#Bone Distractors

[debb987]

ROTTMNT AU for Eldest Brother fic

Regarding The Eldest Brother fic, chapter 13th.  So spoilers, duh! Specially if you’re reading this when I haven’t even published this chapter yet xD

Ok, so this is what happened in the inbetween of Raph’s toddler years and his encounter with Draxum, at least in the head of this silly author~ but honestly? If the author doesn’t show it in the story, then it’s up to the readers to fill up the blanks and your hcs are as canon as the author’s writing (someone please tell JK Rowling this xD). Anything you can come up with that fits, it’s cannon for this fic! It’s as valid as the idea living rent-free in my head if not stated otherwise in a future chapter! n.n

Below are spoilers (maybe) for the fic, this is your last warning~ please also consider it’s the bare bones of it.

Draxum goes to the surface, following the trail of Splinter. Draxum finds their different hideouts a few times — Splinter didn’t go directly to the sewers. Honestly, it wouldn’t be my first option either! — so Splinter fends off Draxum while Raph grabs his brothers and flees every single time.

The Head Council of Hidden City thinks Draxum is starting to cause too much havoc — it’s not like Draxum gives a flying fuck about discretion or collateral damage tbh —  and wants to avoid a war against humanity, thus send their own tropes to arrest Draxum (as they should have done from the beginning instead of relying on Mayhem only, the idiots!)

Draxum is imprisoned in an anti-mystic area (because the police have these little balls for that same purpose, as shown in Hidden City's Most Wanted, their existence is glossed over but THERE) so he stays incarcerated for quite a while until one day, Big Mama offers to take him out of prison, so he can continue his work. She doesn’t tell him she wants the mutagen to create more fighters for Battle Nexus and couldn’t care less about the prophecy, and she is not stupid enough to let him free at full power, so the area she offers for him to work at is “anti-mystic” just like his prison cell, and heavily guarded by Big Mama's goons.

Draxum just has more freedom of movement and a way to continue what he had intended to since the very beginning, just no longer on his terms, and with Subject One no longer at his side.

No more soldiers, no more experiments. Just perfect the formula and mass produce it. No deviations.

Draxum has little choice but to agree with her terms, and thus is on “house arrest”, working on the mutagen in “exchange” of having Big Mama and the gargoyles search for Subject One and bring the snapper to him once found.

Big Mama thinks that’s a distractor, so she doesn’t really lift a finger to find Raph. She just has his existence noted at the back of her mind in case Draxum starts to get out of control, so she can use “Subject One” as incentive for the alchemist to behave. 

The gargoyles are the only ones actively searching, but only mildly. They’re silly and care just about themselves more than anything else, but some of the things Draxum put Subject One through were kinda harsh even by their standards, so when they do find Raph they just go:

“Oh there he is! Maybe let him grow a bit before we report it?”

“I like how you think!”

And promptly forget to actually report on it lmao. So, that’s how Raph gets to have a semblance of a normal life with Splinter and his fam, at least for a while <3

Draxum at some point realizes he’s being used and releases the oozequitos in NYC before Big Mama can use them for Battle Nexus, so our turtle teens had no hand on that. They just get to witness the insects in action one day, go "is the police of Hidden City handling that? No? Ok, guess we should lend a hand or smth" and thus the series begins.

Big Mama is pissed about it, so she enacts punishment (have not decided on which yet atm) and ultimately dumps Draxum’s butt back in prison, back to his cell, where he remains until the Foot Clan breaks him out, with promises of grandeur and this shiny mystic armor that would make him powerful enough to be able to subjugate the human race with no army needed, just himself! Ain’t that neat? No tricks or anything, obviously...

Draxum agrees, and then ch 13 happens.

So Draxum is basically imprisoned and used, time and again, to fulfill someone else’s agenda and goals ever since Raph’s escape, which is exactly what he did / would have put Raph through. Karma, sweet karma <3

As for the mystic weapons, in my head our Rise!Turtles got them in the Hidden City thanks to Leo and Mikey, who charmed over the mafia with their excellent service in Huesos’ establishment, because in this AU they were younger when they started to venture out to NYC and the Hidden City, and I imagine a lot of their shenanigans happened all the same regardless of age difference xD

And that’s it~ thanks for reading this background lore if you bothered to <3 Hopefully you’re reading this after Jan 6th, 2023 when Chapter 13th is published and not sooner *author stares intently*

*Reader may or may not feel their sins crawling on their back* (yes, I like Undertale too ksks)

See ya’ later~ dEBB987.

[flipping-the-coin]

Hush; whats the best and worst parts about living in megatrons walls?

ℰ𝓁𝒾𝓉ℯ 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈𝓂ℯ𝒸𝒽: 𝒜ℊℯ𝓃𝓉 ℋ𝓊𝓈𝒽

◇─◇──◇─◇

I'm not quite sure how you managed to get this question to me, but I'm pinning the blame on Megatron. Whatever the case, it's not a problem. I've got nothing better to do stuck up here all the time.

Let me start off by saying that there is a LOT I could ramble about here. There are plenty of great things about being the unwanted roomie, and for that same reason, there are more than a few negatives when it comes to this whole arrangement. Some of the worst parts of this whole situation include everything listed below.

Its boring as slag here. Megatron never does anything of interest, and then on the odd chance that he does, it's always for Orion and so its sappy as frag.

The funds the guard gives me are just not enough to make do. Not to be ungrateful, but I have Carnage and my two other pets to take care of. I never told Paradox about them, but well, I didn't think it was important until I started going hungry.

It gets really cold up here in the walls sometimes, usually during the rainy season. Megatron has a space heater since the sound of the actual heater that was built into the hab makes Orion twitchy. But that space heater doesn't work through walls.

Megatron and Orion interface all. the. time. I don't think I need to say much more aside from stating that I tend to take a walk when they do their thing.

Orion organizes his stuff WRONG. Nothing is put into any sort of decipherable organizational order and it drives me mad. I've tried fixing it, but then Orion gets mad at Megatron and Megatron in turn gets mad at me. So I just have to deal with it.

The whole hab is decorated in a very debatable manner, but I can mostly deal with it... except when it comes to Orion's stupid RUG. The thing is neon yellow with black stripes to make it look like miner marks. It's hideous and clashes with every other piece of furniture, but Orion loves it. Megatron tolerates it.

I've had to stop attempted murders about... twelve times now? Four where from Ratchet putting too many pills in Orion's meds, not sure if it was an accident or not. Two were from Ratchet again, but in a more physical sense. The rest where just mechs with vendettas trying to screw Megatron over in subtle ways. They suck at it by the way. Poisoning energon stopped being effective two stellar cycles into the great war.

That's about the worst of it I think. As for the good things? Let me list those in similar fashion real quick.

Megatron gives me stuff to read. It's REALLY boring up here, so every now and then he throws me a bone so to speak and offers me reading material. Pretty sure its mostly illegal, but it's something to do.

Megatron also lets me proofread his writing and edit sometimes. With no one else in the hab more often than not, I suspect he enjoys knowing someone is listening when he spends groons reading poetry. It's a nice distractor once you get used to the romantic nature of his work.

Every now and then Megatron makes me something absolutely delicious to eat. It's usually after I do him a favor, but by the Thirteen, he makes amazing pastries. I am willing to jump through hoops to get some of his cooking.

I got annoyed with Orion's garden situation so I took up the role of gardener with a disguise in place. Now once every two deca-cycles I get to have tea with him and First Aid. It's a blast.

I got to blanket as a gift from Orion once while I was using my alias. I adore that blanket.

Yeah I think that's the most notable stuff. The cons kinda outway the pros, but it is what it is. I'm happy enough I suppose. I've got my pets and I've got my little spot in the walls.

It's fine.

[whoreforhorror]

Hey there! :) can I request Hannibal lecter with a reader that has powers like 11 from stranger things?

Ok, I’m going to be fully honest and admit that I’ve never seen Stranger Things. I asked a friend who has so I think I have a rough idea of what 11 can do but this may be a VERY loose interpretation.

From what I understand, 11 can use telekinesis if they cannel their anger/extreme emotions (but it uses a lot of energy and physically weakens them) and can sense where people are when in sensory deprivation (which I’m also guessing uses a lot of energy?) so that’s what I’m going to go with.

Hannibal with an S/O who has powers like 11 from Stranger Things

Hannibal is going to have so. many. tests for you to do. He wants to know as much as possible. Is there a maximum weight? Can you move liquids? How far away can you sense people? Can you control your telekinesis at all or is it entirely random? Is there something different in your physical/neurological structure that gives you these abilities? He’s curious by nature and you’re definitely going to face the brunt of his inquisitiveness.

The longer you are in a relationship with him, the more he’ll care about the negative side effects of using your ability. To him, it comes down to whether or not the knowledge gained is worth the damage to your body or y’all’s relationship. 

Hannibal is going to try and use his knowledge of psychology to better your control of your abilities. When he learned about your abilities you could only use the telekinetic portion when under immense stress. He wants you to be able to use your abilities while calm and focused. 

He’ll have you move an orange from one side of the counter to the other, and then back. Rinse and repeat. He wants to build up your ability to both stay calm and use telekinesis in ways that typically require fine motor skills. He knows you’ve reached his goal when you can make an entire meal without a mistake. That’s his big telekinetic test.

He’ll have you find someone while in sensory deprivation and will slowly, session by session, introduce different distractors until you can find someone any time of day in any location. If you’re really against it, he’s going to convince you that it’s for the betterment of your quality of life and to help ensure you’ll be happy in life.

That isn’t entirely untrue as time goes on. In the start, he wanted to be able to use you to get new meals and achieve much more impressive feats under the Chesapeake Ripper title. As time goes on and he grows more and more attached to you, he genuinely wants you to be able to control your abilities so that they don’t rule your life. 

He’ll also grow more cautious of your side effects as time goes on, especially if they compound into more serious issues. He’s a doctor. He knows what can come if the body is weak for an extended amount of time. Illnesses, bruises and broken bones, depression, and more. He’ll make sure after every session that you are cared for properly. Food, water, rest, anything you need, he’ll make it happen if it speeds up your recovery. 

He, no matter how long you’re both together, sees great use of your abilities in regard to the Chesapeake Ripper. Things can be moved, strung up, balanced, and organized in ways he would never be able to achieve on his own. He’ll invite you into the world of his art, his masterpieces. He’s giving you a very rare gift. The ability to see him and know his work from his perspective. To be him, in a way. Not many get that opportunity.

[s1l4s-l1k3s-t0m4t03s]

When the dysphoria gets so bad you whant to rip the skin straight off your bones <<<<

Also i have started this thing were i scratch at the top of my hand it literally for no apparent reason it sucks and the bad thing is its mostly at random times and it feels like i cant control when i do it idk man i think iam going crazy

(Thanks for letting me vent to you btw it feels like your the only one that really cares about me even though we dont interact with eachother that often ♡)

-jester

dysphoria suxks so bad im so sorry :( i know what its like to have ftm dysphoria, not so much otherkin/alterhuman/are these the terns you use?sorry if not. i can try give some distractors that work for me and my bf (whos a cat otherkin :3)

agression outlets:

-buying a mug/plate and smashing it

-filling a ziploc bag w water, lettjng it freeze, and wack it against a wall

-if yoy wanna cvt, cvt a pillow. if you want, fill the stuffung w red paint so its visually bl00dy

-if you bvrn, burn a old piece of clothing (IN A CONTROLLED FIRE BTW.) a piece of paper doesnt work much

-stim really hard to loud music

pain

-cover a teatowel or snall cloth w water and freeze it. you can play and unfold it when irs frozen + jtll numb your hands

-rubber bands. i hate them and its still $h but its better than other things you could do

-run your wrists under freezinh water and count till ur fav number

distraction

-draw somethjng real g0rey. maybe draw what you feel like, or feel like doing to yourself

-read amolad :]

-listen to music on full volume and stim amd hyperfocus on the lyrics

if theres smt specifix you want help w, i can try :]

i hope ur doing okay <3

also for the thjng w ur hand, if u wanns stop, make a paper bracelet w words on it so you van remind yourself not to. writr a distraction on it.

proud of you for venting <3

[lailuhhh]

It appears to be Wednesday again

“I won’t lie to you, we don’t have any information on this, only that our boys across the whole damn desert have been getting hit. There’s no evidence that the techs can find that differentiate these IEDs from others. All reports are practically the same; groups go out, techs disarm, bomb goes off. Every place our boys are sent out to are searched thoroughly, none of the reports specify any sort of hostile activity. As of this moment, because of the extent of injuries received, some higher ups think it best for you boys to double up.”

“What are the extent of injuries, sir?”

“Most have landed our boys in med for weeks. The worst has been broken bones but nothing that have sent any home as of yet, and no deaths have occurred. As of this morning, we are temporarily offline until we receive new orders. You’ll all be informed when they come in. Dismissed.”

Every group that hadn’t run into any trouble besides the regular was given reports to look through, to study and see if they could pinpoint any common denominator between them. They were even sent copies from other bases to see if maybe those had anything similar, but none of them were out of the ordinary. The only similarities was the techs confirmed they’d disarmed the bomb before it supposedly got set off.

None of it made sense. Mac had requested to speak with a tech after reading a report of it being completely dismantled, and it still managed to somehow detonate.

“I dunno what to tell you man. I took stock of every little bit I took off it; wires, cover, power supply, distractor points— there was nothing that could’ve made it go off that I could see. There could’ve been another one around, but I scrubbed the entire area and had my scrambler on. One sec I was packing up, next I had a face full of dirt and my arm was ripped to ribbons. Don’t know where the explosion originated either. So unless it was something invisible with no way for me to detect it, I got nothing.”

And then another after that, where it was the overwatch that got it.

“Shit’s fucked right now bro. Me and Don switch off like every other week for who wants to be the tech, so we both know what to look for. His nest was clear; only said he might’ve heard something as I was just finishing up, then the fucking thing went off. He got trapped under some debris for a few hours but he’s healing. We couldn’t figure out where the explosion fucking originated, just took out the fucking building he was in. I don’t know what to tell you dude. Just be fucking careful.”

[pawnshopsouls]

-Theo and Stoat are a distraction-

With precision aiming from Stoat and a few hastily rigged smoke bombs, Stoat and his emotional-support-pilot, Theo, managed to get a smoke bomb right in the midst of the four.

Furious, the pinstriped taken tries to bat away at the smoke, glowing eye scanning the obscured field to find its distractor.

Taken!Bonely HP: 49/78 — [DISTRACTED]

[en24news]

Global Bone Distractors Market Size and Sharing to Boost Huge Growth Until 2026 - Instant Interview

Global Bone Distractors Market Size and Sharing to Boost Huge Growth Until 2026 – Instant Interview

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Facts & Factors (FnF), a major market research company recently published a research report on “Bone distractors market: global industry perspective, full analysis and forecast, 2019-2025” to its research database. This Bone Distractors Market Report analyzes the full market overview, including an executive summary that covers the main trends in the market.

The Bone…

[kalbong-tiu]

Who to Vote in the Upcoming Presidential Election

Warning: I'm not a political analyst, I mean not just yet, so puns are not intended intentionally.

BBM

Federal Party

Federalization of the Philippines

Those people who managed to outlive FEM's Martial Law era must be a bit scared of this guy, his only son and heir apparent. The inevitable question however is this, 'What if the apple falls short of the tree it was clinging into'? The legitimate voting public born after that disputable event in the history of Phil. politics must be scrambling hard by now for any subjective bit of information to satisfy their innocent sensibilities and will likely still end up clueless and foolhardily biased nonetheless.

VP-LeGeR

Liberal Party

Liberalism, Social Liberalism

Typically a naturally bred-in the-bone Filipina, a newbie in the field of dirty Philippine politics and the only candidate outside the Nationalista party's grip, her political experience and platform is highly dubious and implausibly weightless. That, if she will survive the onslaught of eventual accusation and counter-accusation from her distractors in the next quarter prior to the election period. Or, being the lone wolf in the pack, her candidacy is bound to fail with predictable certainty unless of course she will come up with the tried and tested aid of divine intervention strategy, which is highly unlikely. Nonetheless, appeasing the masses after her excessively contradictory performance as the current VP is also tantamount to primarily dishing out her floundering attempt for the presidency, especially with the administrations strong constituency up NoMa and the rest of the voters down SoSo. Millennials against the rest of the ruralist is a fight to watch and a good betting prospect.

MM. FraMDom

Aksyon Demokratiko

Progressivism, Liberal Democracy

Young, ambitious and...what?

He may win in Tondo alone but it doesnt mean the whole country will eventually accede and follow through unless Facebook will crash down in the next six months or had MaRox edged out Du30 in 2016, he might have the chance. Erap made it through and he interestingly went to playing 'jueteng' in Muntinglupa.

Social disorganization anyone?

Watch out for this guy in the next twenty years, though.

Sen. BdlR

Hugpong ng Pagbabago

Regionalism

Idi Amin is already dead and gone and the world would be much better place to live if we will not resurrect him. Diplomacy-wise, there will probably be a throwback to African politics in the mid seventies if this guy miraculously wins and we're not even that close to that continent. Watch out criminals though, Du30 is still alive and killing, I mean, kicking!

Sen. EmPaq

PDP-Laban

Democratic Socialism, Left-wing Populism, Phil. Federalism

Clearly a nuisance candidate(?) that does not need any introduction or a review whatsoever. What was he thinking anyway? The probability of aliens voting for this guy is a big possibility otherwise there would be an exodus of Filipino immigrants to any country willing to accept residency status because of lack of govermental certitude and confidence in democracy if he succeded. Boxing will become the national sport of the country and its not far to expect a PPV match after every calamity.

Sen.PaMoLac

Partido Reporma

Anti-communism, Social Conservatism

Other than the English interjection 'bang' which implies the sound of a discharged gun, 'ping' is a bit milder but still lethal, a clear miss, discernibly.There is just something not right for any former carrier military entity to govern a country democratically although for the last 32 years that is, in part, precisely what happened in this country. Military government is passe, eg; Myanmar, and the phrase 'old soldier's never die, they just fade away' is a dreadful consequence to consider anyway.

Synopsis:

Apparently the catchphrase for this upcoming election is federalism, societal change and populism, words associated with every dictator who came to power directly or indirectly in the past and it is, in this democratic society we figuratively believed we're in, utterly scary. But there is nothing to worry about as this upcoming 2022 PresElec. is evidently a race solely between a sole Liberal farmer and a horde of Nacionalista stooge of a billionaire and we already know who will win, eventually. Unless of course if the Chinese had their way or the Americans decide to invade the country. That, however, would be unprofitably counterproductive yet hilariously funny.

Abb:

NoMa- North of Manila

SoSo- South of Sorsogon

[richardsonshospital]

Underbite Correction With New Bone Jaw Surgery in Hindi. The young lad had a bite problem and it was identified as an underbite problem. The underbite was being rectified by new bone creation using a distractor 

[overlordplayer-celestial-empress]

NPCs (OCs):

Seraphina: [30] First creation of Empress, she is the assistant and overseerer of the entire guild. She is a Heteromorphic super-hybrid of Angel, demon, Dragon, fairy, genie, ghost, lycanthrope (any type) and a naga, although her appearance is human. She has long and silky dark aquatic blue hair, blue eyes, and six large, feathery, white wings. Her skin is a fair tone. Her class is a paladin knight, sworn to protect her creator at all costs. (9/7)

Nephele: [30] A Heteromorphic that works with Seraphina as another Paladin. She is a hybrid of a Dragon, Angel, and fairy and ghost, and naga, but like Seraphina, she appears human. She is black, with beautiful curly hair with blue highlights and brown eyes. Her six wings are that of a raven's. (9/7)

Alizeh: [30] Empress's personal butler. He is the head of all the staff and workers. A demonic-angelic assassin who is in the disguise of a human, but is a good person. Aging black hair, piercing yellow eyes and red demon's tail. Can turn into his demon/angel form at will. (1/22)

Summer: [?] the head chef in the kitchen...who is a skeleton. Bones, bones and more bones with red dots as eyes. Excellent cook. (?)

Haniel: [29] A heavily-scarred vampire, he is the head of security for the Guild. Light gray skin, dark brown hair and blood-red eyes, and sharp, white fangs. A skilled assassin due to his vampiric powers. Can transform into a large and demonic bat. (10/31)

Angelisa: [29] A shy and sweet healer elf that acts as the guild's nurse. She has her blonde hair in twin buns, and has black eyes with hot pink colored irises. Her skin is a light orange, and she wears black face paint. (4/4)

Sunburst: [29] a proud and talented peacock birdman that designs the clothing and armor of the Empress's army. He has a bright and shiny color-scheme of blue, purple and green shades with black eyes. He is unsurprisingly arrogant, but has good intentions. (5/5)

Mistral: [29] A demonic Warlock and scientist that works in the Experimental labs. He is rather kind to his subjects, and is a nice person in general. He has white-bleached hair with light blue eyes, and his skin is a pale tan. Can transform into a winged-monster at will. (10/6)

Dina: [5,000] A wise and intelligent Dragon who is the Celestial Empress's advisor and owner of the Guild's library. Her scales are a dark red, with eyes that shine like the sun. She has a rather aggressive and cold nature to everyone else that isn't in the Guild. Her home is within the library. (1/9)

Iris: [28] the human herbalist and gardener for the Guild. She provides the kitchen with fresh spices, herbs, fruits and vegetables for the everyday meals. She has rainbow hair and eyes, and fair skin. Sweet and gentle with everyone, but delivers harsh K.O.'s to every enemy. (4/5)

Raziel: [28] a sly and witty lizardman that is a scout for the Guild, and is a spy for the Empress. He has black and shiny scales, with a white underbelly. He has green eyes. Dina and Raziel are quite fond of each other. (2/14)

Ninka, Lady of Destruction and Organization: [28] a deity that Empress created. Ninka is the goddess of chaos and peace, and is very unpredictable in her motives. Half of her hair is white, the other half is black. Tan pale tan skin and different color eyes. She can mind control ghosts, skeletons and spirits & bend nature to her will. (?)

Neolani: [28] a hummingbird birdwoman that is a scout and messenger for the Empress. She has green and shiny feathers, with a pink and white underbelly. She is very fond of nature...and is dangerously fast. (9/29)

Kemuel: [none] a tank-size half-golem that is the General of the Celestial Empress's army. A humanoid figure that is made out of bulletproof emerald and has a featureless face. (Made on 3/15)

Charmeine: [27] a bard mermaid who's role is to be a distractor during combat. She has a green tail and green eyes. Her hair is a titanium-blonde with green highlights. She has a carefree and bubbly personality. (7/7)

Audra: [19] Angelisa's sister and healer-in-training. Dirty blonde hair and completely white eyes. She has light orange skin. (8/9)

Alya: [16] an half-orc warlock-in-training who helps Iris with taking care of the animals and garden. Dark blueish skin, dark and short-choppy black hair and dark green eyes. Shy and sweet. Student and adopted daughter of Mistral.

--------

The 10 layers of Descensus de Caelo (Heaven's Descent):

10. The throne room - where The Celestial Empress is most of the time, watching over the Guild.

9. Private Quarters - over a hundred bedrooms for the Guild members and staff, each one with luxurious pleasures and soundproof walls.

8. Showers, Salon and Spa - for the members and staff to bath and pamper themselves.

7. Dining area - a gigantic room that is used for guild meetings and feasting. Kitchen is in a separate room.

6. Training grounds/exercise rooms - where new soldiers and members come to train.

5. Hospital - where Angelisa and Audra work at, helping cure any wounds or illnesses.

4. Library - millions and millions of books that are under the protection of Dina.

3. Security offices - where most of the guards stay and work at.

2. Experiment labs - where most of the prisoners and corpses are at to be tested on. Mistral often stays here.

1. Torturing rooms - enemies that are captured are sent here.

0. Basement/storage area - most of the supplies are here

--------

Outside:

-fields of crops for harvesting, surrounded by a high stone wall.

-a small farm for breeding and killing animals for food.

-a large garden surrounds the "abandoned" temple.

-several small tables for having tea.

[parad0xm0th]

Gerry for the ask thing?

*i love my dead gay goth son plays in the distance*

Gerard (Gerry) Keay

Sexuality Headcanon: he’s pansexual because I say so and I love him

Gender Headcanon: he’s trans! Also because I say so and I love him, growing up with Bloody Mary was a bitch and he deserved better than two manipulative mother figures

A ship I have with said character: JonGerry as hell (once again, thank you @/gerrydelano) along with JonGerryMartin (I will say I found a JonGerryTim fic on AO3 that was VERY good) ALMOST FORGOT I think GerryOliver is VERY funny and VERY great GOTH OVERLOAD

A BROTP I have with said character: 👏please👏just 👏let 👏him👏have👏friends(@ Jonny Sims for not letting him interact with anyone)

A NOTP I have with said character: do not think Gerry/////Michael Shelly is great considering we got confo he worked with his dad (MiChAeL is a can of worms I’m not opening)

A random headcanon: the whole “badly done Hair” is completely on perpose, he thinks it’s a good distractor from the whole body burn and the eye tattoos (He’s right!) the rest of the goth look is just for aesthetic and he loves it

General Opinion over said character: immmmm love,,, himmsso ooo. Muc h WHY DID YOU TRAP HIM I N HELL LIVING BOOK

JONNY ILL COME FOR YOUR BONES LET HIM BE OK

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Ameridan

Chapter 52 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3! In which the crew finally find Ameridan. 😭

The chapter is long, ~8700 words, so this is just an excerpt. Read in full on AO3. 

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

Much later, at the deepest and quietest hour of the night, the Inquisition and Stone-Bear Hold launched their attack. 

It began with a distraction, as Harding had suggested. Earlier that night, her forces had staged a skirmish back at the shrine, and Svarah’s people had confirmed that a score of Hakkonite warriors had left the Tevinter fortress to join the faux-fight. Now, Fenris was waiting silently in the shadows of a craggy hill with Hawke, Cole, Varric, and a handful of Svarah’s best climbers. Blackwall, Bull, and Sera were with the other Avvar, ready to stage a secondary distraction at the fortress itself while Dorian and Svarah’s mages hid nearby to provide a magical ambush and protection for the distractors. 

Fenris trailed his thumb over the handle of the dagger he’d strapped to his thigh. He would be using primarily stealth combat tonight, a combination of Seheronese tactics and dirty tricks that Isabela had taught him back and Kirkwall. His greatsword was ready and waiting on his back, but if all went according to plan, he wouldn’t need to use it.

He breathed slowly as he waited. Then he heard a familiar battle cry. 

“Anaan!” Bull roared. A second later, Blackwall’s gusty battle cry followed, and then a third and much more animalistic roar: the sound of Storvacker joining in the fight. 

Fenris peered around the corner of the hill. Bull, Blackwall and Storvacker were charging toward the Hakkonites near the fortress gates. A moment later, a flame burst to life on the fortress battlements and drew the sentries’ attention, and the distinct thick smoke told Fenris that the flame was one of Sera’s pitch bombs. 

It was time. Fenris turned to Cole. “Go,” he whispered. 

Cole nodded, then disappeared. Seconds later, a dead body toppled off of the battlements. 

Fenris jerked his head at Svarah’s climbers, who pelted silently toward the outer barbican. He looked at Hawke and Varric. “Be careful,” he whispered. 

“You got it,” Varric replied, and Hawke shot him a wink and a smile. 

He gave her one last lingering look, then darted away after Svarah’s people. Another corpse toppled from the battlements thanks to Cole’s quick work, and a moment later, Fenris and the Avvar were scaling the brick wall with bare feet and fingers.

He tried not to think too hard about what he was doing; if he put too much thought into it, he would second-guess himself about the fact that it had been over ten years since he’d scaled a wall for battle. He’d practiced a couple of times tonight on the cliff at Stone-Bear Hold to make sure his body still knew the language of the climb, and he was surprised to find that his fingers and toes were still tough and strong enough to handle the task. 

When he was with the fog warriors, Fenris had scaled many walls and trees, using the advantage of height to survey qunari and Tevinter movements and to prey on them from a higher vantage point. After his escape from Danarius, Fenris had been forced to use these skills again, shimmying up drainpipes and clambering up the sides of houses in his desperate attempts to evade Danarius’s men as he’d fled through small towns on his way across Thedas. 

There was little about his current situation that was a relief. And yet there was something comforting about scaling this wall with comrades at his side. 

He felt the distinct warm tingle of Hawke’s barrier settling over him. From Fenris’s left, one of the Avvar called out to him softly. “Faster, Inquisitor! Don’t let Parve get there first, or he'll never shut his trap about it.” 

Fenris smiled, then began climbing faster. Despite his best efforts, Parve and two other Avvar beat him to the top of the outer barbican. The Avvar climbers grinned and playfully punched Fenris’s shoulder, then took off silently toward the ladder that led down to the ground. 

Fenris crouched down and peered over the battlements. If he looked hard, he could see Hawke was casting her attacks from her hiding spot; Varric wasn’t with her, having moved somewhere else for better range. Blood and bodies were sprinkled on the ground, but more of them were Hakkonites than Svarah’s men, and none of them were Fenris’s people. 

He exhaled slowly, then glanced at the empty battlements. “Cole,” he murmured. 

“I’m here,” Cole’s hidden form replied.

“Go to Hawke,” Fenris said. “When the doors open, bring her safely through.” 

“Yes,” Cole’s voice said. 

Fenris nodded in satisfaction, then slid down the ladder and slipped into the shadows again. Svarah’s people were gathered around the portcullis mechanism, trying to find a moment to open the gates while fighting off more Hakkonites that had come running from guard positions to the east and west. 

Fenris lit his skin to life, then slid through the threshold of the Fade. He snuck behind one of the distracted Hakkonites and slid his immaterial fist through the man’s chest from behind, then relaxed his lyrium marks.

The man choked as Fenris’s gauntleted fist filled his chest cavity, shoving bone and organs aside. Fenris dragged his hand free, then grabbed his daggers and stabbed another Hakkonite in the neck before hamstringing a third, leaving him vulnerable to Svarah’s men. In the space of a few breaths, the portcullis began to open with a momentous metallic groan.

Fenris watched and waited tensely as the portcullis rose. The keep itself was about a third of a kilometer away at the base of a hill, and more Hakkonites were flooding from the keep and coming their way. By the time the portcullis was fully raised, the Hakkonites were about ten seconds from falling upon them. 

Come on, come on, Fenris thought urgently. Svarah’s people had almost lifted the bars holding the gates in place, they were almost there… 

The Hakkonites were too close. Fenris lit his marks again and phased toward the oncoming Avvar, then appeared in the middle of the group with his fist inside of an archer’s chest. 

He sent a pulse of energy through his fist. The archer’s rib cage exploded in a shower of flesh and blood, and the Hakkonites howled in shock. Then the gates opened, and a group of Inquisition and Avvar fighters came roaring through. 

Fenris looked around wildly, then relaxed: Hawke was safely inside the gates with Cole at her side. She grinned at him, and he smiled back before phasing away to help with the battle.

Dorian was raising a wall of fire to funnel some Hakkonites toward a group of Svarah’s Avvar, but an assassin was attempting to sneak up on him. Fenris phased toward the assassin and stabbed him in the flank, then twice in the belly before kicking him down the hill.

“Fenris!” Dorian panted. He threw a fireball at another nearby Hakkonite and delicately wiped his brow. “Someone needs to explain to me how exactly that damned bear knows who to attack and who to leave alone. I just about shit my smallclothes every time it approaches me.”

“Perhaps it’s too repulsed by your clothing to attack you,” Fenris replied smoothly, then spun away and parried a Hakkonite’s sword strike with his daggers. He purposely dropped one dagger to grab the man’s swordhand and drag him close, then stabbed the man viciously three times in the chest before kicking him away. 

Dorian, meanwhile, shot Fenris an offended look as he continued to cast barriers and throw fire. “Was that comment intended to comfort me? Because it didn’t work. In fact–”

“You can berate me later,” Fenris said. He scooped up his dropped dagger, then phased away to join Cole as the spirit-boy silently picked off the Hakkonites on the fringes of the battle.  

They made their way down the winding path toward the inner keep, fighting Hakkonites along the way. But as they neared the doors to the keep, Fenris noticed something odd at certain points in the air: a faint sort of floating glow that reminded him of moonlight shimmering on snow. Except there was no snow in the air, just that faint glimmer…

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Then, fifteen paces away, a sound like cracking ice pierced his ears, and Sera yelped. “Bugger!”

Fenris whipped around, and his heart seized. Sera and Hawke were huddled together with a coating of ice underfoot. Hawke’s hand was raised as though she’d just cast a barrier, and Sera was shielding her face with one hand, while Hawke’s face…

Fenris’s stomach dropped. The left side of her face was a bloody mess.

Panicked, he phased toward them and cupped her intact cheek in his palm. Her left cheek and forehead looked as though a glass had exploded right beside her face. A moment later, Varric was beside them as well. 

“What the hell was that?” Varric demanded. 

“Some fucking Hakkonite ice shit,” Hawke spat. “Those floaty lights are like ice mines, they explode if you get too close.”

There was blood leaking into her eye. Fenris dragged in a breath. “Are you–”

“I’m fine,” she said roughly. She pointed with her staff to a Hakkonite mage who was standing close to the doors of the keep. “That mage there. He’s making more mines. Someone needs to–” 

“I’ll kill him,” Fenris snarled. He phased toward the mage and materialized directly in front of him. 

He sank his fist through the mage’s chest. The mage’s eyes widened with panic, then fluttered lifelessly when Fenris dragged the man’s heart from his chest.

The mage dropped to the ground, and Fenris dropped his heart and turned to Bull and Blackwall, who were fighting nearby. “Watch for those floating points of light,” he barked. “They’ll–”

“Already ahead of you, boss,” Bull yelled, and he turned toward Fenris for a moment. 

Fenris winced. Bull’s unarmoured left pec was a messy canvas of frostbite and bloody scratches.

“Don’t worry. I’m good,” Bull assured him, and he launched back into the fray.

Fenris ran back to Hawke, Sera and Varric. “Bull got struck by one of the mines as well,” he reported. “They seem to freeze as well as exploding.”

“Good thing I was able to block that much, at least,” Hawke grunted. She hovered her hand over her wounded face, and after a momentary glow of green, the wound was healed.

Fenris released a breath, but his chest was still jangling with nerves. The wound was gone, but the blood was still there, staining her skin and curving around her eye… 

“What’s wrong?” Hawke said. “Did I fuck up my healing? Aren’t I still pretty?” 

Varric snorted, and Fenris tried to smile. “You are beautiful, Hawke,” he said. “Now let us finish this fight.”

“Such a romantic soul,” Hawke sighed, and the four of them returned to fight, avoiding the ice mines as they did. 

A few minutes later, the Hakkonites were dead, and Svarah strode toward them with a war-axe in her hand. She nodded brusquely to Fenris. “I did not see their thane, Gurd Harofson,” she said. “He must be within the keep, guiding the ritual to free Hakkon.”

“Understood,” Fenris said. “How many Hakkonites do you think are in the keep?”

Svarah rubbed her chin, smearing some blood on it in the process. “A score went to the shrine, we killed about twoscore here… you’ll be looking at ten, maybe fifteen men within. I can send a few men in with you and yours, those who are still fresh after the fight.”

Fenris hesitated. He didn’t want to ask more from Svarah than he already had, but if she was offering, and there was strength in numbers… 

He met Hawke’s eye – her bloodied left eye – then turned back to Svarah. “I would appreciate that. Just a few men.”

Svarah nodded. “Some Avvar blood by your side is a boon in battle. I would gladly join you, but–”

Fenris held up a hand. “I understand. You must tend your wounded and prepare your dead for their sky burials.”

She gave him one of her rare smiles. “You understand much indeed, Fenris. May the Lady guide your fight.”

He nodded his thanks, and Svarah strode away, barking orders at her people as she did. 

Fenris turned to his companions. They were all marred by blood and dirt, but uninjured thanks to Hawke’s healing.

They’d made it. All of them, all seven of his companions – his friends – had made it to the Hakkonite keep alive. Already they were faring better than Ameridan and his unfortunate companions had done, and that somehow felt like a good sign. 

Fenris bowed his head to them. “Let us enter this keep and have done with this cursed task.”

Hawke smiled. “I’ll drink to that,” she said. 

“Me too,” Blackwall said. 

“Me three!” Sera chirped. 

The others nodded and murmured assent, and Fenris smiled at them – and at Svarah’s four Avvar fighters – before pulling open the doors of the keep.

Read the rest on AO3. 

[ancientwisdomsustainer]

Ancient Wisdoms’ Grounding Forces: Jñāna mārga

Using the Yogic Paths During Times of Unsettlement

Each of you, I’m sure is witnessing how fear is a daily reality right now as this in-the-face unknown looms across the globe. I suspect this unknown is also being magnified, at least in the US, by a cultural norm of focusing on the physical body. If you are uncertain what I mean by this just scroll your Instagram feed for twenty to thirty seconds; there are likely to be multiple examples of this somatic-based mentality. The modern Yoga scene tends to amplify this hyper awareness, with a greater focus on haṭha and the physical practices associated with the term Yoga. So much so that many folks, in this modern culture, associate the term Yoga only with āsana (the physical postures). I am sure, none of this is new news to many of you reading this post. We honor birth and youth as we run in fear from illness and death. We as a culture are truly challenged by the continually spinning wheel of saṁsāra, birth and death.

In this series of writings, I offer you three historical Yogic approaches to facing uncertainty and life as an embodied being. Each path (mārga) – Jñāna, Rāja and Bhakti (hyperlinks offered for further investigation) offer a different perspective in the practice of self-study, svādyāya and the aim of Yoga’s true purpose to yoke (yuj) or unite with the divineness within and without.

We begin with Jñāna, the path of wisdom and knowledge. This Yogic lens encourages truth seeking. Who am I? What am I experiencing as I live in this body? Swami Sivananda, world renown Yoga philosopher and teacher, encourages us to identify the Truth (as he named it) by understanding it as changing phenomena. “Everything, all matter in the universe, is constantly changing, that is the only Truth there is. The baby is born and we say he or she is already one day old – not one day young.” Here his words connect to how our words come from a basis of future-based fear.  “Fear comes from avidyā (ignorance),” he underlines.

In Jñāna Yoga we investigate and reflect on what is the Truth, what is really lasting. “Is it the body?,” Swami Sivananda asks. “No. It is just a beautiful instrument,” he reminds us. He points us to notice where avidyāattempts to rule our understandings of what life in this body is and means. Personally, I faced this stark realization at a very young age when doctors gave me a fifty percent chance of survival from a life-threatening illness. My “beautiful instrument” brought me to an immediate and obvious first thought, without it (the body) there is no life, a deep quick reality check for a twenty-year-old. During the endless months of chemotherapy and radiation I unsuspectingly embarked into the inner world of self. It was scary and quite disorienting. Though I had grown up with a faith in Divineness I battled often to understand it more, to have true faith in the Truth. As my flesh suit’s, one my teacher’s description of the physical body, insides burned with chemicals and the skin turned a charred black I was convinced all my chances for a “fulfilling” life in a continued career as a model was completely nixed. My ego fought hard as I accumulated scars from procedure after procedure left me marked forever; and as strand by clump of hair fell in the shower, into the sink when I would brush it, and caught in my clothing as I put them on (the prior years I had been a hair model) the only dream I had ever envisioned for myself was diminishing rapidly.

Gratefully, one day as I rummaged through the dusty bookshelves of a used bookstore a series of texts about sages living in a mountainous setting was discovered. Reading this series of books, Life and Teachings of the Masters of the Far East, became my daily sādhanā (practice). A profound inner evolution was set into motion which I continue to pursue still, over thirty years later. I came to discover, through reading the texts, how the turning of every moment comes with temptations and desire, kāma, keeping a constant motion toward a perceived fulfillment. Working, making money and buying things coo us into feeling a temporary fulfillment of these desires. When these desires are interrupted or unfulfilled the ego rears up causing a range of expressions and actions, fighting on behalf of the kāma. Some folks are crushed by these pursuits. Their thoughts turn to words like failure, others ignore the under-stirrings completely by numbing the senses - taking tablets, drinking alcohol, doing drugs, eating disagreeable foods or sleeping too much. Another may blame parents or the world in general so feelings within can be discounted.

The teachings of the ancient sages offers another choice, to surrender to wisdom, as the experience of fear attempts to overwhelm. In Yoga, as a complete life practice, one does not only invest in the body; there is also an investment in the mind. Avidyā is a real disrupter and distractor. The ego can hide behind fear, behind arrogance, behind being “the best.” It wants the power to control everything and it manifests in different ways. Fear often expresses as a very deep-rooted saṃskāra, an impression that often becomes habitual in both positive and challenging ways. I have learned from the ancient saints, sages and many teachers it is habits of the ego facing us when fear surfaces. It took me that year of deep physical pain to realize how I associated losing this body, the beautiful instrument with losing my whole identity.

When we face the egoic aspects of self an opportunity to transcend is presented. Svādyāya, self-study, coupled with openness to the teachings of others is the Yogic mārga, Jñāna. If one has many fears, this may be a signal of a strong identification with ego and body/mind. If one chooses to investigate a saṁskāra, habitual habit, space is generated for an expansion into self-understanding. The mind makes mental modifications, cracking and making space for new conditions to exist within the mind. It is then a matter of what one fills those cracks with, such as inspiring texts, meditative contemplation or devotional practices.

The mind is where I began my Yogic path decades ago. I quickly learned, while fighting the egoic attachments fueled by a deep mind-set and societal influences, I am not just this “beautiful instrument” of flesh and bone. It has been a tough lesson for someone who banked twenty-ish years of life on her looks. Over time Yogic philosophy and daily sādhanā has also firmly taught me I am also not just a mind. The mind is also a changing phenomena, hovering around the soul, Ātman or Self – that center point which never changes. It is this aspect of the Yogic journey we will consider in the next post on the mārga of Rāja.

If you are curious about generating a Jñāna inspired practice here are a few suggestions for readings:

The Inner Tradition of Yoga by Michael Stone

Letters from the Yoga Masters by Marion Mugs McConnell

Polishing The Mirror: How to Live From Your Spiritual Heart by Ram Dass

Falling into Grace: Insights on the End of Suffering by Adyashanti

ૐLauraLynn

[hisvanity]

writober day 9: blood.

he is frozen in a scream.

the sound that escapes milotic’s throat sings like something not of this earth as she rears her magnificent head back and collapses onto the ground. the zeraora’s slash drew shining blood all the way down her serpentine body, her outer jugular a spurting mess of gore, her inner jugular nestled just below two of the gaping wounds. somewhere at some time, the referee blows the whistle. but it’s not here. not where he is. when trapped in a panic, you’re not in the world anymore, you’re locked only in your mind--in one part of your mind, locked away, and fear holds the key.

she can bleed out. she can die.

he bursts onto the field. each step feels as though he’s running through sand. was she really born when he was for this? did she spend every day of his 29 years by his side for this? to not even have the honor of dying for those she loves, to be struck down by some nameless brute who took this friendly match too far? his heart pounds so fast, it nearly stops. he calls for her. she does not respond.

he sprints there before the medics do. he rips the mystic water necklace from his neck--a childhood gift from his older sister--and smashes the pendant on the ground. from it pours a mystic water that he dribbles over the jugular wound, tears mingling with the healing salve. out of the corner of his eye he notices the medics coming toward them. on the other side of the field, his opponent does nothing.

“please,” he whispers. “come back to me. PLEASE--”

her eyes snap awake. she lets out another cry and begins to thrash, sending wallace tumbling to his feet. his throat seizes up--maybe she’s in her death throes--no, things can’t end like this, no, NO--

then the blood begins to move. it surrounds her in a protective circle, a red aqua ring shining bright. the water flows over her, wrapping around her like a ribbon, closing her wounds. the crowd cheers--she lives! she revives!

she looks down at wallace and the medical team assembled before her. though the medics don’t understand her, her message is clear: <leave me. i will fight to the end.>

“what is it?” he asks. he can understand her through the bond phenomenon that they both share. “what’s going on?”

<i…aqua ring…it’s never happened like this before,> she stammers. <i feel--stronger. faster. i can fight this! i can win!>

“are you sure?”

<never surer.>

he grins. 

“Now, Milotic!”

the air grows cold. the blood swirls around her in two opposing circles, getting faster even as the temperature drops. a row of ice crystals circles at the opponent obliquely from the left, impromptu castles of frigid spines springing from the earth. zeraora tenses as the crystals approach. snarling, they leap to the right, only to be slammed by a burning scald-ice beam, steam flowing off the blue glow of the ice as the move barrels into him at full strength. the initial ice beam was but a distractor, a clever trap designed to make zeraora’s movements predictable; it dodged to the right, just as milotic had planned. the feline yowls as the move slams into its chest with a crack! that rings throughout the stadium. the blood rings circling milotic have given her the strength to break the bones of myth.

“ngh--!” the other trainer balls a fist. “you can’t let wallace get away with that! light the stage with the thunder of legend! CLOSE COMBAT CHARGE!”

the zeraora lets out a shriek, a felinized sound of sparks flying against metal. he clutches his chest for a moment and strings of electricity crackle around him--he pushes through, getting on all fours and launching himself across the field. milotic opens her mouth in preparation, a brilliant orb of water surrounded by the swirls of a gathering gale. the crimson close combat and the vermillion wild charge swirl into a crackling tempest that reaches the sky. the ground cracks underneath his feet until he leaves it entirely, a red-yellow maelstrom of might, a bloodstained blood knight ready to break claws, fists, arms just to land his final hit--

hydro pump and twister slam into him, shattering his outstretched fists. his own momentum turns against him, inertia breaking him down to the bone. both of milotic’s moves come from her mouth--she spits out a storm. zeraora hurtles back to his trainer, his fainted body bowling him over and sending the two skidding across the field. the medics once sent after mliotic’s dire injury now sprint toward the one who had wounded her.

wallace folds his arms. today she has triumphed--over all and over death.