleep from both sickness and heartache and all Harry could do was stay up all day and night, strumming the strings on his guitar to keep him sane in the dead of night.

(Y/n) ran her hand through her hair before leaning her head back on Harry's shoulder when they sat down. It was hard to keep her eyes open when she felt sick and just wanted to go back home and go to sleep to try and feel better. The medication they gave her came with side effects and all it seemed to do was make her sick, lose her appetite and make her sleep but she just wanted it to stop.

"Thank you both for coming in today. I've taken a look at the scan results from today and the blood tests you're having, but I'm afraid it isn't good news."

Harry's hand tightened around (Y/n)'s as his tired eyes looked around the room but he didn't know what he was looking for. How could this not be good news? Harry knew it wasn't good in the sense that this was about losing their child but he didn't see what could be wrong. (Y/n) had had the injection, she'd had blood tests every few days since then to make sure the medication was actually working and doing its job and the scan today was only to confirm that the pregnancy was terminated. What else could be wrong?

"Why, what's wrong?"

"The methotrexate you had did end the pregnancy but I'm afraid the scan showed that your fallopian tube has already ruptured despite ending the pregnancy. We're going to have to take you for an emergency surgery to remove the ruptured tube and stop any internal haemorrhaging."

For a few moments, all (Y/n) could hear was static in her ears as she closed her eyes and buried her face into Harry's neck like she was trying to disappear. It would have been better if she'd never of been pregnant at all, all the fuss and heartache wouldn't have happened and she and Harry could have dealt with it. They could have carried on trying for a baby or put it on hold for his upcoming tour and tried later on. This shouldn't have turned out like this.

"But if you do that, w-will it make it harder to get pregnant again?" (Y/n) opened her eyes enough to look at the doctor who was staring at her in worry but she didn't care. She didn't want his worry or his pity, she didn't even want this operation if it was going to ruin or lower her chances of being able to get pregnant. Getting this baby had been hard enough and that had been for nothing, (Y/n) wanted a baby and she wasn't losing her chance.

"As far as we can tell, your other fallopian tube is healthy so you'll still be able to conceive with no problems if we remove the ruptured tube. Most women have no problems conceiving with one tube. But you've had the methotrexate so you shouldn't try for a baby for at least three or four months because that will still be in your system."

(Y/n) knew she wouldn't be able to try for a baby for a few months due to the medication and that was fine, she didn't want to try straight away to get pregnant and they couldn't really with Harry going on tour soon. But it was clearly hard for them to try and have a baby, one less tube might just make it that much harder for them to try again.

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

"Is everything okay?" Harry couldn't keep the nerves out of his voice as he held (Y/n)'s hand in both of his whilst trying not to let his rings puncture into her hand from the tight force he was holding her hand with. His eyes didn't know whether to focus on the monitor or on (Y/n)'s curved stomach to pray that their baby was okay.

They were eighteen weeks and so far each scan they'd had said everything was going smoothly but it still didn't help them from feeling worried whenever they turned up.

Finding out they were pregnant again was scary despite having a blood test done early on that proved this wasn't an ectopic pregnancy like last time two years ago. There were no anomalies this time, their baby was okay and nothing suggested something was going to go wrong but they didn't count on their luck so far. They had been trying for a few months to get pregnant and now they were, they didn't want anything to go wrong.

"Everything looks perfectly fine to me, baby is big and healthy. Would you like to know the gender?" The broad smile on the midwife's face sent spirals of relief and hope swirling through (Y/n) and she couldn't stop the smile or the tears from forming. Her head turned to look at Harry to double check that they did want to find out what they were having.

"Yes please."

"You're having a bouncing baby boy."

Harry didn't know what he was coming home to.

In all the time he had been with (Y/n), she had never once called him up when he was at the studio or doing an interview or just doing some form of work and asked him to come home. She'd never called him up in such a state like this before and he couldn't understand what was the matter or what was happening. At first he thought she was at home and there was a burglary taking place or that she'd slipped or fallen and hurt herself but all he could figure out was she was in immense pain to do with the baby and she didn't know what to do about it.

When they'd gone through the ectopic pregnancy two years ago Harry kept coming home early or staying home instead of getting prepared for the tour because he didn't want to leave (Y/n). Never once did she call him up when he was preparing or in the studio and ask him to come home, not when she'd been sick or couldn't eat or could barely get out of bed. She never said anything until he came home and that bugged him a lot.

But this one time she did call him told him it was bad because she'd never done this before.

The moment he barged through the front door, Harry was scanning around the house, looking in the living room, the back room, the dining room, the kitchen, the study downstairs to try and find (Y/n) before he gave up and ventured up the stairs to try and find his wife. He had to find her and see what was wrong.

Harry decided to head straight for the bedroom and see if she was in there but the moment he opened the door he stopped on the threshold when (Y/n)'s terrifying sob hit his ears and made him coil in on himself out of instinct. "H- he's b-breathing!" There was such an urgency to (Y/n)'s tone that made Harry lean on his back foot like he was about to run out of the room after witnessing something he shouldn't like he'd uncovered an affair. His right hand wrapped around the back of the wooden chair beside him that was making his rings cut into his skin but he couldn't feel it.

He couldn't feel anything but the screams clawing their nails at the back of his throat, desperate to be released and heard by anyone who would listen.

When his body came back under his control, Harry scuffed his toes against the carpet until he was close enough to the scene that he could collapse down on their shared bed next to (Y/n).

The word 'no' passed through Harry's lips like he was a broken record only able to sing that one word like a mantra stuck in his head. The more he said it the louder it became in his head until that word was all he could decipher and work out. His head started to shake and his vision blurred with unshed tears that were desperate to coat his features and burn into his skin like tears of acid as he tried to look at his wife through the tears.

She was kneeling up on the bed but her body was hunched over like there was a huge weight settled on her upper back that was crippling her and every inch of her was visibly shaking showing she was in a state of shock. The clawing screams at the back of his throat calmed down for a second, only to let Harry choke down a gag when the stench of blood and the copper-coloured substance was all he could now see in front of his eyes. The blood was stuck all over the bed and drenched into the sheets but that wasn't the worst thing that Harry could see.

It was his baby boy that he was staring at who was here far too early for his own good. Harry had never seen a baby look like that, he'd never witnessed or seen pictures of a baby so premature like this and he didn't like it. His boy had such a small nose it was almost invisible, his eyes didn't look right somehow, even though they were closed they looked too small and scrunched up and his body had creases and crinkles like a badly folded piece of clothing. His little arms were shaking and there was next to no muscle or tissue around his limbs that were thin and fragile like rolls of paper.

Harry had the sudden wonder that if he reached out for his boy's hand, his tiny fingers would break under any kind of touch they were so small.

He fit in the palms of (Y/n)'s hands.

He was the exact size of both (Y/n)'s hands and Harry knew if he held him he wouldn't fit in his hands. There was too much blood and murky coloured fluids covering him to make him look recognisable to Harry, he was too small to look like a baby when his head was small and squishy like a foam ball. But when the tiny baby tried to breathe all he seemed to do was splutter the fluids like his underdeveloped lungs were drowning.

"Harry..." (Y/n) knew what she was asking of Harry but at the same time, she didn't. She wanted him to do something, she wanted him to help and make this better but she didn't know how on Earth he could do that. They both knew that at this stage he had a slim chance of survival in a hospital ICU but they weren't at the hospital. They were at home with no medical equipment or professionals here to help and getting to a hospital was going to take precious time that they didn't have.

He was too early.

When (Y/n) placed him into Harry's hands she didn't know what she expected him to do or say but the sob that escaped his lips shocked her. She'd seen Harry cry out of happiness each time they found out they were expecting a baby or when she said yes to marrying him or on their wedding day. She'd seen him cry out of nervousness before shows or during moments where the cameras and constant media got too much for him. (Y/n) had witnessed him crying out of sadness when someone died or when something weighed down on him far too much.

But she'd never seen him cry out of pure heartbreak before. He'd never wailed like his heart was physically being ripped out of his chest but again, he'd never felt like there was a hand wrapped around his heart trying to tear it free from his chest.

His thumb brushed against his boy's cheek, smearing away the blood like he was trying to see the skin beneath and see what colour it was but his thumb could take up the whole expanse of their baby's cheek, he was so small.

Harry didn't know what to do.

His baby boy was here now when they had only been twenty weeks pregnant and there was nothing they could do for him because they weren't doctors. Harry didn't have anything to help his baby boy breathe or even to try and clear his airways of the fluids and blood that was bubbling past his thin lips. There was no incubator here to keep him warm and snuggle him up inside so he thought he was still in the womb and protect so he could grow.

All Harry had was the heat from his hands and the love from his heart, but that would never be enough to do anything for his baby.

Harry felt like his boy was going to slip right through his fingers like he was suddenly going to dissolve into water and fall through the gaps between his fingers and be like he never really existed at all. He was slippery and slimy like a fish out of water, desperate to hop back into the sea and carry on with its life.

But he couldn't do that. He was born now, he couldn't go back into the womb and wait for when he really should make his appearance. He had come on the stage in the wrong act and he couldn't back away or take it back now.

And then he was gone.

Harry couldn't feel his small chest convulsing and beating in time with the blood rushing from his lips anymore. His body was no longer shaking in Harry's hands, his breaths were no longer spluttering from his lips and he wasn't drowning anymore.

The brief thought of CPR came to Harry's mind but he dismissed it instantly. What would be the point in that? He was already gone, trying to bring him back could hurt his tiny heart that wouldn't be able to beat on its own or break his little bones that weren't finished growing and forming yet. Harry wouldn't break his baby boy like that just to make him suffer a few more harmful breaths to then have him slip away again. He was gone and it was better to let him have his peace than to hurt and butcher him.

(Y/n)'s scream rippled through Harry and made him shake but when he felt her head falling into his neck and her hands digging into his chest, he couldn't comfort her. Harry couldn't wrap his arms around her or cradle her to his chest like he wanted to because he couldn't put their baby down. He didn't dare set him down on the bed in case he broke like a china doll or he suddenly disappeared like he never existed at all. All Harry could do to comfort (Y/n) was to turn his head enough to press his trembling lips to the back of her head.

Their baby was gone but Harry couldn't put him down. He couldn't even look over at (Y/n) whose screams had drowned out into nothing but static in Harry's ears. He had arrived too late, (Y/n) had had him on her own in fear and pain and now he was dead.

They'd lost him.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #dad! harry styles #imagine

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karliahs · 4 years

Note

for prompts um.. aizawa learning about ofa but in like a painful way? in a 'im telling you this because i have no choice/we're gonna die anyway so what does it matter' way? maybe? i also just want... people realizing that deku had a Hard Time and because of that its hard for him to really be like. thoroughly happy. he's so passively suicidal it hurts lol!

content warning for descriptions of serious injuries

Shouta is aware of how fast things can turn bad. USJ had gone from a training exercise to a desperate struggle to preserve 20 lives in a matter of seconds.

So, he isn’t exactly surprised when he wakes from unconsciousness chained to a wall, still-blurred vision scanning the room - some kind of basement, two masked men, Midoriya chained up on the same wall. That suggests a lack of knowledge, that maybe they’d expected Shouta to be alone and grabbed the kid as a bonus, because chains aren’t exactly-

As if he’s brought it into being with the thought, power crackles along his student’s arms and the chains holding Midoriya break with an oddly-muted crack. Midoriya jumps to his feet, spinning the momentum straight into a kick that launches one of the men across the room. The other, instead of backing away from the 16-year-old explosion of power they’ve clearly vastly underestimated, steps in closer, and Shouta activates erasure with a lurch of panic in his gut.

Then, everything goes oddly still. Midoriya and the captor still on his feet just stand there, at an angle where Shouta can’t see what’s happened to make them stop. The man takes one step back, and still Midoriya just stands there, suspended, angled too far away for Shouta to be able to see his expression.

What he can see is the man in the corner starting to recover from the blow, dragging himself up - then stopping with pure panic in his eyes when he sees Midoriya. He bolts for the stairs, the other man backs up another step, and finally Shouta can see the knife embedded in his student’s abdomen.

When things go bad, it happens fast. So fast it feels like time is slipping away, like he’s moving in slow motion compared to the rest of the world. Both men are bolting now, clearly in over their heads, leaving Shouta still chained up with a kid with a stab wound.

“Leave the keys!” Shouta yells after them, venom mixing with pure panic. “Call for help!”

He activates erasure even though neither of them seem to be using quirks to escape, just trying to have any impact at all, take something away from them. If this is remorse, it’s worse than useless. Corrupt enough that cut holes in one of his kids, cowardly enough to run without letting them out first.

Midoriya turns to face him, eyes wide. “Midoriya,” Shouta says, pieces clicking into place in his mind - his primary obstacle is a set of chains, and his only asset is a student who’s just proved he can break them without an issue. If only he weren’t hurt, bleeding and confused. “It’s going to be okay. You just have to-no, don’t.” Shouta interrupts himself as he sees one of Midoriya’s hands hover in the air by the knife. “Don’t take it out. It’s slowing the bleeding.”

Midoriya obeys all too easily, face unmarred by pain - just blank shock, and a hint of helplessness that looks strange on a student who so rarely asks for help with anything.

“It’s going to be okay,” Shouta says again. “If you can break the chains, I can get you out of here and we can find help.”

“Okay,” Midoriya says, voice choked and young. He takes one step towards Shouta before collapsing, finally crying out as he goes, but thankfully the angle of his fall takes him close enough to Shouta.

“Alright,” Shouta says, trying to keep the anguish out of his voice. If time is going slowly for him, he can only imagine how it feels for Midoriya, drifting in that timeless haze of agony. He needs to be clear and calm. He wants to believe one of those terrified men called an ambulance, but he’s lived too long to have faith in that kind of mercy. Clear, calm and fast.

Shouta wraps his hands around Midoriya’s, moves them to the chains on the wall and tries to help him get a grip. “Just one push, okay?” Shouta says. “Then we’ll get out of here.”

Midoriya shuts his eyes, and for an awful moment Shouta thinks he’s losing him - then his quirk comes to life, haltingly, the bright patterns on his skin skipping and lurching as if afraid. Usually, Midoriya’s control is such that his quirk seems to become active through his whole body at once, but now the glow starts at his chest and spirals out erratically - then it reaches his abdomen and he yelps, the light blinking out, hands falling to press down around the knife.

“Alright, alright,” Shouta murmurs. There’s blood spreading through the kid’s T-shirt. He’s taking short, stuttering breaths.

“Sorry,” Midoriya mumbles.

“Stay with me, kid,” Shouta says, taking his hand again. The chains clink as he moves, and god, Shouta would give every second he has left just to break that metal. “Try again.”

Midoriya obediently, painstakingly calls on his quirk again and gives a hard shove at the place where the chains meet the wall, but that little bit of movement causes him to let out a breathless scream and fall back. Shouta has to reach out his chained arms just to keep him from collapsing all the way down onto his back. Instantly, his hands are warm and wet; there’s blood at Midoriya’s back, too.

This can’t be happening. His student can’t be about to die because of two inches of metal. This bright, wonderful person can’t be about to die in his arms.

“It- it hurts,” Midoriya murmurs, leaning on him. “I can- I can feel the knife moving.”

“I know, I know,” Shouta says. “But we need to get you help. It’s either you make it up the stairs-”

Midoriya gives a panicked groan, shaking his head frantically.

“Or you break the chains and I carry you out. You can do this. I promise you can do this.”

Midoriya nods, tears gathering in his eyes, but several panicked breaths later and he hasn’t moved.

“Take a breath,” Shouta insists, quiet but firm, “then try again. Try to concentrate your quirk just where you need it.”

“It’s…it’s called One For All,” Midoriya says, tipping back a little in Shouta’s clumsy hold. “All Might gave it to me.”

Time slips away again, or something like it. There’s blood on the shackles on Shouta’s wrists. They look at each other, and even through the pain Midoriya seems to be searching his face for something.

“I wanted to tell you,” he adds, then slips back a little further and yelps in pain. Shouta is holding him up as best he can, but it still takes abdominal muscles to hold yourself in that kind of position - and every contraction of those muscles risks jostling the blade. He can’t die like this. He just can’t.

“Midoriya, please,” Shouta says. He doesn’t think his voice holds steady. Shouta has seen victims of stab wounds before, has been the victim of stab wounds before, and so he can’t avoid the knowledge that these minutes of coherency are numbered. As sure as up is up and down is down, soon enough shock and blood loss will render Midoriya unable to listen to what he’s saying, let alone use his quirk. If he hasn’t broken the chains by then - and if neither of those monsters called for an ambulance… “Please, kid. There isn’t anything else I can do. It has to be you, and it has to be now.”

“S-sorry,” Midoriya says, shutting his eyes for another heartstopping moment. He opens them and there’s a shred of his old determination shining there. “Sorry I caused you so much trouble.”

He moves his hands and before Shouta can register what he’s going to do, he’s clutching the hilt of the knife and pulling it out, activating his quirk in the next second and shoving forward to punch at the root of the chains. Finally, finally, they break, and Shouta is gathering Midoriya up in his arms and trying to put pressure on the wound at the same time, sprinting for the stairs.

“You did it, you did it, I’ve got you,” Shouta mutters, barely taking in his own words, and as he reaches the top of the stairs he hears the distant sound of sirens.

...

Hours later, in the grey light and never-quite-quiet of the hospital Shouta has refused to leave, he sits side by side with a silent Yagi, letting Inko Midoriya have some privacy with her son even if the doctors don’t think he’ll be waking up any time soon.

Shouta has had a lot of time to think, and mostly hasn’t done so. He won’t really be able to think until he sees his student alive, moving, talking again.

What few thoughts he has managed are shards of memory. A student who works harder than anyone, but came into high school with hardly any control over his quirk, the foundation most aspiring heroes start from. And Yagi, hiding off to the side, watching over his class’s first training session. Like he had a personal stake.

Shouta doesn’t pry into students’ lives for the sake of it. He and Nedzu have disagreed a couple of times over the level of surveillance UA should aim for when it comes to students, especially now that the dorm system had been implemented. But he can’t help a kid he doesn’t understand. He can’t help Midoriya recover from anaesthesia any faster, but he can try and understand the missing piece connecting Midoriya to Yagi.

“So,” Shouta says, voice flat. “One For All.”

Yagi sits up straighter. “He told you?”

“He was scared,” Shouta says. He was dying, he doesn’t say, because he isn’t, he didn’t.

“It’s…his story to tell, now,” Yagi says, and there’s a discomfort there that almost makes Shouta smile.

“Sure,” he says. “Delay the inevitable.” Shouta shakes his head. “That kid’s braver than you.”

“I know,” Yagi says simply, and a quick scan of his expression shows Shouta that he isn’t joking.

Shouta thinks they’re done, but Yagi turns to face him, solemn and sincere. “Thank you,” he says. “Thank you for getting him out of there alive.”

Shouta gives a short nod. “He did it himself.”

Yagi smiles. “You should get used to being thanked. I’m sure young Midoriya will be very grateful when he wakes.”

“Delaying the inevitable,” Shouta murmurs, slumping back in his chair, letting his eyes fall shut trying not to see echoes of the night’s horrors reflected in the dark.

#bnha fic #dadzawa #aizawa #midoriya #feel like my ~brand~ makes this kinda obvious but there's no major character death here!!#just big angst #thank you for the prompt!!!#gonna keep the second part of your ask in mind too bc that's exactly my kind of shit

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angstymdzsthoughts · 4 years

Text

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

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okay-j-hannah · 5 years

Text

Broken to Whole

Supernatural : Prompt

Sibling!Winchester

Setting: During mid to end Season 3 (Dean has his contract set for Hell)

Word Count: 2263

Warnings: There’s quite a bit of blood and some moments of terror, but it turns to funny and fluffy bits with the Winchesters right quick

Request: “1 with sibling!winchester reader? ok so what im thinking (which you can totally say no to) is that the reader and her brothers (sam and dean) are in a new town fighting a new threat and this threat gets to the reader which lands her in the hospital. her brothers are going insane waiting in the hospital or like a week until one day they’re watching over her and she wakes up?” - @aliciasayshi

Prompt:

“How long have you guys been standing around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

A/N: After receiving an almost fatal blow, the Winchesters race you to the hospital where they fight with you and your immense fear of anything medical

Part Two: Take a Break

(Y/N) was panting ridiculously through gritted teeth, attempting to conceal her cries of agony as blood continued to slip from her cut onto the table she laid on.

“(Y/N)? Oh my God, stay right there!” Dean said, running to her. He grabbed the nearest supply of towels and cloths and started piling them on her stomach and she yelled out, “Sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. Hang on."

Dean undid her restraints and instructed her to hold the towels in place while he helped Sam, who was on a table beside her in his own straps. (Y/N) applied pressure regardless of the shockwaves it was sending throughout her body.

Sam went to tie the now unconscious monster down as Dean went back to (Y/N) and slowly removed the cloth to get a look at the damage, "Son of a bitch. That’s deep, (Y/N/N). We’ll have to go to the hospital."

She grimaced, and tears started to pour down her face, "I really don’t like the hospital, Dean."

He winced along with her, sympathy pain flowing his features, "You’re going to need stitches. And I bet nothing is sterile in here, you could get an infection or some other crap."

(Y/N) continued to cry as Dean pushed against her cut, "Dean, I really, really don’t like the hospital. Please! Just stitch it yourself.”

He shook his head and looked towards his brother, who came over with the same pained expression on his face.

”(Y/N), we need to get you help, now. You’re bleeding out everywhere. We don’t have the proper equipment and besides - that cut is deeper than any regular stitches can fix,“ Sam stated.

And as the painful exhaustion started to blur the edges of her vision, Dean scooped her up, regardless of the blood getting onto him, and they quickly got out of the house and into the car.

Despite her protests, she was put in the impala, crying and squealing with the pain. She tried her best to handle it with grace, but by the time Sam started driving, the bumps of the road enraged her wound.

She clutched at Dean’s hand as he held her close, hushing her along the way. And all she could remember was physically praying that she’d pass out.

And thankfully she did.

~~~

When she finally came to she was in a light blue hospital gown, laying in a white hospital bed, covered in clear hospital tubes, and smelling like a bleached, disinfected hospital patient.

And she was not happy about it at all; her heart monitor starting to raise as her blood pumped faster.

Next to her, sitting in a chair, was Sam. His head was on the edge of the bed and his hand was inches from hers. Dean was up and pacing the room, back and forth, right in front of her bed.

"Now that I’ve received medical attention, can I please leave this hell hole?"

Sam jumped up and scooted his chair in closer and Dean fumbled in his mid-turn and somehow managed to make it to the bed without falling.

"How do you feel?” Sam questioned.

“Are you in pain at all?” Dean added.

“How long have you guys been standing around my bed like a bunch of creepers?” (Y/N) tried to sit up more, but failed miserably, wincing, “I’m fine. Can we leave, please?”

The brothers looked at each other and then back at her with contorted eyebrows and serious expressions.

“You were hurt bad, (Y/N/N),” Sam muttered. “They had to take you to the surgical room to stitch you up."

Dean made his way to her other side and rested a hand on the elevated part of her bed, "You probably would have bled to death if we hadn’t gotten you here."

"And I’m thankful for all the modern medicine and blah, blah, blah. Seriously though, when can I leave?”

“It’s just a hospital, (Y/N/N). Why do you hate it so much? You seem fine whenever we do cases,” Sam asked.

She took a deep breath, “Bad memories, alright? I don’t like being the patient in this situation. Visiting a hospital is fine. Staying in one? Count me out.” She attempted to swing her legs out of the bed and Dean held her down by the shoulders.

“Not today, sweetheart. You need to heal. You’re not going anywhere."

She gave each of them a moment of weakness gaze, her eyes filled with fear and pleading. Her heart rate was still raised, and her blood pressure and breathing had elevated.

"I’m sorry, (Y/N). But this is your best option,” Sam muttered.

She begrudgingly moved her gaze to her toes sticking up from the blanket and her eyes began to sting. She twiddled with her fingers again and bit the inside of her cheek. Finally, one of the monitors began to beep as an alarm and a nurse came running in.

“I’m sorry, boys, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re causing her distress."

At that thought (Y/N)’s vitals seemed to skyrocket even higher if that was possible. She moved her tear-filled eyes to the nurse and pleaded.

"No, no, please don’t take them away from me.”

Sam got up from his seat and went over to whisper to the nurse, “She’s just a little afraid of hospitals. Us being here is what’s actually keeping her somewhat grounded."

The nurse gave (Y/N) an up and down look and then back at Sam, "I see. Well, if those numbers keep rising then I’m going to have to sedate her. She needs to be relaxed for her to properly heal…"

"We understand. If we could stay here it would really help her, honest."

Dean went down and clasped one of (Y/N)’s shaking hands, trying to steady it. He eventually had to put both his hands around her one and she felt comfort in the pressure. She squeezed back and stared at the ceiling as her pulse started to lower.

The nurse gave a slow nod and threw her hands in the air, "Whatever works for you. I’ve got cases that I need to file, if you would excuse me."

Once they were alone again Sam came to (Y/N)’s other side and took her right hand in his, "Don’t worry, (Y/N/N). We’re not going anywhere. We’ve got time.” He looked at Dean when he said that, but (Y/N) didn’t notice.

It took her almost the entire day to get her heart rate to a normal range, all the while holding onto Sam and Dean. They took turns watching over her as the other went to get food or take a small break. She complied to all that the doctors required her to do: shots, medicines, check-ups. As long as one of the brothers were there to hold her hand.

It wasn’t until the last part of the second day that she was actually able to have a normal conversation with the two of them.

“You know, for a hunter, you’re a bit of a softy,” Dean mumbled, his faced smashed into the bed as he sat there waiting for something to do.

She actually responded this time, “Don’t give me that crap. Everyone’s scared of something."

"Dean’s scared of planes,” Sam interjected from his laptop.

Dean raised his head and glared at him, almost with a smolder on his tired features, “Yeah, well, Sammy’s afraid of clowns."

"Really?” (Y/N) said. “Planes and clowns and you think you’re some big tough hunters?"

Sam lifted his eyes from his work, "You’re scared of hospitals and we’re in and out of them weekly."

There was a silence for a while as (Y/N) closed her eyes and Dean stared at Sam, flitting his head towards the resting girl. Sam got the message to egg her on.

"Is there anything else you’re scared of?"

"Like I said, everyone is scared of something."

Dean gave a puzzled look, "So it’s only hospitals?"

"And things associated with them. Needles, surgical equipment, hand sanitizer, rubbing alcohol, stethoscopes… you name it."

Sam laughed, "That’s a lot, (Y/N/N)."

"Oh, and haunted houses,” she was on a roll now, her eyes still closed. “Can’t stand them. You know when I was fifteen I tried to go into one and I freaked and blacked out in the line."

"In the line?” Dean asked, finally starting to sit up.

“Yep. And I screamed and cried the entire time. The only reason I was able to move through it was because my friends dragged me."

Not wanting to spoil the nice time they were suddenly having, the brothers pressed on with the topic.

"What is it about haunted houses that you don’t like?” Sam asked, shutting his laptop. “They’re supposed to be fun.”

“Fun? Don’t be ridiculous. What is so great about those freak filled horror fests? I just don’t like being scared, that’s all."

Sam chuckled and scooted his chair closer to her bed, "But a haunted house is basically like all the places we go for hunts. Why do you enjoy one but despise the other?”

“Yeah, these real-life monsters come at you all the time and you never look scared when that’s happening,” Dean mentioned.

She finally opened her eyes and found them both gazing at her fondly. This was new, full and undivided attention.

“Why do you guys want to know?”

“Curiosity,” Dean said. “Just wanting to get to know you more."

“We haven’t seen you in years, (Y/N),” Sam shared a look towards his brother, “We just want to be close again.”

She thought about it for a minute. They wanted to get to know her.

"I don’t like the dark either.”

“Yeah, Bobby was saying something about that to us earlier,” Sam said, remembering when they had called him to update about (Y/N)’s condition. “You don’t like to sleep. Is the dark part of that?”

(Y/N) moved her eyes to her sterile blanket, “Partly, I guess. I don’t like the dreams that I have."

Both the boys leaned in, their silence begging for more. And she sensed that.

"Nightmares, more like. Just a reminder of when I was younger."

Sam caught a glance with his brother before cautiously moving forward, “Can we ask what your nightmares are about?”

(Y/N) pulled out her hands from under the blanket and played with her fingertips. She ignored the question for a long time before Sam took one of her twitching hands into his and said, "You know you can trust us, (Y/N/N). What is it going to take for you to believe us?”

She thought about her angels, her demons, her nightmares, her childhood. It was all so much information that she had kept to herself for so long.

Running off to live with Bobby was the best decision she’d ever made, even if it took her from her brothers for over fifteen years. She wasn’t sure the boys were ready to hear all of that. Or if she was ready to tell it all.

With a deep breath she pulled away her hand from Sam’s grasp and stretched, “I’m starved. Anyone up for burgers?"

Sam sat back and gave an exasperated sigh, showing the defeat across his face. They had gotten so close, and (Y/N) knew it. She was letting them in too far.

"Not so fast, kid. You’re not getting away that easily,” Dean said as he leaned back on two of the chairs legs. “You’ve been wiggling your way out of every question we ask. Now we don’t want to drill you or demand answers, but don’t you think we deserve to know something?” He let his chair fall onto all fours, “We’ve been waiting here."

He was right. They’d been patient with her. She was the one being stubborn and afraid.

"I just don’t want to push you away,” she whispered. “What if you don’t like the truth?”

Sam held a short smile, “(Y/N), we aren’t just going to up and leave. I don’t know what crazy thing happened to you, but the inevitable in this situation does not involve Dean and I leaving you. We’re here to stay."

Dean nodded in agreement, "We’ve all got demons, (Y/N).”

“Who’s Lilith?”

Both the brothers were taken aback.

“How do you know about Lilith?” Sam asked.

She had to think quick, “Uh… Bobby mentioned her. I know she’s some kind of demon."

Dean smirked, "She’s the bitch that’s holding my contract. And the one who’s after Sam."

(Y/N) frowned slightly, "I guess I don’t know as much about you two as I thought."

"She’s one of the original demons directly from Lucifer,” Sam explained. “She sees me as a threat because I… uh - well, I used to have psychic powers."

That gave her something to be startled about, "Psychic powers? Wait… what?”

Dean laughed, “Yellow eyes. He’s a demon that had a plan that involved burning people alive and bleeding demon blood into the mouths of babies. It gave them… powers."

"Yellow eyes? You mean Azazel? Bobby talked about him too… he’s the demon that you two were tracking for the past few years. The one that killed..."

The brothers nodded, and Sam muttered, "Until Dean killed him. And my powers stopped."

She twiddled her fingers, "He’s the one that killed mom." There was a silence that confirmed that for her, "But if your powers are gone why is Lilith so threatened by you?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Something about how I was chosen by Azazel to be his successor. I was the only one left standing out of the psychic children. But yellow eyes was stopped before he could get me to do anything else."

(Y/N) smiled, "Sounds like you guys have been through a lot."

Dean rubbed his hands together and laughed, "You got that right."

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000

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the-desolated-quill · 5 years

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Quill’s Swill - The Worst Of 2018

Congratulations dear reader. You survived 2018. And you know what that means. It’s time for another best of/worst of list. Welcome to Quill’s Swill 2018. A giant septic tank for the various shit the entertainment industry produced over the course of the year. The films, games, TV shows and various other media that got on my bad side. As always please bear in mind that this is only my subjective opinion (if you happen to like any of the things on this list, good for you. I’m glad someone did) and that obviously I haven’t seen everything 2018 has to offer for one reason or another. In other words, sorry that Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes Of Grindelwald isn’t on here. I’m sure it is as terrible as some have been suggesting. I just never got around to watching it.

Okay everyone. Grab your breathing masks and put on your rubber gloves. Let’s dive into this shit pile.

Hold The Sunset

The news that John Cleese would be returning to the world of BBC sitcoms was incredibly exciting, being a massive Fawlty Towers fan and all. Unfortunately Hold The Sunset was not quite what I had in mind. It’s one of those rare breed of situation comedies that chooses to offer no actual comedy. It’s not a sitcom. It’s a sit. Like Scrubs or The Big Bang Theory.

An elderly couple plan to elope abroad only for Alison Steadman’s son to barge in, having left his wife, and forcing them to put their plans on hold. Hence the title ‘Hold The Sunset.’ It’s like a cross between As Time Goes By and Sorry, but if all the humour and relatability were surgically removed by a deadpan mortician. The characters are weak, the plots are thin on the ground and the humour (hat little of it there is) feel incredibly dated. The middle aged mummy’s boy is something that hasn’t been funny since the 90s. It’s an utter waste of great talent and what hurts even more is that this tripe is actually getting a second series. I can only assume the people watching this are comatose. Either that or there’s an epidemic of people in Britain who have lost the remote.

Avengers: Infinity War

Yes this is one of the worst movies of 2018 and no I don’t regret saying that one little bit. Avengers: Infinity War was fucking terrible. Period. There were too many plots and characters going on, which made the film hard to follow (and what staggers me is that the so called ‘professional’ critics have condemned movies for having too many characters and plots before. Spider-Man 3, The Amazing Spider-Man 2, Batman vs Superman: Dawn Of Justice and even Deadpool 2. But because this is an MCU movie, it gets a free pass. Fuck off). The characterisation was weak due to sheer number of characters they try to juggle, resulting in characters coming off as one dimensional caricatures of themselves and scenes where characters such as Iron Man, Doctor Strange and Star-Lord sound completely interchangeable. The villain, Thanos, is a stupidly and poorly written villain, but that’s hardly surprising considering what a shit job Marvel have done building him up over the course of these 20+ movies. And let’s not forget that pisstake ending. A bunch of prominent Marvel characters die and it’s all very, very sad... except all these characters just so happen to have sequels planned, which makes this ending fucking pointless and have less impact than a feather on a bouncy castle.

I don’t know which is more shocking. That Marvel and Disney think their audience are that stupid and gullible, or that their audience are actually validating their view. Fuck you Disney.

Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery

I’ve always wanted a Harry Potter RPG, where you could customise your character, choose your house and actually live a full school life at Hogwarts. This year, Warner Bros and Jam City gave us just that.

That was a mistake.

Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery is the epitome of everything that’s wrong with the mobile gaming market right now. The gameplay is boring and involving where you just tap images on a screen until a progress bar fills up. Wizard duels are little more than rock-paper-scissors challenges that require no kind of skill. Bonding with friends and caring for magical creatures just consist of pathetically simple pop quizzes and yet more boring tapping. Oh and of course you only get a certain amount of energy to complete these tedious tasks. If you run out of energy, you wait for it to fill up... or pay up for the privilege. So determined are they to extract your hard earned cash from your wallet, there’s actually a bit where Devil’s Snare strangles your eleven year old avatar and the game effectively tries to guilt trip you into paying micro-transactions to save them. It’s sleazy, gross and manipulative. Honestly, you’re better off just playing Candy Crush.

Agony

When the developers of this game said they wanted to give the player a trip through Hell, they had no idea how true that statement really was. Agony is dreadful on a number of levels. The design for Hell itself, while visually interesting at times, is often not very practical and gets quite dull and repetitive after a while. The stealth mechanics are a joke and the AI of your demonic enemies are pitiful. All of this alone would have been enough to put this game on the list, but then we also have the casual misogyny. Agony is a gorefest trying desperately to shock the player. We see men and woman get tortured, but it’s the women that often get the extreme end. The violence inflicted on them is often sexual in nature and the game seems to go out of its way to degrade and dehumanise women at every turn. The orgasmic cries of ‘pull it out’ quickly become a staple of the game’s experience as we see naked women raped, tortured and murdered, all for the purposes of ‘entertainment.’

I would call Agony sexist, but honestly that would be giving it too much credit. Agony is like a little child trying desperately to be all dark and edgy in a pathetic attempt to impress everyone around him, and we should treat it as such. Go to your room Agony. No ice cream for you.

Peter Rabbit

If you listen closely, you can hear the sound of Beatrix Potter rotating in her grave.

Yes we have yet another live action/CGI hybrid, but instead of something innocuous like the Smurfs or Alvin and the Chipmunks, Sony instead decides to adapt Peter Rabbit, with James Corden in the title role.

It’s about as bad as you’d expect.

Their attempts to modernise the story are painful to say the least with pop culture references, inappropriate adult humour and twerking rabbits. Plus rather than the gentle, but slightly mischievous character we got in the source material, here Peter is a sociopathic delinquent who seems to revel in making the farmer’s life a living hell. He’s unlikable and unwatchable as far as I’m concerned and the film doesn’t in anyway earn the emotional moments it tries so desperately to sell to the audience. And the worst part is it’s getting a sequel.

Wait. Do you hear that sound? That’s the sound of Beatrix Potter tearing out of the ground, ready to kill whatever idiot came up with this shit.

Fallout 76

I was excited for Fallout 76. A MMORPG where players band together to rebuild society after a nuclear apocalypse. Could have been great. Pity it wasn’t.

Fallout 76 is a dreadful game. Not only is it a buggy, glitchy mess that requires a constant online connection to play, which could result in you losing hours of progress if your WiFi went down, it’s also unbelievably tedious, and that’s because there’s nothing to do in the game. There’s no other characters to interact with, the various robots and computers you come across are really little more than quest givers, there’s no actual plot so to speak, and because of the sheer size of the world and the number of players allowed on a server, the chances of you actually meeting any actual players is remote. And let’s not forget all the behind the scenes drama. Bethesda falsely advertising Fallout themed canvas bags and players getting shitty nylon ones. Bethesda accidentally releasing the account information of various players trying to get a refund for said bag. Bethesda failing to program the year 2019 into the game code, meaning that the game’s nukes don’t work.

Maybe there’s a chance that Bethesda could pull a No Man’s Sky and fix everything over the coming years with various patches and DLCs, but the damage has already been done. It’s incredibly disappointing. The Elder Scrolls 6 is going to have be fucking incredible to win everyone back.

Mama Mia!: Here We Go Again

I can’t stand jukebox musicals anyway, but Mamma Mia was always one of the worst. Its boring, meandering story with its one note, obnoxious cast of characters screeching out ABBA songs like they’re at some drunken karaoke session at some poor sod’s hen party has always grated on my nerves. So imagine my delight when they announced we were getting a sequel. Ever wondered how Meryl Streep met her three lovers and founded her hotel? No? Well tough shit, we’re going to tell you anyway.

Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again is basically just Mamma Mia again. The actors still can’t sing, the characters are still annoying and story is still boring and meandering, completely at the mercy of the chosen songs rather than the filmmakers using the songs to compliment the story (you know? Like proper musicals do?).

How can I resist you? Very easily as it turns out. Gimme, gimme, gimme a fucking gun so I can end my misery.

The Cloverfield Paradox

A lot of people were unhappy about the direction Cloverfield was going. They wanted a continuation of the found footage, kaiju movie from 2008, not an anthology series. I was personally all in favour. Partially because I thought the first Cloverfield was a tad overrated, but mostly because I thought it would be a great opportunity for more experimental film projects and could be a great launchpad for new writers and filmmakers. 10 Cloverfield Lane was a great start. Then The Cloverfield Paradox happened.

The Cloverfield Paradox is basically JJ Abrams trying to have his cake and eat it too. Maintaining the anthology format whilst connecting everything together in a ‘shared universe’ (yes, yet another shared universe). The result was a cliched, poorly edited and idiotic mess of a film that actually took away from the previous two films rather than added to them. Everyone hated it and, as a result, 2018′s Overlord, which was totes going to be part of the Cloververse, was made its own standalone film and Abrams double pinky promised to make a true sequel to the original Cloverfield. A complete and total disaster. No wonder it was a straight-to-Netflix film.

The Handmaid’s Tale - Season 2

This is probably going to be the most controversial entry on the list, but please hear me out because I’m not the only one who has a problem with this season.

I was reluctant to watch The Handmaid’s Tale simply because of how gruesome the original book was, but I forced myself to watch the first season and I thought it was pretty good. It remained faithful to the source material for the most part and included some nice additions that helped to expand the story and mythos. If it was just a one off mini-series, everything would have been fine. But then they made the same mistake as The Man In The High Castle and Under The Dome did where they commissioned another season and attempted to tell a story that goes beyond the book.

There’s a reason why the original story ended where it did. The Handmaid’s Tale isn’t meant to be an empowering story about women sticking it to the patriarchy. It’s a cautionary tale about how fragile our civil rights truly are and how easily they can be taken away from us. It’s designed to shock, not to satisfy. So seeing a handmaid blow herself up in a suicide bombing feels very incongruous and just a little bit silly. It would be like doing a TV adaptation of George Orwell’s 1984 where the first season followed the source material and then the second season turned Winston Smith into this heroic freedom fighter trying to overthrow Big Brother. It would represent a fundamental misunderstanding of what the book was about in the first place.

And then of course there’s the increased level of violence in Season 2, which many have complained about. In Season 1 and the original source material, the violence was justified. In Season 2, the motivation behind the violence has gone from ‘how can we effectively demonstrate how easily a fascist patriarchy can happen in the West?’ to ‘what brutal act can we inflict upon Ofglen to shock the audience this week?’ It’s purely for shock and nothing more. And with the showrunner (who I feel I should mention is a man) announcing that he has planned ten seasons of this, it seems that The Handmaid’s Tale is going to go even further with this depravity until it effectively becomes the equivalent of a Saw film.

The Handmaid’s Tale exists as a way of shining light on and critiquing misogyny in its most extreme form. Season 2 however demonstrates that there is a serious risk of it becoming the very thing it’s criticising in the first place.

The Predator

I love the Predator franchise, but The Predator is the worst.

People thought that this would be good because director Shane Black had actually starred in the first Predator movie back in 1987. Instead we got this bloated, confusing, obnoxious and insulting mess of a film that seems to go out of its way to ruin everything that makes Predator so good. There’s no tension. No suspense. No intrigue. Just a bunch of gore, explosions and shitty one liners from annoying and lifeless characters. They essentially took this big alien game hunter from outer space and turned him into a generic monster from a bad summer blockbuster. It no longer hunts for sport. It wants to take over the world and splice our DNA with theirs. But don’t worry, a rogue Predator doesn’t want to kill humans (even though he himself kills a bunch of humans), so he gives us a Predator Iron Man suit to set up a sequel that will probably never happen because this movie was a box office bomb and it fucking SUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKEEEEEDDDD!!!

This film also has a very nasty streak towards those with disabilities. There’s a lot of jokes at the expense of a character with Tourette’s and it has an extremely ignorant and patronising view of autism, portraying the main character’s kid as being a super genius who can decipher the Predator language and even going so far as to say that he represents ‘the next stage of human evolution.’ Presumably the Predators want social communication difficulties because apparently it helps them hunt somehow.

What with Disney acquiring 20th Century Fox, the future of both the Alien and Predator franchises were very much in question. This film needed to be a success in order to make a case for Disney to keep making more of them. It wasn’t. Congratulations Shane Black. You might have just killed off this franchise for good. Thanks arsehole! :D

So those were my least favourite stories from 2018. Join me on Wednesday where we shall discuss something more positive. Yes, it’s awards season. Who shall win the coveted Quill Seal Of Approval? Watch this space...

Or don’t. It’s up to you. I don’t want to force you or anything. It’s a free country.

#quill's swill #quill's swill 2018 #worst of the year #review #opinion

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alexangery · 6 years

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hi! just out of curiosity, what other things bugged you about that post list? i'm a trans guy (haven't started t) and that post rubbed me wrong, too, but i can't really place it. it also made me want to never start t, so i would like to know what else you think is wrong to ease my mind a little :( thank you!

oh jeez yeah that list has been a pretty big deterrent for a lot of people. ive seen it every so often but never actually went into why it pissed me off. here’s some more things about it that are wrong

-Right around 3-6 months on T, you’re going to be in itchy, unbearable agony as your new hair grows in. I scratched so badly that I had welts and blisters that scarred.this right here is pretty fucked up. i grew a lot of body and facial hair and never once experienced this kind of itching. it’s also pretty hard to scratch yourself so badly that you blister and then scar.

- Binding causes scars under your arms and on your shoulders. It also causes acne. Cystic acne.if your binder is causing scarring, it’s too tight. ive been binding for six years and i don’t have scars because i wear the right size binder and wear it responsibly. also, cystic acne isn’t as common as people seem to think it is, and if you wind up with it, it can absolutely be treated by your doctor.

- Your genitals will hurt.rubbing will probably happen to some extent but it doesn’t happen to everyone. this reads like a promise rather than a possibility. trust me, even if rubbing happens, you get used to it. you don’t need to “cry like a little baby” over it because it isn’t usually that bad.

-Everything causes acne. Even your acne meds.your acne meds will not cause acne. i shouldn’t have to say that but here we are.

-Some lucky transmen experience temporary uterine insanity. That is, your uterus goes insane and starts cramping randomly. Some endocrinologists theorize that it’s due to the muscles increasing in size from the testosterone so rapidly that they cut off their own blood supply. The pain level from this ranges from “a bear on PCP ate my toe off” and “I just took a shotgun shell full of lemon and rock salt to my external genitalia.”ableist language aside, this is garbage nonsense. yes, you may get cramping. no, it will not be that bad. if it gets unendurable then you need to see a doctor immediately. any cramping you might have will be comparable to normal menstrual cramping. we all know that menstrual cramping can be agonizing, but it’s not going to feel as bad as having a digit amputated, what the serious fuck. this is just fearmongering. for the record, i did experience some low level cramping after several years on t, but that was my ovaries being weird and i wound up having hysto anyway, so problem solved i guess

- Drinking before a blood test will mess up your results and may lead your endocrinologist to change your T dose when it’s not necessary.this is just common sense. please do not get a blood test while you have any kind of substances in your system

-You will mess up your injections frequently. Golf-ball sized swellings, redness and heat can be common even without infections.okay i know i addressed this but im gonna say it again. i’ve messed up my injections a lot and i have literally never had any significant swelling. a little swelling? yes. but if it’s bigger than, say, a grape, you need to talk to your doctor. especially if the swelling sticks around. your injections should not be agonizing. your injections should not be painful to the point of making you cry. your injections should not cause so much distress that it interferes with your ability to live your daily life.

- Ibuprofen helps with the pain better than tylenol and is less likely to make your liver turn black.i’m starting to think that this person has never had actual experience with a doctor. tylenol will not make your liver go black???? just don’t take too much of it. again, common sense.

-If you’re under 21, it’s possible that you might get taller. Remember the growing pains you used to get as a child? Now imagine those but 500% worse. That’s what it will feel like. You will also have to relearn your spatial relationships with the surrounding world. You will be awkward and clumsy. You will knock things over and be in a constant state of bruised.you may get taller, but don’t bank on it. chances are you’ll need to relearn your body anyway. i got super clumsy when i started t, but then it passed.

so much of that post is hyperbole and just unnecessarily frightening. i promise you that taking t is not nearly as scary as that post makes it seem.

i hope this helps you a little!

#Anonymous

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xthoughtsandthornsx · 6 years

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to my dear bunny, beet beet:

today was your last day on earth. as i have wished, i was with you when you took your last breath.

i am so sorry. i am sorry i have to make this very painful decision to let you go. seeing you breath your last was probably the most painful thing i’ve ever been through.

holding you in my arms was the best damn thing ever. you gave me warmth and comfort whenever im feeling low. when im lonely, you were my best companion. when i need to rant, you were my best listening ears. these two years was not the easiest years of my life. but with you around, everything seems so much better.

there are so many things i love about you beet. i love the way you lick my fingers to show affection. recently, you even lick my face. i love the way you respond to your treats. i love the way you force your tiny little face under the hands to request for sayangs. i love the way you lie down all the way flat like a pancake. i love the way you eat berries and papaya. i love the way you drink from a cup. i love the way you throw tantrum whenever i annoy you. i love the way you bite the hay and spit it out whenever i try to feed you some. i love the way you stare at me. i love the way your ears goes up and down to listen to any noise. i love it when you lie beside me for hours.

baby im sorry i did not get you treated immediately i noticed the lump. baby im sorry i should have brought you into the vet earlier to do your yearly check-ups. baby im sorry i should have taken better care of you, spent more time with you and loving you more.

i hope you are still in the house, running around, hiding under the dining table, under the sofa and visiting me occasionally.

i still remember the day i brought you home. i was throwing a tantrum on the sofa of our house, i kept pestering my mum to get me a bunny. when i went to the pet store, i knew immediately it was you i want to bring home. you were still a baby, palm size one-month old bunny. without hesitation, i carried you in your new cage and walked a good 30 minutes home. it was tiring as f. but i was so overwhelmed with happiness and was so excited about spending the rest of your years with you that i quickly got over the tiredness.

for the first few days, i woke up earlier than usual, without an alarm, to play with you. you were so cute. i still remember.. your first few toys were some toy balls with bells on it. i still remember how you swing it left and right and up and down while standing on your twos.

fast forward a few years later.. my relationship with ma worsen. ma moved you out of the house, into the corridor every night because of the fur you were dropping and causing a mess in the house. i was so heartbroken and angry at ma. i brought you home every night.

after a few weeks, i stopped doing it.. and baby that was the thing i regretted the most. im sorry baby for not letting you be a free roam bunny earlier.. though you chew on our slippers, chairs, tables, cables and sometimes digesting it and i see them coming out of your poo, you were a very very good boy.

last two weeks of your life, i see you suffer more than anytime. you refuse to eat or drink and is less active than before. you prefer to sleep than do anything though you still respond to the sound of your treats. oh boy it hurts me so much to see you suffer. and every time i see you suffer, trains of memories with you just flew past my mind.

two weeks ago, on the 4th of july, i dreamt that you were struggling and you somehow signalled to me that the surrounding was too noisy for you to handle. you were so stressed out and constantly coming to me as if asking me for help. true to the dream, on the 5th of july, your first episode happened. you were grinding your teeth in pain, looking so restless and constantly having mushy poo. you were in so much pain back then so i took you to the vet in the middle of the night at 1am and the vet gave you a pain relief jab. you stabilised and then worsened..... two days ago, i dreamt of death, under the dining table and you were just lying beside urns. it was a nightmare. i woke up in horror, heart still beating fast. other than these bad dreams, i had a flash image of you smiling at me, hopping around and seemingly asking me to not worry about you too much and that you are happy. somehow, i had a feeling that you are holding on so much because of me....

the last night of your life, i got an instinct that you were going to go.. you weren’t looking that good and i prayed to god and you to stay with me till the morning. i brought you onto my bed, and on the last night of your life, i finally got to spend a night with you. i couldn’t care less if you pee or poo on my bed. i didn’t want to regret. and i am proud to say im glad i did it. i barely slept. i wanted to be with you when you breathe your last. so i kept jerking up from my sleep at the thought of you leaving me. morning came and your condition seem to have worsen. i knew it from the start that when i bring you out of the house now, i will not be able to bring you home again. in the taxi, i was constantly telling you to stay with me till we reach the vet.

when we reach the vet, i couldn’t control myself when the recep asked what had happened to you. i burst out crying when i said ‘i think he is dying’. and thats when i knew.. im a selfish bitch who doesn’t want you to go. i wanted you for the rest of my life. the huge amount of care and concern i got from the vet’s staff was overwhelming. they were all going out of their way to calm my broken heart.

after the talk with your vet, i was left alone to make a decision. to let you go.... or to try to treat you. treating you will be a long torturous process and it took me a looooooooooooong time and buckets of tears to finally decide to let you go. when i walked out of the vet to get some fresh air, i couldn’t control myself again, i burst out crying in agony, in pain.. i was so so so heartbroken. i couldn’t bear to part from you. i don’t want to say goodbye to you. i want to bring you home.

baby boy please don’t blame mama for making this difficult decision. i really really hope that you are at peace now and free from all the sufferings and pain.

today i cried so much in front of my dad because of you beet. dad has never seen me cry so much in my life before..probably not even ma. i cry when i think you of. i cry when i think of the last moments before you die, when you was in my arms. i cry when i think of the scene when the doctor injected the anaesthesia into your blood stream. i cry when im at home, looking for you at your favourite spots but you were nowhere to be found.

but im going to give myself one more week to mourn your death. one week later, i hope i will cry lesser...

baby beetbeet boy, you will always always be in my heart and nobody can replace that spot. never ever. i love you always, forever and ever. i hope and believe that we will meet again. and in our next lives, if you are still a bunny, i would want you to be my lovely companion again. and if you are, i promise i will take better care of you, 1000000 times better.

xoxo. with loving memories from the 11 years of companionship.

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’

The QPR defender talks powerfully about his strives with mental illness, his addictions to gamble and drinking and why “he il be” thankful still to be alive

Steven Caulker has a fable to tell and, as hard as it is to hear, it is best plainly to listen. His stream of consciousness veers from scoring on his England debut less than five years ago and the excite at potential being realised to the frightening mental health issues a matter that have almost terminated it all in the period since. A actor who, from the outside, emerged consecrated with endowment and opportunity speaks of frantic nervousnes and self-loathing.

He entertained killing himself in his darkest instants with his path one of self-destruction. Endeavors at escapism rate him hundreds of thousands of pounds, compensations frittered away in casinoes. Then came the drinking is targeted at numbing the sting. The 25 -year-old notes himself recalling the times spent in custody watching CCTV footage of his misdemeanours, his lawyer at his slope, and not recognising the infamous being on the screen.

Football is still coming to terms with mental illness and Caulker, an international and a last-place linger remember at Queens Park Rangers of financially misguided dates as a Premier League club, has been an easy target. He is not was striving to make excuses or acquire sympathy. These are details he knows unpleasant to narrate. Ive sat here for years hating myself and never understand why it is I couldnt only be like everybody else, he says. This time was almost the end. I seemed for large spans there was no light-footed at the end of the passageway. And yet “hes not” residence a gambling since December, or stroked alcohol since early March. The healing process that can rehabilitate him to the top level is well under way, with this interview, one he attempted out, potentially another step on the road to recovery.

A little under a year ago Caulker had spoken to the Guardian about a life-changing week spent in Sierra Leone, of humbling yet invigorating benevolence work with ActionAid that had rendered him with a sense of view. He returned to be galvanised under Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink at Loftus Road and, having invested the previous season on loan at Southampton and Liverpool unfulfilling stints which fuelled his latent dangers was ready to give his all. Early season recitals against Leeds and Cardiff indicated confidence had been rebuilt, reward for a summer of incessant fitness work.

The trigger that they are able to mail him spiralling to rock bottom would be injury. He snapped his groin at Barnsley and played in pain for weeks, dreading a incantation back in rehabilitation, before succumbing to an accompanied hip objection. I owed it to QPR to try, he says, but I was naive thinking I could still perform with the weeping. He has not played since last-place October, with the period celebrated by personal ferment and, simply of late, resurgence. Talking publicly, he advocated, may place younger participates towards seeking assist if they find themselves trampling the same itinerary, or knowing the same gumption of desertion, in a merciless industry. The real hope is the activity, as gallant as it is, may eventually prove more cathartic for Caulker himself.

He recognises his football ability as a gift but likewise a swear. It took him from Sunday League at 15 into the Premier League four years later, to the 2012 Olympics with Great Britain and into Roy Hodgsons England side for a friendly in Sweden later that year. His talent has persuaded some of the most respected directors he is worth engaging. Yet, while he could still get away with it on the pitch, he lived in denial. It was more than six years into his busines before he admitted he necessitated assist. You always think you can rein it back in again and the money plies a inaccurate sense of security. But at Southampton I realised, mentally, I was extend. I wasnt playing, my job was going nowhere and I had to reach out to someone. Medical doctors there tried to help me but others were just telling me got to go on the tone and express myself.

There was no understanding as to what was happening in my leader. I know theyd returned me in to do a job and they werent there to be babysitters. Just like at QPR, I needed to justify the money they were paying me but I was in a state and, at some place, there has to be a duty of care. Football does not deal well with mental illness. Maybe its changing but the support mechanisms are so often not there. Ive spoken to so many actors who have been told to go to the Sporting Chance clinic and theyve accepted because they know, if they take time off, theyll “losing ones” neighbourhood in the team. Someone gradations in and does well, so youre departed. That dissuades parties from getting improve. You feel obliged to get on with things.

I would urge cubs to speak to the PFA, to speak to their director, and not be scared about being stopped if they are experiencing like I did. Be brave enough to say you need improve before its too late. The feeling Id ever involved something to take the edge off. Football was my flee as a kid but that changed when I was chucked into the first team as a adolescent and abruptly football came with distres. My behavior of to address it, even in the early stages of my career, was gambling. Im an addict. Im addicted to triumphing, which people say is a positive in football but certainly not when it extends to gambling. I was addicted to trying to beat the system, because you reassure yourself there is a plan to it and you can beat it. You can never get your brain around why you arent.

Steven Caulker, here celebrating after scoring on his England debut in 2012, says his football ability is a gift but too a affliction. Photograph: Michael Regan/ Getty Images

He has played 123 ages in the Premier League and for eight teams with the same, horribly familiar hertz of insecurity and self-destruction seeking him to each. There is always a catalyst to the nosedive. The sleepless darkness, sat up till 5am replaying every bad decision Ive ever became in my life, perturbing what will be next Tottenham moved me to Bristol City on loan at 18 and they set me in a flat in the city centre surrounded by nightclubs, two casinos opposite, the various kinds of coin Id never seen in my life, and no counseling whatsoever. I was plucked formerly by a member of staff and told Id been recognized in the casino at 3am but their posture was: What you do in your free time is your business. Just dont gave it affect your acts out on the pitch.

At Swansea a year later it was an injury which created it all to the surface, and Spurs communicated me to Boasting Chance to sort myself out while I was recovering from my knee but I wasnt ready. I hadnt experienced enough agony to form me want to stop. I was gambling heavily when I went back to Tottenham, biding up to crazy hours of the darknes in casinos. I guess never feeling good enough played a big part in that. I never appeared I was on the same degree as any of the first-teamers but a big win in the casino and fund in my back pocket might change that. Being stopped sounds me even more because football was what I had relied on to make me feel better. So then the gambling was every single day. The pain of forgetting all my fund, combined with the pity and guilt, ingest away at me. So Id drink myself into oblivion so I wouldnt have to feel anything. I was numb but I was out of control.

The chairman, Daniel Levy, eventually attempted him out on a post-season trip-up to the Bahamas. He just said: The room you act is phenomenal. You either sort yourself out or lead but I can assure you, if you leave, youll be going down , not up. I was young, stupid. I took it as a challenge, a chance to prove him wrong. I was so immature. So I went to Cardiff and, for six months, everything was amazing. I was chieftain, the manager, Malky Mackay, knew I had some issues but offered to be there for me. I experienced wanted, so there was no gambling , no heavy binges but the second largest he was sacked, all the beasts came back. Thats all it took. Even before we played the next game, Id persuasion myself good-for-nothing would be the same. Thats the kind of cataclysmic envisioning Ive had to address.

Steven Caulker, here playing for Tottenham against Arsenal in 2010, says he made a big mistake leaving Spurs. Photo: Tom Jenkins for the Guardian

I pointed up at QPR that summertime, 2014, trying to hold it together, but the prompt there came in the second largest recreation when we were pummelled 4-0 at Tottenham. That detecting coming off the tone at White Hart Lane, knowing marriage been humiliated and that Levy was sitting up in the stand thinking: I told you so There was no disclaiming it any more. Id made a big mistake leaving Spurs. I should have stayed and sorted myself out. I required the ground to swallow me up. It just pounded in my psyche: dejection, unhappines, bitternes. From that instant I was run, even if I never wanted to accept it, and there is nothing that intensified. Id go for days without sleeping. I dont known better I endured it. That time was an absolute nightmare.

It was a vicious circle. Wed lose at the weekend and the love would get at me, and Id be interrupting. I really wanted to help us get results but we werent good enough and Id walk away taking responsibility in my head for the whole crews flunks. I couldnt sleep, are concerned about what had happened. The only comfort I acquired was in booze. It would silence the tones of indecision and self-hate, temporarily regardless, but Id be too intoxicated to go into teach, and the blackouts Id have no remember of anything. It could be Monday and Id have no remembrance of what had happened since Saturday night. Id wake up, roll over and look at my phone, and thered be texts from people saying: Did you really do this last-place darknes? The director want to talk to you. It was petrifying because I didnt know what had happened.

There were occasions where reference is would wake up in a police cell. He pouts when asked how often he has been arrested, upset to admit the above figures, but the drunk and disorderly offences would flare up from London to Southampton to Merseyside. Sometimes Id be sat there with law enforcement agencies and my solicitor, watching the CCTV footage of what Id done, and I didnt recognise myself. I couldnt conceive the person or persons I was. Its so hard to accept I could be like that. In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the nighttime throwing up, people were blackmailing me, association proprietors and bouncers: Offer money or well sell this story on you. And I had no meaning what Id even done on those blackouts. I eventually told the sorority I couldnt function and needed to go back into rehab.

Things might have improved last-place season under Hasselbaink had the hip hurt, diagnosed as a week-long edition that became a complaint which induced five different diagnosis , not interpret him powerless is again. Id expensed the organization 8m, was one of the top earners and one of the few left from the Premier League, and beings had no explanation why I wasnt acting. Why I was absent. It ended up as my toughest year ever. I couldnt learn. My girlfriend lost her mother and was grieving while living with someone struggling with craving. My son, who lives with his mother in Somerset, is still in academy so Id go months without recognizing him. He had always been my safe place. There was no release.

QPR and my agent tried to push me towards Lokomotiv Moscow in January, saying it would be a fresh start. Portion of me contemplated the money they were offering could solve all my difficulties but why would being on my own out in Russia help? I had no feeling how to separate the cycle and is available on Moscow while still disabled only appeared a recipe for disaster. The director, Ian Holloway, was actually tell people to stand. Id been in his office close to rips, so he said: How anyone could feel sending you there would be a good theme is beyond me. You need to get yourself right. I realized him for that but, for the sorority, I can see why it was appealing to be shot of me but I was in no fit district to move and eventually pulled the plug on it.

Id had one last-place gamble and lost a blaze of a lot of money in December. A last blowout. It was at that point I lastly countenanced I could not win; that there was no quick fix , no more fantasizing I could save the world through one good nighttime on the roulette wheel. It was all a fantasize that took me away from having to feel anything. I entertained suicide a lot in that stage. A dark era. Everything Id gone through in football, where had it taken me? All the remorse, the shame, the shame, the public humiliation in the working paper and for what? I could cling to my son, to what Id done in Africa, or the dimensions Id bought their own families, but Id blown everything else. I calculate Ive lost 70% what Ive payed. When “were losing” that amount of money, the guilt thats so many lives you could have changed. There was no flee , no way out, other than to leave.

Steven Caulker says: In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the darknes throwing up, parties were extorting me, club owneds and bouncers. Picture: Sarah Lee for the Guardian

But, in the moments of clarity, I knew I couldnt do that because of my son. I havent gambled since but the drink crowded the void for a while. I was frightened and didnt feel like there was anywhere else to transform. Rehab didnt production before so why would it work now? I stupidly took convenience in the alcohol but it objective up deepening the depression. It was relentless from every slant. Until 12 March. Thats the day I lost my “drivers licence”. Thats when I realised my life had now become unmanageable.

Caulker was ordered to pay 12,755 in penalties and costs at Slough magistrates court at the end of March and was banned from driving for 18 months, having refused to blow into a breathalyser after police were called to a parking lot near Windsor Castle. I knew I was over the limit, I knew Id get the ban but I didnt want to tell my parents Id fucked up again. What if I had driven the car out of the car park and killed someone? No, that was it. Ive been up before a adjudicate four or five times. No more second probabilities. Its a incarcerate sentence next. I was still injured and unable to play, so I signed off sick. I went to see a specialist who diagnosed me with depression and nervousnes. He prescribed me medication and we put together a design where I would take some time away to sort myself out.

He and his lover travelled to Africa and India, is contributing to orphanages, homeless shelters and academies where the bear was exposed and obvious. He has attended countless Gamblers Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous gathers, and has reached out to support works in video games such as Clarke Carlisle for advice. He has not touched alcohol since his arrest in March. He takes medication, a feeling stabiliser is striving to match my high-priceds and lows, and address that substance inequality which draws my practices so cataclysmic, twice a day. Golf is a new, most constructive vice.

People say Ive done all this because Ive had too much money shed at me but I know teenagers without a penny who have the same addictive characters as me. Whether I played football or not I would still be suffering from this illness, precisely without the public pressure and mortification. Addiction does not care. I am a man of extremes. Parties dont find me doing the additional training, feeing right, going to the reserve every night to get fit, were represented at the anonymous convenes, doing the donation make. That is still me. That is who I am. But I get fucked by these other demons and I desperately necessary something in the middle. I feel like Im getting there now, that things have finally changed.

Im doing interesting thing merely to prompt me to stay on track. I could be relying on taxis to get me everywhere while Im banned but Im exploiting public transport. Im living in one of the owneds I own in Feltham, back where I grew up, to stir me recollect how hard I had to work to get out of here aged 15. Its a remember that, if I continue to unravel, I wont improve my statu again. Money considers the fissures. It can be evil. It prolongs the agony.

QPRs musicians reported for pre-season last-place Friday but Caulker, who has one year to run on his contract and has been improving all summertime with the former conference player Drewe Broughton at Goals centre in Hayes, had been signed off until July. Life at the golf-club had degenerated into an incessant flow of internal disciplinary hearings and, despite Holloway having become clear his desire to retain the centre-halfs business, his future will not is currently under Loftus Road. What happens next is all a bit perplexed, all a bit uncertain, he says. The manager has texted me several times offering his support and “says hes” misses me at the club but my brand-new representative has been informed by the owners Im not welcome back.

For too long Ive disliked everything about myself and I needed to learn to affection myself again. I miss video games like crazy. I dont detect as if Ive experienced playing football since Cardiff. I dont want to type my identify into Google and just see a roster of humbling narrations. I want people to remember I am a footballer who was good enough to represent his country at 20 and still has 10 years left in the game. At 40% of my ability, I was playing at the highest level. Now I feel good mentally and I want the chance to show people, including my son, what I am absolutely capable of. Wherever the opportunity starts, Im exactly appreciative still to be alive.

In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123.

In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.

In Australia, the crisis support assistance Lifeline is on 13 11 14.

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apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’

The QPR defender talks powerfully about his strives with mental illness, his addictions to gamble and drinking and why “he il be” thankful still to be alive

Steven Caulker, here celebrating after scoring on his England debut in 2012, says his football ability is a gift but too a affliction. Photograph: Michael Regan/ Getty Images

Steven Caulker, here playing for Tottenham against Arsenal in 2010, says he made a big mistake leaving Spurs. Photo: Tom Jenkins for the Guardian

Steven Caulker says: In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the darknes throwing up, parties were extorting me, club owneds and bouncers. Picture: Sarah Lee for the Guardian

In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123.

In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.

In Australia, the crisis support assistance Lifeline is on 13 11 14.

The post Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2wBPG5y via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes

apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’

The QPR defender talks powerfully about his strives with mental illness, his addictions to gamble and drinking and why “he il be” thankful still to be alive

Steven Caulker, here celebrating after scoring on his England debut in 2012, says his football ability is a gift but too a affliction. Photograph: Michael Regan/ Getty Images

Steven Caulker, here playing for Tottenham against Arsenal in 2010, says he made a big mistake leaving Spurs. Photo: Tom Jenkins for the Guardian

Steven Caulker says: In Liverpool I was waking up in the middle of the darknes throwing up, parties were extorting me, club owneds and bouncers. Picture: Sarah Lee for the Guardian

In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123.

In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.

In Australia, the crisis support assistance Lifeline is on 13 11 14.

The post Steven Caulker:’ I’ve sat here for years hating myself … This year was almost the end’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2wBPG5y via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes