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@psychoanalysisforeveryone
Some legends are told Some turn to dust or to gold But you will remember me Remember me, for centuries Just one mistake Is all it will take We’ll go down in history Remember me for centuries
Independent Dr. Grey / General Doyle Multimuse from the popular RoosterTeeth webseries, Red vs Blue
The Doctor | The General | Protocol | Inquiries
{ Partially relocating to @notfighters. This blog will still exist as a sideblog to that one, but this version of Emily can also be found there. }
imfxckingawesome:
psychoanalysisforeveryone:
Oh goodness, that was an interesting reaction. Was he nervous? She didn’t exactly blame him: that must have hurt to have anyone touch. They had the poor thing on painkillers, didn’t they?
“Oh! Well, this is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”
Huffing lightly, Felix glanced to the side. He didn’t like having anyone examine his wounds, he could usually take care of himself just fine, but now he had to sit where he was lamely.
“The knife was too blunt to cleanly cut.”
He chirped out this one bit of information, glancing to her for but a moment.
“Yes, dear, I can see that! Oh goodness, I don’t think I’ve seen knife damage comparable to this since...”
Emily trailed off, breath hitching in her throat and terrifying, ever-present smile fading completely off of her face. Her hazel-gray eyes unfocused, going slightly distant as the thought of distinctive, x-shaped facial scars crashed to the front of her mind, bringing with it images of the blank, inhuman helmet that had concealed them, and a low, growling voice. Dark armor and her comrades gunned down in the snow, patients incinerated in their beds.
She shut her eyes and shook her head, smile springing back to life brighter, though more seemingly forced, than before when she opened them again. All that didn’t matter just now. It wasn’t important. The patient in front of her mattered more than that. Though she still couldn’t place that voice of his...
“... well now, let’s get you fixed up! It’s going to take quite a few stitches to close these, but the good news is that they’re not nearly as bad as they look! How’s your pain level, dear?”
shotgundammit:
psychoanalysisforeveryone:
shotgundammit:
“…You’re a weird one, little miss. But it’s not like I mind none. So, do I get a name, if I’m going to be seeing you around?”
“Hm. I don’t know if I should.”
There’s still laughter in her voice, and her eyes shine just a little brighter. In fact, when she giggles, her wings almost seem to heal a little, hanging less lifelessly and looking a little less ragged.
“I’ve been told that it’s dangerous to tell a demon your real name~”
“…Maybe only a little”, he admits, shrugging. It was worth a shot. But he can respect that. He’d do the same in her position. But his tail has returned behind him, as he’s relaxed some. “Tell you what. Doesn’t have to be real. Just something to call you. Folks call me Sarge”.
Hm. A compromise, then. And besides, angels can get around such dangers far more easily than humans can. Preferred, human-sounding names don’t always count as “real names” when it comes to angels and demons, anyway.
“... Emily.”
<3 | @shotgundammit
“Trouble? Of course not.”
Whyever would they have trouble?
Bright purple eyes find his tail, wrapped around his leg, and glitter in interest. Is he nervous? She doesn’t have her halo anymore, but that doesn’t make her wings any less intimidating, she supposes. And she considers that demons might feel uncomfortable in her presence, though she can’t imagine they’d feel aggressive. After all, she’s not that different from them.
“… do I frighten you, little thing?”
It’s clear he has his suspicions, as he watches her very carefully. After all, he’s encountered a few angels, some fallen, some not, and all have had very clear feelings about his kind. And the last thing he needs is more drama. “…Frighten? Hell no”, he says, with almost amusement. “Just don’t want to start something. What brings you to a place like this, then?”
“I might ask you the same.”
She tilts her head unsettlingly far to one side, eyes seeming to flash steel gray as she studies him. He isn’t really a “little thing,” but that’s just habit after so long to say that. She has a sudden impulse to reach out and touch him, but she controls herself, allowing her ragged wings to flutter in place.
“… I thought yours gave up on hospitals when doctors figured out their morals.”
Sniffing, he looks around. After all, it’s a fair question. “Lots of suffering in places like this. Sorrow, anger, guilt. Keeps a demon fed”, he answers, simply. He can’t do graveyards- too much religious imagery there, makes him uneasy. “I don’t hang around too long, if you’re worried. I’m a demon, not a monster”. Looking back, he stares. “Why do you care?”
“I’m not worried! It’s just not often that I have company around here.”
She laughs, the sound like ringing bells or windchimes. Like sugar for the ears, she’s heard it said.
“… I don’t mind it, actually~”
…That’s. The first time he’s heard that in who knows how long. Looking at her for a long moment, he seems to be trying to figure out if she’s being honest or not. Then he shakes his head. “…You’re a weird one, little miss. But it’s not like I mind none. So, do I get a name, if I’m going to be seeing you around?”
“Hm. I don’t know if I should.”
There’s still laughter in her voice, and her eyes shine just a little brighter. In fact, when she giggles, her wings almost seem to heal a little, hanging less lifelessly and looking a little less ragged.
“I’ve been told that it’s dangerous to tell a demon your real name~”
<3 | @shotgundammit
“Trouble? Of course not.”
Whyever would they have trouble?
Bright purple eyes find his tail, wrapped around his leg, and glitter in interest. Is he nervous? She doesn’t have her halo anymore, but that doesn’t make her wings any less intimidating, she supposes. And she considers that demons might feel uncomfortable in her presence, though she can’t imagine they’d feel aggressive. After all, she’s not that different from them.
“… do I frighten you, little thing?”
It’s clear he has his suspicions, as he watches her very carefully. After all, he’s encountered a few angels, some fallen, some not, and all have had very clear feelings about his kind. And the last thing he needs is more drama. “…Frighten? Hell no”, he says, with almost amusement. “Just don’t want to start something. What brings you to a place like this, then?”
“I might ask you the same.”
She tilts her head unsettlingly far to one side, eyes seeming to flash steel gray as she studies him. He isn’t really a “little thing,” but that’s just habit after so long to say that. She has a sudden impulse to reach out and touch him, but she controls herself, allowing her ragged wings to flutter in place.
“… I thought yours gave up on hospitals when doctors figured out their morals.”
Sniffing, he looks around. After all, it’s a fair question. “Lots of suffering in places like this. Sorrow, anger, guilt. Keeps a demon fed”, he answers, simply. He can’t do graveyards- too much religious imagery there, makes him uneasy. “I don’t hang around too long, if you’re worried. I’m a demon, not a monster”. Looking back, he stares. “Why do you care?”
“I’m not worried! It’s just not often that I have company around here.”
She laughs, the sound like ringing bells or windchimes. Like sugar for the ears, she’s heard it said.
“... I don’t mind it, actually~”
<3 | @shotgundammit
“Trouble? Of course not.”
Whyever would they have trouble?
Bright purple eyes find his tail, wrapped around his leg, and glitter in interest. Is he nervous? She doesn’t have her halo anymore, but that doesn’t make her wings any less intimidating, she supposes. And she considers that demons might feel uncomfortable in her presence, though she can’t imagine they’d feel aggressive. After all, she’s not that different from them.
“… do I frighten you, little thing?”
It’s clear he has his suspicions, as he watches her very carefully. After all, he’s encountered a few angels, some fallen, some not, and all have had very clear feelings about his kind. And the last thing he needs is more drama. “…Frighten? Hell no”, he says, with almost amusement. “Just don’t want to start something. What brings you to a place like this, then?”
“I might ask you the same.”
She tilts her head unsettlingly far to one side, eyes seeming to flash steel gray as she studies him. He isn’t really a “little thing,” but that’s just habit after so long to say that. She has a sudden impulse to reach out and touch him, but she controls herself, allowing her ragged wings to flutter in place.
“... I thought yours gave up on hospitals when doctors figured out their morals.”
<3 | @shotgundammit
“Trouble? Of course not.”
Whyever would they have trouble?
Bright purple eyes find his tail, wrapped around his leg, and glitter in interest. Is he nervous? She doesn’t have her halo anymore, but that doesn’t make her wings any less intimidating, she supposes. And she considers that demons might feel uncomfortable in her presence, though she can’t imagine they’d feel aggressive. After all, she’s not that different from them.
“... do I frighten you, little thing?”
closed starter for @psychoanalysisforeveryone
Felix was known for getting himself in rough situations. He’d usually be battered and bruised after getting home from work, but…
It usually didn’t result in his current situation, beaten and bloody, a pretty nice gash carving itself down his chest and stomach from a knife that one of the guys had been carrying. He’d been brought to the hospital, and was currently in the ER, the bleeding stemmed only slightly by one of the nurses.
God he hated this planet.
Sinking deep into the pillows that kept him slightly propped up, he groaned from the searing pain that ripped across his chest and stomach, lips twisting into a faint snarl. One hand gripped at the hospital gown he wore, but he was careful to not touch the wound, and he shook his head slightly. For years he’d been avoiding the hospital, and the one day he’d let his guard down around a bunch of punks, look where he ended up. It wasn’t like the day could get any worse.
At least, he figured that until he heard the name, as well as the voice, of the doctor that would be looking over him.
It had been a relatively new development that wearing armor was no longer commonplace in the hospital: only when there was a higher risk of transmitting illness between staff and patients than normal, and masks and gloves simply wouldn’t cut it. It set Emily on edge, because it was just so hard to remember a time when “the only people not wearing armor these days are dead” wasn’t relevant. But, the room she was walking into was clearly an injury, not an illness.
“Well! We’re certainly going to need to find some blood for you, aren’t we?” she chirped, finally lowering the chart to get her first good look at him. The name on the chart, to her, could not have read as any more fake if it had been written in a children’s book. But his name didn’t really matter. She didn’t recognize him, so he likely didn’t have any records with them. Surprising, but not impossible.
“The good news is that it may be just a matter of some stitches, but your scans were very unclear about the exact depth of your…”
The chart was vague about the suspected cause of the injury, and from the information she had been given, he had either refused to answer the question, or had been unable to do so. But the nurse that had treated him upon arrival had been absolutely certain that it was a…
“… knife wound.”
Silently, Felix stared at her, only barely absorbing the words that she was saying. To be honest, it was horrible, and he was silently going through all the ways he could’ve improved his situation within the last few hours. Sadly, that didn’t matter, and he found himself frowning slightly as he nodded, slowly tuning back in.
“So I won’t die then?” he hummed, tone vaguely snarky, and he sounded like he really didn’t want to be here. “I mean, I swear it was looking a bit grim there.” He grinned a bit, moving to sit up more, only to cough. ”… Alright, that’s a fuck you, then…”
Shaking his head, he looked to Grey, silently examining her.
“I mean, needing stitches is the best case scenario here, isn’t it? It means it’s not too deep.”
“Well, let’s take a look at it!”
Why did his voice sound so familiar? And why couldn’t she place it? Maybe he was former Federal Army and she’d encountered him before. Oh well, that’s not important just now.
Emily breezed closer to him, already setting his chart aside and pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Now, let’s see here…”
He couldn’t help but tense his whole body as Emily got closer, gritting his teeth. It wasn’t like he expected to be hurt anymore than he was, he just didn’t like the thought of her examining him. Despite this unease, though, he forced himself to relax.
Oh goodness, that was an interesting reaction. Was he nervous? She didn’t exactly blame him: that must have hurt to have anyone touch. They had the poor thing on painkillers, didn’t they?
“Oh! Well, this is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”
Angels and Demons Sentence Starters
“I was once as divine as you, but then I slipped into the darkness.”
“Y-your wings…”
“You’re not an angel. You never were.”
“You’re a mockery of Grace.”
“If we are following traditional terms, the angels were the ones that struck fear into humans, while the devils were gentlemen of their craft.”
“I should’ve plucked your feathers when I had a chance.”
“Go choke on your own halo you overstuffed feather duster.”
“A demon? Oh no, I am much, much worse.”
“Such a gentle, innocent little thing like you shouldn’t be in such a dark, dangerous place like this.”
“An angel in hell is only asking for trouble.”
“Why is it that an angel can fall but a demon can’t rise?”
“You are where you ought to be, demon- under my heel.”
“What… what are you?”
“Your last mistake was trusting ME!”
“Angels host as much cruelty as demons do! Are you seriously that blind to your own ignorance?!”
“You are blinded by your own brilliance, that you never saw the shadow growing behind you.”
“Your wings are /mine/, little angel.”
“I got you by the horns, demon!”
“Angel caught your tail?”
“Your presence gives me hives.”
“I knew you were hiding something… scandalous.”
“You don’t… /look/ like an angel…”
“You don’t… /look/ like a demon…”
“I fell an era ago, little one. Come, I’ll guide you.”
“You’re a new one, aren’t you?”
“I remember you; I threw you from the heavens after the Incident.”
“Survived the fall straight to hell, did you? A pity.”
🌠+ add your own!
Send me ‘⚰️‘ to find my muse visiting a grave.
Or if you can’t see the symbol send ‘Mourning’ instead.
I will always reblog this. It’s fascinating and terrifying at the same time.
Holy shit
holy fucking shit
I am now officially terrified of snakes.
#let’s just take a moment to appreciate that gif of a scientist casually swirling blood around in a wine glass
What I’ve realized about hiding an unbearable amount of pain is that it makes you both the strongest and weakest person. Strong because you learn to cope with and handle all the suffering. Weak because it wears you down until all of you is broken.
tara love (via ink-and-oceans)
closed starter for @psychoanalysisforeveryone
Felix was known for getting himself in rough situations. He’d usually be battered and bruised after getting home from work, but…
It usually didn’t result in his current situation, beaten and bloody, a pretty nice gash carving itself down his chest and stomach from a knife that one of the guys had been carrying. He’d been brought to the hospital, and was currently in the ER, the bleeding stemmed only slightly by one of the nurses.
God he hated this planet.
Sinking deep into the pillows that kept him slightly propped up, he groaned from the searing pain that ripped across his chest and stomach, lips twisting into a faint snarl. One hand gripped at the hospital gown he wore, but he was careful to not touch the wound, and he shook his head slightly. For years he’d been avoiding the hospital, and the one day he’d let his guard down around a bunch of punks, look where he ended up. It wasn’t like the day could get any worse.
At least, he figured that until he heard the name, as well as the voice, of the doctor that would be looking over him.
It had been a relatively new development that wearing armor was no longer commonplace in the hospital: only when there was a higher risk of transmitting illness between staff and patients than normal, and masks and gloves simply wouldn’t cut it. It set Emily on edge, because it was just so hard to remember a time when “the only people not wearing armor these days are dead” wasn’t relevant. But, the room she was walking into was clearly an injury, not an illness.
“Well! We’re certainly going to need to find some blood for you, aren’t we?” she chirped, finally lowering the chart to get her first good look at him. The name on the chart, to her, could not have read as any more fake if it had been written in a children’s book. But his name didn’t really matter. She didn’t recognize him, so he likely didn’t have any records with them. Surprising, but not impossible.
“The good news is that it may be just a matter of some stitches, but your scans were very unclear about the exact depth of your…”
The chart was vague about the suspected cause of the injury, and from the information she had been given, he had either refused to answer the question, or had been unable to do so. But the nurse that had treated him upon arrival had been absolutely certain that it was a…
“… knife wound.”
Silently, Felix stared at her, only barely absorbing the words that she was saying. To be honest, it was horrible, and he was silently going through all the ways he could’ve improved his situation within the last few hours. Sadly, that didn’t matter, and he found himself frowning slightly as he nodded, slowly tuning back in.
“So I won’t die then?” he hummed, tone vaguely snarky, and he sounded like he really didn’t want to be here. "I mean, I swear it was looking a bit grim there.” He grinned a bit, moving to sit up more, only to cough. ”… Alright, that’s a fuck you, then…”
Shaking his head, he looked to Grey, silently examining her.
“I mean, needing stitches is the best case scenario here, isn’t it? It means it’s not too deep.”
“Well, let’s take a look at it!”
Why did his voice sound so familiar? And why couldn’t she place it? Maybe he was former Federal Army and she’d encountered him before. Oh well, that’s not important just now.
Emily breezed closer to him, already setting his chart aside and pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Now, let’s see here...”
