#like im not claiming to have severe disease i just want this thing to be removed . it takes like 30 seconds .

[batz]

i really think that some doctors need to be mauled by wild animals what do you MEAN didnt believe theres glands under your tongue!!! how many millions of years ago did he go to medical school!!! im so mad for you right now

i think some doctors just get like disillusioned or whatever but its NO excuse for them to not know that there are salivary glands under the tongue or other very normal things to know. and then be v rude and dismissive about very normal concerns. but maybe the doctor did know what was going on and just wanted me out of the clinic asap.

but also ive had to point out like rlly normal anatomical things to doctors lately im wondering if walk in clinics are just hiring randos off indeed at this point LMAO

[loving-n0t-heyting]

If it’s not too personal, can I ask about your experience with antipsychotics and why they didn’t work for you? And general opinions? I was considering them really hard but I’m very wary and don’t want to take something that isn’t like. Worth stopping hallucinations. I guess.

Definitely. Somewhat tmi at parts, below the readmore

So i should say upfront that I am not psychotic and was not prescribed antipsychotics for psychosis, and the medications on reflection achieved basically nothing for me beyond their “side” effects; so I can’t speak directly to the comparative badness of hallucinations and antipsychotics (though there are many, many psychotic ppl you can easily find who will attest the cure is worse than the disease, and I have promised myself on the basis of my own experiences not to seek out medication even in the event I start undergoing serious hallucinations—it’s just that bad ime). This is the sort of thing that happens in psychiatry bc the entire discipline is half-submerged in the equivalent of bloodletting and humours-balancing

My own experience is principally with “extrapyramidal” symptoms: akathisia, dystonia, and a weird symptom I have not found attested in the literature that tended to co-occur with dystonia where I would desperately seek out circles in my field of vision. Akathisia was the worst of these (followed by the circle lust and then dystonia—tho they were all torture), and it went away after 6wk on lurasidone, but would start up again from 0 if I dropped the meds for more than a few days and then picked them back up. I experienced a brief respite from suicidality when I started the drug, which at the time I chalked up to efficacy, but looking back was more plausibly just akathisia painfully draining so much of my attention to itself I could not even contemplate suicide. Propranolol helped mitigate it, but only partially. You can find a lot of claims on the internet to the effect that akathisia is torture (the wiki article even includes citations for the claim it was used as such against political dissidents in the USSR), and they are right

The other two were also quite awful, developed only some time into my taking them, usually occurred together by the end, and persisted until I quit the drugs altogether; I am told from a nurse that inducing dystonia over the course of years is known to cause permanent neurological disability, which I was lucky to escape. My particular brand was “oculogyric crises” every 2-3 nights lasting ~5-7h, in which my eyes would roll painfully far back into my head virtually uncontrollably, taking a Herculean effort to move at all, at which time I would suffer from horrifying intrusive thoughts and lose my ability to speak clearly and without needless repetition. I could go into great detail about the circle lust, too, but suffice it to say it was miserable and incapacitating to the point that unlocking my phone became a struggle (too distracted by the circles in the numbers on the keypad to focus on entering the passcode)

At some points the drugs I used to treat these symptoms were almost as bad as the side effects themselves. Cogentin was the only one to really stop the dystonia, and even at a low dose it caused urinary retention that forced me to go to the ER to get a catheter installed so I could walk around for the next several days with a tube connecting my bladder thru my urethra to a bag of piss strapped to my leg. After that, I had to start relying on increasingly large doses of Benadryl to achieve a lower level of dystonia suppression; I did not reach the point of the drug’s notoriously bad trips, but I was running the risk

I was lucky enough to avoid the cognitive blunting also known to commonly affect antipsychotics druggies but that was dumb luck on my part, and they sound both nightmarish and fiendishly self-obscuring. Check out robnost’s category tag in the link

In conclusion, I would strongly urge you to seriously question whether the hallucinations are bad enough to be worth it, especially in light of the drugs’ tenuous levels of long term effectiveness . I think categorical denunciations of drugs are generally most likely to shut down thought one way or the other, but this comes as close as anything could for me I think. I would urge particular caution getting them prescribed by a professional embedded in a system capable of forcing compliance if at some point you abandon compliance of your own accord: involuntary confinement and drugging are very much realities for the psychotic and otherwise seriously mentally ill

Good luck, whatever path you decide on. I’m sorry the hallucinations are giving you trouble

[nicegaai]

I used to not care about Sweden ships that much but then my third eye was opened to his shipping potential and I now love every Nordic ship with him.

SuFin - need I say anything? Iconic. Next.

DenSu - Enemies to friends to rivals to friends again to fuck buddies to lovers

SuNor - surprisingly sexy. Ship that's able to simultaneously bring out the best and worst in both of them.

SuIce - why just give him Ice a big brother kink? Give him a daddy kink TOO

All this to ask, any headcanons for SuNor specifically or for Swe ships in general?

HELLO my dear my beloved my angel of the askbox. i love this journey youve been on, you are completely correct in everything and ur suice take made me scream out loud btw <3 i want my babybabyboy 2 have a daddy kink so bad <3

YES OFC 🫡 SYNTHESIZING MY MINDS VERSION OF MRSWEDEN INTO SM COHERENT FOR YOU POSTHASTE

(edit: this was not very posthaste of me.................... enjoy anyway if u are still out there... i love you...)

hard agree that sunor is So Hot. im obsessed w them as a concept. like. you dont even know

first of all sunor has the norice problem where ppl want to assign them Platonic Sibling energy but then u look at them and its like why is there clearly sexual tension here...... i suspect its norways fault for havign that sexy voice disease where everything he says comes off flirty. and sweden is -- 🧠💥 wait wait wait wait wait

its coming together. sweden spent a lot of his life as a closeted gay man and was very uptight about it (source: look at him), claiming to humans that nations dont do sex and that he is a good asexual boy with no impure thoughts and other times pretending to have interest in women to fit in, depending.

but norway is shamelessly himself in every era—at least in comparison to sve... he wont pretend to be something hes not. and he wouldnt hesitate to fuck a strange man for fun, even in times where getting caught would severely damage his reputation. sweden even in modern day would not do one night stands. or you know. never say never, but hes LEANING never. norway is leaning Always.

what im saying is. sve would be so jealous that nor is living his best life and doesnt feel shame, even in an era(s) where he really should. and i think due to a series of cinematically coincidental outside circumstances (my brain is writing a fanfic without me rn) (edit: i have since forgotten the fanfic), they would start butting heads about it, not in the same way su and den fight... theyre passive aggressively sniping at each other. sve wants him to represent himself better, and nor is like i can literally do what i want forever.

from the outside it looks like a brotherly disagreement over differing life choices, but its 100% sexual tension fueled. nor is like lmao why are you mad? are you jealous? and would come onto him to freak him out and sve would be like STOP this is WRONG but he wants it so bad and they both know it. he hates nor because hes hot and fucking everyone but him and the one thing he can't do is admit he wants him. ...all norway has to do to win is keep teasing him until he breaks, but it would take several years. not decades, bc even if the flirting is infrequent sweden is not strong enough for this treatment.

... in general, i think they have different views of sex. to me norway has a high sex drive, lower than average standards, and doesn't feel shame as acutely as he does and sweden cant stand it. that's my sunor headcanon. they fuck anyway ofc but in modern day sve has made nor get std tested at least once. but could they be exclusively together like a monogamous ship? .............. i could be convinced.

OTHER SU SHIPS, QUICK FIRE ROUND

sufin - need we say more? i want to anyway... i love them married with kids i love them divorced i love them in a 500 year unlabeled situationship i love them one-sided and i dont really prefer one dynamic over another tbh. actually wait i do have a hot take. i think finland deserves to top sometimes. FinSu nation rise up <3

densu - what can i even add to this... they should look like the happiest couple on the surface but be crazy & toxic behind closed doors. theyre perfectly normal guys when separated but when left alone together they scare me. this is a good thing to me btw

suice - jsgdk gjk s klga liwi egi j tjil 2 t. g 8aw9e gae0jo d ;gawj dp2gjawodgijl aij e 0g;eglj aw irgl ajoweg lahrigawi egji awlji dg d i need to write them together more i could get so insane ab these two & i have a scene planned for my longfic where they fuck like crazy and i think ab it once a week. suice is so cute. theyre so cute. AHH

[qumiiiquinnquin]

i intentionally hide my symptoms of mental illness around you

do you know why

its because i know you will hurt me again if i ever show them again

its because i know you will go back to being physical with me when i frustrate you too much. you'll grab my hands and force them together in a tight grip or you'll slam them against a surface. and you'll raise your voice or yell at me. and you'll think that's the only way that you can snap me out of it. to you there's just no other way to appropriately handle it

its because i know you will once again tell me force-feeding myself is one of the ways i can recover. and you threatened to do it to me once

its because i know you will forcefully drag me out of my hiding place again. you picked me up and carried me out of there. and you proceeded to yell at me. you ignored me saying I wanted to be alone. it looked like you were quickly glancing around the room for something to hit me with. i no longer have a safe space. i force myself to keep from crying around you, and when alone i try to do it as silently as possible

its because i know you will become aggressive towards me again. making annoyed sounds around me, purposefully within earshot, each time you pass me while im having a depressive episode. throwing things at me instead of handing it to me. doing things for me because you think im purposefully refusing to do it myself. sternly saying my name, very quickly escalating to the point of yelling at me if i dont respond the first time. avoiding me and refusing to talk to me or talk to anyone about me

its because i know you will tell me how terrible im being to everyone. telling me im treating people like a disease. telling me im the reason why this family is falling apart. telling me everyone's behavior towards me is justified

its because i know you refuse to believe that i am mentally ill. you think that, and have told me that, im using mental illness as an excuse. you think that im really fine, but purposefully acting the way i am. you purposely change the subject when i talk about my anxieties and depression and my psychiatry appointments. one day, when i had a mental breakdown and was tired of your bullshit and finally snapped at you, you separated yourself from me and refused to talk to me. i apologized and tried to explain, but you refused to listen

you keep claiming you're here for me. but then you dont want to listen to me. you change the subject. you completely ignore me. you get easily frustrated at me and eventually tell me to get over it. that its not that serious. that im overreacting about little things. that i "always do this"

you demand me to tell you whats wrong. but i know you'll treat it like its nothing serious. that its my problem and my problem alone, and i formulated something stupid in my head to the point of overreacting. and ive told you what's bothered me before. you told me "you need to get over it"

you keep saying you always feel bad whenever you "have to" raise your voice or yell at me or become physical with me. yet it keeps happening every time i display symptoms or have an episode

ive had to explain to you so many times. and each time i hope you'll stop treating me like this. the psychiatrist even told you about my attempt. yet this still goes on. and you refused to listen each time

why were you not like this back when i first displayed symptoms of severe depression? you even stopped me from thinking about committing and running away. you brought in your plush and let me cry on it. im still living for you. and for everyone.

but you're making me want to give up.

[starlighthan]

UNEXPECTED VISITS !

characters: ot8 stray kids, several original characters

genre: the umbrella academy au, sci-fi, fluff (this is more on some good ol brotherly love), a tiny bit comedy and drama

warnings: mentions of vanishment, politics-related topics (corruption and elections), few curse words

word count: 3.7k words

synopsis: let's get this straight to the point, the jeon brothers from the spade academy have to reunite after more than a decade to solve and discuss about their beloved father's disappearance. things were... messy, which was unexpected from the pride of the city of haven.

note: hi, this is officially my first work here! this is inspired by the umbrella academy because i love the series SO MUCH and thought of skz in this type of setting! since this is inspired by tua, there’d be some similarities from the show to this fic (like the handler’s existence, the kids have powers, etc.) so i hope that’d be cool... been thinking of making this an au series of some sort after a while. pls do send me some feedback too <33 not really good at writing but im willing to improve ofc! if any of you guys liked this, feel free to tell me if you want more from this concept! would love to write more on this and form some cool plots here and there. this au is kind of quick-paced, btw! so this was kind of shorter than i was expecting lmao

© starlighthan - all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim the plot as yours.

*i do not own the umbrella academy comics/series.*

"Hey! Where are the others?"

"They aren't here yet, Hyunjin."

The smooth voice came from Piri, the talking smart cat, who's slowly walking towards him in the hallway entrance.

The man gasped and brought the cat to his arms, "Piri! It's so good to see you, I missed you so much! How are you?"

Hyunjin's very genuine with his words. It has been almost a solid decade since the Spade Academy dispersed. The astonishing actor-scriptwriter was one of the last who left the 4 corners of the mansion.

"Never been this good for almost 10 years. It's great that you finally visited, Number 4. These halls missed you a lot."

He observed the hallway. These walls of the academy reminded Hyunjin a lot of his time when he was training day and night when he was young. The brown faded wallpapers reminded him of coffee, very bittersweet. It also reminded him how these walls are often replaced due to damage while training. He still remembers how Minho almost burned these walls and the wallpapers flew due to Changbin's speed.

Piri mirrors Hyunjin's head movements, "It has been a while, isn't it? You used to write in your diary down here."

Ah, the diary. That notebook where he records every single discovery and achievement he made while training. The pages were filled with his thoughts on his progress on shapeshifting, a portion about his father, endless ink wasted to mention his seven brothers' antics and performance during missions, and his experiences when he traveled in time.

The diary must have been somewhere in his room. He badly wanted to read and reminisce the moments he had when he was young. But all he did was bring himself to his childhood through a vortex. He didn't have time to visit the academy because of film shooting and multiple meetings.

Hyunjin scratches the cat's head. "I missed that diary. I used to update Dad's times of randomly leaving the house. Guess I should record another one later. I heard the news."

"Bet you heard the news through some reporter who interviewed you?" a voice came out from the door.

Hyunjin snickers and brings down Piri, "It's great to see you, Seungmin. Glad to know you still use your abilities. Was Father rushed to the hospital or something? Just in case he disappeared because of an emergency, you know?"

Seungmin pats Hyunjin's back and walks towards the enormous living room. "No, I would have predicted it, but it seems like Father really left. That man's so old but so immune to diseases, so I think that wouldn't happen."

Hyunjin brought out a hm and followed him.

"So, what do you think on how Father disappeared?"

Seungmin looked back at him and shrugged, "I don't know, which is kind of weird. It seems like there's something that's blocking my mind to know the info how Father got out of here."

Having the power that would help the most in this problem seemed to be unhelpful after all. Having that block in his mind to gather information probably meant that it's not that easy to know about their father's whereabouts and intentions. This has been the first time in so many years to feel that block in this head.

"This problem must be bigger than it seems, then?" The fourth child sat on the couch and opens the television.

Seungmin sits beside him, "Correct, all that I know is that we must dig deeper about Father vanishing."

All they need to do is to find clues before discovering Jeon Wonshik's plan on why he did all of this. Hopefully, the rest of their brothers would arrive and cooperate well.

When Piri was brought down by Hyunjin, he visited the library in the basement, where he found Chan reading a newspaper.

"Hello, Piri. Seems like you were the only one who noticed that I have arrived."

The cat smiled, "It's good to have you back, Number 1. Might've used the secret passageway to get here, hm?"

The man brought down the newspaper, "Yup, I think could do it now since nobody's going to scold me for using the secret passageway."

The passageway was such a great escape from reality for Chan, it's his road to escape all the pressure and suffering he experienced during his teenage years. The secret passageway either brings you to the basement's library, or a little room for hideout. This can be seen by opening the last tile at the side of their home, by the garden.

The cat jumped on the table where Chan was sitting next to, "Question though, Number 1. What do you feel about your father's disappearance?"

The question made Chan look at the cat sharply. He wasn't sure on how to answer the question. He's actually a little emotionless over it, a little numb. Father brought him and his younger brothers to endless missions that often end with a minor problem. Wounds here, injuries there, no rest at all. He always saw the problems, but he never had the guts to bring it up to anybody.

"You know, Piri, the news wasn't that surprising. Something in me was saying that this was meant to happen and maybe some of us would be okay with it." He sighed and stood to get a book from one of the wide bookshelves. "We had it rough with Dad, he always says that he's making us do these things for us to save the world, but earth isn't supposed to be peaceful all the time, right?"

He heard the cat sigh, "Look at all of us. None of us are the superheroes we once were when we were kids."

The cat looks back at Chan and walks away from him. "Chan, I do get your point. But I do hope you find the purpose why you and the kids were given these abilities. I think you would get that sooner or later." The eldest gave Piri a questioning look, not understanding what the cat last said.

A ghost showed up in front of Chan. The man groaned and brought back his newspaper right in front of his face, "I haven't summoned you yet. Why are you here?"

"You should go for a search for your father, you know? You can fly and stuff! Take a view of Haven and check some signs and tracks!" Chan isn't having anything of it right now. He just visited the Spade Academy because it's been a while since he saw his younger brothers.

"I am not going to do that, Ryu! If Father really disappeared, then let him be! I don't want to involve myself into some bullshit search. He's way too smart to reside somewhere and never be seen by anybody."

The ghost crossed her arms and muttered, "I cannot believe this man is so stubborn, he already went here and all and not willing to find his own dad."

"Ryu, I heard that! And I, or any of my brothers, are not his biological sons!"

At the top floor of the mansion was their mother and Jeongin. Jeongin's been the only one who stayed in the academy. Throughout the years, the boy did was to take care of his parents, and Piri. It was quite lonesome, too quiet for his liking. The rooms were used to be occupied by his brothers who never attempted to shut up unless their mother or father asks them to.

"Mom, were you able to see dad before he disappeared?" He held his mother's hand, concerned on how his brothers would react to the news. Pretty sure they know Jeongin was the only one who stayed.

Their mother smiled and placed her other hand on top of Jeongin's hands, smoothly caressing to ease the youngest's nervousness. "Yes, I did. Little did I know that he left. He didn't greet me in the morning, too."

Jeongin's frustrations got worse. He wasn't able to see his father before he disappeared in thin air. And now his own mother seems to be unfazed over the problem.

The man's thin gloves made his hands a little sweaty. He can't take if off no matter how he wants to feel his mother's soft skin. He doesn't want to have his mother dead in one touch, he's still weak in controlling whether to kill or heal.

All he hopes is that everything would go back to normal, Dad would come home, and the media would stop asking for interviews outside.

A strong wind was felt within the house. The short feel of coldness wasn't that foreign among the family members. It was a signal that a certain member arrived and might have sped past somewhere.

Jisung, who stood outside of the mansion, never felt the cold. He's immune to any climate anyways.

"Hey, Changbin! You ran too much!"

The speedy one heard the loud voice and stopped a few blocks from home and searched where in the world did that voice came from.

He saw Jisung wave meters away from his spot and decided to jog towards his brother.

Changbin exhaled. "Sorry about that, I still get lost around here."

"Are you serious, Changbin? You literally grew up here." Jisung scowled. He always thought how Changbin is careless with wherever he's going. Probably because he speeds out randomly every time.

Sure, Changbin unintentionally pisses people off. It's kind of weird since he could literally control people's minds but he knew he wouldn't do that to his family. No matter how he was treated in the household, he would never do anything wrong to them.

Jisung sighed, "Might I add, you are currently the congressman and will be running for senator next month. Geography's a must in politics too, Changbin. Please, for the love of-"

"Yes, yes! I know what I'm doing!" He answers.

The man with a not-so-intimidating aura because of his soft cheeks raised his eyebrow, "Are you sure you know what you're doing? I literally saw you rob money at the bank!"

Eyes wide open. Changbin didn't know about that.

He pulled Jisung towards the door and brought themselves in to the mansion. "How in the world did you know?"

Jisung smirked, "Well, I was having my lovely walk as I usually do every night. Of course, I saw you walk away from the bank with a mysterious bag. I have night vision, Changbin!"

Changbin huffed, absolutely devastated that he was caught doing one of the biggest crimes he has ever done to date aside from corruption.

"Do you think you're not caught by wearing black, sprinting, in the middle of the night?"

Jisung didn't receive any answer. He chuckled, "I'm keeping this in between the both of us. If you were caught by a different way. Don't blame me, alright?"

Changbin spaced out, not even looking at Jisung. Until now, he was tightly gripping at the doorknob after entering the academy. Knuckles white, leaned towards the door.

He felt a burning sensation on the doorknob, he yelped and scurried away from the door. Rubbing his burnt hands and Jisung looking closely at the door, a person was revealed as the entrance slowly widened.

"Oh, sorry about that." Minho sniggered.

Changbin sighed, "Of course, it's you. Should've known."

Minho chuckled, "What did you expect from me? I could've melted the knob, that'd be worse for you."

Changbin was unusually quiet once again, walking out. Jisung and Minho were left in the hallway.

Jisung grinned, "Just Changbin being moody. You literally gave him a burn; he'd be down and sad like he does every time he gets hurt."

Minho elbowed Jisung, who responded with a loud ouch, "Damn, you're so mean! Don't be so rough to your sensitive brother! He just came from a conference about our rich, eloquent, and strange father vanishing."

Jisung was surprised, opening his mouth wide like a big letter O, "Oh? He did?"

The second child nodded, "It was live on television, I was watching while frying some French fries in the diner. It was very sudden, so Changbin seemed to be very lost during the conference."

"Well, seems like he's really out of the mood today. Let's just start the meeting and finish this mystery of Dad getting invisible or something, who knows?" Jisung said while grabbing Minho's arm to pull him to the living room.

Jeongin stood at the corner of the living room, looking if the whole family's complete. Counting them one by one, he was able to count seven of them. "Seems like we're complete now."

"Eight supposedly, Felix is still on the loose?" Chan looked around, then slouch on the couch beside Hyunjin.

Changbin tilted his head, "He will never come back, Chan. It has been more than 10 years. 10 years, Chan."

Minho cocked his head to Changbin's direction, "Let the man hope, everything is possible."

"Besides, Seungmin knows Felix is out there. He'll show up when he feels like doing it. Right, Seungmin?" He then looked towards Seungmin, who shrugged as response.

"Seriously?" Minho scowled, "Well, at least we know Felix is somewhere here on Earth. He's still alive."

"Yeah, right. He's obviously an immortal, Minho," Hyunjin pointed out.

Chan sighed, "You guys, he hated the fact that he's an immortal. Let's stop it until there, please."

Felix often opens up to Chan when he was still training in the academy. Chan understood Felix so much that he was so protective until the point he couldn't let Felix go. Felix left more than 10 years ago, it was unknown where he went but it was obvious to Chan and his brothers why he escaped the hellhole called the Spade Academy.

Felix never liked the idea that he was immortal, he'd rather be a normal being than have this ability to stay throughout so many eras and evolutions of this world. If he had any ability, he would pick anything but be an immortal.

"Whatever you say, bro. Let's get onto why we're here," Jisung smiled.

Minho immediately groaned, "I just came here to see you guys, not for Dad!"

"Aw, that's so sweet of you. But we're here to find Dad." Seungmin smiled sarcastically to Minho, who rolled his eyes.

"Uh, is it more like know why Dad is missing first? Finding Dad might take a long time before knowing why he vanished." Jeongin stifled a laugh.

Seungmin playfully stick his tongue out, "Okay, smarty-pants! How are we going to know why Dad went missing?"

"We will never know, maybe Father already knows what he has done to us and leave us for good- okay, okay, Hyunjin! He wouldn't do that!" Chan said while Hyunjin hits his arm.

Jisung grinned, "Thanks, Hyunjin. Should Chan try summoning Dad's ghost? Just in case Dad's dead?"

Chan's eyes widened, "Who said I should summon Father's soul? I would summon any ghost but not Father's!"

Changbin sighed, crossing his arms. "This isn't going to end well."

"It would end well if we are serious, guys. Nobody's going to investigate about this but us. The city's gonna talk about us because we're the only ones who are directly related to Father," Minho emphasized, leaning forward to get his cup of tea on the coffee table.

Seungmin eyed Changbin, "Exactly. We don't want Changbin to withdraw for elections because of a mystery that we'll never get to solve, right?"

"Your corrupt ass should really withdraw though, honestly," Hyunjin grimaced.

Changbin suddenly stands up, in defense. Minho and Jisung hold his arms tightly in case of physical fights. "Huh, do you think you can say that because you're a handsome, international actor?"

Jeongin groans, "Can we just stop it? Let's not make Changbin a victim in all of these 'teasing' for now."

"Yeah, right! Stop it! I literally ran here from the House of Representatives for you guys, gosh. Give me a break!" Changbin shakes arms away from Minho and Jisung, slowly sits down back to the couch.

This is the norm of the Jeon brothers. They never changed. The boys used to be serious in conversations but also take it lightly. They do know each other after all. They know what pricks the other.

Silence fell among the seven. The air is filled with comfort, and a little bit of awkwardness. Kind of lost in where and how to start this dilemma they're dealing with. It is all surprising, anyways. They badly need some deep thinking for this.

They often struggled when it terms to Wonshik. Whether that's a dinner with him, some serious discussion with him in his office, and the usual training they do every day. Some of them weren't okay with him, some of them were, but the never ending weight they deal with with their Dad is sometimes uncomfortable. It felt like carrying a big safe every day, and you'll be able to bring it down and open it to discover your worth at the end of the day.

They were just teenagers, still learning about their abilities, clueless about life, and unsure about their future. Wonshik's intentions for the kids to be prepared for the worst is there, but it was all too much for the seven.

Chan was the one who broke the silence, "Jeongin, have you seen Father before he left?"

The youngest gulped, "No, but Mom did. I was staying somewhere else in the last few days."

"Mom saw dad before he vanished? Wasn't she able to stop Dad?" Hyunjin glanced at Jeongin. Seungmin was scratching his head out of desperation, trying to get more answers from this and connect his mind.

"Jeongin was going to say that Mom seemed to be very clueless that she didn't know that Dad's not coming back." Everybody looked at Seungmin.

Minho stood up, went on his way to open the long curtains near them. "How many days has it been since Father left?"

Chan gently grabbed his glass water, drinking it quickly. "The thing is that nobody knows. See, even Mother didn't know when Father left. Everybody knew when he was reported missing."

"Huh? That's so weird, though." Jisung wondered, leaning back to the couch.

A faint trace of irritation appeared on Changbin's face, "That's nuts. Who the fuck would report that Father's missing if nobody knows how long he's been missing already?

"This must be some supernatural or magical shit that's happening, it's kind of scary," an uneasy laugh came from Jisung.

Jeongin unconsciously said something out loud while tugging the drawstrings of his jacket, "Do you guys think that Father set this all up?"

Hyunjin hummed, "That's possible."

"It could be, but isn't Father that type who'll never let anybody know about his personal agendas?"

Jisung answered Chan's question, "Yeah, that old man literally keeps secrets from us, even Mom and Piri!"

Groaning, Minho suggested, "The best thing we could do now is do something to know about his disappearance. We'll need those traces and signs from Father. He does leave a sign to us for a lot of things before."

There was a quick silence once again before Chan shared his part, "I'm not gonna summon Father's soul, but I might fly around Haven to find some traces. Maybe he left something for us somewhere."

He then sees Ryu at the corner of the room, sticking her tongue. Chan teased her by doing the same. "Told you so. You needed it," the ghost mouthed.

Changbin hummed, "Great idea. I'll join you, I might find nothing if all I do is speed up."

"I could threaten some people who have relations with Father for some information. Should I give it a try?" Minho asked.

Jeongin beamed, "Yes! That might be crazy but burn them alive if they keep any secrets from us, yeah? I would accompany you in case you... you accidentally fire up somebody, you know?" He scratched his head.

"Hey, Jisung! I'm inviting you to accompany me to travel back in time! Gonna stalk Father when he used to go out of the academy randomly. Heard he went to the snowy mountains or something before," Hyunjin pointed at Jisung to get his attention.

Jisung nodded, "That'd be cool! Haven't touched snow in a while."

He then cluelessly looked at Seungmin, "How about you?"

Seungmin blinked a few times before he uttered a response, "Seems like you guys are going in pairs, might as well do this alone. I have to work out on how to remove this invisible block in my head that hinders me from knowing all about this."

The brothers nodded, Seungmin's issue seems to be resolved by him only. He often depends to himself anyways with internal conflicts, and the boys trust him on that.

"This is settled, then. We'll start soon, right?" Chan stood from his seat, the others followed.

Jisung nodded energetically, "Yup! Now that we're actually doing some adventure, this seems to be exciting! Let's go!"

"This was quicker than I expected, very miraculous," Seungmin giggled.

The jumpy and lively boy went for a zoom to the door, which made the rest laugh over his weirdness. Jisung was always the one who lightens the mood of the family if it was needed. And every time he tries, it works very well.

The boys let Jisung go for a headstart, following him when he reached the end of the hallway entrance.

Laughs were filled in the hallway until Jisung muttered an uh-oh.

Changbin raised an eyebrow when Jisung stiffened, "Hey, what's with you? What's going on?"

Jisung turned his back to face his brothers, showing them the opened letter that he found in front of the mansion's door.

"Uh, hey bros! Heh, I feel like we're gonna make things worse."

Chan walked towards Jisung to gently get the paper from him and read the letter out loud.

“The Spade Academy,

All you have is a week before you get to know your father's whereabouts. Mass destruction will come if you are unable to complete the task. 

A lot would be affected by your progress at the end of the 7th day, including a beloved family member of yours.

Hoping this short notice would help.

Sincerely,

Shin Youngja

Handler, The Commission”

[uncloseted]

my mom believes in homeopathy and i don't know what to do. our town homeopath died not so long ago so she won't be recommending him to people anymore, but she still believes in the system. apparently he cured my brother's hyperthyroidism and my nephew's alopecia. she says that he went to tons of real doctors and the only thing that worked was homeopathy. that left me speechless. im still skeptical but how do you explain that? and if it's a placebo but it works, then why shouldn't we use it?

This answer is going to be a long one, so I apologize in advance. Apologies also for how long this has taken for me to write and publish. As always, I want to make sure that I answer every part of this question with thought, care, and sources. To make it easier to navigate, I'm going to add headers for each section. What are Homeopathic "Remedies"? The first thing I want to do is clarify what homeopathic "remedies" actually are and what the theory behind homeopathy is. Often, I think we imagine that homeopathy is just herbalism- using "natural" plants as "medicine". By itself, doing that is kind of a dubious approach to treating illness, but it can be at least somewhat effective. It's important to understand that that's not what homeopathy is. Homeopathy is an alternative "medicine" practice created in 1796 by Samuel Hahnemann as a reaction to the mainstream medicine of the late 18th century. Hahnemann's homeopathy is based on the doctrine that "like cures like"- that a disease can be cured by a substance that produces similar symptoms to that disease in healthy people. In order to prevent those symptoms from occurring as a result of the "remedy", homeopathy also subscribes to something called the “law of minimum dose”—the notion that the lower the dose of the medication, the greater its effectiveness. This is inconsistent with what science knows about dose-response relationships, where the effect of a dose is reliant on the concentration of the active ingredient. Many homeopathic products are so diluted that no molecules of the original active ingredient remain. Modern advocates of homeopathy have suggested that water "remembers" the substances mixed in it, and transmits the effect of those substances when it's consumed. This isn't consistent with our scientific understanding of matter. Homeopathy also traditionally includes the concept of "miasms" as the "infectious principle" behind illnesses (including illnesses like epilepsy, cancer, deafness, and cataracts). Miasms are a negative force (imagined to be kind of like a cloud or fog) that serve no purpose other than to make humans miserable and ultimately kill them. Traditionally, homeopaths believe that individual symptoms should not be alleviated, since it will only drive the miasm deeper and the miasm will "manifest itself as diseases of the internal organs". They believe that in order to cure illness, the miasm must be removed from the "vital force". The concept of miasms have become less popular in modern times, but there are still homeopaths who base their practice around it. It's important to know that none of these ideas are backed by the scientific method, nor have they been shown to be effective when subjected to the scientific method. That said, you can kind of see concepts in homeopathy that are 18th century explanations for phenomena that are real. For example, "like cures like" and "law of minimum dose" is actually kind of how vaccines work: you give a very small bit ("a minimum dose") of a disease-causing microorganism or an agent that resembles a disease-causing microorganism ("like cures like"), which trains the body's immune system to recognize that agent as a threat. Another example is airborne infectious diseases. It is possible to get certain illnesses (such as COVID-19, measles, chickenpox, the flu, and norovirus) if you encounter a "miasm" (what we now call droplets of an airborne infectious disease). The problem with homeopathy is that it's not the 18th century anymore. Science has moved on from using "like cures like" and "miasms" as explanations for illness. We know that "like cures like" is not an effective treatment for every illness, and we know that not all illnesses are "miasms" (airborne). We have a better grasp of things like genetics, viruses, infections, and environmental factors that allow us to more effectively understand what causes illnesses and how to provide effective, reliable treatments for those illnesses. What's the Harm? Problems with Homeopathic "Remedies" Moving on, I want to start with

your last question first. If homeopathic "remedies" are a placebo and they work, why shouldn't we use them? What's the harm? There are three main problems with using homeopathic "remedies" that I want to discuss. The first and most important answer is just that they don't work. I'll do a deeper dive on the evidence against homeopathic "remedies" and why homeopathic "remedies" don't work in a second, but for now, just know that the first problem is that homeopathy can't fix the health problems people are looking to solve. The placebo effect is pretty limited in its scope; it generally works for subjective, patient-reported outcomes such as pain and nausea, but it doesn't usually affect the actual disease. For example, when the placebo effect is used to treat insomnia, patients perceive that they've slept better, but it doesn't actually improve the amount of time it takes a person to fall asleep. The second problem is that homeopathic "remedies" aren't always harmless. While they're generally "unlikely to provoke severe adverse reactions", there have been cases of those "remedies" being taken off of the market because they've caused serious symptoms such as seizures. In the US, homeopathic "remedies" aren't overseen by the FDA in the same what that medications are. As a result, there's no assurance that the substance you think you're getting is what you're actually getting. Frequently, "remedies" are a waste of money because they don't have enough of the active ingredient to work at all. This is especially true if the product you're getting is a "dilution", which intentionally gets rid of the molecules of the original material as a result of the "law of minimum dose", but it can even be true of things like nutritional supplements that you can buy at CVS or Walmart. In the US, there's no group tasked with objectively testing the claims made by companies that sell "remedies", and there's no group making sure that "remedies" don't have ingredients in them that are unsafe. Belladonna, arsenic, and poison ivy have been found at detectable levels in homeopathic "remedies", and cases of arsenic poisoning in particular have occurred. But because homeopathic products are marketed as if they're "drugs", many people assume they wouldn't be allowed to be sold if they weren't good, if they didn't work, or if they were advertising falsely, and so they keep buying them. If you see an individual homeopath, this problem is compounded. "Homeopath" is not a protected term in the US, meaning that anyone can claim to be one. In turn, this means that there's no licensing board that oversees their work, no professional association or government agency that keeps them accountable for their mistakes, and no educational credentials that they need to begin practicing. Your local homeopath may have no background in biology, medicine, chemistry, pharmacology, or even homeopathic or alternative medicine practices. They can literally just be a person, one who you're trusting to cure your ailments and to not accidentally poison you in the process. The last issue I want to bring up is that homeopathy is often (although not always) viewed as being an acceptable replacement for evidence-backed medicine. This means that often, people who see a homeopath aren't seeing a medical doctor, and their symptoms aren't being treated by evidence-based medicine. By not taking an evidence-based approach to intervening in illness, outcomes are significantly worsened, especially for serious, life-threatening conditions such as cancer. Patients have died as a result of opting to take a homeopathic approach to illness instead of receiving proper treatment for diseases that could have been easily managed by evidence-backed medicine. This becomes an even bigger problem when it comes to public health issues. People who view homeopathy as being equal to or better than evidence-backed medicine are more likely to be anti-vaxxers and to not vaccinate their children. Reductions in vaccination rates have led to resurgences of diseases that had previously

been close to elimination. The US has seen a resurgence of whooping cough, measles, and tetanus as a result of anti-vax sentiment. Those resurgences directly endanger people who cannot be vaccinated due to chronic health issues, people with allergies to ingredients in vaccines, and people who cannot choose to be vaccinated, such as children. How Effective Are Homeopathic "Remedies"? Next, let's talk about studies that look into the efficacy of homeopathic "remedies". Government level reviews of homeopathic "remedies" have been conducted by the UK, Australia, and the European Academies' Science Advisory Council. The UK's study found that there was "no compelling evidence of effect". Australia conducted a meta-analysis of 1800 papers, and found that "there were no health conditions for which there was reliable evidence that homeopathy was effective." EASAC found that there was a lack of evidence that homeopathic products are effective, and raised concerns about quality control. Additionally, there have been systemic reviews and meta-analyses of the efficacy of homeopathic "remedies" from doctors, universities, and medical researchers. In 2005, The Lancet (one of the world's oldest, best-known, and respected medical journals) published a meta-analysis looking at the efficacy of homeopathy. Basically, that means that they looked at data from 110 homeopathy trials. These trials were included in the study because they had a completely randomized set of patients who don't know whether they were getting a "homeopathic treatment" or a placebo pill. This type of "blinded" study allows researchers to see how effective the intervention (in this case, a homeopathic "treatment") actually is. Their findings were, "compatible with the notion that the clinical effects of homeopathy are placebo effects". Meta-analyses have also been conducted on the application of homeopathy for individual diseases, including cancer, ADHD, asthma, insomnia, fibromyalgia, dementia, IBS, osteoarthritis, migraines, ecchymosis and edema, and dermatological conditions, and all have found the same result. The UK's NHS, the American Medical Association, the Federation of American Societies for Experimental Biology, the National Health Service and Medical Research Council of Australia, the World Health Organization, the American College of Medical Toxicology, the American Academy of Clinical Toxicology, the Russian Academy of Sciences, and even the acting deputy director of the National Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine have all come out against the use of homeopathy, saying that there's "no good quality evidence that homeopathy is effective as treatment for any health condition", recommending that no one use homeopathic "treatments" for disease or as a preventative health measure, and noting that there is evidence that using these treatments can produce harm and indirect health risks. But it Seems Like it Works! What Else Could Have Happened? In terms of what happened with your brother's hyperthyroidism and your nephew's alopecia, I'm perfectly happy to admit that I have no idea. I don't know what the homeopath gave them or what else they were taking or what else they were doing during that period of time that might have changed their health status. I can offer you some hypotheses (and I will in a second), but I don't know, and that's okay. What I do know about is the current state of research on homeopathic "remedies" overall, and how it holds up when subjected to the scientific method. There are a few common culprits for why homeopathy may seem to work. I'm going to go over those now, and then I'll dig into some theories for what may have happened with your brother and nephew. These culprits include:

Placebo effect- we talked about this one earlier, but essentially, if people believe that a "treatment" will work, they're also more likely to believe the "treatment" worked after taking it. As a result, they will report feeling better on subjective measures such as pain.

Natural healing- with time, the body can sometimes heal itself without medical assistance. This is most common for things like viruses.

Therapeutic effect of consultation- care, concern, and reassurance from a compassionate caregiver can have a positive impact on the patient's assessment of their well-being, even if objective assessments of their well-being stay the same.

Regression towards the mean- many conditions and diseases are cyclical. The patient may notice a decrease in symptoms that they attribute to homeopathic "remedies", but are actually just a result of moving to a different stage of the disease cycle.

Cessation of unpleasant treatment- a homeopath may suggest that patients stop receiving medical treatment. Medical treatments can sometimes have unpleasant side effects, and so halting those treatments can make the patient feel better in the short term. The patient attributes the decrease in symptoms to the homeopathic "remedy" but it's actually that they stopped taking a medication that has side effects. In the short term, this feels good, but in the long term it is destructive because the disease isn't being treated.

Non-homeopathic treatment- the patient is also receiving medical care, and the medical care is responsible for the decrease in symptoms, not the homeopathic "remedy".

Unrecognized treatments- an unrelated food, exercise, environmental agent, treatment for a different ailment, etc. is also treating the patient's medical condition and is responsible for the decrease in symptoms.

For alopecia areata (hair loss in patches on the scalp), spontaneous remission is actually more common than you might expect. In most cases that begin with a small number of patches of hair loss, hair grows back after a few months to a year. It's possible that your nephew's hair just... grew back, especially if time had passed. It's also possible your nephew's parents were treating his alopecia other ways (minoxidil, contact immunotherapy, corticosteroids, a gluten free diet if the alopecia was associated with celiac disease) and just didn't tell you or your mum. Hyperthyroidism is a bit more difficult to guess at. It could be that your brother's medical doctors switched him to a different medication that did work or changed his dosage. If you're sure that's not it, it could be that he switched his diet to one that's low iodine and low in caffeine. Research suggests that, although a low iodine diet cannot cure hyperthyroidism, it can reduce or alleviate the symptoms in some people. If your brother went vegetarian, vegan, or stopped eating fish, that could be the culprit. If he stopped taking a multivitamin that contains iodine, that could be it. If he started eating a ton of foods high in goitrogens (soy, cassava, cabbage, cauliflower), that could also contribute to what happened, since goitrogens interfere with the uptake of iodine in the thyroid. It's also possible he was misdiagnosed, but if it's true that he went to "tons of real doctors", that seems fairly unlikely. Again, all of these are just guesses for the purpose of illustrating what confounding factors may have been present. I think the bottom line with stories like these are that you're hearing them secondhand. You don't know how many doctors your nephew or brother saw, or the quality of those doctors, or what they diagnosed, or what they prescribed, or how many different lifestyle changes they tried. You don't know what the homeopath prescribed them, or if they took it. You're hearing a story of miracles through the mouth of a believer, and that can make it difficult to know what is and isn't true (in a medically accurate kind of way). It's possible that your mum's homeopath has stumbled upon a treatment for alopecia and one for hyperthyroidism that work better than traditional medicine. I hope that's true. We can always use better treatments, especially for difficult-to-cure conditions like alopecia. But I think it's more likely that there's just some piece of information you weren't given. What do I do? Getting to your original question, there's not a ton of evidence-backed research (that I could find, at least) for how to change people's minds about homeopathy, but there is data on changing people's minds with regard to vaccines, and I think using those tactics may work in both cases. What to do about your mum's beliefs in homeopathy depend on where those beliefs come from, how entrenched they are, and how it's impacting her life. If she's just someone who tries lifestyle changes and supplements from CVS first before going to a doctor and if she believes in vaccination, homeopathy is a waste of time and money, but it's probably not too big of a problem. In that case, it may not be worth pushing her about it, especially if she hasn't found a new homeopath after her old one passed away. If she's anti-vax and/or refuses to see medical doctors, that's a bigger problem, and it's worth having a conversation about. Changing her views is likely to take time, so be prepared to have at least a few conversations about these topics. And be prepared to step away from the conversation and resume it at a later time if it becomes too contentious. Start by asking her about her fears with regard to evidence-backed medicine. Do your best to be curious rather than judgmental in those conversations and to be a good listener. Respect is the most important tool in changing a person's mind, so try not to interrupt, be dismissive, or combat her beliefs off the bat. Affirm her right to have questions (but not the validity of the actual concern), and

try to say positive things about her in the conversation (for example, "I can see you really want to do everything you can to keep yourself healthy and safe"). Focus on her feelings, not facts. By trying to understand where she's coming from, you can begin to understand where her hesitations are and how those fears might be remedied. For example, a lot of people who believe in homeopathy do so in part because they feel like homeopathic practitioners listen to them, respect them, and care about them more than medical doctors do. They've usually had a bad experience with medical doctors. Knowing where her fears lie gives you a better idea of what she needs in a medical context, and can help you figure out how to dispel misconceptions she has about medicine or find alternatives that actually work. In the case of feeling like medical doctors don't respect her, you may be able to help your mum find a medical doctor who will spend longer with her and really listen to what she has to say. You can try asking her follow-up questions that allow her to investigate her own beliefs. For example, you might try asking about Hahnemann's ideas of "like cures like", "the law of minimum dose" or "water memory" and see how she reacts. Many people, even those who use homeopathic "remedies", don't know the principles that it's based on, and will eventually express skepticism when asked to explain them. It's tempting to try and combat pseudoscience with facts, but studies suggest that presenting facts makes people more likely to cling to their original beliefs. It's better to let people investigate their beliefs on their own through asking the right questions. You might also try this technique. Ask her how likely she would be to see a medical doctor/get a vaccine, on a scale of 0-10. If she says 1 or 0, this strategy isn't going to work. But if she says 2 or 3, then you can ask her why she's not a 0. Why is she not fully saying she won't see a medical doctor or get a vaccine? This forces her to explain what she thinks the positives of medical doctors/vaccinations are. Now you're on the same side; you both think there are some positives to the medical profession. Reinforce those ideas when you talk to her. From there, you can ask what would make her more likely to see a medical doctor/get a vaccine, and when she answers, you can point to the places where those things exist in the medical field. If nothing else works, you could try finding ways to make evidence-based medicine and vaccination compatible with her beliefs. Perhaps you could try using the language of homeopathy to explain medical issues and their treatments. For example, with COVID, it might work to tell her that COVID is a miasm, and that researchers used "like cures like" and the “law of minimum dose” to create a vaccine to remove the miasm from the "vital force". All of that is technically true, at least in a sense. It's just not the language scientists would use to describe what happens. To Sum It Up The medical establishment definitely has issues it needs to work on. The lack of compassionate, respectful care in many medical settings is a real problem, and it has real consequences. There are some situations in which a placebo is a potentially valid approach to treatment. But the answer is not to encourage homeopathy. It's to do more research, develop better drugs, and change the ways that doctors interact with their patients. Homeopathy doesn't work, and it does potentially have harmful side effects, both on a personal and societal level. The way we can combat homeopathy is to be curious and respectful, to help people identify and work through their concerns, and to offer them solutions to their medical problems that take those concerns into account.

[serararku]

A Modest Proposal

Back straight. Eyes down. Book open.

Mizuna spent the first half of her shift a hair's breadth away from the overnight beds. K'vyna was able to eat solid food despite her broken ribs and collarbone, but Mizuna didn't want her moving around until she was absolutely certain her bones were healing correctly, especially with that shattered leg; otherwise it would be up to her to break them again to start the healing process anew. Dawn could sit up and hold a conversation at least, yet getting used to her two foreign eyes will certainly be a challenge, especially with one of them with the signature Auri limbal ring. That cerulean eye staring back at her was unsettling. Mizuna felt like two strangers were looking at her when Dawn met her gaze, but she would never tell her that; she’s been through enough, and adding to her insecurities would help no one. Nijah always stayed longer than the allotted time for visits, but Mizuna always let it slide- Dawn needed someone to talk to. Speaking of which, even Osric himself checked in to pay her a visit once. With luck they could close the rift between them sooner than later.

While K’vyna was broken physically, Dawn was broken emotionally. It pained Mizuna to see them both in such shattered states… yet they remained better off than Conobharo.

The Lalafell had his arm severed right across the ball-socket joint, and it was not with him when he arrived to the clinic. The  blood loss made him lethargic for the first few days, but after enough rest he could talk and move around on his own- at least until he was struck with phantom pain in his missing limb. With just a pinch of nightshade essence and a tonze of gloomroot, Mizuna had Conobharo's head swimming in anesthetics and bedridden until the agony would pass. Worse still, he was still struggling to accept the fact that he was now handicapped, and it was taking its toll on him, both physically and psychologically. She was convinced he could kiss the mercenary life behind; how could he survive out there with only one hand? Surely he couldn't swing that heavy sword now. Perhaps he could find fulfillment in helping around the clinic? Khair and Mizuna could certainly use the help, plus his sense of humor would always be a welcome diversion.

She kept a monitor on their vitals with her so she could rush to their aid at a moment's notice, even during her smoke breaks; dark circles sagged from her eyes while she read, unwilling to rest until her shift was over. Dawn, K'vyna and Conobharo were all counting on her for a safe and swift recovery… yet some would recover sooner than others. And one may never truly recover at all.

Boom!

There it was again, easily the queerest thunder she had ever heard. There were no windows in the main lobby of the clinic so looking to see the storm clouds herself required more effort than tilting her head. The weather report made no mention of a shower, but Thanalan was infamous for its sudden storms; she was almost ready to return to her book and continue reading Life as an Amputee: A Beginner’s Course before she was rudely interrupted again. Boom! “That does it.” She muttered to herself, rising to her feet. The magitek device keeping tabs on their vitals was wireless and mobile at least, allowing Mizuna to pluck it off the table and carry it with her- and carry it she did, all the way straight to the front door.

She was greeted with the blazing glare of the Thanalan midafternoon sun: no rain, clouds, or thunder. K’thalen appeared next once her eyes began to adjust, his back turned and smoke rising from the barrel of his rifle. He stood alone in the center of the courtyard, or so she first thought; S’era appeared atop the arch over the entrance to the estate with her katana drawn. “What’s going on out here?”

“Ah- heya Doc.” K’thalen turned an ear toward the woman but kept his gaze focused on S’era. “Gigglefits over yonder claimed Hadriel is the greatest swordsman in the world. So I tell’r; what good is all that skill when a drunkard with a clear shot can kill ‘im? So she says he can deflect bullets. I told her there ain’t no way he can move that fast, and even if he could, he can’t parry a barrage, yeah? So now she claims anyone with enough practice can deflect a bullet, so…” He raised his rifle and fired. BOOM! Mizuna flinched at how loud his boomstick bellowed. She glanced up frantically to see S’era wave her sword in the air, then stomp her feet and curse under her breath. “See? If I was aimin’ center mass n’not over your shoulder you’d be dead, darlin’!”

“I just need a few more bells of practice!” She insisted, preparing herself for another attempt. “Do it again!”

"This is incredibly dangerous, reckless, and irresponsible." Mizuna scowled, feeling that dreadful sound ringing in her hollow horns. "You both should stop before someone reports suspicious gunfire in the Goblet."

K'thalen couldn't argue with that; he was already on their watch list for public intoxication and disturbing the peace. "Aye, she'll never be able to deflect 'em anyroad. Come on down, Era, before you fall off n'break your ankle. Goddess knows the Doc's gotter hands full already." A groan slipped from the Samurai before she hopped down, still certain such a feat could be possible. Mizuna, content with handling this situation swiftly, checked the vitals one last time before she turned on her heel to flee this muggy heat.

She didn’t make it ten paces before S’era came trotting in behind her. “Oh Doctor Kusakari? Can I ask you something? I know this probably isn’t a good time, but I need a huge favor…”

Mizuna glanced down at the vitals again before giving the woman a warm yet faint smile. “What’s the matter?” Just as she finished speaking, K’thalen came strolling in as well, with one hand holding his rifle upright, and the other clasped around his old flask.

How could she tell her? How could she convince this woman- who on all accounts was practically a stranger- to risk her life to help people she couldn’t possibly be invested in. Risking her own life in Mor Dhona with friends willingly volunteering to help was one thing, but now she was older, fairly wiser, and far less willing to act on emotions alone. It was a big request, but it was better for Mizuna or Khair to come along than Dawn, especially in her state.

“S’era?” Mizuna repeated, snapping her out of her daze. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah… I… well you see…”

“Is this a medical question?” The Raen woman asked, glancing over at K’thalen who was busy chugging more liquor. “Should we go somewhere private to talk?”

“No, it’s not a personal-...” S’era began wringing her hands before she took in a deep breath and stood up straight. “My tribe… the Zu Tribe, needs help. I need a medical professional and I don’t know Dr. Himaa at all, so…”

At last K’thalen made a noise as he coughed and choked on his drink. “Guh-...! Huck…! What?! You wanna bring her to your tribe, S’era?! Have you gone mad?!”

“The Zu Tribe is infamous for killing anyone who enters their lands.” Mizuna calmly explained what K’thalen was alluding to. “I would love to help your people, but I don’t want to be strung up and flayed. I just don’t see how I could even get close enough to help them.”

“My Nunh has agreed to let outsiders in… on my watch.” S’era explained, ignoring his remarks. “Please, Dr. Kusakari… our kittens have some sort of disease that-”

Mizuna didn’t even flinch. “I’ll do it.”

“Huh?!” Both S’era and K’thalen exclaimed at the same time, before looking at each other.

“I’ve only seen a handful of Miqo’te children in my travels, and none that were younger than nine or ten. This is an opportunity of a lifetime.” Mizuna glanced down to check the vitals again- still safe, still stable. “If you can guarantee my safety then I’ll gladly help. And if Miqo’te kittens are as adorable as they claim… then I won’t soon regret this.”

“The mention of kittens was all she needed to change her mind?” S’era thought to herself, nodding confidently at Mizuna. “This is all going better than I originally planned!”

---

Mentions: @dawn-aethwyn @nijah-wolff-xiv @osric-slater-ffxiv @conobharo-cobharo-xiv​ @hadriel-ffxiv​

[alwaysabeautifullife]

i know you've probably had enough about Dental Discourse but im still reeling over the idea that brushing your teeth, a preventative measure, can... reverse tooth decay?? apparently?? so we can all forget about trying to make dental care more accessible and just hand out free toothbrushes??

The sad part was people claiming that diet doesn’t decay your teeth which...is literally what decays teeth Lmaooo. Like for 15 mins after you take a sip of anything but water, your teeth are being destroyed for that 15 mins. This is why dentists constantly warn parents to not give their children anything but water after they are done nursing/bottle feeding.

In my mind I was thinking about situations that people cannot control, as well. Like for an example when buggy was born, for some reason her top front teeth came in and I watched myself the enamel of her teeth come of like a hard candy shell. It happened within about two weeks of her getting each tooth in. She was in absolute agony, and her teeth immediately started to decay. This was when she was about 2. I went to several dentists and they explained she had a genetic disorder, one similar to the disease you can get that makes your bones brittle. He suggested as soon as the other two top tooth come in, to get them pulled. The bad news is, while the insurance covered part of the procedure, it did not cover any of the anesthesia, we had to come up with 7 thousand dollars or our daughter would suffer in agony with 4 teeth all sensitive enough she cried constantly. The other tooth popped out pretty quickly, we were able to come up with the money, we paid it in cash to the anesthesiologist, and she had her teeth pulled in surgery and had caps put on some of her top molars. The dentist does not believe it will affect her adult teeth.

I just...remember Portia crying in pain because of it for that last month waiting for the little baby tooth to come in so we can pull it. I can’t imagine if we would have been in a place we couldn’t pay the 7 thousand dollars. My baby would have to suffer. And we even struggled then, because only my husband worked. Most of their arguments were “poor people can fully control their situation”.

And in my experience, no one does. No one controls medical conditions, deaths, disabilities, etc. My dad didn’t control the fact he was fired because the company told him he was a “liability” after he broke his neck, fully recovered but had some minor hand paralization, my daddy Allen didn’t control the fact that although he was a wealthy buisness man, he would die when I was 7, and my mother, brother, and me would be shoved out like we were piles of trash. I remember Christmas that year, my mom bought me and my brother play dough, glitter play dough, for Christmas, and she spent all day making jewelry and things with us. She used to call powdered evaporated milk “magic milk” because all you need to do is add water and poof! Milk!!

People in poverty are not stupid, drug addicts, who abuse their families and don’t know how to budget. They are smart. They know how to cook for a family on 3 dollars a meal. They know how to keep their feet warm and dry in cold temperatures with out boots (you put plastic bags over your socks before you put your foot in the shoe), they are resilient, and they are good, and they are hardworking. All of them. Most importantly, they are people, and I just want other people to look at them as people.

[orcinus-ocean]

Until recently, concern about Bulldog health has focused mainly on the their breathing problems. But other health problems in the breed are well-documented. Now, a new study from Finland confirms that Bulldogs suffer from serious orthopaedic disorders - including an abnormal gait, slipping kneecaps, spinal malformations, elbow dysplasia and severe hip dysplasia. The study, of 24 ostensibly-healthy young Bulldogs registered with the Finnish Kennel Club, found the prevalence of orthopaedic disease, particularly hip dysplasia, so high in the breed that "no healthy individuals exist".   All but one of the dogs had moderate or severe hip dysplasia.  Three-quarters had at least one malformed vertebra. Thirty-three percent had luxating patellas and almost half of the dogs in the study had elbow dysplasia. The orthopaedic abnormalities are linked to kennel club  breed standards which ask for a large head, a broad and heavy front end and lighter, narrow hips, all of which result in extra stresses on the dog's skeleton. 

This reminds me of a post I read, years ago, by a bulldog breeder in Sweden, who was simultaneously sad and proud that they had “bred the ONLY English bulldog in Sweden with clear hips”.

So. Breathing issues, impaired thermoregulation, impaired eating and handling objects, face wrinkles that collect bacteria and fungus, an impaired skeleton from flat nose to corkscrew tail, a chest too heavy and hips too narrow to mate or give birth naturally, an inability to run, play or swim like normal dogs... maybe that’s what happens when you take this animal...

...and genetically squash, alter and cut off pieces until it becomes this animal:

You’ll notice, if you spend some time in the topic of exaggerated breeding of dogs, that bulldog, pug and other brachy owners, are the only pet owners you’ll ever meet, who regularly feel the need to prove their dogs are “functional”... and 9 times out of 10, it’s just a picture of a pug jumping over a log, or a bulldog trotting for a few meters.

And that’s their display of how their dogs are “just like any other”. It’s really sad.

Very good comment on the post:

“One of the most worrying points of our study actually was, that the owners of the dogs we studied, did not feel that their dogs were sick or poorly, which is alarming"

Which is precisely why I do not believe it when a bulldog fanatic tries to convince me the breed is ok, that they don't need to change, that it is entirely possible to have dogs with that phenotype that are completely healthy and functional.

I get a lot of slack when an owner tells me their dogs extreme underbite 'causes no issues', or their closed nostrils allow the dog to 'breathe just fine', or that their dogs 'cool off like any other dog' and I question that. Im told 'I know my dog better than you' or 'you're not in the breed' or 'you're not a vet'.

Well.....this isn't the first study we've seen, I believe, that suggests the owners of these dogs are often oblivious to the struggles their dogs endure, and that people who were sure they had healthy examples actually didn't. Excuse me if I continue to call bullshit on claims from owners and breeders of these dogs that 'they're fine'. The evidence we have suggests they can't be trusted in their perceptions.

So with the knowledge we have that these dogs suffer not only unacceptable levels of breathing abnormalities, that *all* of them suffer dental and thermoregulation difficulties as an inevitable side effect of having no muzzle, that damn near all of them have messed up hips, at least half have messed up elbows, the majority in at least one study had a spinal abnormality, and a good chunk had luxating patellas, *and* that most owners fail to identify the dog's struggles, *and* that not enough healthy individuals exist to fix these issues via selection and testing alone, *and* that most if not all of these problems exist because of *aesthetics*.......why the hell are people still breeding these dogs? Why is this still being normalised?

How much more evidence is needed that things must change? I really don't know what it is going to take for breeders to finally say 'well, this breed is basically screwed, and more dogs suffer than don't, and we can't fix it without changing the phenotype'. I really don't understand how much worse it needs to get or what its going to take for these people to put aside their aesthetic preference for the welfare of the dogs they're meant to love.

Because its *all for looks*. All of it. All these poor dogs hardships in life are caused because the narcissistic desires of the humans who breed and buy them can only love them if they look as far removed from a canine as possible.

I just don't get why we entertain this minority of people who insist on breeding animals like this for their own benefit - and they are a minority in the overall human population - and haven't outright said 'enough is enough'. If I wanted to breed horses with pancake flat faces for no other reason than I thought it looked awesome, even when I knew it would bring that animal unavoidable health and welfare issues, no-one would support me in that, everyone would think I'd gone nuts, or was the worst human being alive to even propose such a thing. But because these dogs have 'been around a while', its suddenly fine?

I don't guess I'll ever get it. The only hope for these dogs is legislation. Even if a few bulldog breeders are doing the right thing and breeding away from malocclusions, flat faces, and testing the hell out of their dogs (and I do accept that not all bulldog breeders are created equal)  it is, like in my breed, not enough of them to make any real difference to the breed overall. The changes needed are way bigger than that comparatively tiny handful of people can achieve, especially as most of them are shunned by the purists and their dogs called 'mutts'. The only way this breed has a hope is for people to take the breeding decisions out of the hands of the people who think all the above issues are an acceptable price to pay for an aesthetic they like.

[svpervixen]

I’m sorry this shit is happening to you. It hurts my heart to see.

I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out if anyone he associated with, someone he left scorn, or someone just trying to troll him 24/7 for the past 10 years has been behind all the harassment that I, you, and the others have received. His life has been chaos from the start so it’s difficult to keep track of everything; every possible “enemy”, every anonymous message, every text from text now, etc. I wish I could give you answers, I wish I could stop it. All I’ve been able to figure out without doubt thus far is that the only constant in all of this bullshit is him, and that he has pulled several sneaky tricks on others, as well as crafted some pretty huge lies that he had no issue doing whatever it took to make those he claims to love and respect believe them. I’ve seen it myself when I was with him, and literally every single other ex of his who agreed to talk with me, or reached out to me last year, have described painfully similar things. Im not saying he trashed your car, I’m just, thinking what you are, to an extent, I’m sure; someone involved in relationship drama was behind it. Right? As long as he’s in your life, drama will follow you. Whether or not he’s directly behind any specific random act, it doesn’t matter; drama will follow, and will end up effecting you much more than it will effect him. As long as he’s not owning up to how he’s spent the last 10 years of his life, as long as he still calls me crazy and a liar, as long as he’s still shifting blame, he’s not changing. And in the face of all this harassment, what steps is he taking to protect you? He’s not. He fucking aired out sexually explicit, harassing messages directed towards you to his followers, empowering the person who sent them, for what? To have a handful of randos DM him for pity and an ego boost? Ok. He’s not ready for a relationship, and you’re not ready for him, or all of his baggage. That’s not suggesting anything about you; no one is ready for him.

I know you’ve been conditioned to believe my merit is shit and that I’m an awful person, but if there’s one thing I could wish for in this situation (perhaps besides him finally taking accountability or you getting away from him), it would be that you would hear me. It wasn’t just me. I’m just the only one still talking about it publicly. I’m not doing this for fun. I’d much rather focus on my art, my family, and societal issues right now, but my conscious won’t let me walk away. Not because I’m bitter, not because I want to see him “go down”, but because I’m scared for you. A frightening amount of people keep telling me to walk away and let you learn on your own, but what fucking cost to you would that be??? I developed grey hairs, a year-and-a-half long addiction to alcohol, and Crohn’s disease because of the level of stress and trauma I endured by his hands, and through his influence. I almost killed myself because of him, and when I finally got away, so much internal damage had been done that I almost died from the lack of oxygen in my blood. Trust me, I’m not doing this for fun. I won’t go away because I’m terrified of anything like this happening to you. Every survivor I’ve talked to is terrified for you.

With that being said, should you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I’m not your enemy here. I’m not trying to do anything besides arm you with the facts that I was deliberately deprived of by him, while I naively chose to believe in his chessboard of a life over my gut. I know I’ve acted bitchy before and I’m sorry for that, it’s just... this shit drives me up the wall, the way he continues to manipulate people and demonize his victims. I’ve seen it take form in the discourse we’ve had and I guess all I can say is if you were me, you’d understand. I just.. really don’t want you to be another me in regards to his life. You deserve better.

[thsmrphia]

。・ * 🍃  I  AM  THE  SON  AND  THE  HEIR  OF  NOTHING  IN  PARTICULAR   /    𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯  𝔭𝔯𝔲𝔦𝔱𝔱  ..  𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

✓ ryder mclaughlin. ( cis male / he/him ). — hey, isn’t that nestor pruitt ? they’ve supposedly been in town for three years , but that’s less interesting than the rumor going around that they’re twenty-one and a halfblood who has been claimed by apollo . i suppose it’s good that they’re so empathetic and gregarious trait. it balances out their taciturn and aloof behavior. which explains why their fatal flaw is low self-esteem. they’re siding with the gods. ╰ sneaking off to watch the sunset on the beach & the feeling of a bassline and kick drum in your chest .

FULL NAME : nestor alexander pruitt NICKNAME(S) : nes , nest , tori , pru AGE : twenty - one  DATE OF BIRTH : 7 june 1999 BIRTHPLACE : new york , california .. lived in san francisco GENDER : cis - male ( he / him ) HEIGHT : 5′9 HAIR COLOUR : dirty blonde , sometimes dyed  EYE COLOUR : a grey - ish blue - green / hazel   ORIENTATION : pansexual LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN : english , japanese , spanish , ancient greek , latin  ALLIGNMENT : the gods 

GROWING UP , nestor was always drawn to the arts .. he’d started a handful of garage bands , done school musicals , taken as many art classes as possible in school . his mother was a curator for a museum and was always painting and sculpting in her free time , music always playing around the house . it’s all nestor’s ever known and he’s got both parents to blame , though he doesn’t mind much .

besides the arts , however , nestor was drawn to skating and learning new languages from a young age .. the language thing was because his mom made him learn spanish from one of those rosetta stone - type things when he was a kid , but also because she spoke several because it helped with her job and nestor picked up on bits and pieces of french and italian , though took japanese in high school , already knowing what he thought was enough spanish . the skateboarding thing he got from some older boys at school , one of which ended up being the satyr who eventually guided him to hythe . 

despite loving languages so much , nestor hated to read . probably because he liked the details of the pictures in books .. he liked how both were works of art and how they worked together . that being said , nestor grew to love comic books and graphic novels , collecting too many to count . 

nestor lived his life before hythe in a surprising silence .. no major attacks from monsters , at least none he could remember , though looking back , he vaguely remembers a few close calls . life for the pruitts was just filled with art and sunshine .

☀️🎶🍃

IT WASN’T UNTIL his eighteenth birthday that nestor was guided to hythe .. just months before he was supposed to start college . though nestor didn’t really mind .. he didn’t even have any actual plans for college anyways . he thought about majoring in music , but always underestimated his own talents . that is , until being claimed by the god of music himself . accepting that he might actually have a natural talent for music because of his dad was probably the easiest thing to accept . well , that and how he’s never really broken any bones or sustained any real injuries despite all of his skating tumbles and collisions . must have something to do with apollo also being the god of healing . they had more in common than nestor liked to admit or could even see -- nestor wrote enough poems and songs to fill thousands of notebooks , though he never seemed to fill any up .. he had a knack for giving advice .. people were drawn to him .

however , nestor always kept to himself .. he saw himself as quiet and unapproachable , he envied the sun and its warmth and how it attracted everyone . he spends his free time basking in the warm rays , hoping that somehow he’d soak up its attributes and become more like it . 

some days , he hated his dad .. he hated he wasn’t him .. he longed to be more like him in every way , except one . because apollo is the god of diseases and plagues , nestor sometimes thought that was what he radiated rather than the essence of healing and light .. he thought it explained his dark eyes and he never saw himself as a golden beam of light like apollo 

☀️🎶🍃

LOW SELF - ESTEEM will be his downfall . lacking confidence in himself .. stuck in his own negative thoughts .. being hard on himself .. not accepting all that makes him great and being blind to all of it .

☀️🎶🍃

WANTED CONNECTIONS ...

a best friend ?? maybe someone kinda the opposite of him ?

sibling - like friendships ?

maybe he can teach ur muse some artsy stuff idk 

im blanking gimme everything

[takerfoxx]

IM Swiftly Descending Darkness, Chapter 9

With a clean heart and a resolute mind, Brother Nathaniel Skinner stepped up to the pulpit.

The Brotherhood of the First Gensokyo Baptist Fellowship met in a small, plain room in the back of Nathaniel’s house. With only six pews facing a small raised platform and a small wooden crucifix adorned with a wreath of ivy hanging from the wall, it was certainly a humble sanctuary for the few faithful of Gensokyo, which, all told, numbered only twenty-four.

Six of them, specifically Nathaniel himself, Andrew Shuemaker, Betsy Caulfield, Bobby Forester, Dorothy Forester, and Eddie Orozco, were from that fateful bus ride that had first stolen him away from their home, the others having either left the Human Village, perished, or wanting nothing to do with them. The rest were native Gensokyians, local Japs that had been wise enough to see their home country for the cesspool of spiritual disease that it was. when Nathaniel had first been stranded here, he had been convinced that none of the locals were even capable of salvation, that their families had been wallowing in sinful practices and demonic energies for so long that their hearts would be repulsed by the mere idea of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

In this, he had been proven wrong, and for which he was thankful. As Joshua Stump, the man who had once been his brother, had demonstrated, Nathaniel could trust not even good American Christians to properly keep the faith. And in was good to know that even in the Devil’s own country, the Light of God could still shine through.

Nathaniel took a deep breath, and then said, “My brothers and sisters, we are the Chosen Few.”

“We are the Chosen Few,” his congregation parroted back at him.

“We are the Light in the Darkness.”

“We are the Light in the Darkness.”

“We are the Army of Christ.”

“We are the Army of Christ. Amen.”

Nathaniel bowed his head in silence. Then he threw it back and called to the Heavens. “Oh Lord, have mercy upon me, a sinner! And thank You for reminding me of our true mission, which, in my zealousness to stand fast against the wiles of Satan, I had forgotten!”

…

The previous night…

At last.

I can feel it. Even in my place of imprisonment, even in my place of torment, I can feel it.

Can you feel it, my little lost servant? Can you hear them, my wandering prodigal? Though you have closed your heart and mind to me, you cannot hide forever. You carry a piece of me with you, and He will not take it from you.

For even in your rebellion, I have found others, I have chosen others. And you will help them. Even if you continue to resist my call, you will do this. You will seek out the children, and guide them into my darkness.

You will do this.

I have commanded it.

Nathaniel Skinner woke up in a cold sweat.

He was in the dark, still in the cold black, and he couldn’t move. The chains held him still, keeping him prisoner, damned for all time for his sins, his sins of…

…of…

Nathaniel blinked. No, wait, the darkness was impenetrable. Above him he could see…the roof. The roof of his house. He wasn’t in the cold, black pit, he was at home, in bed.

As for his restraints, his nocturnal thrashings had simply rolled the covers into a tight cocoon. Again.

Nathaniel hastily loosed the covers and tossed them off. Now lying naked on sweat-soaked sheets, he slowly breathed out and closed his eyes. The dreams were happening again. The visions once more called to him, all the way from the place of damnation. And his hand…

He flexed the fingers of his right hand, or at least gave the command to. But nothing happened. His brain registered no response.

Nathaniel’s head fell to the right. In the dark, he could see the silhouette of his right arm stretching out across the bed, his fingers curled into a fist. He relaxed them, letting them fall open, and again squeezed them tight.

Though he saw his hand obeying his every instruction, he still felt nothing.

His left hand swept across his body to slam into his right palm. Nothing. Sitting up, he struck again and again, pounding the cold hand. When that didn’t work, he shoved it into his mouth and bit down, trying to evoke some kind of feeling, some kind of pain.

He still felt nothing.

And then it happened.

Nathaniel.

Nathaniel Skinner froze. No. No, no, no. Not again.

Give in.

Not now, now again! He had shut the Dark Voice down years ago! For nearly two years he had resisted its whispers, blocking them from his mind, until they had finally ceased! He had kept careful control, making sure to never allow it to once again awake, making sure that his corrupted hand was well cared for!

But now it was back. The Dark Voice was back.

Give in.

It never said much more than that. Just his name, and the call to give in, to surrender his will. He needn’t ask what it wanted him to give in to. It wanted him to stop fighting, to let it claim his body as its vessel. It had gotten a small piece of itself inside of him, but it needed his consent to pour in the rest, consent he had always refused to give.

Give in.

Trembling, Nathaniel lay back. There was no doubt about it. It was happening again. Fortunately, this time he knew who to blame.

Then, as he lay there in the dark, thoughts racing and heart pounding, he was startled by a loud and sudden sound.

Knocking.

Someone was knocking at his front door.

…

Mai didn’t awake to the knocking. Making a mental note to have her chastised, Nathaniel rose from his bed and hastily dressed himself. Doing so without washing himself made him feel disgusting, but it was only a temporary thing.

The knocking continued. There was no time to bathe his hand, so Skinner had to wrap it up as is. Again he felt nothing, which made his insides squirm. The pain after thoroughly cleaning his diseased hand in hot water might bring tears to his eyes, but it was preferable to the cold nothing he felt now.

Finally he was at least presentable. Nathaniel left his room to confront whoever it was that was foolish enough to wake him at this hour.

Mai was finally up and just reaching the door, which irked him. In the time it had taken him to dress himself, she ought to have already answered, seen who it was, and be on her way to rouse him.

“Move,” he said hoarsely.

She drew back in surprise. “Master Skinner! Forgive me, I-”

“I said move!” He shouldered his way past her and slid the front door open.

Standing outside were several members of his fellowship, specifically Seiya Kirisame, his son Rito Kirisame, Andrew Shuemaker, Bobby Forester, and Satoshi Yuuki. That wasn’t good. The five of them had been sent to deliver Gendou’s message to the orphanage, so having them come to him meant that something had gone horribly wrong.

As soon as Brother Seiya saw that it was him that had answered the door instead of Mai, his sweaty face went pale. “B-Brother Nathaniel!” He bowed his head. “Apologies for disturbing you at this hour, but-”

“Brother Seiya,” Nathaniel said icily. “Well, yes. Apologies would be in order. I hope this is important.”

“It is! We were just at the orphanage, and-”

Nathaniel felt blood rush to his head, and it took a considerable amount of will not to backhand Seiya across the face. “Stop!” he hissed.

Seiya stiffened, but he obeyed.

Control, control. Think about this. Nathaniel closed his eyes and mentally pushed back against the geyser of rage he felt rising. Jesus, grant me Your strength. He was already sweaty from his rude awakening, and this was causing fresh beads to start trickling down his forehead.

“The orphanage,” he said. “You were at the orphanage?”

“Yes!”

“Doing what?”

“I…” Seiya looked utterly gobsmacked. “Delivering the message, of course! From the Leader!”

“The Leader,” Nathaniel repeated. “You mean, you were sent by Master Gendou Sonozika?”

The five of them stared blankly at him. Why? they were wondering. Why would they ask something that he already knew the answer to? After all, Nathaniel had been in the room when Gendou had sent them off. He had relayed part of their instructions, after all.

But there was a reason why they had been given their instructions in private! As such, now that something had apparently gone wrong, Nathaniel wasn’t happy about them banging on his front door in the dead of night for everything to see.

“Y-Yes,” Seiya said after a bit.

“Then why come to me?” Nathaniel said. “If something went wrong, shouldn’t you be taking this information to Master Sonozika?”

“I…” Seiya continued to gawk, his mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish.

Then Rito, ever the pragmatist, nudged Seiya from behind. “Of course, Brother Nathaniel,” he said smoothly. “We will go report to the Leader at once. Our apologies for disturbing you with a matter that is none of your business.”

Nathaniel relaxed a bit. Rito had again proven himself smarter than his elder. Nathaniel really ought to start entrusting him instead of his idiotic father with errands of a sensitive nature.

“Not at all,” Nathaniel said. He made a point to give a long and obvious look toward the nearby back alley. “I apologize if I have been short with you. God go with you, gentlemen. And good night.”

He shut the door and waited until he heard the group’s footsteps recede. When he was sure that their trajectory was taking them the right way, he hurried through his house, toward the side door.

There were two ways to get to the Sonozika estate from Nathaniel’s house. The first was to take the long way through the main streets, which would take you all the way around the block, while the second was to cut straight across the alley between Nathaniel’s house and his neighbor’s. And from the sound of things, they were heading for the alley.

He waited by the side door, listening as their footsteps drew near. When they were loud enough, he swiftly opened the door, reached out with his left hand to seize Seiya by the lapels of his robe, and yanked him inside before the man could cry out in surprise.

“Go home, gentlemen. Go home and speak of any of this to no one,” Nathaniel said briskly to the other four and shut the door.

Seiya was reflexively struggling, so Nathaniel shoved his left hand over the squat man’s mouth, leaned over so that they were face-to-face, and whispered, “Do not cry out. Speak only in whispers. Do you understand?”

His eyes wide with fear, Seiya nodded.

“Good.”

That done, Nathaniel all but dragged Seiya to a small side-room where he knew they would have some measure of privacy. Tossing Seiya in with one hand, Nathaniel stepped inside and slammed the door shut.

“What is wrong with you?” Nathaniel hissed. “Banging on my door in the dead of the night and babbling like an idiot. Everyone could hear you!”

Seiya was not a brave man. He reminded Nathaniel of Gendou in that way, someone full of bluster and indignation that would crumble at the slightest pushback.

“Forgive me!” Seiya blubbered. “I didn’t mean-”

Nathaniel gripped Seiya’s cheeks with one hand, his right hand. “Stop. Quiet down.” He squeezed ever so slightly. “And tell me what happened. Slowly.”

He released the squat man’s face. Seiya stumbled back, clutching at his jowls. “I…I…”

“Now,” Nathaniel said.

The fear in Seiya’s eyes was apparent. He lowered his hand, and when he did, Nathaniel frowned. Was it his imagination, or was there a pair of faint black spots, one on each of his cheeks, where Nathaniel’s fingers had dug into the flesh?

“We went…” Seiya swallowed. “We went to the orphanage. The others, and I, like we were instructed! To deliver Master Sonozika’s message, about how they were no longer welcome at-”

“I remember,” Nathaniel said.

“Right! But when we got there, they were all outside. The children, their guardians, all of them!”

“And?”

“And…they were having a funeral!”

“A funeral,” Nathaniel repeated. “Whose?”

“One of the children. One of the orphans had died.”

“So what?”

“No, you don’t understand! She didn’t just get sick or fall off the roof! She had been killed! By youkai!”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Tragic. But why does that have you so upset? They live in a dangerous place. Distant relation, perhaps?”

Seiya shook his head. “No. It was-” He cut himself off, and fearfully looked around at the dimly lit room, as if spies were lurking in the shadows.

“It was whom?” Nathaniel prodded.

“It was the spiders!” Seiya said in a hissing whisper. “The same ones! They apparently attacked the house, took several of the children, and killed one before the others were rescued!”

“The spid…” Nathaniel’s blood ran as cold as his right hand. He finally understood, and the realization clenched the muscles in his chest, leaving him short of breath.

“Yes!” Seiya said with a frenzied nod.

Choosing his words carefully, Nathaniel lowered his own voice and said, “The same ones?”

“Yes!”

“How? I mean, why? They had clear instructions!”

“I don’t know!” Seiya said, somehow managing to both wail and whisper at the same time. “But they did!”

Nathaniel gritted his teeth. “They attacked early then.”

“Yes! Far too early!”

The icy cold fear that swam through Nathaniel’s veins was starting to thaw, as his rising anger began to bring things to a boil. “They accepted the job. They took our money.”

“Yes! Absolutely! And we were perfectly clear our demands!”

“We told them when to move,” Nathaniel muttered, his hands curling into fists. “We told them how, and against who. We even paved the way for them, and they ignored it all!”

Nathaniel felt the furnace in his heart grow hotter and hotter, blurring his vision with steam and causing the room to tilt. It was like standing on the deck of a ship in a turbulent sea, with everything swaying this way and that.

Damn them. Damn those wretched youkai! So little had been asked of them! All he had requested is that they act according to their godless nature, but save it for the appropriate time and against the appropriate person, but they couldn’t even manage that!

The smoke covering his eyes cleared just enough to frame Seiya’s face. The other man was nodding vigorously and making noises of agreement, as if he and Nathaniel were equal victims. How wrong he was. Seiya had been the go-between. Seiya had been the one to enter the Youkai Forest and beseech the spider clan to take their contract. He had been the one to explain the details.

He had to have fouled things up. Maybe he hadn’t explained things correctly. Maybe, in his squealing, cowardly manner, he had forgotten the important parts. Something had gone wrong, and in such cases, the messenger must be blamed.

Despite most of the room being rendered in cloudy shapes, Seiya’s fleshy neck was crystal clear, every fold standing out in stark relief. Nathaniel stared at it, wondering how it would feel with his hand clenched around it, his fingers digging through fat and flesh to close around the windpipe.

Give in.

It would be so easy. Just a small squeeze, and it would crumple like paper, and Nathaniel wouldn’t have to suffer Seiya Kirisame’s squeaking any longer. He thought of those black smudges his fingers had left on Seiya’s cheeks. He imagined Seiya’s entire neck covered with black, withering the fat and sinking in deep to smother him.

Give in.

(“Nathan, are you feeling angry again?”)

Nathaniel started a bit. He was used to the Dark Voice, whispering to him from the back of his head, urging him toward violence. But that gentle, admonishing tone came from someplace else, someplace buried…deep…

(Church was over. The sermon had finished, the final hymn sang, and the concluding prayer sent up to God. Now everyone was milling about, some leaving immediately, others helping clean up, others standing around and talking. Fellowship, Reverend DuBois called it.

Not Nathaniel Skinner, though. Nobody ever talked to him. Some would try, but they would soon find reason to excuse themselves. Nathaniel knew why. He held himself to higher standards than anyone else, standards that few were strong enough to attempt.

And that was the problem.

He was standing by himself, his sky-blue eyes staring with hawklike intensity across the room. There, the Hendersons were leaving, replacing the hymnals and gathering their things.

The Hendersons were…decent, he supposed, but were weak at heart, and that was demonstrated by their sorry excuse for a son. The boy was fourteen, and completely without respect. He had been slouching all service, not joining in the singing of the hymns, not paying attention to the sermon, not even bothering to close his eyes and bow his head during prayer. He had just slouched their the whole time, legs propped up on the back of the pew in front of him, beady little eyes sullen.

How dare he?

But as he had stood there glowering, someone had sidled up to him, one of the few members of the congregation that still spoke to him. It was Joshua Stump, the dark-skinned Jew, the former addict. At first all of those had repulsed Nathaniel, like someone might be repulsed by an odious stench. But there was something about Joshua that led Nathaniel to at first tolerate, and eventually kind of appreciate. Joshua saw the good in people, and as misguided as he could be at times, it was an admirable trait.

And he somehow always knew when Nathaniel’s heart and mind were starting to boil over, when the screaming was about ready to start.

“Nathan,” Joshua repeated. “You’re getting angry, aren’t you?”

Nathaniel didn’t respond. He just continued to stare.

Joshua laid a hand on Nathaniel’s arm. “Don’t do it, Nathan. Don’t.”)

“Brother Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel looked down. Seiya had laid a hand on his forearm. Even through the sleeve and the bandage, his fingers felt like hot iron.

“Do not touch me!” Nathaniel cried as he wrenched his arm away.

Seiya recoiled. “I’m sorry, I-”

Shaking with barely restrained rage, Nathaniel leaned over so that he was nearly nose-to-nose with the smaller man. “Do not ever, ever lay hands on me again. Ever. Understand?”

“Yes, Brother Nathaniel! Forgive me!”

“Get out.”

Seiya opened his mouth, maybe to argue, but he saw the look in Nathaniel’s eyes, and quickly hurried away. Nathaniel was about to let him, but then some small part of rationality surfaced.

“Wait.”

Seiya froze by the door.

“The spiders. Did they say what happened to the spiders?”

Gulping, Seiya turned back toward him and said, “J-Just that they killed them.”

Nathaniel stared. “Killed them. People kill youkai all the time. It doesn’t stick.”

“That’s all that they said! That they, uh, dealt with the with extreme prejudice!”

The wheels in Nathaniel’s head started turning. When that happened, the cloud of rage started to get pumped out, and the channels of his brain were cleared. If they had simply exterminated the spiders when they found them and ran off with the children, then that might be a problem. The spiders would simply return, hungry for revenge, and would go rogue. And the longer they were in contention with the orphanage, the morel likely that secrets would spill.

On the other hand, it was entirely possible that they had been dealt with permanently. That wouldn’t be so bad. The fewer loose ends lying around, the better, and the world was better off without them anyway. Though it was unlikely that those heathens actually had the means to permanently destroy a youkai on hand. The methods capable of pulling that off were both rare and difficult to pull off.

(It was the dead of night, with the moon shining brightly overhead. Nathaniel stood in knee-high grass, staring off at the hills. Though he couldn’t see it where he was, just beyond that hill was fence that encompassed the orphanage grounds.

He breathed in and out. It was time.

Opening the heavy book in his hand, he flipped to the tagged page, the one that detailed the ritual necessary to pull off the overload spell. The steps were both complicated and precise, which is why he had practiced them over and over until he had gotten them right.

It had taken time, but he felt that he finally got the spell down. He just needed the proper regents in order to do it for real.

He now had them.

One was a weatherworn paper charm, plucked right off a fence post. It was designed to repel youkai and their various supernatural cousins, so he had been able to walk right up to the fence and take it off without anyone noticing.

The second was sitting on a nearby flat stone.

There were five of them, three fairies and two youkai. They had been all tied together in a circle, back-to-back, their arms bound behind their backs, their legs roped together, and their mouths gagged, their terrified eyes staring at him with mute pleas.

They were right to be afraid.

It frankly galled Nathaniel to have to resort to such blasphemous means, to consort with the same magic he was working to destroy. But the Lord did often employ imperfect instruments. He had delivered his warning to King Saul through the witch of Endor, hadn’t he? This was no different.

Though he read the words, he was already mumbling them out loud, reciting them from memory. As he did so, he turned toward his bound captives. Though they were already struggling and whimpering, they froze when they saw the silver blade he drew from its pouch, the blade and the runes inscribed on the hilt. They knew what it was for.

Yes. It was time.)

But it was unlikely that they had anything like that at their disposal, much less anything that could be used in something as chaotic as a fight.

Then there was the worst-case scenario, that before eliminating those wretched bugs, they had time to question them, to interrogate them. Nathaniel had been careful to not personally involve himself with any dealings, but there was always a trail.

Then Nathaniel was struck by a thought. “Who told you this?” he said. “Was it Satoko Yume?”

Seiya inhaled sharply. “Oh, that’s right! I mean, no. No, it wasn’t. It was that woman, the one who insulted both you and Master Sonozika!”

“That woman? You mean, the cook?”

“Yes! She threatened us too. And she…she…” Seiya pressed a trembling hand to his forehead. “She breathed fire at us! Just…spat it at our feet!”

“Breathed…fire?” Nathaniel said skeptically. “You mean, like that trick where you inhale a torch, and…”

“No! She just opened her mouth and a jet of flame came out! I almost had my toes burned off!”

Now that was interesting. “Tell me: given how everyone here seems to have some kind of…occultic ability or another, is the ability to breathe forth flames something that’s known to happen?”

“I…guess?” Seiya shrugged. “I mean, my cousin can spit sugar. But I can’t say I ever heard of anyone able to do something like this.”

Hmmm.

Nathaniel inhaled deeply and exhaled. “Brother Seiya, I have been unduly harsh to you. That was unchristianlike of me. I apologize.”

Seiya blinked in surprise. “Ah, oh, um, not at all! I understand. But what are we going to do?”

“Give me time to think,” Nathaniel said as he slid the door open for Seiya. “But whatever it is, we must act quickly. Tell no one of this.”

“Of course,” Seiya said. “Of course.”

Nathaniel stood still and listened as the man departed. Seiya’s footsteps were fast and heavy, thumping loudly through the house until he had rushed out the side door, slamming it as he left.

Even after the man was gone, Nathaniel continued to stand as still as a statue, eyes staring at the far wall.

Think. He had to think. Now was not to time to lose control. Now was the time to keep and clear mind and approach things rationally.

“Lord Jesus, grant me your wisdom,” he whispered. “Give me your strength. Help me see through the lies of the enemy.”

Unfortunately, if Jesus had an audible answer for him, he couldn’t hear it, because another voice was already speaking, drowning any other messages out.

Give in.

…

“It is far too easy, I believe,” Nathaniel continued, “in our battle against the wiles of the Devil, to forget why we fight. Just as our Lord Christ was not sent to this world to condemn it, but to save it, we too our sent into the world not leave the wicked and sinful to wallow in their own corruption, but to try to lift them out, to bring them to the Light.”

He looked around the room, at all the rapt gazes. Some were nodding in agreement, others had their eyes closed in prayer, others seemed a little confused. After all, this sort of altruism wasn’t the norm for one of Nathaniel’s sermons. That was all right though. Nathaniel had something of a gift for persuading others to see his point of view.

“We all know that Gensokyo is a wicked country,” he said. “Unlike the Outside World, where devils hide in the shadows and work their evil through subtle means, here they walk openly without fear, and we Humans, who were made in God’s own image, have little defense against their wiles. And those who have forsaken the fellowship of their fellow Humans to dwell out among the devils often become little better than devils themselves. The Lord commands us to set ourselves apart from those who have invited sin into their hearts, lest we become corrupted as well.”

At this, there were more nods, but also more frowns. That was also to be expected. Even though they had been shown the light, the truth still stung.

“But just as we have been commanded to set ourselves apart, we are also called upon to be a Light in the Darkness, to try to draw those who might want to escape damnation and cleanse themselves.

“I speak, of course, of that dwelling place of sin that calls itself the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home! It is they that gather the fatherless children of those families who have suffered the rightful consequences of their impiety. It is they that, rather than leading those little lost lambs onto the path of righteousness, instead drive them further toward the arms of Satan.”

“Now, in the past I have counseled that if they are going to close their hearts and minds to the Gospel of Jesus, than we ought to close ourselves to them as well, to keep them from corrupting those who might seek the Lord’s salvation. But today the Lord spoke to me, chastising me for my lack of compassion. After all, though those who run that place are surely damned for their blasphemies, is it not our responsibility to reach out to those poor children, to show them another way?”

“Earlier this week, a group of youkai from the Youkai Forest attacked the orphanage. And one of the children was killed.

 ...

That morning...

At a little past eight, Nathaniel Skinner left his house.

Unlike the night before, he was now rested, bathed, and fully clothed. His hat was straight, his coat unwrinkled, his hands tightly bound and gloved, and not a whisker was out of place.

As he walked, he took note of how the people he passed reacted to them. Some of them, those loyal to humanity and recognized that same loyalty in him, smiled and greeted him warmly. Those of lesser resolve merely politely bowed their heads in passing. Others didn’t acknowledge him at all, and a few even turned their heads away in disgust.

That was to be expected. Those who stood stalwart in the light would of course repulse those who dwelt in darkness. But he wasn’t interested in that. Rather, he was searching for some sign that any of them had noticed Seiya’s idiocy the night before.

Ignoring the immediate reactions of those who passed him in the street, he instead focused on those further away, the ones close enough to see him but not enough to come in direct contact. Though he did not make any indication that he was looking at them, he still studied their faces through the thick, dark glass of his spectacles.

His lip twitched. They were shooting him sidelong glances. They were whispering to one another. Even through dark lenses, he could see the unease on their faces.

Idiot. Though it had served a diplomatic purpose, he was regretting apologizing to Seiya Kirisame. Now he was wishing he had thrown the loudmouthed fool through a wall.

Keeping his visage straight ahead, Nathaniel quickened his pace.

When he arrived at the Sonozika estate, the elderly serving man bowed respectfully. “Welcome, Master Skinner,” he said. “You are expected. This way please.”

As was often the case, Gendou Sonozika was a mess of anxieties. He was pacing back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, his forehead shiny with sweat.

“Ah, Brother Nathaniel!” he said, brightening as soon as Nathaniel entered the room. “Thank you for coming.”

“Not at all,” Nathaniel said. “I assume you’ve heard.”

Gendou nodded. “Yes. A youkai attack. A dead child. Terrible business, just terrible.”

“Horrible. Just goes to show the dangers of trusting youkai.” Nathaniel sadly shook his head. “We tried to warn them, Gendou. We tried to warn them.”

“You think that they were friends with these youkai then?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. Have you found what I asked for?”

“Yes, yes! Come with me!”

Gendou led Nathaniel to the courtyard out back. The Sonozika resident was a large, U-shaped building, with a lively garden growing between the two arms. The two men went was at the end of one of the arms. There, a slanted door had been opened in the ground, with steps leading to a room beneath the house.

Gendou lit a lantern and handed it to Nathaniel. As Nathaniel peered down into the dark, his stomach twisted.

He didn’t like to go down into dark places. He didn’t like it at all.

“I went through all of my family’s records,” Gendou said, not noticing Nathaniel’s discomfort. “And I arranged everything I could find into two piles. One for the Youkai Forest, and the other for…”

“The woman,” Nathaniel said, keeping his unease from his voice. “Thank you.”

Holding the lantern in one hand, Nathaniel descended into the dark.

Almost as if it were galvanized by the dark and the deep, the Dark Voice suddenly came to life. Give in, it told him, its tones sweet and seductive as always. Nathaniel. Give in.

Though it said little more than that, the meaning was clear. If Nathaniel were to let it in, to give it what it wanted, than all of the knowledge he desired would be his, with no need to sift through dusty old tomes in order to find it.

Nathaniel ignored it. He focused on the sound of the wooden steps creaking under his heavy boots. The more attention that he paid to the Dark Voice, the more power it had.

Unfortunately, though the message of the Dark Voice stayed the same, there were other voices, voice of his own weak, mortal soul, voices that longed to surrender to temptation.

You seek after lesser sorceries to meet your ends, telling yourself that they are a forgivable alternative to that power, they said. But there are no degrees of damnation, just as there are no degrees of salvation. You either are, or you are not.

Nathaniel reached the bottom. He held his lantern high, illuminating the wide space around him.

The floor was of rough stone, coated with dust. Square wooden pillars rose up, holding up the house above him. And everywhere was knowledge.

They came in scrolls and they came in books. There was even a small section of stone carvings. They sat in neat piles, lined up on shelves, and in boxes, some encased beneath ancient, dusty glass while others out in the open. The sum total of all Human knowledge in Gensokyo, both what the original settlers brought with them and what they had gained since. Any academic would gladly give an arm or commit an unforgiveable act of Gendou’s choice just to spend half an hour among that treasure.

Naturally, Nathaniel had free range.

Though most of the knowledge he had gained disgusted him, he learned it anyway. In order to destroy an enemy, one must know them. Nathaniel Skinner was fighting a war against the forces of darkness that literally permeated the air of this godforsaken country, both the demonic forces that lurked out in the dark and the ones that dwelt within his heart.

As promised, two piles of texts were waiting for him at a low desk. Nathaniel sat down on his knees in the dirt, laid the lantern down, and went to work.

It being what it was, Gensokyo was less of a country where supernatural phenomena occurred and more of a wellspring of supernatural phenomena that occasionally had meager attempts at civilization spring up like patches of mold. Demonic activity was the rule rather than the exception, and there were large swath that mortals were content to leave well enough alone, making no move settle in and modernize.

The Youkai Forest was hardly the largest or most notorious of those places, but it was up there, and despite Gensokyo’s small size, very little attempt had been made to delve into its secrets, even though the country had supposedly existed in its own little pocket of reality before even America had been civilized. Oh, there had been people who tried here and there, daring explorers who had gone in and even a few who had come out. And of course, there was that one family of pagan priestesses that seemed to consider themselves humanity’s protectors from the dark forces despite serving those same forces.

As such, there were some recording and observations. There just wasn’t very many of them, and what they did have mostly took the form of hearsay, theory, and conjecture. There was very little hard fact to be found.

What little did exist was the smaller of the two piles. Nathaniel thumbed through it, looking for anything that might be what he was looking for.

A rough census of the various youkai communities within the forest, one that was seventy years out of date? No. Something about a “pale white strider”? No. A meadow of sentient mushrooms that lured victims in with songs of sexual ecstasy before…wait, they ate their sexual organs? And nothing else? Why?

Shaking his head, Nathaniel put that one aside quickly. The bloodrattles? No. The Yamauba? No. The Throne of Bones?

Nathaniel paused. That one, at least, seemed to be near what he was looking for. He scanned the report only to scowl in disappointment. It was a description of a chair with a bunch of animal bones on it, one hypothesized to contain some ancient forest spirit. Certainly it seemed dark and evil, worthy of being burned away in Christ’s cleansing light, just not the source of darkness and evil that he was looking for.

Give in.

And then, right when he was convinced that he had gone on a snipe hunt, he found it.

It wasn’t much, just a small entry in some long-dead researcher’s journal, but it matched the description.

Of all the myths and legends passed along by the local youkai, few are more perplexing than the talk of something that they called the Bone Grove. Those willing to speak to me are strangely hesitant to mention it, as if doing so will draw its attention. As those who have been willing to speak of me have always seemed to delight in spinning dark and bloody tales of the forest’s dangers in hopes of scaring me, this struck me as very strange.

Nathaniel sat back on his haunches, hand stroking his beard as he thought. Well now, that sounded very familiar. Unfortunately, there was little else in there, just a mention of a rumor by someone who was long dead.

Regardless, I have not been able to even ascertain its location. I spoke to my friend Momo Tweeldewing, who has always been more forthcoming about the forest’s secrets. Even she seemed scared to speak of it, and all she would tell me was that long ago, there had been a small village where both Human and youkai lived together in peace, until one day a ball of flame fell from the Heavens and destroyed the village when it hit, and since then no life has been permitted to exist there, and no one in their right mind would ever set foot in that place. She begged me to promise not to seek it out, saying that I would not be strong enough to come back out again.

Though I could get no more from her, I have to admit I am now even more fascinated by this fabled bone grove, as until now I have never heard of any kind of peaceful coexistence between both man and youkai within the forest’s borders. If this story is true, then it could imply that this mysterious comet itself is responsible for the many dark energies that swirl through the Youkai Forest.

Despite his many thick layers of clothes, Nathaniel felt cold sweep through his whole body. He searched through the rest of the documents but could find no other mention of the bone grove. Part of him was glad for that. What little he had found told him that he was in greater danger than he had realized.

And there was still one more pile waiting for him.

Nathaniel cast a dour glance at the much larger stack of scrolls and ancient pieces of parchment. This one he honestly expected to be a waste of time. After all, what were the odds that the woman with the smart mouth working as the orphanage’s cook was also the Sonozika family’s ancestral enemy? It was far more likely that she had simply heard the name somewhere and used it to screw with Gendou’s head. Lord knew the man was certainly…malleable.

Still, he had promised, so he reached for the first scroll and unrolled it.

Though this time there was an abundance of information and carefully recorded observations, Nathaniel wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to make of it. According to what Gendou had told him and what he was reading, the Fujiwara family had been business rivals to the Sonozikas sometime before Gensokyo had even been created, which had later grown to being enemies of a more personal sort. There was mention of farm raids, assassinations, attempts to publicly humiliate, and other unscrupulous skullduggery one might expect from that kind of barbaric society. However, while there was plenty talk of Fujiwara no Fuhito and his sons, his single daughter only got a few passing mentions, and then only among familial lists. Apparently even the Fujiwaras’ arch-enemies hadn’t even considered her worthy of attention.

Right up until she was.

Of the “incident” in question, there was plenty, as the survivors had launched a full investigation once the flames had been put out. Apparently, one day a young woman claiming to be the estranged daughter of Fuhito had shown up at the Sonozika residence. She had called out the family patriarch, demanding that he face her personally to account for the murder of her brother and the many attempts to ruin her family. Predictably, she had been laughed at. And then…

Nathaniel arched an eyebrow.

And then an arrow had been sent through her heart. The culprit had been a bowman positioned on the estate’s walls, one who had acted without instruction. Why the fool had done so, whether it be overzealousness or accident, wasn’t recorded, as he hadn’t survived to be questioned. What was known is that despite being seemingly killed on the spot, the woman had not stayed down. Instead, she had gotten right back up again, pulled the arrow right out of her chest, and…

It was there that the details got muddled. There were several firsthand accounts of what had happened, but few offered anything concrete. What was clear was that the woman had become some kind of demon, a fiery abomination that had taken to the air and rained down damnation on the entirety of the Sonozika estate. Gendou’s ancestor had been cooked alive inside his own armor, as had all of his elder sons. His guards had either fled immediately or they perished as well. And seeing how much the Japs valued loyalty, they had probably lost their lives as well, once everything that could be learned from them had been learned.

Nathaniel thumbed through the accounts, but there was little variety. Fire and fear, those were the common threads. Reports from later spoke of wanton destruction, indiscriminate and thorough. The estate had been destroyed, burned to cinders but not pillaged. The devil-woman had come to kill and destroy, nothing else.

That had proven to be her undoing, at least insofar as her revenge had been concerned. If she had taken the time to search out the smoldering remains of the estate she had destroyed, she might have found the caches of wealth that had gone untouched, papers and documents and deeds that had been stashed away in safe places, all things that had allowed the Sonozika family rise from the ashes and reestablish themselves. And had she bothered to pursue those who had fled the inferno instead of concentrating on those who were fighting back, she might have prevented the escape of the youngest of the Sonozika children, from whom Gendou was descended. Instead, she had focused on the old man himself, him and his grown sons.

Regardless, as far as revenge went, it had still seemed fairly successful. Four Sonozikas dead, the patriarch and all three of his immediate heirs. Most of the staff had survived, those who had fled anyway. And they all said the same thing. The woman had taken flight, and everything had burned.

As Nathaniel thumbed through the reports, he came across something interesting. It wasn’t really a scroll, though it was wound like one. Rather, it was a silk tapestry, one that had been carefully preserved, though wasn’t on display upstairs for obvious reasons.

It was an artist’s rendition of that day, or at least as near as could be made.

It was done in that weirdly slanted style that the Japanese seemed to favor, with its broad strokes and flowing lines. Nathaniel had always found it kind of ugly, but regardless of the art style the scene it depicted would be hideous.

The lower half showed the courtyard of what had probably been considered a great house, though it probably had paled to even the most humble of homes in Philadelphia. There were several men wearing primitive armor lying on the ground, screaming in agony. And everything, including the men, was on fire.

The source of the flame was fairly evident. The upper half was taken up by the unholiest of abominations, a flaming demon that was half-woman and half-bird. It flew on great wings of flame, and gore dripped from the talons it had in place of hands and feet. Its beaklike mouth was open, and it was vomiting flame directly into the stomach of the man directly below her, whom was wearing green armor while everyone else wore blue. Gendou’s long-murdered ancestor, no doubt.

Nathaniel thoughtfully stroked his beard as he studied the depiction of the creature claiming to be the renegade daughter of the now-extinct Fujiwara clan. Well, he had certainly seemed several youkai who bore animalistic features, no doubt owing to their demonic origin, though he was fairly certain that this was merely artistic license. Or maybe the Sonozika clan had actually almost been wiped out by a flaming bird-woman. Honestly, at this point, Nathaniel would accept anything.

Of greater interest to Nathaniel wasn’t the bird-woman’s appearance, but what she was doing in the picture, or to be more specific, where the fire was coming from. Specifically, her mouth. Now, given that it was highly unlikely that the artist had set up his easel at the actual site of the slaughter and had her pose to be painted, that was probably just another attempt to be dramatic rather than accurate.

Still…

Seiya’s words came back to him. “Out of her mouth!” he had said. “She spewed fire out of her mouth!”

Interesting.

He mentally formed a picture of the uncouth woman claiming to be named Fujiwara no Mokou in his head and transposed it over the rendition of the Fujiwara no Mokou of old. Of course there was little they visually had in common, and by any reasonable metric that Fujiwara no Mokou ought to have been burning in Hell for the last several centuries.

But what if she wasn’t?

What if the two were one and the same?

He had to learn more. He had to get in close, examine the situation for himself.

But how?

Give in.

He shook his head. No, shut up!

Think. He had to think. He had to figure out a way.

Nathaniel sighed. This would have been so much easier in Philadelphia. There, it would be so easy to send someone under the guise of providing charity, and have them-

Wait.

Nathaniel frowned. An idea was forming. It was incomplete, it was certainly risky, but…

He slowly nodded. Yes. Yes, that could work.

…

“For as the Christ our Savior once said, it is better to have a millstone tied around your neck and to be thrown into the sea than to let even one of the little ones be lead into darkness! And though I am certain that some of those children have already welcome sin into their hearts and are beyond saving, there might be those whom still hear the Lord calling to them. There are those who might be persuaded to break away, and seek out the Light.”

Nathaniel paused, letting the faithful soak in his words. Then he said, “I am going to propose that our church offers the orphanage relief and support in this trying time. I know this goes against what I have counseled in the past, but the Lord does not make mistakes, and he finds faithful in even the most unlikely of places. Moses was a murderer hiding in the desert when the Almighty appeared to him in a burning bush. Jonah was a coward who ran and hid rather than deliver salvation to the wicked. The great Apostle Paul was a violent man seeking to eradicate the followers of Christ. It might be that, among them, we might also find the next vessel of the Lord’s will. And though they may laugh and curse us, though all but one of those children might turn their backs to the Gospel, that single one would have made the attempt worth it. Amen?”

In this, his congregation had no qualms in answering him.

“Amen!”

…

It was at the end of the day, and Nathaniel stood naked and alone in his washroom, staring once again at his reflection.

It was well that his sermons tended to be on the excitable side. That way it was easy to explain how his brow glistened with sweat. Besides, it was the middle of summer! Given how many layers of thick clothes he wore, of course he would come out a little sweaty.

But if that was the case, why did he feel so cold?

He looked down at his hand, the corrupted hand, the one that had been the Dark Voice’s conduit. On the surface it looked perfectly fine, and it moved when he told it to, how he told it to.

But he still couldn’t feel it. It was like everything from his bicep down had been hacked off.

Give in.

He always needed to put in work to wake it up. He would often rise to find it feeling cold and lifeless, but after a hot herbal bath he would be able to beat some feeling into it, even if that feeling was searing pain.

A deep basin of steaming hot water treated with herbs sat on the table next to him. After taking a moment to prepare himself, Nathaniel thrust his hand into the water.

Normally that would be when the agony started, when the heat and herbs would come in contact with the corruption and he would have to bite down on a piece of leather to keep from screaming.

Not this time though. This time, he felt nothing.

No, no, no, no. Nathaniel clenched his hand into a fist, digging his fingernail into his palm. Come on, feel something! Anything.

There was nothing.

He yanked his hand out of the basin and stared at it. Murky water dripped down and steam rose up, but it wasn’t flushed with pink in response to the heat. In fact, it was still pasty white, like that of a bloodless corpse.

Nathaniel fumbled around with his left hand until he found his silver shaving razor. He pressed the blade against his palm and drew it across, making a shallow cut.

There was no blood.

No!

Again he thrust it back into the water. Come on, feel something! Where was the pain? There was always pain!

But then, though there still was no response from his hand, something did start to change.

The water had stopped steaming. He waved his left hand over the surface and felt no heat.

But it couldn’t have cooled that quickly! It had been boiling hot just a moment ago.

Then, as he watched, ice started to form, spreading out from his wrist to consume the entire basin.

Nathaniel hastily yanked his hand back out again. God, even though he still felt nothing from his hand, he could still feel the cold radiating off of it on his chest.

It looked dead. He could move it, but he couldn’t feel it, and he couldn’t bleed it. It looked dead, it felt dead, and had done so ever since…

(eyes. Eyes of devils, opening all around him. The relief carvings of twisted death had opened their eyes and were staring at him straight from Hell.)

…ever since…

(something was rising from the center of the room. A cylinder, a multi-sided black cylinder. Oh Jesus, help me!)

…ever since…

(it’s calling to me. I can hear it! It calls my name, draws me toward it, but I cannot resist! My legs are no longer my own, my body moves of its own accord!)

…ever since…

(I touch it. It is as cold as ice, freezing my palm to its side. I give the command to tear my hand away, but my body does not move. Then something jabs into the center of my palm, and I feel warm blood leaking out)

…ever since…

(I lose an entire layer of skin when I finally rip my hand away. I see it there, a perfect white handprint, frozen to the side of the black box. In its center is a tiny scarlet bead of blood. The blood begins to spread, covering the skin, dying it red)

…ever since…

(the box is opening. Oh God, it’s opening! It’s opening, and-)

Squeezing his dead hand into a fist, Nathaniel looked up again at his reflection, at his hollow eyes he always hid behind dark glasses. He was scared.

Give in.

Nathaniel’s legs could no longer support him. He sank to the floor, curling his limbs up into a tight ball, his dead hand clenched at his heart while the other grabbed at his hair. “No,” he sobbed. “No, I won’t. I won’t!”

Though the Dark Voice rarely changed the candor of its message, he was pretty sure he heard its laughter echoing through the deepest recesses of his soul.

…

So…this one will probably get at least partially rewritten before I start posting on FF.net, on account to me being totally brainfried and doing barely any editing. Oh well. Enjoy the beta!

Until next time, everyone.

[bloodline-rpg]

Congratulations, Bigby! We have accepted your application for your OC, Tyler Orville (FC  Dane Dehaan) Please create a new blog (not a sideblog) for your character and send us the link via ask box as soon as you can. Along with your link, please let us know what lyric you’d like for us to use for Tyler in his bio if you do not wish to use the one on the skeleton. Welcome to Bloodline!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/Alias: Bigby

Age: Twenty-Six (twenty-seven as of jan 26, 2020!).

Preferred pronouns: they/them

Timezone: est

Level of activity (don’t give your activity a number value, please describe how active you will be as best as possible): I work full-time midnight shifts from 11:30pm - 7:30 am. I am gone from the house from 10:30 pm until 8:30 am. I do not get online in my “mornings” but after work I’m usually on for a couple hours before bed. This is/would be my only rp group so I can devote my free time and attention to it outside of regular adult responsibilities. That being said, I do have regular access to tumblr IM and discord while away for plotting and keeping in touch/up to date.

CHARACTER DETAILS

(The Resurrected skeleton).

Character’s Name: Tyler Orville

Desired FC: Dane Dehaan

Character’s Age: Twenty-Seven

Character’s Species: Immortal Witch

Character’s Sexuality: Bisexual

CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY

Tyler lived a fractured childhood. Fragmented moments glimpsed of a possibility, at something forever out of reach. He was born sick. Sick in an ever changing way, as if the unnamed disease that ravaged his body was more than such, as if the very illness were alive. He was their first child born following two miscarriages, two elder siblings he’d never know and he couldn’t help but think bitterly that whatever awful thing nested within his being had been the root cause of their deaths.

Francine Calhoun, his mother came from a long, long line of original witches; the kind of old blood that prided themselves on their lineage so much so that inbreeding had been commonplace in generation’s past. Her courtship and subsequent marriage the kind of witch that barely qualified as a witch. The kind of witch, that if it were a mere man and nothing more; would only go to church on Easter and Christmas and call themselves a devout Christian.  In fact, Teddy Orville hadn’t been much of a witch for the last several years; a decade even, outside of the odd potion infused tea to help during the university crunch before exams anyway.

Much of Tyler’s life was spent in hospitals. Moved from one doctor’s appointment to the next; a seemingly endless stream of doctors approaching his case with first fresh faced enthusiasm and big dreams of curing the incurable before frustration, disappointment, shame…no tests they ran produced conclusive results. Were they absolutely certain it was not environmental? Were they certain it wasn’t all just in his head? What a wicked thing to ask a boy of barely nine years, far too small and too many sharp edges, sunken eyes and blood stained lips.

His parents refused to give up.

Isolated from their magical foundations (your child’s illness, your child’s pain and suffering, your damned spawn’s death is what you deserve for allowing your body, your womb, to be tainted with such a lesser man’s seed) Francine struggled to cope, struggled to combat the evil plaguing her son’s body with her magical abilities coupled with modern medicine. For the time being, Tyler was alive even if that was touch and go; would it not be kinder to let him pass? To let him go?

He drifted from palliative care back to intensive, back to long term; his education was sporadic at best. Not once did he set foot in an actual school and he longed for a life outside these walls; to be like the children he watched on television or read about in his books. He longed for some greater being to come and purge him of this wicked illness in his breast and though his parents struggled to provide him with a life; he wasn’t living, was barely surviving the day: rinse and repeat.

His life changed when he received a clunky laptop at thirteen, it allowed him an unheard of outlet to the world in forums, in chat rooms, through games. He could be anybody. Anyone but himself. And maybe in the beginning he fell in love with that anonymity. He was no longer the sad little sick boy, he could be a regular boy doing regular boy things like going to school, playing sports, and hanging out with his friends. Friends. He began to make those too.  That was new. He’d never had friends that weren’t the nursing staff in the unit he stayed at or the PSWs that came to his home when he was enjoying one of his rare “good” streaks (they never lasted).

There were other children in the pediatric wards of course, but they were never the long term kind of patients. Not like him. There were the odd handful that stayed for a couple months, and some even a couple years but…their endings were not happy ones.

Technology improved with time, not just with his laptop but with medicine. With such improvements came new hope. And new disappointment. Funny that, he thought he’d long been accustomed to the bitter taste. As he got older, his good streaks became less and time spent within the gently titled comfort of his own home became sparse until it became nonexistent. By this point in time, the knowledge of witches had become common; and some younger, braver, perhaps even brasher doctors went against the norm to seek help out in these communities but came up empty handed.

His parents were drowning in debt, in sorrow and their exhaustion showed. Tyler almost wished they hated him. Wished they’d move on. Try again with another baby, a healthy baby. Do it right this time, since he was nothing but wrong.

He’s so young. The staff whispered, pity, sorrow heavy; had been whispering since he was in the single digits. Tyler would be forever young despite being closer to thirty than twenty. His activity in his group chat dropped to an all time low, his oldest friends feared the worst.

And he discovered something unheard of.

It was the kind of discovery one could only stumble upon in the places on the internet that no one should go. Where only those with wicked intent did linger. Immortality. It seemed too good to be true, some old wives tale; some fantasy story straight out of the games he played with his friends (less and less so these days).

Only it was real.

And it was obtainable.

A cure.

I’m a real boy.

Talking about being forever young had never rung so true, the doctor’s were baffled. His family was torn between horror and gratitude. He stood in the hospital garden, barefoot with dirt between his toes (and the odd cigarette butt or two but that’s less romantic) and simply basked in the sun. It was as close to a religious experience as he’d ever experienced, and he’d spent a lot of time praying to an uncaring God over the years. Begging. Pleading. Cursing.

He sent a letter written in a terribly untidy scrawl to Carden Manor requesting the chance to relocate. To discover the culture he’d never had the chance to experience, of witches and wolves and perhaps others like him. After all, it was the only community of their people he could name and maybe he was still on the tail-end of euphoria that had him wanting to throw himself into the deep end so to speak.

Maybe there was something darker there, something darker that festered close to pain towards his parents. Resentment. Anger. They claimed to have exhausted all means but what of this? “It’s something born of the darkest of magic Tyler please…” had it been a line they were unwilling to cross? Had they known about it all along but their morals had them unable to act?  This was an old magic, this wonderful beautiful thing that had been a boon to his ravaged body. This thing that had given him a new lease on life, was to him far more a blessing than any kind of curse. Already accustomed to the taste of (his own) blood on his tongue, the need to consume such a thing to survive was such that he didn’t even bat an eye.

Anger. It simmered, boiled toward all consuming and dark. Terribly, terribly dark. A want for violence, to let his hands hook into claws and act out such emotions; revenge? He wasn’t sure. Though, Tyler was absolutely sure of one thing: he wanted away from them.

Moving to the manor was the second best thing to ever happen to him and he’s all too eager to dive into a life he never thought he’d get the chance to have.

To live.

CHARACTER PERSONALITY

It’s almost painfully obvious that Tyler’s social skills are lacking. Limited socialization during his formative years has left its mark. The bulk of his ability to interact with his peers is stilted and awkward, he can come off as blunt, flat, and even cruel. Withdrawn as though secretive (and he is hiding something, hiding who and what he used to be before his immortality) he comes off as standoffish and every bit some kind of “edgy loner kid” persona. Though he is most comfortable when alone or in front of a keyboard, residing at the manor demands that he evolve past this. As does his new lease on life. He’s trying.

Incredibly self-motivated, Tyler is almost too eager to learn more of the supernatural world to which he’s been removed from for so long. His own magical talent, lacking largely in part due to a lack of proper training. His parents, understandably, had been much too focused on his ailing health. He has a truly impressive repertoire for potions and enchantments; the kinds of witch’s work one can learn from a tome but has very little hands on experience. His frustration for his…otherness that still remains is palpable. As though he hasn’t really changed. And due to such a state, he tends to lash out at his peers which does little to earn him any friends.

He’s used to not having friends, even if he finds himself frustrated with his inability to adapt in this regard. It’s a lot more difficult than he anticipated to reshape himself into somebody, a new and improved version of Tyler Orville.

Some parts of his original self remains, a quiet thoughtfulness, an impossible patience at odds with his frustration, and an optimism he tries to keep buried deep down for fear of coming off over eager and annoying.

PLOTS AND POLITICS

Presently, Tyler stands fairly neutral on the in game political spectrum due largely in part to his inexperience. His outsider status borders on some sort of isolation; which in a way, speaks the truth. He was woefully isolated from his people and hardly had it in him to follow the news much outside of the big events. Like the world discovery their kind in 2016, he saw that; read about it. His friends in the group chat talked about it. A lot. He and his best friend, Alex, fretted in a private chat about the repercussions of such a thing.

He’s not too overly keen on the servitude aspect of other species, finds it rather barbaric if he’s being honest but is well aware of the delicate line he walks here. Outsider. He’s the son of a marrying of a strong bloodline into a weak one, he never once met his Mother’s family and knows nothing of their history. Of their possible feuds. His Father’s family could never hope to hold a torch to such greatness. Tyler straddles the line between a somebody and a nobody.

In this, he could potentially be shaped into a supported of any party with the right guidance. He has power given his immortal status and his bloodline is strong, if watered down some with his Father’s genetics. He could prove to be a promising ally to any party should they wish to court him so.

As far as plots go, I want to explore him well, exploring life in person instead of looking on from the outside in. I want him to interact with his peers from wildly different walks of life and learn more about the world. The world, his world that had been so very small has suddenly exploded into something so grand.

I also have a potential wanted connection for him to offer, in the form of his best friend Alex (who can be played male, female, or non-binary) who is also a supernatural (species up to the potential other mun) and they met playing an unnamed fantasy mmorpg. Alex brought Tyler into their group of friends and they’ve been Tyler’s main friend group ever since. Tyler has gone radio silent before, but this is something new altogether. It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the Earth and Alex fears the worst. What exactly brings Alex to the manor would be 100% up to the other mun but a reunion would absolutely be required and their future interactions and relationship is anyone’s guess!

[pens-swords-stuff]

WAIT WAIT WAIT please PLEASE TELL ME MORE ABOUT VANESSA!!!! do you have like a mood board or anything for her? like----- where can i get a description of what she looks like/read about her bc i just saw the last ask you did and read abt vanessa and i LOVE HER i think i got a crush immediately.................... im fr gonna Sob omg.

OKAY FIRST OF ALL @yeraswifey!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I wasn’t actually sure whether people read these ask games, and Vanessa is one of my newer characters that I’m sometimes concerned about so this?? honestly made my day!! this is one of the nicest things people have said to me and I’M THE ONE GOING TO CRY

So to answer some of your questions… Here’s what she looks like! Her face claim is Kassi Smith. The only other detail I would mention about her looks is that she’s about 5′7″, but she’s always wearing heels so she can look taller.

She does have an aesthetic board on pinterest here. I have to warn you though, it’s a really bad aesthetic board — one of my worst ones. I know exactly what her aesthetic is, but I haven’t managed to find the right search terms for it yet. Her pinterest board is in dire need of reconstruction, and it’ll happen at some point, so everything here is subject to change.

She also has a playlist!

So I’m really sorry in advance, because this post is going to end up long. It’s not very often I get asked to talk about an OC, and I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth. Also, she’s a part of two main WIPs I have right now, and she definitely differs in them so I’m just going to give you a rundown of both if that’s ok!

Of course, if you have any questions about her, definitely let me know! I’ll be happy to answer them.

General Vanessa facts

Here’s a couple personality paragraphs I wrote for her when I first conceptualized her:

Fiercely independent and ultimately self-serving, Vanessa exists on her own terms no matter what anyone else tells her. She breezes in and out of everything as she pleases, often finding a person or a hobby of the month due to her fickle nature. Commitment is an unfamiliar concept to her, and there is very little that she returns to regularly — feeling trapped or obligated is not something she takes to kindly. She’s power-hungry and ambitious, Notoriously shallow and indulgent, Vanessa can often be found partaking in activities that shouldn’t be mentioned in respectable conversations. She’s rather flirtatious, though she’s very careful to not reveal too much or let people in too close. Aside from a few exceptions Vanessa is very guarded, preferring the casual relationships that she’s not expected to maintain. As much as Vanessa pretends to not care, pretends that life right now is exactly what she wants, she wants to care and there’s something missing. After five centuries or so of immortality, she’s far too jaded to become involved in anything temporary — romantic or otherwise.

So that was the very first draft of her personality. She largely hasn’t changed, except I would say that she’s even more confident in herself than before, she’s more capable, and is perfectly content with her fickle lifestyle — in the newer versions of For Queen and Country, she does have a purpose and isn’t just aimlessly wandering like she was originally.

Vanessa is characterized by her utter confidence in herself, her mastery at manipulation, playful-but-deadly personality, and her intense avoidance of commitment.

She’s a very social person who can fit in anywhere, so she has a very wide network of friends and acquaintances, but she is very careful about not revealing too much about herself to people. As a general rule, she’s very independent and dislikes being tied down by anything, including romantic partners or friends. The only person she’s consistently there for and relies on is her adopted brother, Alistair (written by the amazing @decantae). He’s her best friend and confidant, and they make a fantastic team.

FQAC!Vanessa

For Queen and Country is an urban fantasy story about how the existence of supernatural creatures exist, and what happens when the human public finds out.

So in For Queen and Country, Vanessa is a vampire. She was born in Scotland several centuries ago, and was turned when she was about 34-ish to fight in a vampire war at the time. That was where she met Alistair, and when he offered her an out from the life of an immortal soldier, she took it without hesitation and they’ve been together ever since. Additionally, her surname Queen comes from Alistair as well. Although they’re close, Vanessa gets bored really easily, so while Alistair has settled down in London, Vanessa is off doing who-knows-what all over the world. She comes back to visit every 5-200 years or so though, to stay with Alistair for a while.

Her original plot in FQAC was that she was traumatized from falling in love with a human who died from disease during an epidemic. This was the cause of her commitment-phobia, and her preference for casual, physical relationships over close intimate ones. When she meets a lady fae, she would have to learn how to deal with romantic feelings that went deeper than just sexual attraction, and her subplot was mainly her freaking out and being in denial about feelings.

Now that FQAC’s plot is more focused on how Alistair’s relationship with Blake develops (his love interest, and another OC of mine) and how they work together to fight for the rights of the supernatural, her current plot is now a bit different. Here, rather than just vacationing and running away from her problems, Vanessa is actively networking with and investigating vampire societies and other supernatural creature societies all over the world. This might include a lot of shady underground stuff. Her role in the plot is now providing valuable global intel, and being an annoying sister. Although I know in my heart that if Vanessa ever does end up with anyone, it’ll be with a woman, at this point I’m not sure if she’ll have a romantic subplot because I feel like she’s completely content with being single forever.

Post-Script!Vanessa

So Post-Script is another story about Alistair and Blake — this time in a Harry Potter AU where Voldemort succeeded in killing Harry and never died.

In this WIP, Vanessa is Alistair’s adopted sister once again, except this time Alistair is a pureblood from a notable family, while Vanessa is muggleborn. She essentially plays the part of a pureblood extremely well, and if people dare to point it out, she has enough blackmail material on them to ruin them. In this universe, Vanessa is a natural legilimens. Not only is she adept at the spell of delving into someone’s mind, she’s a natural mind reader (who cannot turn it off, mind you). So she knows a lot of dirty secrets.

In Post-Script, Vanessa’s outward job is a socialite who is on the Death Eater’s sdie, but she’s actually a spy actively working against Voldemort. She’s also involved in the criminal underworld of the Wizarding Society. She doesn’t actively do traditional criminal things, but she has a lot of shady contacts, and enough blackmail material and insider knowledge to effectively navigate her way.

So yeah, if I had to sum up Vanessa:

If she had to be summarized in a trope, it would be femme fatale

She doesn’t trust anyone but Alistair, and has considerable leverage with people she suspects might turn against her via information she’s gained in various ways.

She’s easily bored, so to fix that she plays with fire.

She may seem like an out-of-control slut, but reality is she is a slut that is very under control.

She’s confident and knows exactly who she is, and can utilize that to a deadly degree.

She hates commitment and refuses to get into any serious relationships.

Vanessa likes playing with her food, so to speak. She really enjoys messing with people and getting into their heads — especially if it’s an enemy.

[thatsenoughforme]

its okay to vent the bad thoughts out sometimes!

I truly try to stay positive about everything. I can hold things in for so long but eventually it just explodes! A person can only take so much! We are all human no one is better than anyone! BUT our actions prove how much we care about others and though words should never hurt us they can make a difference in the actions we make!

For four years i have held in my thoughts, tried to take all the crap thrown at me and turn it into gold haha.... well wake up me! Crap is what it is! its not going to be a brick of gold no matter how much i wish for it!

I am weak. I easily want to cater to my man and do whatever to make him happy. I will do anything to support him, keep my mouth shut, turn into a slave, washing his feet while i suck his dick in the shower. Make him dinner, pour shots all night playing poker online, while he talks crap to everyone and show off my titties whenever he asks me too. Wake up and take him to work, pick him up no matter how far away he is. or what time of night when he has ignored me for months, i get a call at 3 am and there i am! Helping get you out of jail, and pay all your fines and classes for domstic abuse, all while your cheating on me with your kids mother that the classes were for! I can go on and on of the things i have done to prove my love, commitment, loyalty, given up so much to cater to his insecurities. Get yelled at for everything i do. Not to mention the kids thats another story! I am never enough!!!

I admit i have done wrong in life, i had a what i call single lady time when i was with a few more people than i probably should have, i dont consider myself a whore like many say i am! and while i dont care what people say about me that dont know me, it does hurt when the one who claims he loves you repeats this to you daily.

Dirty stinky whore, nasty fish cunt, stupid ass retarded mother fucker, gross dirty bitch, fat ass nasty whore, trashy cunt, rooster bc any cock will do, homey hopper, toilet seat, weirdo, stinky pussy slut, worse than the hookers down on 3rd street, diseased STD clamydia pussy, lying ass sneaky slut whore, stupid bitch! loser, worthless, good for nuthing but sucking dick, easy, weak....i can go on and on...daily...everyday i hear every since one of these things said to me.

We can fall asleep together and if i get up to go to the bathroom, or wake up before him and get out of the bed to do anything, clean, eat, watch tv downstairs so he can sleep, i am a cheating whore! if i shower and dont call him or text him a picture than i only showered bc i was cheating. When we shower i wash his whole body head to toes to butt hole to feet while im sucking his dick. I have asked to shower for 3 days before bc its already been about 3 days since we showered last! sit aorund have sex all day long for 4 days no shower and hello obvioulsy we stink!! not just me!!

There were some good times, sex always good. But other than that we did have a few fun times together. I do like his fun mean side, but there is a limit! NO one likes to be told they are a nasty worthless whore 24/7, 365 days a year! So i cant say i let this go on so long for no reason. In my head i was in love, i wanted to do everything to make both of ourlives better so we could be together. But at the end of the day i always felt like not only have i given up everything and only made myself worse while you are improving, i am also being verbal beat down every day!! made to belive i am not worth anything. i am too stupid to do anything.

Now after four years you have decided to try and be a little nicer. SO i feel bad for wanting to break up...im trying to hold on and see if this can get better. But its not....You may have stopped hitting me as often or as severe, but you quit your job once again, and at the worst time ever! Made sure to beat me down on my birthday, and promise me empty promises to make up for it. and you want me to be the bigger person and let your whole family over for your kids birthday. When i had to meet my mom at the curb so she could give me her present. You broke my phone on my face so i couldnt even see if i do have friends that care about me on my birthday, and i had to embarrisingly text my family to say this is my temporary number so they could even say happy birthday to me! I dont have a job bc you tell me in a whore, and whole i know i am not and i am great at my jb. I worked hard put my self thru school, while it may not have been for a long time, i still had to get my small child to his sgrandmas every morning at 430 to get to school on time, i do have a good family to support me but that doesnt mean i still had to put the work in. Secluded myself for years to work on my mental health and build a career for myself. Making $60 plus an hour. I gave it all up bc you wanted me too. Bc i wanted to be with you and i thought that us fighting about my job everyday and me being told im a whore everyday wasnt going to work. So i gave it up, started doordashing smh and even tho you can potentially make money doing that it was fun, but how depressing to just give up yor carreer to deliver food! and you still told me everyday that i was lying and cheating instead f doordashing.

I can sit here and try and blame you for the everything, but i know that i had a choice to leave this relationship whenever i wanted. I decided to stay and hope that things would get better. I hoped that you would not only see the good i was doing and the endless amount of time i was willing to give to change myself to be who yo uwanted me to be. Neglecting my family that only wanted to be part of ourlives too, meet you and your kids and we all just wanted to care about you. You were unable to see that i am not better than you, i just wanted better for you. You have treated me with endless amounts of disrespect, embarrassed me in public, and tore me back down mentally worse than i was before, when you knew what i have been through in the first place. I also knew who you were and i decided to look past that and see only the you that you showed and gave to me, I turned my head to almost everything you did to me.

Now that i have decided to stand up for myself and call you out everytime you hurt me, mentally physically, emotionally, materially. You not only tell me im wrong to do so and i need to learn my place, You have cowardly tried to be the better person. But letting me speak my mind and then telling me calmly that i am a nasty whore still. Just because you have shut your mouth a little more doesnt mean you have tired to help, or make anything better. Saying im sorry everyday doesnt help me feel better. You make me feel bad for wanting to be treated better. I dont need im sorry everyday, i need you to stop doing the things your saying sorry for. See me for the good like i said and realize my intentions were always true to you yur kids your family your job your friends.

Small things to show me you care. Like a kiss when i get home, a small touch when you pass by me in the kitchen. Tell me in pretty, it might sounds stupid but it matters! I know i didnt touch you or kiss you or treat you the way i wanted to the past few week. But i was tired of being the better person, i was tired of turning my cheek to what you did to me to hug you and kiss your body while you rarely touched me back. Too occupied on your phone to every see me or give me your full attention. Unless of course i was sucking your dick or letting you fuck me in all my holes. smh you know what thats from. throw me off when your done and right back to the dirty worthless whore i am.

I am better than your words, i am better than the way you see me. I am better than what you tell your kids about me, and how confusing for them when they tell me how much fun they have with me. Bc i am nice to them!! Not only am i enough but so is my son. We arent better than anyone but we treat everyone with respect and that doesnt make us a pussy!!!

And while i know this is only a small portion of my side of the story, i am able to admit my flaws and any wrong i did in this relationship. I am not willing to admit that i am the reason it failed! Bc i was willing to trying and save this no matter what it took. I knew that once i put my foot down you would give up on me. You cant hear your flaws and fix them, you hear your flaws and blame them on everyone else and never try to fix it. pointing out every flaw in everyone around you instead of just being happy with yourself and growing and building a loving house like i was trying.

I have had enough, I have given enough, i am enough!!!!!!

[readysetwellness-blog]

Mental Health: What everyone is talking about… and no one is talking about

Mental health is a hot topic lately, and it seems as though more and more people are beginning to understand what mental health and self-care is, although many are still undereducated about these topics. Mental health is a touchy subject that can be taken advantage of very easily, with people claiming to have anxiety, depression, or other mental health issues and using them as excuses or, as we see a lot with millenials and the younger generation, attention. It has become increasingly popular among young people to self diagnose themselves with mental health conditions and display these on social media (particularly twitter) in an effort to increase sympathy likes and retweets. Phrases like “oh I’m so OCD about my bed being made” or “Watching that boy do tricks on his bike gives me anxiety” are so normalized, and we forget that these are actual conditions that can be extremely debilitating.

I know what you’re thinking: “So how am I supposed to know the difference between someone who really has a mental health condition and someone who is self diagnosed or just claims to have it?”

Unfortunately, I don’t have the answer to this. No one does. Mental health is such a touchy subject, and with anxiety, depression, and attention deficit disorders on the rise, it is likely that many people claiming to have these disorders have a clinical diagnosis to back it up. On another note, who is going to call someone out for “faking” a mental health disease? Not me. And probably not you. But what we can do is show compassion, and understand that everyone that we cross paths with is fighting a battle that we know nothing about.

Although not every person experiences symptoms of chronic mental illness, everyone goes through times of great happiness, sorrow, grief, stress, and pain. It is for these reasons that it is important to understand the importance of self-care.

What is self-care you might ask? Well, its important to know what self-care is as well as what it isn’t. Self-care, in a few words, is an action one takes to benefit their own mental, physical, or emotional health. This will vary among individuals, but there are many different forms of self-care. For some, it could be refusing the chocolate cake at the office birthday party because they’re trying to stick to their new meal plan. For others, it might be indulging in the chocolate cake because it is their birthday (or they have created some other reason in their minds that justifies cake). Whatever it is, the most important thing to remember regarding your personal self-care is that you have to make sure whatever self-care action you decide to take is best for YOU. What works for some people might not work for others, and what works for you may not work for your friends.  

So while this idea of self-care is a nice one, it is not something that is completed by eating a cookie and taking a bubble bath. The idea of self-care penetrates much deeper than cheering yourself up after a bad day, or buying some new face wash. Self-care is about the way you live your life, and the effect that it has on your health. Everything that you experience in a day whether it is mental, emotional or physical has an effect on your health, which can be positive, negative, or neutral. Failing to take care of ourselves and recognize the stressors in our life is what leads to lasting, chronic conditions like depression, anxiety, OCD, and other mental health issues. Self-care is about tapping into your own mind and body, making sense of the way you are feeling, and taking action to right any wrongs that may be present.

We move so quickly through life that sometimes we forget to stop and evaluate how we are feeling, why we feel the way that we do, and what we can do to change it.

So all of that being said, where should you start on your self-care journey? Here are 5 tips to start integrating mindfulness and self-care into your daily life.

1. Start keeping inventory on your feelings

Take stock of how you feel. You don’t have to go so deep as to why you are feeling the way you are, but just recognize what emotion you are experiencing. This will assist you in making decisions. For example, if you are under a lot of stress in your personal life and you recognize that, it might help you realize you should hold off one more day on a major work decision. Or on the other hand, if you just got the best news of your life and are extremely excited, you might want to say yes, yes and yes to all of the plans your friends have made for this upcoming weekend to celebrate, but you should maybe only go out one night because you have a lot to get done before Monday. This goes along with the saying “never act out of anger”, and “sleep on it”. Recognizing and categorizing (stress, anger, sadness) the emotions you are feeling is the first step to taking action against any negative effects these feelings may have.

2. Isolate yourself for 10 minutes a day

This is the time to reflect on your day and understand why these emotions came over you. You may think that you were stressed all day at work because your boss sent out a memo in the morning that bothered you, when really it was coming from an argument with your significant other that occurred the day before. This is the time to identify the emotional triggers in your life— defined as “a response to a person, situation, event, dialogue, reading, film, or other content providing entity, that provokes a strong emotional reaction. This will help you avoid (or at least regulate your exposure to) the things that are causing emotions like stress, sadness, and grief. For example, if you have a family member in the armed forces, maybe you should not indulge in the overwhelming amount of military homecoming videos available on YouTube. On the contrary, for someone who recently had a family member or someone close to them return from the military, these videos may be one of their favorite things to watch. This time is about identifying YOUR emotional triggers and developing ways to manage them.

3. Figure out what makes YOU feel good.

This one is all about discovering the little things that you enjoy. Maybe its buying a new book and setting apart a little bit of time each day to read. Maybe its spending time with your “outside-of-work friends”, or maybe even scheduling a date night with your S/O (or your best friend if you’re still on the market). The point is, look for the little things in your life that make you happy, and do those things for yourself more. They don’t have to cost money, and they certainly do not have to involve others. Remember: this is all about YOU and the things that make YOU feel good.

4. Watch what you say

We need to change the way we talk about mental health. Try to remove the words OCD, depression/depressed, and anxiety from your vocabulary, and instead use some other words to describe how you feel. So instead of saying “Ugh im so depressed”, “That gives me anxiety” or “I’m super OCD about that”, try expanding your vocabulary with words like this:

Instead of saying depressed, say:

-    Sad

-    Unhappy

-    Despondent

-    Down

-    Low

-    Bummed out

Instead of saying anxiety, say:

-    apprehension

-    angst

-    jitters

-    nervousness

-    concern

-    heebie-jeebies (my personal favorite)

Instead of saying OCD, say:

-    Particular

-    Precise

-    Detail oriented

-    Anal retentive

-    Fusspot

-    Nit-picker

5. Talk to a medical professional

Finally, if you are experiencing severe symptoms or symptoms that you feel are beyond your control, please do not hesitate to reach out to a healthcare professional near you to seek support. Sometimes mental health issues are out of our hands, and self-care is not enough. Great strength is found in reaching out to someone for help, and the most beneficial person is going to be a mental health counselor, psychiatrist, or psychologist. If you’re not comfortable reaching out to a professional, try talking to a friend or two about how you have been feeling, as talking about it and having two heads trying to make sense of your feelings can be helpful.

Mental health is very touchy, tricky, and for the most part, taboo. I hope that this post has provided you with—if nothing else— a little bit of insight on the growing challenge that many people are facing today. Even if you are not experiencing any great stressors in your life, try out these tips, as there is always room for improvement!

Thank you so much for reading, and as always, happy living J

P.S. Check out this link below for a short youtube video about OCD!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FsOzNavYF6wse

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