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bonecorn · 3 years

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I love your anatomy/references posts & I love skulls and skeletons & I would love to know how you convince people to give you their animal heads to clean. Also any bone cleaning tips for suburban areas?? When I was living on a farm it was easy to leave stuff out and let the bugs take care of it but my parents said hard no to dead things bleaching on the porch

Oh this is very easy!

Find a friend or acquaintance with land and leave your stuff there. Bug cleaning and tub maceration don't need a lot of hands-on attendance so you can check in however often you like.

There's also "hot water maceration" where you simmer (dont boil!) fresh heads in hot water and remove the cooked meat by hand. Make sure you scramble the brains first and then cook away inside or with a camping stove on the porch. And "bleaching" which is done with hydrogen peroxide can be done inside since the skulls are already clean by then anyway.

I don't actually convince people to give me their pets. For livestock, I ask because most people aren't emotionally attached to their livestock.

For pets, I wait to be offered the remains. More on that under the cut.

TLDR: Know the pet owner, wait to be offered bodies rather than asking. Make sure they are always in control. Ask for livestock no problem. Don't let scavengers eat euthanized meat.

holy crap lol

I don't ask for pet bodies. The trick is to be very open and excited about what you do so that people who know you know about bones and know that you are respectful of animal remains. Then, when a beloved pet dies, they might think about you.

Open up the conversation on death before it's relevant

You can also plant the seed ahead of time during a conversation about bones while the pet in question is alive and healthy. "Sometimes I do pets if their owner is ok with it, though most want to bury. Have you ever thought about that for Baxter?" It's in SUPER poor taste to do this while an animal is dying, when you'll need to be way more tactful.

Know your friend well enough to guess their feelings on it

It SUPER depends on the person and how they view bodies and death. My ex's dog passed away and he was always queasy about corpses. I comforted him and cried with him while his beloved 15 year old dog declined and passed. I didn't ask or even mention it because I knew him enough to know that he would say no, and that asking would be painful and upsetting for him to think about. Same with my dear friend and her 20 year old cat. She had a beautiful pet graveyard with headstones and everything. You just know not to ask some people because traditionally laying bodies to rest is important to them.

Other pet owners are chill about it, ESPECIALLY if they come from a livestock background. Livestock people are used to sending their animals to be recycled into glue and wax when they die, because it's generally not feasible to bury or cremate a horse. If someone does plan to take that on, you know they are absolutely dedicated to traditional burial and won't give you anything.

Make it their choice to offer, rather than it being your request

Anyway. If you know the person, and you know they might be ok with giving up their pet's body due to how they view bodies and death, then you work on making them think about you. First, you comfort and do everything you can to help the person through their grief. If you weren't already planning on doing that, then you have no business asking for their pet. Do not comfort someone in order to get something out of them. That's disgusting. Just straight up ask them for their pet and know that they will view you as tactless and rude, but its better than manipulating them.

What I do is not manipulation, it's reminding people what you do and then letting them make their own decisions. When your friend is feeling a little better and is not crying, you can ask about logistics. I ask "What do you plan to do for burial/with the body?" and that usually makes them think about me and what I do with bodies. If they already have a meaningful spot picked out to bury or scatter/keep ashes, then that means the body is important to them and I shouldn't ask further.

At this point, they should realize what you could use the body for and think about how they feel about that. This is when my sister (who has a livestock background) offered her dog to me. We talked about how she thought of bodies, and she thought that the soul is the only thing that matters and once her dog passes there's nothing important left. I did not say anything to convince her, these were all her own thoughts.

It's very VERY important to respect and love the pet owner because they're extremely vulnerable and emotionally raw. That's why I don't straight up ask, because when you're losing a pet, you don't want to feel like someone is trying to gain something from you.

If your friend says they don't know or haven't decided what to do for the body, you can gently say "Let me know if you want me to help bury it, to take it with me, or to just be there for you." This is a close-ended statement and not a question. A question means that your friend has to come up with an answer right there and then, while an offer is actionable. This puts the power and autonomy in your friend's hands, so that when they make a decision it comes fully from their wants and needs and is not about you and what you want.

Be there for them even if you get nothing out of it

If they don't offer at this point, they're not going to. Now hold up your end of the bargain and continue to comfort and help through the grieving process. Again, if you aren't already invested in this person enough to want to soothe and comfort and be there for the human person in the equation, then you have no business asking for their pet. When a pet dies, your first concern should be to the person. If it's not, then you aren't close enough to ask for goodies.

Helping someone grieve is not payment for their pet's body. If you realize they aren't going to give you something in return for your comfort and so you abandon them, you're a terrible person using their grief to manipulate them for your own gain. Comfort is not payment. Closeness in grief is a metric by which you measure "Do I have any business to ask?"

The pet owner runs the show, not you

Throughout this process, stress that the owner can change their mind at any time. You don't want the owner to think "I hate this but I can't back out now because I promised..." Even when they animal is all wrapped up an in your vehicle and ready to go, quietly tell the owner that they can still choose what happens and if they have second thoughts, that's ok and you won't be mad.

My sister let me be there for putting her dog down and it was all about her and her love for her dog. She carried him out and laid him in my trunk and we stood in the rain and talked and hugged. She then told me she was happy that he could bring happiness to someone in life and now still in death, but that she didn't want to know anything. I agreed not to tell her or post anything about processing her dog, so for her it would be like burial. The same thing happened with my other friend's horse. She spent some time with him and then as soon as he passed she drove away and let me do what I wanted. She didn't want to hear Any of it. Again, I didn't ask or even offer, she came up with the idea of giving me the body all on her own even before I knew he was dying.

Horse people are much closer to pet owners than livestock owners, but they are used to sending their friend's bodies off to a different kind of processing (at Tallow factories, livestock remains are ground up, cut apart, cooked, and spun around to extract various substances that become soap, glue, candles, etc) so they know not to think about what happens after death. It still depends on how well you know the owner and know how they think about death, but if you offer to handle logistics like dealing with the tallow guy, they can actually save money by letting you have it.

You're actually doing livestock a favor

Livestock people are generally chill and have a much more utility/asset view of their animals. If the animal doesn't even have a name they probably don't care what happens when it's dead. In fact, most farmers will jump at the chance to give you their animal for free because calling the tallow company to haul it away costs them money. This is also why in areas with lots of livestock, you sometimes find bodies dumped in ditches or left on the side of the road, because the farmer didn't want to pay to get rid of it so they made it everyone else's problem. Even pet animals like dogs and cats are more Utility than pure companions on a farm, so you might have a better chance of getting remains from a farmer than a neighbor.

One more thing about pets and livestock.

When I find a dead deer, I flay it open and let the vultures eat it. For domestic animals, they are often put to sleep via chemical/drug.

THIS IS POISONOUS TO SCAVENGERS.

DO NOT LET SCAVENGERS EAT EUTHANIZED ANIMALS

Seriously. If you like nature, you need to protect it. Deflesh it yourself, throw all the meat/blood/offal away or bury it 6 feet down. Idk what it does to the environment so I always freeze it and then throw it away on garbage day.

Rot bacteria and beetle larvae dermestids don't mind. In fact, dermestid droppings and pupa shells can be analyzed for toxins by forensic scientists to determine cause of death. Neat! Just make sure that if you process outdoors, the remains are EXTREMELY SECURE and cannot be opened by vultures, coyotes, or wild pigs.

Remember the living, human person

I know I look very clinical by picking apart human emotions, but I respond, feel, love, and grieve just like everyone else. I didn't plan how to get any of the animals in the above stories, I just acted on instinct and these are the ones where that paid off well.

Most of the time if I go "huh. I feel that may not go over well" I can then take that feeling apart and figure out why. So hopefully explaining how my feelings work it can help you listen to your most useful and most compassionate ones.

The living person is always more important than a dead pet. Sometimes you can get the dead pet without distressing your friend, sometimes you shouldn't even try.

Respecting the dead

A final note on working with pets vs wild animals. This is someone's family member, so don't play puppet with it like you might with a skunk skin. Don't take pictures of any part of the process until they are rendered to bones. Pictures of dead pet species are even more distressing to the general public than wild animals, and sick freaks might take your photos and send them to people for kicks or attention. Better to just not have photos than for that to happen.

What processing a pet feels like

Working on a pet is always going to be different for you, the vulture, than a wild animal. Everything you see is touched by human hands. My sister's dog was... beautiful. You don't really realize how moved you're going to be by seeing the perfect amount of healthy fat covering, or beautiful muscles that speak of exercise and attention. She rescued this starving pup and turned him into the healthiest animal I have ever seen. She's a vet assistant and the care and love she put into this dog had me sitting there crying while I held his paws; with their perfectly maintained clipped and sanded nails. I'd only met the dog once for a few minutes when he was alive, but his body was a canvas and every inch was painted with layers and layers of love. It made me so, so sad that his neurological issues couldn't be helped because his body was proof of someone who would stop at nothing to cure what could be cured, and that the last months of his life were happier than he ever imagined.

On the flip side, pets whose bodies show signs of neglect and abuse are going to hit you harder than any deer could. The dog I found discarded in a garbage bag on the side of the road had rotten teeth and nails so long they curled over themselves into hoops. An overgrown and suffering deer is just the sign of nature taking its course. An overgrown and suffering dog is the sign of human cruelty, of shirked responsibility.

Most pets you get will between these two dogs. No owner is perfect. Most old dogs have lost teeth to rot, sick cats too weak to scratch properly may have overgrown nails.

Death as beauty

A pet's body usually a beautiful story full of ups and downs; of owners doing things wrong and then doing things right. A vulture or an artist can read a body like rings on a tree and feel the heart beat in their chest that tells them how strong and full of love this life had been. You need to be ready for this part. Every detail is a message from your fellow human and even though we are all animals and we decompose into the same dirt, we're meant to connect to each other here and now.

Keep your emotions open when working with remains.

Listen to what they have to teach you.

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urdearestmom · 4 years

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brain damage

i’m back again y’all and just wrote this piece... a bit of a scene study from that scene in 3x06. basically what i wish mike had said

also the middle part is mostly conjecture but some of it is bits that you can hear in the actual scene if you strain your ears and ignore nancy and jonathan talking over it

also DISCLAIMER i do not hate max!! i really like her actually but she was really pissing me off with this whole bit because she just does not have any basis for understanding mileven's relationship and so her advice doesn't always directly apply. she had good intentions but BRUH. anyways i could go on a whole rant about max vs mike in season 3 but i'm not gonna do that right now lmao

It’s pretty silent in here, El thinks. It always is, but tonight it’s… strange. Almost as though it’s empty. Why can’t she find them? She’s been sitting in her room for the last half hour trying to locate any of the flayed and although she can’t see it, she knows there’s a growing mountain of bloody tissues next to her on the floor. She’s starting to think that she might need to give herself a break for a little bit.

Her friends are in the living room waiting for her, and she knows they’re all anxious to find out what she might see. So far, absolutely nothing. The only thing that happens is that every so often she hears a bit of a voice. It’s just there, tickling the edges of her consciousness, and she could tune into it if she wanted to… but she’s already identified it by the cadence of the noise as Mike’s voice, and she’d said she wouldn’t spy on him. She’d done it once and he was clearly upset by it. Although they aren’t really back to how they were before, El misses him more than she lets on, and she doesn’t want to make things worse by spying again.

Outside, Mike is getting close to yelling. He sincerely hopes El can’t hear him because he is once again fighting with her new best friend.

“It can’t be good for her to be in there for this long,” he exclaims, pacing in front of her door.

“Mike, you need to relax,” says Max, looking disdainfully at him.

“What if she gets brain damage or something?!”

“Oh shit,” interrupts Lucas, looking between them. “Is that like, a real thing?”

Max scoffs. “No, it’s not. He made it up. Mike doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” she adds, raising her eyebrows defiantly as if daring him to refute her.

“Oh, and you do?! ” He retorts. Her facial expression alone is pissing him off. It’s so self-righteous, as if she knows anything at all about him or how he thinks and feels.

“No,” she says quickly. “But I think El does. See, that’s the difference between you and me. You think you know everything!”

“I don’t know everything,” he fires back. His hands are balled into fists and he’s starting to shake. “But I know her.”

Max snorts. “You’re just mad she wants to be her own person. You can’t deal with other people not doing what you tell them to.”

“What do you think this is, Russia? I’m not some dictator, okay? I’m just trying to protect El!” He says angrily. This is getting more and more ridiculous by the second. Max doesn’t know the first thing about what he can or can’t deal with and acting like she does is striking his last nerve. Mike can feel the familiar boil of rage deep within him coming to a rise.

“The only person who knows anything about El’s powers is El,” says Max, with an air of finality.

Mike crosses his arms in an attempt to get himself in control of his emotions. “So if that’s true, what makes you think you have any more of a say than I do?”

She splutters for a moment and it’s so satisfying that Mike almost smirks, but it drops quickly when Max rises from her seat and stalks over to him.

“I don’t,” she seethes, poking him forcefully in the chest. “But she does, and you need to back off .”

“I’m not even on! ” He yells, throwing his arms up and pushing her away. He realizes his statement doesn’t actually make any sense but… whatever. At this point, it’s not like it matters. “She won’t listen to me! Because you put ideas in her head! You know she absorbs every new thing people tell her and you pressured her into dumping me!”

There it is. It’s out. It’s what he’s been thinking since it happened. He knew he’d messed up big-time by lying to El, but he never would have expected her to dump him over it. And the look on Max’s face as she stood by and watched had said everything he needed to know.

Max’s face is turning an alarming shade of pink and Mike thinks that he probably matches her. “I didn’t pressure her into anything, she decided! What is your problem with letting El decide things for herself?!”

“I don’t have a problem! At least I didn’t before you inserted yourself where you didn’t need to be!”

“All I did was give her choices!”

Mike takes a deep breath to retaliate, but then lets it go and turns away. “You don’t understand. Just- fucking leave me alone.”

Lucas is still staring at them; Mike can feel his friend’s eyes on his back. Why isn’t he agreeing? He was there when El- he knows what she can push herself to.

Max makes an angry noise. “Fine! It’s not my fault you can’t be wrong!” She walks toward Nancy and Jonathan and Mike follows, preparing to convince everyone else that this is a stupid idea. “Okay, can you guys settle an argument for us?”

Nancy looks hard at them, her eyes searching Mike quickly before flicking back to the girl next to him.

“Who do you think should decide El’s limits… Mike, or Eleven?”

He sees red. “The way that you framed that is such bullshit. ” Why is he the villain here?!

Her braids whip around her face as she turns to him. “It’s not bullshit, Mike, this is your whole problem! And it’s also precisely the reason why she dumped your ass!”

“El dumped you?” Nancy asks incredulously.

Mike throws his arms up again. “Yeah, because she’s conspiring against me! She’s corrupting her!”

“N- enlightening her!” Max throws back. “The fact is, she’s not yours. She’s her own person, fully capable of making her own decisions.”

“She’s risking her life for no reason!” He shouts.

“No reason?” Says Nancy. “Mike, the flayed are out there doing god knows what-”

“Killing, flaying,” interjects Lucas.

“Transforming into monsters,” adds Will.

Mike glares at them. Not helping.

“And El’s not stupid,” Nancy continues, shaking her head. “She knows her abilities better than any of us.”

“Exactly, thank you,” Max says victoriously. Mike closes his eyes. He cannot believe this is how this is going.

“And she is her own person-”

“Exactly!”

“With her own free will-”

“Exactly! El has saved the world twice and Mike still doesn’t trust her-”

At that he has to interrupt. There’s no way he’s letting Max flip this around. “You wanna talk about trust, really? After you made Eleven spy on us?!”

Max looks down, giving herself away.

Lucas stands up behind him. “Wait, what?”

Mike whirls to face him. “Oh, she didn’t tell you this?” He says sarcastically.

“No!”

“Your girlfriend used El’s powers to spy on us ,” he spits.

“No, no, no,” Max interjects. “I did not make her, it was her idea. And why are we even talking about this, seriously?”

“Yeah,” says Will. “Who cares?”

And now Mike’s annoyed at Will too. Will has no idea what is going on in Mike’s head and he’s not ever going to understand why he feels the way he does. Just the same as the rest of the Party will never really relate to Will’s struggles because they weren’t there, Will wasn’t there for theirs either. He didn’t see what she did-

“I care!” Says Lucas, and finally Mike is glad someone seems to be on his side. Thank God for small blessings.

“Yeah, I guess girlfriends don’t lie, they spy,” he says, turning back to Max at the last moment so she can truly see his ire.

“We were just joking around,” she defends.

“Would it have been so funny if I was taking a massive shit or something?” He asks.

She wrinkles her nose. “You weren’t!”

“But what if I was?!”

“Then gross!”

“Seriously, Mike?” Interrupts Nancy, and all of a sudden this has become like one of those moments where he just wants to strangle her for talking before he’s done. She does it all the fucking time and like, he guesses it’s probably part of being siblings but it leaves him fuming more often than not.

“I’m just trying to demonstrate how careless Max is with Eleven’s powers,” he says carefully. This is where he needs to get his point across. He desperately needs someone to understand that he’s not trying to be controlling or police what El does or doesn’t do, he’s just trying to save her from herself. He couldn’t do it the first time, but by God if he isn’t going to try now.

“Have any of you noticed Lucas is the only one not disagreeing with me?” He asks.

Max huffs. “Lucas doesn’t have anything to do with this. This is your prob-”

“Lucas has everything to do with this!” He roars. Mike has absolutely had it up to here with her and turns on her a final time, shaking again. “You weren’t there, Max! None of you were. Except Lucas. You don’t know what she’ll do..” His voice trembles.

Lucas seems to understand what he’s getting at and lays a hand on his shoulder. Mike flashes him a grateful look. He still has a hard time thinking about that night, much less talking about it. “She vaporized herself in front of us. I tried to stop her and she did it anyway.”

The room is silent now, the only sound being the TV static from El’s bedroom where she’s still holed up. Mike takes a breath.

“It’s not that I think El doesn’t know her limits,” he says. “I just know that she doesn’t care about them. She’ll die overexerting herself before she lets something hurt one of us.”

He looks up at everyone, Jonathan and Will looking oddly similarly out of place and Nancy with her eyes trained on his face as she listens. Max isn’t looking at him. Good , he thinks. Maybe that made her feel guilty.

“How would you feel if you knew firsthand El didn’t care about dying to save her friends, huh? Wouldn’t you be worried about her?” He directs this at Max specifically, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “You guys are treating her like some kind of machine, and she’s not a machine. I still have nightmares about that day all the time.”

The room stays silent, almost as though everyone is holding a breath and waiting for him to start yelling again, but he’s not going to. He doesn’t have any energy left to expound on this topic. If Max wants to keep making him the bad guy, then whatever. He has more important things to worry about.

“I just-” He starts and stops, wondering if this is the right thing to say. “I don’t want her to die looking for the flayed when they’ve obviously vanished off the face of the Earth, so we can we please just come up with another plan because I love her and I can’t lose her again.”

Now it’s almost as though all the air has actually been sucked out of the room. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to reveal the depth of his feelings, but Mike really didn’t know what else he could say that could possibly make them understand his position. Lucas’ hand on his shoulder squeezes for a quick second and then lightly taps him as Lucas moves his arm back.

Nancy shakes her head. “I get that you don’t want her to hurt herself, Mike, but she’s already in there. There’s not much else we can do.”

“What’s going on?”

Everyone whips around to face El coming out of her bedroom doorway. Holy shit, did she hear what he said? Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit-

“Nothing. Nothing!” He says quickly.

“Just… family discussion,” adds Lucas from behind him. Mike can feel the smirk in his voice without even having to look at him.

“Oh,” says El, and suddenly Mike really wants to hug her. But this isn’t the time. He looks away.

“I found him,” she continues.

“Found… who?” Nancy asks.

“Billy.”

#stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things fanfiction #urdearestmom #brain damage #reimagined #3x06 #mileven #mike wheeler

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whitherliliesbloom · 4 years

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feelings a quiver

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ my writings ] ★ [ prompt #02 - sway ] [ alphinaud/wol ] ★ [ 1,612 words ] ★ [ heavensward & stormblood spoilers ]

alphinaud leveilleur, alisaie leveilleur, haurchefant greystone, tataru taru, a couple other npcs & brief mentions of certain friend’s ocs

time does nothing to soothe his wayward heart

Certainly, a diplomat knew better than anyone else that words sometimes held more power than the razor edge of a sword. What mountain can be moved by a mere one man alone? And what nation was built upon the lack of communication?

He thrived on the sway his words could have, the power to shape the future as he so chose by the skillful flay of his own tongue.

And yet as much as he was a man of a thousand words, so too were his compatriots as they witnessed his embarrassingly tongue-tied state in the presence of a single, equally silent lalafellin girl.

Alphinaud had thought little of this heartburn when it first manifested, and naively brushed off the remarks Ysayle and Estinien would make as the group huddled around a crackling fireplace. His eyes had lingered upon her, curled up over a timeworn tarp as the chilly dravanian wind made her bangs lightly sway. She’d clutched tightly onto a fire aspected crystal upon her chest, but he finds the furrowing of his brows not to be a consequence of envy over her source of warmth, but worry.

“Fancy the Warrior of Light, do you?”

Estinien was the first ever to realize - even when he himself had been terribly oblivious to the incessant throbbing of his chest. And when the young elezen dared to express his denial, words spoken carelessly in a feeble stammer, Ysayle could not help but to chime in with her own words.

“It is true that you do seem oddly drawn to her.”

It will never feel odd to remember the way upon which Estinien and Ysayle first shared their first moment of comradery over their shared beliefs in feelings Alphinaud had not even realized he possessed, and even more strange would be the echoes of those sentiments from every corner of his life from then on.

“Have you not told her how you feel, Master Alphinaud?”

Even bedridden as he was, it did not stop the patient from beaming enthusiastically up at his flushed visitor. And had it not been for the unspoken etiquette of keeping silence within an infirmary, he would have certainly proclaimed his lack of intent. It’s evident no near death experience would stop Haurchefant from exerting his own pressure onto his flustered, inexperienced junior.

That perhaps was for the better, for a pair of mismatched eyes parked permanently by the knight’s side glared such daggers Alphinaud believed for a moment it’d split his skull apart.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell her! What happens if — s-something happens? And then you’ll never get to tell her at all — “

The absurdity of Laurelis’ spontaneous fountain of tears had done wonders, at least in the way of causing Alphinaud to feel an insurmountable amount of guilt. He had not come to be lectured, nor did he expect to leave the infirmary actually having the ridiculous notion of considering their words seriously. And yet he did, and unwillingly took the almost tragic way his friends’ romance had nearly ended as example for his need for urgency.

Nidhogg’s death taught him to self-reflect, beyond crippling guilt he’d have to drown out with a swig of piping hot tea, that is. And beyond the specks of red that left a painful trail of memories amongst a sea of snow white.

But there was always a tender violet hue, a glistening of lavender and mauve stars that shone up and reflected within their crystalline glow his hopes and dreams in life so brightly that he was always momentarily blinded from his shortcomings. And that songbird voice always called his name so sweetly, so innocently. He never knew when he’d started becoming reliant on that euphony to push himself further, to become more than he already was.

He’s come to accept his worsening heart condition, and yet could not help but wonder if it was fine to let it fester in her presence. Perhaps he’d let himself heal with ignorance, a cold shoulder, and ridiculous beliefs that someone of her talent and status could never understand or feel the same as him.

Alisaie would have none of that. Her voice and words, even to this day, remain the loudest and most grating of them all.

“I caught you staring at her! You aren’t fooling anyone, you know. Well, except for her.. How in the twelve are you two so bloody stupid?!”

Dearest sister always claimed to not be as good with words as he was. Quicker to draw the blade than she was a quill, she was. But she’s spoken a million words more than he about his feelings, echoed his heartbeat as if it had been completely unrestrained. She saw no point in his need for secrecy, and it always felt as if she’d pressure everyone else they knew into saying the same.

“You two are always staring at each other like a married couple, aren’t you? Nobody would ever believe the pair of you aren’t an item.”

He prays desperately whenever Elletha is present to hover around beside them, believing if anyone were to tell the cause of his unstable heart the truth of his feelings.

“Do ya plan on keeping her in the dark forever??”

Even a certain dragoon, a woman whose motto had been to thrust her spear quicker than she was to stop and think had begun to pressure him, looming over his left shoulder like a dark cloud as Alisaie pressed over his right. They’d formed a formidable team indeed, passing snide remarks if they caught his gaze lingering upon the back of silken long white hair for even a second too long.

Yet like the lovesick fool he was, he could not bring himself to swear off looking at her, or thinking of her for that matter. He was certain he’d die from the palpitations of his wayward heart, regardless of the words his friends, and his own conscious would spout out at him.

What was more painful? He’d asked himself.. Tearing apart the trust and friendship he’d painstakingly built with the most wonderful woman alive, a woman he’d hurt and mistreated once so many shameful summers ago.. or to swallow his heart whole and let himself stew in this aching sensation, hearing nothing but ‘what ifs’ clog every corner of his mind.

“If you wait too long, Alphinaud.. you may one day be too late to regret it.”

Tataru was always more sensible than he, despite what his qualifications would have one believe. She’d been telling him these very words in too many different rhymes and rhythms than he could count, worried more about the state of his basically nonexistent romantic status than she had been even her own. The secretary was pushy, almost as much so as his sister had been.

And yet she also understood him, stood by him as long as the Warrior of Light had. She’d watched his transformation, the metamorphosis of what was once the slight skip of his heartbeat into an unbearable, terminal and crippling enamor. And she’s seen what a broken heart looked like, saw what men and women wreaked with guilt became, and heard their helpless cries that always echoed their regrets of being too late.

Alphinaud had nearly became that man, he was certain of that when he’d arrived to the House of the Fierce only to find the Warrior of Light missing and heard of her plans to confront the Imperial Legatus.

He had thought his days of taking her strength and willpower for granted over, two whole summers over. Ravana, Bismarck and Niddhogg had not taught him a single thing, nor did the warnings of his friends that rang louder in his ear than ever before. And he was going to pay for it with the death of his heart he could have prevented had he just spoken.

He knew not how many second chances fate would grant him, pleaded woefully despite knowing his lack of a right to. But he continued to pray anyway, and he swore upon the words he was told by everyone his life, past, present and future that he’d craft words of his own for once. What good was a diplomat who could not speak? What good were words when they were left unspoken?

The Warrior of Light survived. Barely, but she survived and escaped. The dark gash over her collar bone still haunts him to this day, a reminder of when he’d nearly lost everything. But it was also a reminder of the first words he’d spoken from his heart to her, ones that allowed him to witness the swirling of those violet nebulas before him closer than ever, and to hear his favorite melody whisper her own words of sugar into his ear.

Yanxia was hardly the most scenic place for a confession. Had Alphinaud the choice, he would have most certainly chosen somewhere more picturesque, presented the girl with a large bouquet of her favorite floral arrangement, dressed to the nines and with eyes that weren’t clearly bloodshot from his earlier shedding of tears.

He’d at the very least prepared a script, mentally written and rewritten his lengthy prose addressed to her so many times over he’d memorized what he wanted to say word for word.

But he’s left transfixed as he stares at her, and sees his future staring right back at him. Alphinaud is left speechless once more, like the foolish, failure of a negotiator he is. And all he can think of saying is what the little cracks of his heart has wanted to say for so, so long now.

“I love you, Illya.”

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2020 #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #fanfic #mine #we've come so far #kiwisffxivwrite2020 #hahahah HSAHAHAHHA I WENT OUT OF HANDDDD #ffxivwrite

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raidbossmadi · 4 years

Text

Rough Patch

Early CoV

Tyreen paced up and down the length of the Cathedral infirmary waiting room. She was glad that aside from the glass door, the walls of the room were thick metal. The God-Queen couldn’t be caught nervously wringing her hands as she paced like a captive lion. Not that she looked like the God-Queen when she was draped in a too big hooded jacket over a thin tank top, however she couldn’t settle down or stop herself. Troy was in surgery; perhaps the most extensive operation he’d been through besides breaking his jaw when they were teenagers.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that it would be ok, that this was necessary. It wasn’t his fault he was so fragile, a fact that had been repeated to her by her parents since they’d been born back on Nekrotafeyo. She’d always had to be strong while she watched their parents dote over him, their mother boosting him with her own siren energy when he was running low. Tyreen had never been sickly, only catching a cold once or twice in her childhood,and she had never been severely injured before the incident with the guardians.It had always been so hard to wrap her head around the fact that her twin brother, who had once even been a part of her could be so sickly in return.

It was for that reason that Tyreen was grateful when Allison had sat her down and explained in great detail what they would be doing to Troy in this operation. She had been the one to catch that the scrap contraption Troy called a right arm was pulling his spine out of alignment and exacerbating a congenital defect in his vertebra. Without this operation the damage would worsen,and the neurological symptoms would become unavoidable. Allison had also gotten Troy to agree to getting a neural port installed so that he could actually use the arm instead of just hanging off him like the hunk of scrap it was.

None of that helped now,though,she was still anxious about what was going on beyond the waiting room door. In her mind, images flashed of her brother flayed open on a cold operation table picked through like an animal being dissected. Their fathers' warnings of what the corporations would do to them repeated over these images. She hated how the infirmary smelled, so sterile and clean. It felt fake like that, especially here on Pandora. Nothing should be this clean not even if it was a medical practice.

Tyreen stopped her pacing and shook her head, this was ridiculous. Allison Spectra was the woman who had saved them when she had been sure Troy was about to die in the Promethean slums. She had been their doctor for years at this point there was no reason to think she would suddenly be untrustworthy, especially when she’d brought in one of the best neurosurgeons in the six galaxies to aid in the operation. Troy was literally in the most capable hands he could be in, she just needed to relax.

She sat down in the chair she had left her bag on and fished out her echo-phone. Everyone in the Inner Circle knew what was going on, and Juni had assured her that they would handle things until Troy was stable. Tyreen still couldn’t help but check in on the morning reports, Jaxon had just finished leading the sermon. While it was a relief that the Children of the Vault could run itself without her constant supervision. Tyreen felt like it was all she had control of in this moment. If she truly needed to, she could phone Juni and have her do whatever she needed done, of course she knew that she should just let it rest, for now, and focus on the things at hand but it was comforting to know that one thing at least was always in her control.

She did however open the channel she used to talk to all the department heads. The moment her icon took a green aura indicating she was online she immediately got pinged by Juni.

Juniper (Marketing) : TYREEN! Turn it off!

Juniper (Marketing): You promised you’d look after yourself, micromanaging us isn’t looking after yourself Tyreen. I can handle things while you worry about yourself and Troy, Jaxon is on the alert too she promised to handle anything that comes her way.

Tyreen huffed at the messages, even though they made her feel fuzzy inside. Knowing that Juni was looking after her she couldn’t just not answer.

Tyreen (God Queen): Thanks. I’ll head off now, you remind me to get you a gift basket or three when this is handled.

She closed the app and sifted through some current news articles looking for anything to distract her. Until the door clicked open, one of the nurses stepped out and was almost immediately accosted by Tyreen.

“Is it done? Is he ok? He’s ok right?”Tyreen would never act like this if she thought it would get out into the general public but the medical team was sworn to secrecy the same way the department heads were.

“God-Queen, we aren’t done quite yet. Dr.Spectra wanted to speak with you. She’ll be out in a moment.”The nurse said in a tone that had anyone else used they would have found themselves husked. Today though nobody would be husked, these people were here to do a job.

The nurse disappeared back behind the door and after what felt like entirely too long the familiar face of Allison Spectra stepped into the room. Most of her definable features were masked off by her surgical scrubs but her amber eyes that softened when they focused on Tyreen were unmistakable.

“Ah Tyreen, don’t worry everything’s been going perfectly fine. We’ve installed all the vertebral implants and Dr.Sampson is getting ready to install the neural port. Actually that’s what I wanted to speak with you about, as I’m sure you can imagine it’s a bit of a delicate process and while Dr.Sampson is the best neuro specialist in this arm of the galaxy things can still be a little tricky.”Allison held up a hand as Tyreen began to glare at her.

Tyreen weighed the words carefully. She did not want to jump to any conclusions but Allison more so than anybody else in the CoV would know how seriously Tyreen took her brother's health. How could she not when she had been the one who had found a freshly rained on frantic eighteen year old in the lobby of her private practice on Promethea sobbing and begging for help, that her brother was sicker than he’d ever been. Allison had only ever been here to help, and she knew that.

“Shouldn’t you, y’know be in there then? Not out here with me?”She said after what felt like an insufferably long pause. Surely if the operation was not done, one of the attending physicians shouldn’t be out here with her just because she was wearing a track into the floor.

“I’m not a neurosurgeon if you’ll recall,the nurses can handle watching his vitals. There’s no reason for me to be clogging up the operating room when there’s nothing more I can do.”Allison took her mask and gloves off, shoving them into a pocket of her operating scrubs, then placed a gentle hand on Tyreens leg.”Besides, I figured you could use some company.”

Tyreen said nothing to that. It was true she could use the company. How often did she forget that despite all her bluster she was a person, there was only so much she could shoulder by herself before the bottled up emotions ran over. She said nothing but let the hand remain, a good little reminder that she deserved the comfort of others.

——

Tyreen didn’t know what to expect when she walked into Troy’s hospital room. The only force driving her forward right now was the need for visual confirmation that her twin was alive and well. Dr.Sampson had used a lot of big medical terms she didn’t really understand while telling her the operation had been successful. To be honest her brain had mostly blocked out everything he’d said after confirming that Troy had taken all the implants well. She knew that anything that she needed clarification on she could turn to Allison for, but nothing would settle her other than seeing Troy herself.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she entered the room. Time seemed to slow around her as she looked at the heavily bandaged figure that lay in the hospital bed. Her mind immediately registered him as her brother. However,he looked so different in that moment, even when he’d needed his jaw glued back together he still looked like Troy. Laying in the bed now he looked so small.

She was transported back in an instant to Nekrotafeyo, to the days when she would be pulled by her father kicking and screaming away from the bed while her mother would cradle Troy’s tiny body in her lap, how still he would be sometimes. This was just like that only mom and dad weren’t here now to stroke her hair and tell her everything would be alright.

Allison and Dr.Sampson had both warned her that it wouldn’t be pretty, that there would probably be blood seepage,but not to worry unless it seemed excessive.Even so,the bloodstained bandages caught her attention.She was glad that Troy was being pumped full of the best pain killers on the market because even without seeing what lay under the bandages it looked so painful.

It took every ounce of self-control she had to not just touch him with her powers and take the pain away. The doctors had been very clear with her that she could not make the same mistake she’d made with his jaw. He would be laid up for a month at the longest;they had to let his body heal naturally or he would likely be paralyzed if not worse. She perched in the chair by his bedside so afraid that if she were to so much as breathe on him he would turn to dust before her eyes.

She hummed softly, the old lullaby their mother used to sing when they were scared or afraid. Leda had so many lullabies that Tyreen felt like she did no justice to. They were, however, one of the last tenuous strands to their mother they had left and in this moment she needed the strength that Leda had always had.

***

Tyreen was determined to sit vigil at her brother's bedside; she hadn’t left the room in days. When the medical team would come in to check on him she’d excuse herself to the bathroom or go stand in the hallway. She had seen them change his bandages once and that had been one time too many for her. Allison asked her if she’d eaten every time she came in and Tyreen lied through her teeth, she hadn’t left the infirmary ward at all, for once in her life her ability to sustain herself without eating was useful.

She’d fallen out of the habit of checking her echo every ten minutes, if someone needed her attention so desperately they could message her. She was deep in thought when movement at the door caught her attention and Juniper walked in. Tyreen had forgotten that she’d given Juni permission to enter the ward if she so chose to, but she was glad to see a familiar face from outside the ward.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Tyreen echoed back at her, her gaze never straying. Juniper dragged a chair from the corner of the room and sat next to her God-Queen.

“How’s he doing?” She asked, placing a hand on Tyreen’s shoulder.

“Fine. They’re gonna have him sleep through the worst of it.”

“And how are you doing chica? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t. Not really at least. I’ve caught a few hours here and there but…I just worry something awful will happen to him while I sleep.” Tyreen rubbed her eyes, she felt like a ghost of herself.

“You can’t hold yourself responsible for that Tyreen. You know that right? This is out of your hands now.” Juni soothed giving the other woman's leg a reassuring squeeze.

“I can though. This is my fault, the fact that he needed the operation at all, the fact he’s so sick all the time. All of it.”

“Would you blame yourself if he was like this and you hadn’t been born the way the both of you had been?”

Silence met the question and after a long pause with no answer in sight Juniper sighed.“ I get it. He’s your family, he’s all you got, but that doesn’t mean you can tear yourself apart like this.”

She sighed again and looked to the door before looking back at Tyreen. “Listen, when I was just a little younger than you my family lived in the Promethean slums. Folks didn’t care about what ended up in the air or water cos we were the underbelly and they were progress. I had a younger sister and I had to sit and watch as she got sicker and sicker and nobody gave a damn. I had to watch my sister suffer and die and accept there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. As the older or stronger sibling we so often feel like it’s on us alone to protect our siblings, but we can’t do it all Tyreen.”

“Troy’s a tough guy, and you're literally sitting in one of the best medical facilities on Pandora. He’ll be alright and if he does need you? Shouldn’t you be in the best condition you can be to provide for him. Please just get something to eat, have a nap. I’ll stay here and watch him for you Ty.”

Tyreen looked up at Juniper, there were tears in both of their eyes and a look of understanding Tyreen had never seen from another person before. She had always thought her burdens were things she couldn’t share with anyone else, she hadn’t even considered that other people would feel powerless in such a situation. She figured that regular people just accepted that other peoples lives were out of their control. For Juniper to understand her pain and be willing to watch over Troy in her place, it touched her. Juniper was among the few people Tyreen considered a genuine friend and this only cemented that thought for her.

She got up slowly, feeling a bit dizzy. Perhaps she did need to eat more than she thought she did. She gave Juniper a small tired smile.

“Promise you’ll call if anything changes.”

“You’ll be the first to know hun.” Juni patted her shoulder and tilted her head towards the door. “Go on, go take care of yourself.”

#borderlands 3 #Troy Calypso #tyreen calypso #People Like Us #my hcs #My writing #Medical procedure cw #i drew a fucking heart montior just for this because im extra

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moonlit-imagines · 5 years

Text

Headcanons for being a Wheeler Sister

Wheeler’s x sister!reader

warnings:

a/n: i just have a lot of ideas abt characters finn wolfhard plays dont @ me

prompt:

you were two years older than mike, one year younger than nancy

you like, rarely got along with mike

but at the same time, you were always by his side

“move your legs so i can sit on the couch”

“sit on the la-z-boy”

“are you kidding me, mike? that’s dad’s seat!”

“well, then, sit on the floor with holly”

the bickering was nonstop

it wasn’t any better with nancy

“y/n, did you take my sweater?”

“for the hundredth time, nance, no, i did not. your sweaters are not my style.”

nancy digging around your room anyways

“check mike’s room, you know how he is”

accidentally finding eleven

“uh, hey mike, can i talk to you for a second?” *pulls mike by the arm* “who the hell is that in our basement?!”

helping him with el as much as you could

what? of course you thought of the repercussions

but hawkins was getting boring and this was the most exciting thing of the decade

kind of loving and despising his friends at the same time

the kind of “don’t talk to me or i’ll throw a rock at you” hate but “hey do you guys want a slice of the pizza i brought home” love

mike and nancy teasing you about every single guy that even looked in your direction

as soon as you realized the severity of hiding eleven, it was too late

too far in

but now it was up to you to protect your brother

and his friends

seriously the monsters were hideous

he was gonna be scarred

he had nightmares a lot after the middle school fiasco

you know, where you guys watched like, ten people die and a giant faceless monster attack

you and him took turns sleeping in each other’s rooms for a while

one day the nightmares just stopped

but every once in a while he’d come knocking on your door and just coming in so that he didn’t have to face his dreams alone

being closer with his friends and your family

going to your mom for advice

babysitting holly

comforting mike when he misses el

teasing nancy about steve

seeing right through your sister

you knew she didn’t love him

talking to her about jonathan

“i do not have a crush on him!”

“oh, sure you don’t”

round two of goblin creature hell

“mike, stop being a dick to the new girl”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, i’m just making sure she doesn’t find out about eleven”

the boys running and screaming like little girls as they swarmed towards you

strategizing

steve and the kids team up had you freaked out

“so, y/n, has nancy mentioned anything to you about me recently? do you know where she is?”

almost feeling bad for him

protecting the kids

“i need to be with my brother!”

trip to the byers home while the rest of the kids investigated

hysterically chatting with joyce about what had been going on recently

helping joyce around the house so she could focus on will

going to save hopper wheeler x byers x newby edition

will collapsing and what you could only deduce as seizing

“what the hell what the hell what the he—”

“y/n! shut up!”

going to the lab and watching the heartbreaking scene

at least will remembered your brother

going protective big sister mode when the power went out

“stay behind me, mikey”

grabbing a gun

“y/n, you don’t know how to use that!”

“i don’t tell you everything, little brother”

retreating to byers home base

chaotic last minute plans

el showing up

knowing exactly how mike felt in that moment

excitement, fear, anger, happiness

you tried to calm him down at first, but hopper pulled him aside

then he had you go into the room

“mike, hey, come here. you gotta understand why hopper did it, okay? he was trying to keep you and everybody safe. eleven was in trouble and she still is, she was safest hidden. but here she is now, and i know your hurting and your heart is broken, but you’re a badass kid, mike. you’re gonna get better.”

he cried on your shoulder and you rocked him back and forth

he gained his composure and ran back out to properly reunite with eleven

shortly after all of this, mike and eleven started dating

you were so proud

he went to you for relationship advice

you were always getting teased for your relationship too, but hey, you were going strong with your boo

him getting a little overly attached to her

“give her some space, baby bro”

girls day mall trip with max and el

mike was piiiissed at you

“y/n, how could you let this happen! you know the rules better than any of us”

giving up on mike’s love life

supporting nancy’s career goals, but trying to be realistic

“nance, it’s not the end of the world if your don’t become a newspaper writer by seventeen”

“i just need a story to blow them all away!”

your s/o getting caught up in some strange things

full girl’s team up to figure out what the hell is going on

el venting about mike

max and you cracking jokes about your brother

“i love mike and all, but he’s just clueless”

mike’s baffling rant and confession leaving him red in the face

you pulled him aside for a mini pep talk

“don’t worry, mikey, you’re not pathetic or anything for loving her. you’ve been with her for a long time and just because everyone else gave you a weird look about it doesn’t mean you should be ashamed about it. just work on not being a dick to her.”

nancy seeing a few cuts and bruises on your face and arms

“y/n, what the hell happened?”

“billy’s flayed.”

not hesitating to chase after the flesh monster that was about to kill your sister

mall trip 2.0

holding your breath while your siblings were in danger and you couldn’t help

crying and tacking them in hugs when it’s all over

of course you loved them, even if they were the most impossible people to live with

#mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler imagine #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x sister!reader #wheeler!reader #nancy wheeler imagine #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler #stranger things 3 x reader #stranger things 3 imagine #stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine

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tsuki-chibi · 5 years

Text

Passionfruit (November) Day 5: Indulge

See the full story on AO3: Passionfruit

————

Marinette bounced on the tips of her toes as she entered the school. In spite of her disastrous run here, and the fact that only one macaron had survived, she couldn’t help thinking it was going to be a great day... because today was going to be Adrien’s first day of school.

‘I’m on my way,’ Adrien told her; the words came into Marinette’s mind accompanied by a flash of pure excitement that made Marinette smile.

‘I’m waiting for you!’ she replied, heading for Madame Bustier’s classroom.

She entered, looking around. Most of her classmates were familiar to her, though there was a new face seated in the front row. Madame Bustier was pointing Nino to a seat perpendicular to where Marinette always sat. She took her usual seat quietly, looking forward at the spot where Adrien would soon be.

Naturally, that was the moment when Chloé walked over and said, “I want to sit here.”

“This is my seat,” Marinette said patiently. Adrien had told her he’d talked to Chloé. This was the first time Marinette had encountered Chloé since the party. She clenched her hands nervously in her lap.

“Not anymore!” Sabrina said. “Chloé wants to sit there, so -”

“Sabrina, please!” Chloé barked without taking her eyes off of Marinette. In a strained voice, she added, “You can sit beside the new girl. I want to sit behind Adrien.”

Ah. Marinette should’ve figured this was going to happen. She was frankly a little surprised that Chloé hadn’t outright ordered her to move. She was considering how to reply without provoking Chloé into a huge fight when a new voice spoke up.

“Hey! Why don’t you sit there since she’s already sitting?” the new girl said, standing up and crossing her arms. “I’ll sit here.” She grabbed her backpack, stalked around the desks, and threw herself down beside Marinette with a challenging glare.

Chloé’s jaw twitched, eyes narrowing. Sabrina winced.

“Sitting across the aisle from Adrien is as good as sitting behind him. In fact, it’s even better. He won’t even be able to see me,” Marinette said quickly. “If you sit there, he’ll be able to see you and talk to you way more easily.” She gestured to Chloé’s usual spot.

“... Fine,” Chloé ground out, sounding anything but happy. She shot a glare at the new girl before spinning away.

“Wow, who was that?” the girl whispered to Marinette. “She sure has a bad attitude.”

“Actually, for Chloé, that was pretty good,” Marinette admitted. She was honestly surprised that Chloé hadn’t snapped and verbally flayed the new girl. Maybe Chloé really was trying. And all because Adrien had asked her to. He really was amazing.

“Seriously? She was downright nasty! I sure hope you weren’t planning to move.”

Marinette shook her head. “No. My friend is coming... it’s his first day. I want to sit behind him too.”

“First day, huh? I’m glad I won’t be the only newbie around. I’m Alya.” Alya thrust her hand out towards Marinette.

“Marinette,” Marinette said, shaking Alya’s hand.

‘Damn it!’ Adrien swore mentally.

‘What? What’s - oh no!’ Marinette groaned inwardly as she glimpsed Nathalie through Adrien’s eyes. She immediately knew what was happening.

‘I’m sorry, Mari,’ Adrien said mournfully. He sounded so crushed that her heart ached.

‘It’s not your fault. It’s your dumb father,’ Marinette replied, biting her lip. She’d hoped that for once, Adrien would get to indulge himself by getting what he wanted.

Adrien sighed. ‘I’ll try again at lunch.’

‘Okay. I’ll take good notes in the meantime,’ Marinette said, feeling bad for him. He’d been looking forward to this all summer!

She looked down at her lone surviving macaron. She’d lost the others pulling that elderly man out of the way of traffic. This one was chocolate, and she’d hoped to be able to give it to Adrien as a welcome-to-school gift. But she could always get more when she went home at lunch. She picked up the macaron, broke it in half, and handed it to Alya.

“Thanks girl!” Alya said, surprised but pleased.

“No problem,” Marinette said, biting into her own half. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Chloé look at Adrien’s empty seat with an impatient look, then turn around and stare at Marinette.

There was no harm in being honest. Marinette subtly shook her head. Chloé’s face visibly crumbled in disappointment for a few seconds before Chloé collected herself and turned away. It was probably the first time in Marinette’s life that she could honestly say she knew exactly how Chloé felt.

Madame Bustier took roll call and then dismissed their class to their next period. Marinette was vaguely aware of Ivan and Kim having an argument with each other, but she didn’t pay them too much attention. Alya wasn’t sure of the way to the library. Marinette grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, leading Alya out of the classroom.

“So tell me, have you found your soulmate yet?” Alya asked eagerly.

Marinette tripped and would’ve gone down on her hands and knees had Alya not grabbed her arm. Alya steadied her and laughed lightly. Marinette flushed with embarrassment, straightening her shirt and pretending that she was fascinated by a poster on the wal.

“Sorry about that. I’m really clumsy,” she said.

“It’s okay. Have you, though?” Alya asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Marinette lied, feeling a tiny twinge of guilt. She didn’t like starting off a new friendship with a lie, but what choice did she have? Besides, she’d spent all summer lying to her parents so what was one more person?

“Too bad. I haven’t met mine either,” Alya said. “I was kinda hoping I’d find them at this school.” She peered around like she was expecting her soulmate to leap out of a closet.

“Rose and Juleka are soulmates,” Marinette volunteered. When Alya looked blank, she added, “Short girl, short blonde hair wearing a pink dress, and the tall girl with the long black hair wearing purple.”

“Oh!” Alya said. “That’s so cool! How did they find out?”

“It was a long time ago. Back when we were kids,” Marinette told her, finally walking again. “I’m sure Rose would tell you all about it if you asked her someday.”

“I might do that. I find soulmates fascinating,” Alya confided, easily keeping pace with Marinette. “My words are ‘Dude, you okay?’.”

“Romantic,” Marinette said with a giggle. “Mine are no better though. It says, um, ‘It’s okay, passionfruit is my favorite.”.” She flushed, remembering how embarrassing that moment had been. Thank goodness Adrien had such a kind heart. If he’d been more like Chloé, who knows what Marinette would’ve had written on her chest!

Probably some variation on the word ‘ridiculous’.

Alya scrunched her nose. “Mysterious words suck. Though I guess at least it means you’ll know your soulmate immediately, right?” She pushed open the door to the library. Marinette started to follow her in.

A sudden sharp wave of grief and frustration made her pause, because those feelings definitely did not belong to Marinette. She froze, startled, and nearly got smacked in the face with the door as a reward. She got her hand up to stop it just in time, though still got jolted in the shoulder.

“Shit, sorry!” Alya exclaimed. “You okay?”

“I, uh, bathroom!” Marinette said quickly, backing away. She hurried out before Alya could ask or try to come with her, running back towards the girl’s washroom.

Marinette barged inside, checking quickly to make sure it was empty. There was no one else there, so she whipped her phone out and hit the button to video call Adrien. Something else had happened and she would bet good money it had everything to do with Adrien’s asshole father.

The call clicked through, showing her Adrien’s miserable face. Marinette leaned against the wall and reached out for their bond, sending a wordless surge of comfort and affection pulsing through it. If Adrien were here in person, she would happily give him a hug.

“Thanks Mari,” Adrien croaked, wiping his face. “I could use one of your hugs.”

“What happened?” Marinette asked gently.

“Just my father being his typical self.” Adrien sniffed. “He said that the word is too dangerous and I have to stay inside because it’s safer. He says I’m not like everyone else.” His lower lip trembled. “I hate this! I’m not special! I just want to be a kid!”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Marinette said, wishing she had something better to tell him. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live with someone as controlling as Gabriel.

Her parents were a little flakey sometimes, and they didn’t always have as much time for her as she would have wished, but there was never any doubt in Marinette’s mind that they loved her. They would love Adrien too. For the first time, she doubted whether their plan to keep things secret was really the right choice.

“He was really mad,” Adrien went on. “He told me I was never going to school. What are you even supposed to say to that?!” He flung his arms wide, giving Marinette a dizzying flash of his room.

“I don’t know,” she said softly.

“He’s going to keep me locked up here forever! I’ll be a prisoner until the day I die!” Adrien exclaimed dramatically. He fell back on his bed and finally brought the phone back around to his face.

“Well, maybe not until you die. But it certainly sounds like he plans to keep you locked up until you’re eighteen,” Marinette said with a sigh. “Maybe -”

She cut herself off with a squeak as the floor shook, tremors running through the school. Marinette fell to her knees, nearly losing her grip on her phone, and felt Adrien’s alarm even as he cried out her name. In the distance, she heard a familiar voice.

“KIM!”

“Mari? What’s going on?! Are you okay?!” Adrien said frantically.

“Um... I don’t know,” Marinette said, unsteadily getting back to her feet. “That sounded like Ivan...”

“Your classmate?” Adrien said.

“Our classmate,” she corrected automatically. “Adrien, I gotta go. I need to see what’s going on.”

“Be careful,” he told her worriedly, and she managed a smile before she ended the call.

Marinette burst out of the bathroom and ran right into Alix, who excitedly told her all about the monster that was terrorizing the school. Marinette stared at her in shocked debelief. A monster who could pick up cars? It sounded like something out of a comic book!

“They’re sending us home,” Alix added. “We better go.”

“Oh, but what about Alya?” Marinette cried, looking back at the library. She felt guilty now for leaving Alya alone.

“The new girl? She said something about superheroes and super villains and ran off after the monster,” Alix replied.

Ran after the monster? Alya was officially crazy! Marinette shook her head and moved to follow Alix, mentally filling Adrien in on what was going on. He was as shocked by the prospect of a monster roaming the streets of Paris as Marinette was.

She joined the students leaving the school and quickly rushed across the street to the bakery. Both of her parents were preoccupied with customers. Marinette waved at her maman and hurried over to the stairs. She burst into the apartment and immediately headed upstairs to her room.

“Don’t be bemused! It’s just the news! Paris is being attacked by a super villain!” Nadja Chamack stood in front of the camera. Behind her, the police were waging war on a big stone creature. Marinette gasped at the sight of it.

‘Wow, this is crazy!’ Adrien said through the bond.

‘I can’t believe it. A super villain here?’ Marinette said. She clutched her favorite plushie to her chest and sank back in her computer chair.

‘The police will take care of it,’ Adrien said, but he didn’t sound or feel very confident.

‘I hope so,’ Marinette said, worried. ‘Hey, you feeling any better?’

‘Kind of. This is definitely a distraction but - oh. Hey, what’s this?’ Curiosity pulsed through Adrien’s mental voice.

Marinette was about to ask him what was up, or maybe even peek through his eyes, when she caught sight of a strange box sitting on her chaise. Baffled, because she didn’t remember having anything like that around, she reached out and picked it up. The smooth edges fit comfortably in the palm of her hand. She opened it up.

#passionfruit #passionfruit november #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #pre canon #miraculous ladybug

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bookburnt · 4 years

Text

finally did a writeup of some deets of gerry’s alive and well verse! oh dear

Gerry still got sick while traveling with Gertrude, but it didn’t kill him. In this AU, Gertrude asked him to “help out” with reading statements when she noticed him getting ill. Once he started reading statements, the symptoms started to fade, and he’s doing fine now ... as long as he doesn’t go for too long without a statement.

He’s aware that this is not a good sign for his humanity, but he still tries to help people out wherever he can, and he doesn’t take statements from anyone who hasn’t come in to give one.

He was separated from Gertrude at the time of her death. She had sent him to Ny-Ålesund at the time of the Dark’s ritual to make it look like she was taking it seriously, hoping that doing so would throw Elias off while she burned down the Institute. No dice; Elias still copped what she was up to and shot her down.

Despite everything, Gerry misses her and feels guilty over her death. Although he still never fully trusted her, in this AU he never had to realize the full extent of how cruel she was willing to be, as she never bound him into the book.

He knows that both Gertrude and he were fully aware of the risks of their existence, and that Gertrude was completely willing to die for her cause. He’s not exactly out for vengeance, though the idea is very tempting to him. Still, given that the last time he went out for vengeance he nearly joined the Hunt permanently, he tries to be more careful with his anger these days. With that in mind, he’s lowkey trying to figure out what Gertrude was up to and finish it for her.

After Gertrude’s death, Elias transferred Gerry (who was technically already an Institute employee via his work with Gertrude) to the Archives.

He’s aware that Gertrude never wanted him to work in the Archives proper. Sometimes, under the void of grief, it hurts to know that he’s still a disappointment, but she’s dead and he has no other options.

He's somewhat distant from the other Archives staff as of the start of s1, partly because he has no shared history with anyone else in there, and partly because everyone knows the big scary goth flayed his own mother, which is ... not a great foundation to be building office friendships on.

Gerry does not like his job at the Archives, he does not like the Institute, he does not like Elias, and he does not initially like Jon. That last one is less about Jon as a person- I do see them as having the potential to work well as friends and/or partners once they’ve both gotten past some shit, and I’m always down to plot that out with players of Jons. Gerry’s initial animosity towards Jon in this verse is more about Gerry’s own issues with Archivists and with the idea of Gertrude being replaced by someone so inept. In Sasharchivist verses, while he may not trust Sasha immediately, there’s much less animosity.

Despite all that bitterness, though, he’s still surprisingly kind under his crunchy goth shell.

Keeps very irregular hours, and is often off doing “research work” that no one else really knows anything about. Is probably the most competent person on s1 Archives staff, given all his experience dealing with this shit, but also the most useless to the actual Institute, because FUCK being useful to the Magnus Institute.

He knows that his dad found a way to quit somehow, but he doesn’t know how. He wants out, but in the meantime, it’s all he can do to keep looking out for others.

Whenever a statement mentions a weird goth with tattoos, he just kind of walks backwards out of the room. Can’t have been him who talked to that girl in Italy; he’s never been there. Can’t have been him who bought that dude’s spooky book; he doesn’t even know how to read. Can’t have been him who got brought into the hospital covered in burns (that happen to line up with his current burn scars) with a passport identifying him as “Gerard Keay” and then vaporized a man; he medically doesn’t exist. Etc, etc, etc.

Office gossip about Gerry ranges from “yeah I’m pretty sure I saw him trying to get blood out of his shirt in the men's room” to “he dumped the entire thing of sugar in the break room into his coffee and then there was none left to put in my tea.”

#//he's the local archives cryptid. even more so than the other archives cryptids.#back home off the run | V: ALIVE & WELL ⚿

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seedsplease · 6 years

Note

If you're still doing request could you do #61 with fem deputy and John?

Warnings: Some implied violence and also a discussion of children being possibly harmed.

He staggered backwards, bracing himself against the bar stool and clutching at his cheek.

“I see we’re not going to be civil today, Deputy.” John chuckled, rubbing at the healthy mark she’d left him. “A pity. You were so… accommodating last time.”

Rook threw her bag down on the nearby sofa, shaking her head as she paced across from him.

“Civil?” She repeated in a scoff. “Civil? I think you threw civil out the window the moment you took those children from the town.”

He stiffened at her words, smile sobering as he leaned back against the bar behind him and watched her carefully. His telltale, sharp glint was back in his eyes, always trying to figure out her ploy; predict her thoughts and actions before she knew them.

“Ah,” was all he said.

“That’s it?” She hissed, hands clenching into fists again. “That’s all you have to say?”

He took a deep breath, sighing on the exhale as though he were the one most tried between them.

“What would you want me to say, Deputy?” John asked, voice light and amicable as though he were discussing something much more trivial than the truth. “That I did not wish for children to be condemned to the Collapse?” His lip quirked in something like a grimace as he stepped forward, hand falling from his cheek. “That I intervened because I wouldn’t let them suffer from the ignorance of the ones who should be keeping them safe?”

She laughed, the sound derisive in the empty saloon - their truce and meeting point in Faith’s region.

“You and your fucking Collapse,” Rook scowled, lashing out with a kick to the nearest bar stool, sending it scattering to the side. “You’ll use your stupid doomsday as an excuse for anything, won’t you?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Would you rather I left them to die?” He asked, using the snide voice she imagined he used during his courtroom days. The performative, “I’ve got you now” voice that she hated. “I’m saving them, dear, and you’re saying you’d rather I didn’t.”

“Forgive me if a man who flays his victims and strings up the dead bodies of others doesn’t exactly strike me as a ‘safe’ sort of guy,” Rook hisses back. “You gonna carve all their sins on them, then? That your idea of safety?”

“They don’t have to worry about that,” he said, as though it were obvious and she were foolish for merely suggesting otherwise. “Children don’t undergo the process - only adults.”

She clapped her hands together, giving a too-high gasp of delight.

“Wonderful!” She sang, smile too wide and toothy. “I’ll let you ‘save’ them so you can raise half of them to be lambs for the slaughter, shall I?”

His eyes narrowed, clearly not appreciating her tone.

“You’re slaughtering them,” John replied, voice low. “And those among you that are killed are those that rejected the Atonement. The children we save and raise in the bunkers will be raised to accept it and live.”

There was something utterly resolute about his expression, something unmovable and frightening. She turned from him, facing the window that looked out to the deserted road and felt her hand stray to her abdomen, palm pressing down ever-so-slightly against the swell in her stomach.

“So you’re happy to leave a parent robbed of their child?” Rook asked, giving him a firm glare from over her shoulder. “I just…Everyone sees the horrible things you’ve done to people - all in the name of this fucking Collapse - so do you seriously think anyone would just hand over their child to you?”

He laughed softly, reaching up to brush idly against the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, I know the resistance to our project very well,” John replied, something wry in his expression. “One of the first times I tried to convince a local mother into converting with her children did not go well, and…suffice to say, turns out it’s hard to breathe through a broken nose.”

Rook raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t help but think he deserved it - and also that she’d have been rather interested in seeing that.

“So you don’t care?” She turned back around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest and subconsciously shielding her stomach from him. “Those families you tear apart…that means nothing to you?”

He gave her a thin smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Parents who are willing to endanger their children to the Collapse are not fit to be parents,” he replied simply.

Neither are you, she thought, hand twitching and wishing to brush soothingly across her abdomen again.

“You’ve got this idea in your head that you’re absolutely right,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “That you couldn’t possibly be wrong about this; about what a normal parent would think is the bigger danger here.” Rook stepped back, towards the sofa where her bag lay. “You don’t know the first thing about parenting.”

And you’re not going to know, she thought, slinging her bag across her shoulder.

“Not yet,” he called to her, and she stopped in her tracks, a moment of panic and uncertainty rushing over her. Trying to steel herself, she glanced at him, furiously trying to figure out if he knew.

Rook took a deep breath, and judged from his suggestive expression that it was only a wayward comment, not a hint as she’d feared.

“God save a child of yours, John Seed,” she said softly, heading towards the door and leaving him relaxed by the bar.

“God will,” he replied calmly. “No child of mine - no child of this county - will be left to die a sinner’s death.”

He might have been provoking her, trying to keep her with him for just a moment longer - prevent her exit - but she was done. He’d confirmed that the children were being kept in his bunker, so she had an escape plan to make with the Resistance.

“You’re leaving?” John asked, straightening up and watching her curiously. “Was that all you wanted? Forgive me, dear, but I was under the impression that you had something important to say.” He leaned forward, elbows still braced on the bar bench behind him, and smiled with too much teeth. “Do you wish to Confess?”

Rook faced the exit and allowed her hand to brush against her stomach one last time.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she replied quietly before walking out the door, leaving John Seed alone and utterly oblivious in the empty saloon.

#john seed x female deputy #john seed #so this got a bit uhh angsty? sort of?#idk there'll be a sequel I think #thanks for sending this in!! <3 <3 <3 #implied pregnancy #discussion of children being harmed #Anonymous

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thunder-the-ranger-wolf · 5 years

Text

Self Preservation Level: Zero (Forging a family ch 2)

It wasn't every day you ran into All Might. Izuku was on the way home after a very irritating day that only got worse when a villain tried to use him as a hiding place. How does that even work?!

He'd been terrified. Not too long ago, some former friends told him to wish for a Quirk in his next life and now it looked like he might get the chance to do that.

A whoosh of air was the last thing Izuku felt before he blacked out, and he hoped desperately that it meant help would arrive.

Forging a Family

"Young man!" A voice that was used to being loud was currently hissing in his ear, and it was enough to break through his thoughts.

If not that, then the fact that someone is slapping him awake.

"Five more minutes, Oji-san. School is over. I get a nap."

"School is indeed over, young man, but this is not the place to nap."

Izuku scrambled blindly to his feet, lurching forward as he tried to steady himself.

"All Might!" He realizes breathlessly. "You're-."

"In the middle of capturing a villain, my boy, for which you have my sincerest apologies. I should have caught this man long before he got to you."

"Wait, no, why apologize?!" Izuku blurted out. "I'm sure you did everything you could!"

"You'd certainly think so, but if you remember anything else, remember that even heroes make mistakes."

"I can't imagine that. You're Number 1! The Symbol of Peace!"

All Might shot him a warm yet amused look.

"My boy, if we had the time I would tell you exactly what I think of hero rankings. But I must get this villain to the police."

All Might was preparing to take off but Izuku had questions! So many questions…

At the last minute, he grabbed onto the hero's shirt and was yanked high into the air by the single greatest leap he'd ever seen.

And it was terrifying. He barely managed to keep his mouth shut, gritting his teeth for fear of choking, but internally he was screaming his head off.

They landed on a roof, All Might having plucked Izuku from his lower side in midair and held him close as one would a baby.

Now, Izuku staggered upright after tumbling head over heels from such an abrupt landing.

"Young man," All Might ground out lowly. "That was dangerous, and it is inappropriate to invade one's personal space. You have a reason for doing so, yes?"

Izuku bobbed his head, struggling to catch his breath.

"Can I be a hero without a Quirk?" He blurted out.

All Might stood frozen at the question and Izuku knew that somehow, he'd gone too far.

Maybe it was because he'd grabbed the man out of nowhere. Maybe it was because he'd impeded All Might's plans for such a stupid, stupid question. Of course you couldn't be a hero without a Quirk, why would you bother-?!

"I should tell you no." All Might began slowly. "I should tell you that there is no making a way in this world without something to back you up. You would have to prove yourself a million times over for even a chance at what others have… but I will not tell you that. Because I am out of time, and have no idea what to say other than I see you going very far in life no matter what you do."

Smoke billowed from the taller man's form as he said those last words. All Might hunched over as he seemed to shrink in on himself, and then collapsed to the ground, coughing viciously.

Izuku narrowed his eyes. All Might was sick?

Izuku only ever heard that terrible cough from one person in his life. His uncle's partner looked American but spoke like he grew up in Japan. He was the oldest of his friend group, and whenever he came over to visit Inko and Izuku, he was fed a variety of strange dishes that Izuku's mother wouldn't normally cook.

"Oji-san…" Izuku whispered to the crumpled man before him. "What happened to you?"

Yagi Toshinori looked miserable as he attempted to respond.

"Nevermind." Izuku determined. "You're coughing up blood. Kaa-san said you shouldn't be doing that even with your stomach issues. Do you have your medicine with you?"

Yagi dipped his head in a nod.

"Pocket below the sludge bottles." He rasped. "I'll take them later."

"You should have something now. You can't say you aren't in pain, after what just happened."

"Transforming takes a lot out of me, yes, but I'm old and injured. Meds won't help me any more than if I took them later."

"You're not that much older than Naoki-ojisan." Izuku snorted. "But if you insist, can I at least escort you to the police station?"

"If you must, my boy."

Izuku wasn't sure how he missed something as obvious as Yagi being All Might. They spoke the same, they were the same ridiculous height, they both had blond hair and eerie blue eyes… the only conclusion he could come to was that he was a fool.

"No one knows what to look for." Yagi offered quietly as if reading his thoughts.

"So when you said you were a secretary at a Hero Agency…"

"Yes, I am my own secretary. It seems weird when I say it aloud, but I like having some measure of control over my life."

"So, why keep being a hero if you know you're injured?"

"Because I am a hypocrite, dear boy. Your mother has insisted that one must know their limits. This is what happens when you surpass those limits and keep going. Eventually, I will be forced into retirement, if I make it that long.”

“Of course you will, Yagi-san.” Izuku said, stopping in front of the older man so that they stared at each other. “You’re one of the smartest men I know. And All Might is an amazing hero. He’s been Number 1 for so long, is it any wonder he would think of retiring?”

“You are a smart one, my boy. Your mother raised you well.”

Izuku dipped his head in acknowledgment and they walked in peace for a while longer.

It wasn’t long enough, though. Up ahead was a large crowd. From the shouting that Izuku could make out and the number of heroes on the scene, someone was in trouble.

Forging a Family

"I got your number from your sister so please don't hang up yet."

"Five minutes."

"I messed up and I need you to yell at me."

"What?"

"You heard me the first time." Yagi ground out.

"Hold on. Have you talked to Naoki about this? Please don't tell me I'm the first person you called-!"

"He's working, I left a voicemail. On top of which I'll see him later today. What kind of fool do you think I am?"

"The last time you had a problem he could have solved you two didn't talk for weeks."

"Because he was being an asshole and invading my privacy. There's a difference."

"There's a… Okay. There's no time to unpack any of that so moving the fuck on."

"So I ran into your nephew today-."

"Huh. I haven't contacted Inko this week at all. How are they?"

"Good, fine. Inko seems happy."

"Well that's always a goal. But you ran into Izuku?"

"He was attacked by this pile of sludge that might have been a person-."

"He what?"

"I handled it… sort of. I captured the villain, Izuku woke up, that would have been that but I just knew something was up with him so I wanted to make sure he got home alright. I go to leave and this little shit decides to grab me at the last minute. I ended up sticking around to make sure he was okay but somehow the sludge pile escapes and kidnaps someone else. One of his classmates. So this kid… God, Shou, this fuckin kid… he tracked the sludge to a crowd that wasn't doing a damn thing and fired the first shot!"

"Wait a minute, he did what?! We're there other heroes on the scene?"

"Newcomers who couldn't think their way out of a paper bag, apparently!" Toshi snarled. "Just standing there and literally letting a youngster die!"

"Not everyone is quick to react. But go on, how'd he do it?"

"Threw his bag at the villain's face and scraped the boy out when All Might did a Detroit Smash."

"All Might did a-? Is he crazy?!"

"No, no. He times the attack perfectly. The kid knew what he was doing and All Might saw an opportunity and went for it. The villain was captured a second time, the kid actually got to go home."

"So what's the problem?"

"His mother recognized me. Didn't say anything, but she knew. And before that…"

"Yes?"

"I-considered-giving-him-my-quirk!"

"Repeat that?"

"I almost told the boy everything right then and there."

"Why?"

"He was so brave, my friend! He acted when no one else was able to! And before, on the way to the police station, he asked if he could be a hero."

Aizawa laughed, a short bark of a thing.

"Literally only that kid would ask his hero without knowing exactly what that means… gods above. But how does that lead to the boy getting your power?"

"I almost told him everything."

"But?"

"I remembered this is Inko's boy. She would flay me alive and have me for dinner if I tried such a thing!"

"Of course."

“So I kept my mouth shut but I seriously considered it. Which is why I need you to yell at me.”

Forging a Family

Naoki was not a happy camper when he got home from work. Nowadays it seemed like he rarely ever was. He never smiled, his jokes fell flat with most crowds, and he had this… knowing air about him. Like he could tell your deepest secrets from a single look. Granted, that wasn't far from his actual Quirk but he required contact to activate it. And it was foresight, not hindsight. The only secrets he would know are the ones that come back to bite you. And even then, he's not one to go looking. That was a lesson he's learned many times over, once at the cost of his livelihood.

It was taking everything he had not to scream as Yagi described the Sludge Incident.

“Just so we’re straight-.”

“We’re not.” Yagi snickered.

“This is no time for jokes! Some days I still can't believe I married such a dork.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t for my looks.” Yagi deadpanned. “Perhaps for our mutual love of all things All Might.”

"Yagi, what happened out there?!"

"I wasn't on the scene, but I hear there were quite a few heroes trying to determine the best course of action while a young man was held hostage and slowly suffocating."

"They likely did their best. Not everyone can afford to be as quick and reckless."

"You think your former boss reckless?"

"Undoubtedly, but in this case it proved effective. So All Might swooped in and saved the day once more but I'm not seeing a problem."

"Your nephew has seen All Might's civilian form."

Naoki groaned, a deep and frustrated thing that had Toshinori laughing into his arm.

"You seem so burdened by the world's events that it's a winder you get any sleep."

"Some days, I wonder myself. You cannot honestly believe that this is anywhere near alright."

"Midoriya-san knew me already, and though I offered to stick around, she assured me it wasn't necessary. It's not like I intended to reveal such truths to the boy."

"And yet."

"Indeed… Izuku is a smart boy, and he's already got secrets of his own. If anyone had to figure out All Might's civilian form, I'm glad it was him."

"But we are definitely talking to Inko."

"Oh yes, absolutely. If only to make sure she doesn't chop my head off next she sees me."

#forging a family: the aizawa siblings fic #yagi toshinori #midoriya izuku #aizawa naoki #aka sir nighteye #aizawa shouta #nightmight

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cannabisrefugee-esq · 6 years

Photo

Crohn's Disease is a Terminal Illness. Coming to Terms.

January 23, 2019

After researching this disease for going on 6 years now, I believe I have come to a rational conclusion about Crohn’s disease which is that it is not a so-called incurable progressive disease but a fatal one: based on all the evidence including anecdotal evidence from patients themselves I now believe that Crohn’s disease is a terminal illness. I have more or less concluded that before but for some reason I hadn’t yet come to terms with it. It’s not easy to come to terms with something like that but not because I suffer from what is almost certainly going to cause my untimely death but because everyone, and I mean absolutely everyone is lying their asses off about Crohn’s disease including how “treatable” it is, what kind of quality of life Crohn’s patients can reasonably expect, how predictably disabling it is and why, and how it’s probably going to end.

But before we get to the end it’s important to start at the beginning and admit what Crohn’s disease is at base: Crohn’s patients, including myself, have to medicate in order to eat. And that is serious, very serious indeed. If there is anything that is any less compatible with life than a disease that prevents the sick person from eating I can’t think of it. A disease that prevented the sick person from breathing wouldn’t be any less compatible with life than Crohn’s is, it would just be quicker.

To illustrate, for the last 6 weeks or so I have been extremely fatigued to the point of being bedridden for most of it. If it weren’t for having to get up to take care of my cats and absolutely bare-minimally tending to my small business I probably wouldn’t have been able to get up at all. Once I had to move from the bed to the couch for most of the day because my bed had become damp and clammy from having laid in it for too many hours, days and weeks in a row: I flayed the covers off it and hit it with a box fan. I couldn’t change the sheets because my only other set has been sitting in the hamper for 2 months waiting to be washed and other chronically ill people know exactly what that means: the last good day I had was 2 months ago where I changed the sheets and did half of my laundry. Since then I haven’t been able to do a good goddamned thing.

Anyway, I’ve been so unbelievably exhausted recently that I’ve been unable to medicate properly. Instead of changing my cannabis-infused transdermal patches every day or every other day, a few times I let it go for 4 or 5 days and for that I paid a terrible price: on top of the crippling fatigue and general malaise, as well as the continuous, daily pain and symptoms from Crohn’s which are always present to some degree and never go away, I was also so fucking sick from not medicating that I could no longer eat. I had terrible stomach and intestinal pain including distressing burning, itching, pulling, pressure and boggy sensations as well as gastroparesis, nausea, heartburn, esophageal spasms and unsurprisingly, a profound aversion to food. Which was good in a way since I was so tired I couldn’t have gotten to the grocery store to buy food anyway even if I had money to buy it or even a way to get to the store which I don’t. And all of this misery, every bit of it including my poverty are due to the last 6 years spent as a full-blown Crohn’s patient but again, let’s not forget what Crohn’s is at base: it’s not about fatigue, it’s not about pain in a general or even in a specific way. Although there is plenty of it it’s not about pain. Crohn’s patients cannot eat. We can’t eat.

As one might expect, following days, weeks, months and longer without a proper meal Crohn’s patients often become crazed and try to “eat something” — food which is then processed in our bodies exactly like poison. We get nauseated and sweaty, we wretch, we heave, we shit our fucking brains out, all of which exacerbates our food aversion. And as Crohn’s is admittedly a lifelong, incurable and progressive disease it goes on forever. Forever. Until you die from it. No, Crohn’s patients do not die natural deaths peacefully in their sleep at an advanced age. Crohn’s patients don’t sleep, at least not without massive pharmaceutical or other interventions. When they die, Crohn’s patients die from not eating, or from the effects of their medications, or both. Or they die on the operating table or by suicide, both because of the Crohn’s. They don’t have a chance to become old but again, that’s focusing on the end which becomes confusing as to cause. Here it is helpful to go back to the beginning to what Crohn’s actually is at base: Crohn’s patients cannot eat. We can’t eat. And if you can’t eat you die.

All the conventional treatments we take, all the chasing our tails with alternative treatments including medical cannabis that aren’t sustainable anyway, all the resources poured into us (or not) by family and friends, all the money we spend on ourselves to get relief from this hideous disease is because we can’t eat and we are trying to fix that. Even Crohn’s patients who achieve so-called “clinical remission” using dangerous and life-threatening drugs continue to have issues regardless of what the scopes say, regardless of whether there appears to be any active inflammation or not. But if the treatment is successful, no matter how sick they still are, even if the medication gives them lupus or diabetes or AIDS or cancer, the “successful” Crohn’s patient will be able to eat. That’s all we are asking for and it’s all some of us ever get — that’s what the successful ones get. Although we are still sicker than most people can even imagine, finally, finally we get to eat.

And many Crohn’s patients never achieve clinical remission or have any success or get any relief at all from conventional treatments (i.e. we still can’t eat). I didn’t. After 2 entire years on conventional Crohn’s treatments I couldn’t eat a fucking thing. Out of desperation I spent thousands of dollars on a sickening enteral feed that was supposed to give me all the nutrients I needed but without any fiber or anything to digest — it all went straight to my liver. But because it had to go through my stomach and small intestine first, otherwise known as eating, all it did was make me sicker. I was literally starving to death and there was nothing I or my doctors could do about it. I was absolutely circling the drain.

It took me an entire year on mega-doses of marijuana (approaching 1,000mg THC daily, where 5-10mg is a standard recreational dose and 25-50mg is a standard medical dose) including smoking pot and eating simultaneously — a bite of food, a bong hit, repeat — to be able to tolerate food again. After I stopped eating GMOs and switched to an exclusively 100% organic diet (including raw fermented organic food and various organic and non-GMO supplements) I didn’t have to smoke during meals anymore, but I still had to medicate daily. In order to eat. Of course, marijuana is also an exquisite pain reliever so a goodly portion of my pain and symptoms were also quelled and I felt remarkably better — about 50% better than I had since well before my diagnosis. I was still extremely sick and I didn’t understand that part but I could eat again, I could sleep again and that was good enough for me.

I thought I would continue to get better though and I didn’t. Because with Crohn’s the best you can hope for is to be able to eat again and even that’s not expected to last; it’s a progressive disease so you’re doing well if you stay the same and don’t get worse. For me, because of the pot, I can still eat but I am, in fact, getting progressively worse. The fatigue is worse, the good days are fewer and farther between but for now, because I can medicate, I can eat. Of course, I can’t eat dairy, eggs, legumes, or anything in the gourd family (including squash, cucumber and melon) but I can eat. As long as it’s organic and non-GMO I can eat (unless I can’t).

But what does it mean to be reliant on a consumerist solution — meaning “treatments” of any type including conventional, alternative or herbal including cannabis — in order to be able to eat? That’s what no one seems willing to say. From any angle, being dependent on a consumerist solution or any solution in order to eat means that you have an extremely serious and likely terminal disease. Doesn’t it? The fact that Crohn’s only gets worse over time underscores that point, where even if you do manage to find a consumerist solution that works, and even if you have easy access to it forever (most people don’t) over time you will find that you’re unable to eat once again. Crohn’s “progresses” into stricturing or fistulizing late in the game, but early on it progresses from not being able to eat certain things to not being able to eat at all. That’s the moment you would normally die except for consumerist solutions that only prolong the dying process. You will face death by starvation again if you live that long where conventional treatments are known to kill you.

And that’s another point isn’t it — the drugs. How, one may wonder, does Big Medicine justify giving extremely toxic drugs to Crohn’s patients when the drugs themselves cause hideous and disabling iatrogenic illnesses and injuries including lupus, opportunistic infections and cancer? How can anyone reasonably accept being “infected” with full-blown untreated AIDS via immune system decimating “chemo” cancer drugs which themselves also cause cancer as a treatment for anything, especially something so (allegedly) trivial as Crohn’s disease? The seriousness of Crohn’s is consistently downplayed by everyone who refuses to accept that it’s a terminal illness if you can’t eat you die, but the fact remains that no matter how sadistic our Big Pharma overlords really are, and it’s a lot, the benefit of the treatment still has to outweigh the risks at least on paper. And the only way I can imagine that AIDS and cancer are better to have than Crohn’s is that Crohn’s is worse. More relentlessly painful. More predictably and profoundly disabling. More likely to result in imminent death. And everyone, and I mean everyone is lying about that.

I blame Big Pharma with its fictional Crohn’s drugs commercials that show (for example) a perfectly healthy actor in no distress whatsoever resting one hand on the waistband of his flat-front Dockers suggesting virtually nothing about what Crohn’s disease really entails (it’s not just about having unpredictable “bathroom visits” but it often includes that). Also, in this culture, “the bathroom” is the final phase of eating. Duh. Read between the lines here people. Eating is not comprised solely of chewing and swallowing (although some Crohn’s patients can’t even do that much). If you can’t process food you will die and Crohn’s patients cannot process food whether they barf it up, shit it out too soon and too unprocessed, fail to assimilate it even if they can keep it down and/or in, or if they give up and/or can’t “eat” it at all. I’ve seen Crohn’s patients admit that they often chew up food for the taste/craving satisfaction and then spit it out without swallowing. That’s not eating y’all.

No one accepts that Crohn’s disease is fatal but now that I’ve seen what I’ve seen, I kind of have to. I was unable to eat for 2 entire years and I felt like I was dying; I once told a friend that I couldn’t imagine living that way for another 40 years (I was 40 at the time) and I had no idea how right I was about that. It’s unimaginable in this case because it’s not possible; it is not possible to get out of a fatal disease alive and Crohn’s disease is a fatal disease. I was, of course, dying. It took someone like me to figure it out — a professional problem solver and someone used to looking at patriarchal insanity and making perfect sense of it — and even I almost missed it because I was so unbelievably sick and weak, so brainwashed by the propaganda and so insane from the pain and medication I was unable to research much of anything let alone to deeply analyze it. I spent easily $100,000 and 4 entire years this March getting comfortable/well enough to even attempt to get my head around what was happening to me, to organize my thoughts and to write about it on this blog. I’ve written about it extensively for almost a year now and I just came to this conclusion a couple of days ago as what seems to me a natural progression of this research, these discussions and this work. Crohn’s is fatal, I have a terminal disease, and now I get to come to terms with that.

I won’t comment on whether other autoimmune diseases are similarly fatal where patients are also prescribed the same immunity-decimating drugs that cause (essentially) AIDS, diabetes and cancer because I don’t know enough about them, but I think there is plenty that suggests that they are. Why is letting a doctor give you AIDS better than living with untreated MS, RA and all the other autoimmune diseases that are routinely treated with chemo and biologics that leave the patient without an immune system and who is it better for, seem like questions worth asking. In the case of Crohn’s, there is at least a chance (allegedly and on paper) that the patient will temporarily be able to eat again; and I think untreated (and treated) MS eventually stops your breathing but I’m not sure.

But why is Crohn’s specifically so downplayed when it is so gravely serious, why are Crohn’s patients specifically expected to continue working and recreating as if nothing is wrong when they are literally fucking dying and have to medicate successfully in order to eat? Why in this case specifically will no one call a spade a spade and admit that it’s a terminal illness/fatal disease when it pretty obviously is one? That’s what I’m thinking about now.

Please feel free to leave comments below.

#crohn's disease #capitalistic patriarchical medicine #alternative treatments #chronic illness #advertising #medicine #Healthcare #doctor who #drugs #dying

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centaurianthropology · 6 years

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The Magnus Archives ‘Nesting Instinct’ (S03E22) Analysis

A creepy crawly story layers with trouble at the Institute, and an Archivist who is the absolute worst at handling interpersonal conflict. Come on in to hear what I think about ‘Nesting Instinct.’

Well, first it’s interesting to really start to get a sense of Elias’ limitations, which are apparently pretty extensive. I’d suspected for a while that he was overstating his power, comprehension and reach, and this was apparently the week when all that came home to roost. Because Jon shouting down Elias for his repeated bullshit and his tendency to murder the most potentially useful people was glorious and welcome, and the fact that Elias more or less had to take it (and then take Jon reassuring Melanie that they would deal with Elias just as soon as it was convenient while Elias was standing right there) was really satisfying.

But there wasn’t much else he could do, is there? Because Jon is rapidly realizing exactly how little Elias actually knows. He apparently has no idea what Gertrude figured out about the Unknowing, and his trigger-happiness has hindered progress toward his goals more often than it seems to have helped anything beyond his own raging need to remain in control. And now Jon is wrenching that control away from him, sick of being the puppet of a man who doesn’t know half of what he insinuates. Two of the assistants are in outright revolt, only one other is actually doing his job, and despite Elias calling in Peter Lukas, he apparently didn’t manage to do anything helpful in order to retrieve Jon from the Circus.

Elias likes to think of himself as a master manipulator, but he doesn’t actually seem that great at thinking on his feet or handling real crises. He likes intricate, carefully thought-out plans. But when it comes to the day-to-day more often than not he makes decisions that are as poor as Jon’s. Every time he’s managed to out-maneuver everyone, he’s still had his ability to See acting for him and allowing him to plan ahead. But the Circus is well-hidden, and without his Sight, Elias is apparently useless. He can’t even figure out how to make the Archives a livable environment or convince Melanie to stop trying to murder him.

It does worry me somewhat what he’ll do under all this loss of control, because so far his track record seems to end in violence. I’m glad that Jon managed to talk Melanie down, at least for now. I’m fascinated that she’s essentially a much more proactive version of Tim. While Tim is buried in the despair of being imprisoned by the Beholding, Melanie sees the main hurdle to their freedom as Elias, and is more than willing to roll the dice on his murder in order to get them all free. Again, her plan is … less than stellar. She figured a knife would be the best way to go about things? I mean, sure, but he still knows you’re coming. If Melanie really wanted to be smart, she’d pool her knowledge with Basira, who’s been digging through the library, and Tim, who has probably been contemplating this exact thing for a while, and figure out a way to get to Elias without him seeing them coming.

I know that Melanie’s driving instinct is to appear competent, but this fear and anger is clearly blinding her to better and more careful planning. And because she’s the one who keeps flinging herself bodily at the problem that is Elias, I am very worried that she’s the one who’s going to catch it in the neck when he finally snaps. Because he can’t kill off another one of his archivists so close to the Unknowing, and Melanie is both right there and not necessary to prevent the apocalypse. I think the only thing protecting her right now is that she is a genuinely good researcher and they need all hands on deck for this Unknowing thing. Particularly if Tim is still non-cooperative, and Martin can only do so much (and because his performance apparently has an inverse relationship with how worried about Jon he is), and Basira is less assistant and more fairly-chill-prisoner, Melanie is a necessity at the moment. But the second her usefulness dips or the danger she poses to Elias becomes more than he wants to tolerate … I really think Jon needs to be in the office way more than he’s planning to be. Protecting his assistants from a homicidal boss isn’t really possible if you’re halfway around the world chasing down cold leads.

We also learned this week that, if Elias has basically been giving Jon every box Gertrude marked as potentially relevant to the Unknowing, then Elias has no real organization or thought for the information he’s doling out. So the tape with Michael was given not by Elias and not by Michael, but by Gertrude. Given what we know about her at this point, I think it’s fairly safe to assume that it was the statement she considered relevant. Michael himself was never relevant in her eyes, and his interruption and Jon’s realization about his previous position was nothing more than happy accident.

So Elias is playing Jon, but can only do so with Gertrude’s knowledge. Because Gertrude really was the only one who knew what was going on. Elias may be all-seeing in the moment, but he can’t piece together a puzzle. He’s a literalist, and so anything metaphorical or complex seems beyond him.

So what he and Jon know about the Unknowing, they know because they’ve pieced it together from Gertrude. Mostly. They know that Nikola was created specifically for the Unknowing before killing her creator. We know she requires a whole lot of intact human skin, and at least one very powerful artifact (my money is on the ancient skin and/or Jon’s flayed skin) in order to enact it.

But there’s further information starting to come in, totally separate from what Gertrude knew, and this information will apparently come from Jon himself. His powers are clearly growing, possibly exponentially. He’s already making leaps of logic he can’t explain, but which shortly thereafter turned out to be correct. I think some part of him is starting to perceive the larger world he’s weaving, and through that picture, he’s picking out details and facts that he shouldn’t be able to get to yet. Through those connections, he realized that that Gerard Kaey was working with Gertrude shortly before his death. Whether he knew he was dying, or Gertrude helped him die is unclear, though of all people who wouldn’t be fooled by Gertrude, I have to imagine that the son of Mary Kaey would be foremost amongst them.

I’m sure we’ll learn more about what they did together going forward, since Jon is apparently tracking that plot-thread now. I hope he doesn’t expect to take a trip to New Zealand when everything is heating up so close to home. Having Jon within the country but distant has been difficult enough for his assistants. Having him be halfway around the world could prove to be disastrous.

At least no matter where he tracks Gertrude and Gerard, he will be able to piece together a coherent narrative. Apparently while reading statements, all languages are understandable to him. That ability falls apart when it’s not a statement, however, since he couldn’t read a wedding invitation, even if it’s for the wedding of a lonely middle-aged Frenchman to another flavor of the Hive. So his powers are still very much limited to the story, and the narrative. Beyond that, well, beyond that Jon needs help.

NOT THAT HE’S GOING TO GET IT IF THAT’S HIS APPROACH TO TALKING TO HIS ASSISTANTS. Captain Oblivious and Mr Martyr-Complex attempting to have an honest conversation about exactly how bad things had gotten was, on reflection, something I should have never expected to go well. Jon just asking if Martin was ‘okay’ with recording statements basically means Martin’s going to bury himself in his ‘everything is fine’ defense because he wants to be helpful and make Jon proud of him. And Martin trying to hint at everything falling apart and Jon needing to be there for the others sailed right over Jon’s oblivious head, because unless you slap Jon upside the head with the dead halibut of truth, he will never notice it. I at least think both of them realized how poorly the conversation went, but I also doubt either of them will be attempting to try again without some serious encouragement.

Yes, it’s perfectly in character, and yes it ratchets up the tension for Jon to remain oblivious to how bad things are getting and Martin to pretend everything’s fine while gazing meaningfully at Jon in some idiotic hope that Jon would recognize the clue bus before it ran him down. But seriously, my dudes. One of you needs to be straight-up honest and aware. Jon’s falling apart and getting more and more powerful without any good anchor to his humanity. Martin’s falling apart trying to keep the Archives functional with Tim on strike, Melanie homicidal, Basira blissfully checked out, and Daisy being someone Martin would be happy never to see again. And neither of them has the courage to just admit it and ask for help.

Kudos on Georgie for telling Jon to damn well talk to Martin, but next time she might need to include an instruction manual.

Conclusion

It’s nice to hear from the Filth again for a story, even if it feels fairly unrelated, only tying into Gertrude’s movements before Gerard’s death. As always when it comes to the Filth, the story was nicely stomach-churning, and the Filth’s worshippers still seem to be the lovelorn folk who are desperate for true affection. Which is deeply creepy in its own right, considering that they all get consumed by insects and disease.

It’s also interesting to find out that Gertrude and Gerard worked together. Given that he grew up with his mother and her knowledge, I doubt he would be as taken in by Gertrude as others were. I’m interested to see not only what their interactions were like, but also what their eventual split was like.

And finally we have the two most emotionally constipated men in England (if for different reasons) trying to talk to one another in something vaguely resembling a meaningful exchange. Did it happen? No. Will there probably be dire consequences because these two idiots can’t talk? Oh, almost certainly. Are we still not at all certain how much beyond ‘world-ending-need-to-stop-it’ Jon’s actually told his assistants? Definitely.

It’s absolutely in character that this conversation would be so disastrously inadequate, but someone smarter—Georgie is the best bet at this point—needs to lock them together in a room until they actually talk through all the shit they’ve both experienced. Because it’s that, or all that shit comes out while they’re in the middle of the apocalypse/neck deep in mannequins/trapped in an old waxworks together. And that doesn’t help anyone.

#The Magnus Archives #analysis

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miraculousmidnightreviews · 6 years

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War Storm Book Review

By Victoria Aveyard

3.5/5 stars

Spoilers for Red Queen, Glass Sword, and King’s Cage

Summary: Mare has endured the worst of betrayals. But as Maven’s obsession with her grows, Mare, along with Montfort and the Scarlet Guard, must put her tentative trust in Cal and his silvers. It is the only way to win the war. While both sides prepare for an inevitable conclusion, Cal and Mare struggle to establish a world in which reds and silvers can coexist peacefully. In the process, they learn the means by which they accomplish this are just as important as ending years of prejudice and hate.

The Romance (minor spoilers)

I have a feeling this entire review is going to be full of minor spoilers. I’m sorry, but there’s no other way to express my feelings.

First of all, Mare and Cal. Love them. Ship them. So. Hard. This book was torture to get through because Mare and Cal are now little stubborn shitheads who both want basically the same thing but believe in majorly different ways of getting there. I was not okay with the King’s Cage ending, alright? It ruined me. I had hope for War Storm but now...well, read it, and you’ll see what I mean.

On the bright side, I am totally here for the banter between Mare and Cal, especially while they’re at odds. It relieves tension among chapters of suspense and the foreboding sense that someone will soon die.

Cal = Mare’s giant teddy bear.

Evangeline, my love

Yes, Evangeline totally deserves her own section in this review.

I think we can all agree that no one really liked Evangeline until she received her own chapters in King’s Cage. If I’m being honest, I didn’t truly jump on the I-love-Evangeline-Samos bandwagon until this book. Maybe, it’s because spilling Mare’s blood isn’t a priority for her anymore. Probably. Definitely.

I truly enjoyed the relationship (friendship?) that developed between Mare and Evangeline during War Storm. It really showed the growth of these two characters nicely. Plus, I’m a real sucker for that enemies to friends trope.

Also, Evangeline and Elane are really cute together.

Point of Views (minor spoilers)

As you know from the previous Red Queen books, Aveyard has written from the point of view of other characters in addition to Mare. I’m always wary of series in which authors switch to or include POVs other than the main character’s. What if I don’t like these characters? In the end, it’s a 50/50 chance as to whether or not I’ll enjoy a new perspective. Sometimes, I grow to admire a character I once despised, and other times, I end up favoring one POV over another. (Let’s face it. The latter happens 100% of the time.)

In War Storm, Aveyard once again switches up the POVs. I won’t spoil the surprise as to who gets their own chapters since this is the non-spoiler section, but I will say that, of course, Mare still remains the main throughout the book. Speaking of POVs, I wasn’t too pleased with one of them. For me, it ruined the pacing of the book. I would get bored with that chapter, and then I would have to put the book down in favor of doing something else. Those chapters just wrecked my reading flow. Right when I got to an exciting part, racing from page to page, I turned to the next chapter and there it was. My reading block. Ugh.

Thanks for reading! We hoped you enjoyed our non-spoilery review! Come back later for the spoilery stuff, or keep reading at your own risk! Check out our other reviews here.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Pacing & POVs but with spoilers

Continuing with the POV thing: Who the fuck is Iris and why should I care? I am not a fan of the different POVs. Just when I was getting used to Cameron in King’s Cage, BAM! She’s gone! And in her place is this girl, Iris. Not a fan, bro. (Yes, I do understand dramatic irony, but I did not think it was necessary for this book.)

But kudos to Victoria Aveyard. After reading, I now know who Iris really is inside, and I do care. A little bit. Not enough for her to get her own chapters, though.

Mare, Cal, and Evangeline keep their POVs in this novel, and I’m cool with that. Actually, I was surprised at how cool I was with that while reading.

Another thing: the pacing. My god, it’s a little bit of torture. First, let me be honest: I really wanted to like this book and give it a better rating than I did. It’s a part of one of my favorite series, and I love the author. Now don’t get me wrong. I still enjoyed it, but not as much as any of the other books in the series. It’s just the pacing. There were really intriguing parts, like Evangeline’s meddling, and Mare secretly planning to take Cal’s throne, but then there would be parts, like anything Iris-related, that bored me a lot.

When War Storm was good it was real good, but when it was bad, it was real boring.

Farley AHHH

I love Farley so freaking much. I’m not one for children, usually, but Clara and Farley are adorable.

Okay, the one thing I really love about this book is the friendship between Farley and Mare. Honestly, it’s more like they’re sisters. Aveyard did such a great job at showing how much they’ve developed as people and how far they’ve come, despite setbacks. Really, Farley stepping into a role as Mare’s big sister is what I live for.

Also, the way she doesn’t judge Mare’s feelings for Cal while simultaneously wanting to flay him alive is just perfection.

Mare & Cal & Maven & Everyone Else

Ever since Maven betrayed Mare, I dropped him hard. I’ve always been a Cal fan (even when he’s a dumbass). I know there are people in the fandom who love Maven for reasons I cannot understand, and I’m not here to judge you or come for you or whatever. But I do think Maven needed to die and he did. The end.

Is it terrible for me to say Ptolemus grew on me? I loved Shade as much as anyone, but I think his death was circumstantial. I’m giving Ptolemus a second chance. I hope he has a short story whenever those come out.

I’m a little disappointed in Evangeline. Yes, it’s in character of her to escape in that way, but I really wanted her to have a badass showdown, helping Mare and Cal. Oh well, I can’t wait for her short story with Elane.

Montfort

Ah, Montfort. Good ole Montfort. I don’t have much to say about this new terrain our characters venture across, but I feel like I should? I liked the way Aveyard described its government. She did a nice job introducing the world to her readers. Yay, democracy!

THAT ENDING WHAT

Alrighty, bitches. Maven Calore is fucking dead like he deserves (by Mare’s hand no less), and it was kind of underwhelming. I liked the way Aveyard wrote it, but no one else died in that battle, really? Like, not even Granny Calore? I just wish she had killed more people, that’s all. It would have been more realistic in a war setting, and also, it would have taken care of some problematic asshats. (Side note: I fucking support Volo’s death. That was good.)

I get it, though. It’s hard to kill off characters. It’s a balancing act; you can’t go all Game of Thrones on this shit, but you can’t let everyone have a happily ever after either. It’s complicated.

Seriously, though, what the fuck? Why are Mare and Cal not together like I dreamt they would be? Come on, Aveyard, why? I’m not cool with this ending. I NEED MORE FROM THEM. WHEN ARE THESE FREAKING SHORT STORIES COMING OUT?!

Thanks for reading! We hoped you enjoyed both our non-spoilery and spoilery reviews! Check out our other reviews here!

—Alexa

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thelegendofclarke · 7 years

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GoT Preferences

I was tagged by @lyannasnow and @stark, THANK YOU LOVELIES!

Do you watch the episodes when they air? Usually I don’t because my family doesn’t love me and won’t get HBO or HBO Go. BUT I did get to watch all of s7 on the airdates because @daenerys-stormborn is a beautiful soul and let me watch her rabb.it live stream!

How often do you rewatch it? Do you rewatch it from season one? Once is usually more than enough tbh.

Do you rewatch the previous episode before the next one airs? No, the recaps at the beginning are a good enough refresher usually.

Do you eat anything while watching? if so, what do you eat? Hahaaaa no I don’t! I am not allowed to eat while I am watching episodes because I usually end up throwing or spilling whatever it is while I yell at my computer screen... Watching GoT with me is honestly a full body experience.

One character that everyone seems to like that you don’t care much for: lol absofuckinglutely not.

Your 3 favorite pairings: Sansa x anyone who will be nice to her and feed her lemoncakes, Braime, and Gendrya.

Favorite scene: It’s a solid tie between the Jon/Sansa reunion scene in s6 and the Sansa/Arya reunion scene in s7.

One character you wish got more appreciation: Missandei!

Fanfic or nah? I don’t understand the question... Do people, like, NOT fanfic!? That sounds horrible?!?

Favorite quote: WHEN 📣 THE 📣 SNOW 📣 FALLS 📣 AND 📣 THE 📣 WHITE 📣 WINDS 📣 BLOW 📣 THE 📣 LONE 📣 WOLF 📣 DIES 📣 BUT 📣 THE 📣 PACK 📣 SURVIVES 📣

Do you avoid spoilers? Like the gotdamn plague.

Favorite house words: Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken (bitches!)

One character you’d bring back from the dead: Rickon. I think it’s time for him to come back from Bear Island now.

One character you’d kill, or kill sooner than they were killed: Janos Slynt! Like honestly, fuck that guy.

Direwolves or dragons? Direwolvesss. Drogon whomst?!

Which was more satisfying: Ramsay dying or Joffrey dying? Ramsay! That scene was just such amazing and ironic poetic justice. I know a lot of people don’t like that scene because Sansa didn’t execute Ramsay the “Stark way,” but the thing is SHE DID! Sansa passed the sentence; she looked into Ramsay’s eyes; she heard his last words; she KNEW (probably better than most save a few people) that he deserved to die. And i will never not find it just a little poetic, and far more than just a little ironic, that Sansa used Ramsay’s own hounds. The hounds he used to terrify and torture and kill so many people, and turned them right back on him on him. She took one of his biggest sadistic pleasures and used it against him, she made him as helpless as terrified as he made so many others (including her). The hunter became the hunted, the taunter became the taunted, the flayed man ~GOT FLAYED BITCH!~ And I know I am rambling, but seriously... It was POETIC FUCKING CINEMA!

Wildlings or the dothraki? Wildlings.

Favorite Lannister?: Jaime.

Favorite stark? Sansa! QUEEN IN THE NORTH!! QUEEN IN THE NORTH!!!

Would you rather be able to be resurrected anytime, but gain scars and all like Beric, or become a faceless man? Be able to be resurrected with scars! There are like sooo many things I want to do where I would probably (definitely) end up dying. It would be awsome to be able to do them all and not ever worry about it!

Would you rather have the rebellion tv show or the conquest tv show? Robert’s Rebellion. I’m really not sure if I could possibly give less fucks about Aegon’s Conquest tbh.

Tagging: @direwolvess, @him-e, @gendryxaryatrash, @sansarya, @bex-xo, @dreamofspring, @umsansa, @soapieturner, @oberynmartell, @valyriansword, @starisation, @smanderberrypez, @sardoniyx, and anyone else who wants to play :)

#thank yooouuu!!!#tag games #about me #alys memes #alys answers #got for ts

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lykanthropa · 7 years

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April, April!

Chapter 2: Revenge á la Medic

April Fools' Day – one year later

Scout looks at his list with all the pranks he wants to play on his team today. Well, wanted to play. But he cannot. Because none of the team can be found. All are gone. For no reason! And that for days. He's all alone in the base, and if he's honest, it's a bit scary. Especially at night... He lies in bed like a pancake. He had never noticed what eerie noises were heard at night in the base. A knock, almost rhythmic. A howl as if the wind were blowing through the base (but there were no doors or windows open! Scout had checked to be sure, well, just to make sure nothing came in - like a monster... or something...). Then there were footsteps in the corridor, who came closer and had stopped at his door. Jeremy had been holding his breath, listening. But the steps were no longer heard. Did someone or something stand at his door all night? He couldn't sleep anymore. He kept sight of his bedroom door all night. Only when the sun finally rose and filled his room with brightness, he had the courage to stand up and look. Of course, only with his baseball bat. That one should have been there, but the corridor was empty. Last night, he heard no footsteps, but a scream... At least Scout thinks he heard a scream. And the voice sounded exactly like Snipes'. But it was too far away and could only be heard briefly. But he must have imagined that. As well as the steps, the knock and the howling of the wind. Because he remembered something that Medic had once said. The human mind is highly complex and fear is irr… national? Never mind! Somehow he had said something like that. And now Jeremy is sitting here, on the sofa in the common room staring at his list. A list, with ingenious pranks that he had worked out cleanly over the year. He put the names of everyone on the list and what he wanted to do with them (Pyro he had crossed out). But no victims, no pranks.

With a sigh, Scout leans back and remembers last year. After Sniper's shits he had searched for Jeremy and always had his machete at the ready. Apparently he really wanted to fillet him. But Scout was just too fast for him. Well, maybe Scout would be also pissed off when, after such an incident, he no longer had a natural relationship with a toilet. Pfft! Toilet. Yeah. Snipes is an outdoorsman. Nature is his toilet. So why the fuss?

Spy had ignored him for days. Had always wrinkled his nose when Scout had entered the room. He knew he was waiting for an apology. He had always said sorry. But apparently that was not enough. This guy really thinks he's something better. What does his mother just see in him?

Demoman. In a brief moment of carelessness, Jeremy got caught by him (it's not always easy to guard against eight people at the same time). And before he knew it, he was naked from the waist down and lies over Demos knee. Never before had someone spanked his ass. And it had hurt. After the spanking Jeremy had rubbed his sore bottom and huffy made Demoman the accusation that he probably likes to spank children. But Tavish had just answered that Jeremy's puppy license had long ago expired. Sober Demo is a stuffy old man and boring. Just like everyone else.

Soldier returned safely to the base. But only days later, without Engie's truck and with a different look. Merasmus was probably so angry about his intrusion into his territory and the accusations that he had turned him into a raccoon (when Scout saw him for the first time, he inevitably had to think of the run over raccoon he found on the street - was that maybe a soldier, too?). Everyone had tried to change him back (except for Engie, who had not spoken to Soldier for weeks), but Solly didn't seem to mind his new life as a raccoon. He even seemed quite unconcerned. Nevertheless, he insisted on putting on his beloved helmet. And Jeremy had actually believed that the glue in the helmet had long since dried. As if. Everyone had to help pull the helmet off his head, tearing his fur hair off. They literally had flay him alive (his screams had been heard throughout the base). With his bald head Soldier had no desire to be a raccoon anymore and he had no choice but to be healed by the respawn. Since then, Soldier carried his whip around with him, banging on Scout's bottom with it whenever he crossed his path (not least because Jeremy had fumbled around with his maggot farm). A Disciplinary Action, as he always said. And Scout believes that the whip even bears this name.

Pyro... was as usual. Three April Fools' jokes and the guy had not checked that he was fooled. But on the contrary. Scout felt more fooled by Pyro.

Engineer was angry with Scout, too. But he was even more angry at Soldier. He had explained him why he had taken his truck, but the Texan didn't want to hear about it. He and Sniper drove the van to search for the truck and found him in Ghost Fort, where a small, stubborn ghost with a gibus hat had settled down on the back load. Even after Engineer had to take a shower three times a day to wash off the black paint and not be able to wear his helmet for a while, due to the thick bump (Engineer the prettiest unicorn), he had forgiven Scout relatively quickly. Engie is not resentful.

Just like Heavy. He couldn't eat a sandwich for a while, but he didn't blame Scout for too long. But he will never make a sandwich himself again. He had asked Medic to keep the sandwiches for Heavy separately. The Russian is probably afraid that Scout could steal the sandwich from him again, but Jeremy never plays the same pranks. For example, this year he wanted to notch the legs of his bed. Jeremy wanted to know if, when the bed breaks away under his big butt, Heavy crashes through the floor. He has so much fat on his ribs, he probably wouldn't notice the impact.

And Medic... Medic surprised him the most. Or rather made him unsure. After his reaction to Scout's prank, the runner had thought he would quarter him with his saw. But quite the contrary. The next day Medic was as usual. As if nothing had happened at all. Of course Scout had kept away from him anyway. Because maybe he only wanted to lull him into a false sense of security to catch him when he least expected it. But nothing happened. Maybe the Doc is suffering from Alzheimer's? This glance… Jeremy hadn't forgotten his look. So hateful. Scout almost wet his pants. The old man can sometimes be so scary. “Maybe I should also delete Medic from the list…” Despite the April Fools' Day, there are still rules. Jeremy had learned that now. Never lay hands on the sanctuaries of the others.

Medic – Doves Heavy – Sasha/Sandwich Demoman – Alcohol Soldier – Maggots/ Helmets Spy – Suit/Cigarettes Sniper – Van/ Coffee Cup (Scout had actually glue the cup together, but had Mundy thanked for that? No. He's such so ungrateful…) Engineer – Truck/Toolbox/Toys Pyro - ???

There is not much left for pranks. But Jeremy is not for nothing the master of pranks. But if there is no one to be kidding, it makes no sense. And on top of that, the camera is gone. He had spent half a year looking for it. But it just disappeared. He cannot remember where he left it. “Everything's shit...”

The silence rolls over the boy. Again. He cannot stand it anymore. Of course he can make noise for 9, but if all except him is gone, then he just don't feel like it. He feels pretty bad. Jeremy dread to think when he must spend a whole night in this big base all alone again. Where are all of them? Almost be out of his mind, he jumps up and screams. “Damn it, guys! Wheerreee aaaarrrreee yoooooouuuuuu!!??” But stop! Scout suddenly has a thought. What if the team wants to play a trick on him? After all, today is the April Fools' Day. However, they had never done that before. And why they spend days hiding from him? It doesn't make any sense anyway... But suppose they really want to play a trick on him, then Jeremy will go in search of them to forestall them. “You won't get me, old farts.”

Scout stuffs the list in his pocket and storms out of the common room. When he runs around the corner, he bumps into someone. “What the…?” After Scout had recovered from the shock, he recognizes the person standing in front of him. “Doc? Where the heck were you?” Medic doesn't answer, breathing hard instead. He has to lean against the wall to hold himself. Only then does Jeremy realize that he is carrying blood on his clothes. And his head seems to be wounded. “What happened?!” “Scout… Finally I found you…” Medic falls down on his knees. “You have to help me. The others…” “What? What is with the others? What happened?” Scout kneels down to Medic, looks at him worriedly. “They are badly injured… You have to help me to take care of them… otherwise they will die…” “Yes! Yes, of course I will help! Come!” Scout helps Medic to get up and together they go down the corridor. He has to help the doctor while walking. He limps while walking. “Now tell me what happened.” “I wanted… to work on an experiment... And for that, I needed the help of others. But something went wrong...” “Why didn’t you ask me if I help?” “For the simple reason that you never take my work seriously.” “…………” “There was an explosion… The ceiling collapsed and the others were buried under the rubble. The exit was also blocked. It took me days to get out of this room…” “You were locked up and I didn't know... Why didn't I hear the explosion?” “To experiment, I use the basement room. As you know, this is soundproof.” “And the others...?” “They are… badly injured… If we do not hurry, they will die.” “Wait a sec! That’s not too bad, isn’t it? I mean, we have the respawn.” “The machine has been damaged by the explosion and... has failed.” “W-what's that supposed to mean failed?” “When we die, we cannot be brought back.” After Medic said that, it rattled in Scout's head. And then he stops, looks at Medic skeptically. “Is this…a joke? I mean, today is April Fools' Day and…” “Do you have only your stupid jokes in mind?” Medic suddenly yells at him. He looks at him with exactly the same angry look as a year ago. Scout almost jumps out of his skin. He hadn't expected such an outburst. “Finally grow up! Lives are at stake! In addition, you should finally understand that we do not stoop to your childlike level!” “…………” “Gut. If you do not want to help me, I will save them alone. But I already tell you that it will be difficult for you in the future with the knowledge of having human lives on your conscience. People with whom you spent years and who was your second family.” “Okay, okay. I'm so sorry. You are right.” Scout catches up with Medic and helps him walk. “Listen, Doc… Last year with your dove… It was really just a prank.” Medic sighs beaten. “I'm not resentful, Scout. And now listen carefully, so that we can finally check off this topic. You have acted in your childish levity. As so often. You will be grown up.” “…………” “But not in this life anymore…” “What?” “I did not say anything. Come on, we have to hurry.” “Y-yes, okay!”

They reach the basement. The entrance is located in the rear part of the base. A scary place and quite lonely. Had Scout perhaps not imagined Sniper's scream? Maybe he was buried by the collapsing ceiling just then. But the basement is soundproof… I don’t understand anything. “Come on, Scout! Go inside and pull them out from under the rubble. I can not do that with my injuries.” “Leave it to me!” Scout storms into the basement. He's so obsessed by the thought with saving his people that he doesn't notice that there are no pieces of debris at all. And no injured team members. Everything is as usual. Perplexed, Jeremy stops and looks around in confusion. He needs a moment to check that something is wrong with Medics story. “Hey… There is nothing here – Aaahhh!” Suddenly Medic stands behind him and a syringe is in his arm. He only sees how a white liquid disappears under his skin, before he breaks free from him. With scared eyes Scout moves away from Medic, who gives him a wide, eerie smile. “Doc…?!” The boy is completely taken by surprise. “You are really a good boy, Scout. Childish and cheeky, but if we really need your help, we can count on you.” “Where… where are the others?” “Do not worry. You will be able to see them one last time.” “What… what have you…?” The strengths disappear from Scout's legs and he falls down to his knees. “Is that a joke?” he screams desperately. “A joke? Does it feel like a joke? Does it looks like a joke?” Medic kneels down to Scout. No sign of a limp anymore. “How many times do I have to tell you that I never make jokes.” “…………” Jeremy doesn't know what to answer. There is no time for that anyway, because the world becomes black.

When Scout wakes up, the first thing he sees is a white ceiling, and the first thing he hears, cooing doves. The infirmary. Medic’s infirmary. Instinctively, Jeremy tries to sit up, but his body doesn't want to obey him. He cannot even move his head. The disobedience of his body washes away the last remnant of sleep drunkenness in one fell swoop. He's so panicked that he doesn't notice that a scream escapes from his mouth. He remembers. Medic had lured him into a trap and then drugged him. For a brief moment, just a moment, Scout hopes that it's just a joke from Medic. A ribald joke. That would suit to a crazy doctor like the doc. But before he fainted, he had assured him that it was no joke, that he never makes jokes. And the runner believes him. The heart beats painfully against his chest. It doesn't even do that after a day of racing. It pumps so hard that Jeremy can clearly feel the thickened veins on the back of his hand and his forehead. But he also feels something else. Solid straps that span his torso and legs. He's breathing heavily in and out. Stay cool. Stay cool. It doesn't matter what Medic is up to. It will not be too bad. We are a team. And even if he should… kill me. We have the respawn. Maybe that's just his way of spanking my ass, giving me a lesson. Yes… Yes, that must be it. Scout is reluctant to admit that he's doubting his own thoughts.

“Hallo!” “Aaahh!” Suddenly, Medic stands over him and smiles good-humouredly. “You woke up on time. Very good.” “D-doc?! What is that?” “Do not shout like that. You scare my babies.” “I can’t move!” “Of course. I injected you with a paralyzing drug, so you do not fidget.” “What?!?” “You are paralyzed from head to toe. Permanently.” “What do you…mean?” “You will never be able to move again.” The blue eyes with the frightened look are moving panicking in their caves back and forth. “Do not worry. You can also feel no pain. Promised.” “What are you planning with me?” Medic crosses his arms and leans casually against the operating table Scout is lying on. “Well, I have decided to take a close look at your brain. And I do not mean that I will X-ray your head. Hehehe…” Medic pulls out his bone saw and holds it in front of his face to view the sharp teeth. “You sick bastard!” “As I said before - lower your voice. I know you are scared. Or do you want to gainsay that?” “What do you want with my…?” Scout can hardly pronounce it. “Well, after what you did last year, I became curious as to whether your brain has normal size. Because all the stupid things you do every day can not fit in there. Unless everything else is missing.” “You do this all… because of this little prank? It was just a joke! Just a joke, just a joke, just a joke!! It's not my fault that you cannot handle it!” Angrily, Medic slams his hands on the table to the right and left of Scout's head and bends down to the boy, his face wrinkled with anger. “You still do not seem to understand it! What was just fun for you, was pure horror for me! I did not even get an apology from you! Nobody - nobody! - lays hands on my börds!” The doves flutter violently with their wings as Medic's loud voice echoes through the room. Feathers sail through the air. “You played a trick on the wrong guy.” The German stands up again. “And you still have not learned your lesson.” He takes out a piece of paper. “I found that in your pocket. A nice little list of pranks that you wanted to play on us again this year. Oh, this time you wanted to replace Demoman's eye patch with a cork, replace Heavy's weights with stuffed animals, and paint Engineers Sentry in the opposing team color. And what else do I have to see? Even my name is on it.” “I-I wanted to cross it out! For real!” “Hmm… If that is really true, maybe you have learned something. It is just a pity that it is too late now. To be honest, I do not really care if you play jokes on the others. They are always lenient with you anyway. These fools...” “What do you mean by that?” Medic crumples the note and drops it to the ground. Then he bends back down to Scout. “You wanted to see them, did not you?” Scout doesn't answer. He has a bad feeling in his stomach when Medic said that. “Do not worry. I fasten you, so you do not slip down.” “W-what?” Medic grabs the operating table and turns it diagonally to a sharp angle. Jeremy's stomach tingles as he moves, and in fact he fears he'll fall. But the straps actually hold him. But he wished they wouldn't do it, as he sees the rest of the team. The world crashes over Scout. His eyes see the horror, but the mind hangs. They are on the other side of the room. Dead. Every single one of them. Blood everywhere. Demoman's body sits on the floor, leaning against the wall. The head hangs over. The skullcap is missing and thus gives a good view of the brain. Pyro is sitting next to him. Where once his mask was, there is now a skeletonized skull. Sniper hangs upside down on the wall, his stomach is cut open and parts of his innards hang out and lie partially on the ground beneath him. His dead, cold eyes seem to be staring at Scout. Engineer’s and Soldier’s torso were nailed to the wall, their lower abdomen is missing. They were sewn together on the sides. Their blood had left a dark trail on the white wall on the way down. And just a little further on a shelf, the heads of Spy and Heavy were placed. Underneath are their bodies. Scouts mouth and eyes are wide open. No sound escapes from his throat. “Well, what do you say? Beautiful, right?” “You…killed them…” whispers Jeremy, filled with sheer horror. “Obviously.” “Respawn…” Scout cannot even complete a sentence anymore. “What? Oh! The respawn? I had said that the respawn machine had been damaged by an explosion. Ha! That you really believed that” laughs Medic. “Of course I manipulated the machine. They will never come back. Not even if the machine is reset.” “Aaaaaahhhhhhrrggggghhh! Why? Why did you do that, you sick bastard! They didn’t harm you!” “...they did not harm me, no. But before I explain it, let us watch a short movie.” Medic turns the operating table to the left. On the wall hangs a canvas. The doctor pushes the prepared projector out of the corner and positions it next to Scout. “What's that supposed to be?” Scout has a hoarse voice. “You will see.” The projector is turned on and a moment later it throws pictures to the canvas. Sniper is seen, drinking from his coffee cup. A little later it shatters in his hand and the contents spill over his legs. “You still know that, do you?” Of course Scout knows this scene. “You had the camera all the time?” “Of course. You left it in my infirmary. Actually, I wanted to delete the recordings. But I decided to show it to the others. I wanted to make them understand that they can not just let you get away with it. But do you know what they said? You are still a child. A big kid and you will grow up someday. We just have to be patient with you. All this they said, after seeing once again with their own eyes how you humbled them. For the third time. All year long, I've spent convincing them to keep a tighter rein on you. But they always said the same thing, remained stubborn. And the today's April Fools' Day was getting closer. So I made a decision.” While Scout stares at the canvas, Medic leans over him, whispering in his ear. “They are dead because of you, Scout. It is your fault.” “No…” “Yes~” “You…killed them…for that…” “I was angry with them and I could not allow them to get in my way when I take care of you.” “The administrator will find out!” “Of course I will hardly be able to hide it. But I have already come up with a pretty story. I will just say we were attacked by the BLUs. Middle of the night. Quite simple. And why should not she believe me? There are many mercenaries who violate the contract. And the BLUs really hate us. And I... I hate the BLUs and you all. I really hope that my new team will be made up of people who will not stab me in the back and who respect my work. God, how I hated all of you.” “B-but we had always got along well.” “I just played it to you. You really ought to know how well I can do that. All year long, I had a tremendous anger in my stomach because of your stupid prank, but I pretended that nothing had ever happened between us. You never meant anything to me.” “…………” On the canvas, Engineer is seen, spilled with the black paint and how his tools dropping on his exposed head. Medic shakes his head. “Scout, Scout, Scout. You was not thinking anything of it, did you?” “…………” “Now when you see that all, do you realize that you have made a mistake?” Jeremy doesn't answer. But Medic hadn't expected an answer anyway. He turns off the projector before he's seen on the film. He moves the operating table back to its original position. “It is time now.” “Doc… please…” “I'm sorry, my boy. But it is too late.” Medic picks up his bone saw. He pauses and looks down at Scout. “When was the last time you tell your mother that you love her?” And then it breaks out of Scout. Big tears trickle down his cheeks. A sob escapes his trembling lips. “I hope you take this experience with you to make it better in the next life. I will start now. I will extract your brain. As I said, you will not feel any pain. I took care of that. After all, I am not a monster... When your brain is removed, your personality is erased and everything that makes you the person you are. You will die. Your heart, however, will continue to beat and all other organs remain a little active, which are not dependent on the brain. Do not worry. I will stay with you until it is over.” Scout doesn't answer anymore. With burning, watery eyes he stares at the ceiling. Medic opens the straps and gives him an injection. “Just for safety.” But it is as if Scout is not there. He lies there, waiting for his end while thinking of his Ma. “Here we go. And do not forget what I have told you before. Fear is irrational.” He doesn't know if Medic had already started sawing his skull. He does move his head, but he doesn't feel pain. Is it really happening right now? Will his head just opened?

An unusual calm overcomes the runner all of a sudden. And he's happy about it. The thought of his head being hollowed out alive like a pumpkin robs his mind. But... he cannot change it. He cannot change his situation and he cannot change that the whole team is dead. That was his second family. He feels betrayed and deceived by Medic. But the worst part is that he actually blames himself for everything. Something thick runs down his forehead between his eyes. It will not be either water nor sweat. Soon he will only be a shadow of himself. It's time to come to terms with himself. Maybe... I really deserve that... I'm sorry, guys! And Ma... I love you, Ma! I don't know if I was always the son you could be proud of. But if I had the chance to go on living, I would hug you. I would always hug you and tell you how much I love you! I would help you in the household and buy you flowers regularly and... and... for you I would get along with Spy! Sometimes I thought you love him more than me, but it was wrong to think that. I'm so sorry! “Ahah ... ahahahahahahahaaaaaahh! There it is! There it is! Oh my God! It is really small. Ahahahahahaaaa! Take a look, Scout!” Medic stands over him, holding the bloody, slimy organ in his face. “Just look how small it is. Hmm... maybe you really was not your fault for your immature behavior. Oh, how cute~ Archimedes is just settling in your skull right now. I think I'll keep your head so he can nest in it. He seems to feel very comfortable in it.” “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” For Jeremy it seems like a dream when he jumps off the operating table and takes refuge in a corner, at the same time packed with pure horror. He stands with the wall in his back and stares at Medic. When he sees him standing there with his brain in his hands, his shaky hands shoot up and scrabble over his head wildly. Everything still seems to be there. Scout is terribly confused. “What the hell…? What the hell!!?” Laughing softly, Medic leans over the operating table. “Let me tell you something, Scout.” Jeremy holds his breath. “April fool.” He's not sure if he had heard correctly. Therefore, he doesn't answer, continues staring at the Doc. Is this all maybe just imagination? Is he dreaming? But how is it supposed to work without a brain? “What? You do not believe me? Well, maybe you believe them more.” Medic points to the dead team members who suddenly come to life. “April fool!” Scouts throat escapes a squeal. Medic can no longer hold back and laughs at the top of his voice. With horror, Jeremy watches as Demoman and Pyro pull off their masks, Engineer and Soldier emerge from behind a small canvas that hid their abdomen, painted like the wall of the infirmary. Spy and Heavy had also stood behind the same screen. Their supposed bodies were just headless puppets falling lifeless as the two emerge from behind the canvas. And of course Sniper comes to life too. He frees himself from the wrong organs, but he cannot free himself from the rope. “Can somebody help me? I cannot feel my legs anymore. I think the whole blood ran into my head.” Very slowly Scout turns his head back to Medic. He is already convulsed with laughter. “Um… Doc? Scout wets his pants.” Medic stops. And indeed. Jeremy is very wet between his legs. Just like his face, when the tears run down his cheeks. “„……….ahahahahahahahaha!!!” Medic cannot hold himself anymore and rolls on the floor laughing. Jeremy can finally free himself from his rigidity and flees without a word from the infirmary. Except for Medic, the entire team seems to be plagued by remorse. “I think we gone too far…” “Did you see the boy? I've never seen Scout cry. I feel really bad.” “What is wrong with you? He needed this lesson.” Medic straightens up and wipes the tears from his eyes. “Besides, it was just a joke.” “A pretty tough joke…” “You knew what you were getting into.” The team members looks at each other. “Yes, of course. But we didn't think he would react that way.” “What did you actually injected him?” “A remedy for his paralysis.” “He was really paralyzed?!” “Of course. What do you think why he did not move?” “We thought because he was terrified.” “The brain looked really real. How did you do that, Doc?” “What do you mean? The brain IS real.” The others look startled. “What did you think? By the way, the organs were real too.” Sniper makes a disgusted face and wipes the blood off his clothes. But he just distributes it only more. “Where did you…?” “From a baboon. I do not just use the heart.” “That means the blood is no fake blood?” “Of course not.” “…………” “Oh please. Do not be pathetic.” “I'm better going now. Have still a lot to do.” “Me too.” Everybody leaves (slightly disturbed) the infirmary. Medic stays alone. Sighing, he sits down at his desk. Archimedes sits on the table in front of him. “They are so fussy, right? That was just a joke. Well, at least I can now be sure that Scout will no longer plays stupid pranks on me.” “Coo~” “What? You would like to nest in a skull? I gave you an idea, huh?” “Coo~” “Na ja, let's see what can be done.” Medic strokes Archimedes little head.

One year later:

It's late evening when Medic leaves his infirmary and makes his way to the kitchen. He had not eaten all day yet. He had not thought until his stomach began to growl so loud that it reminded him that he must eat as well. Apart from this, that would have disturbed only the work. A small soup should be enough. The base seems like abandoned. The others must already be in bed. When Medic enters the kitchen, a bowl of semolina pudding stands on the dining table. Next to it a note. “Hmm?” Doctor has not eaten all day. Heavy made semolina pudding for doctor. Please eat up. “Heavy…” He sighs. Actually, Medic doesn't like sweet meals, but today he will make an exception. First, he doesn't have to cook anything himself, and second, Heavy has taken the trouble to cook him something. It's really nice that he had thought about him. He will return the favor. A spoon is already ready. It stucks in the semolina pudding. So Medic sits down, pulls out the spoon and – Splat! Just now on the table, now in the face. The bowl flew from the table in the moment as soon as he had moved the spoon. It slips off his face and falls to the floor with a clank. The semolina pudding, however, remains stick. Medic was frozen in his motion, trying to explain what had happened. Does the bowl have a life of its own? Is it damned? Is Merasmus behind it? Hardly likely…

“April fool!” Scout jumps out of his hiding, laughing at Medic's misery. And that's not all. The rest of the team is suddenly in the kitchen, laughing at him. Everyone, in their own way. Spy on the quiet, Soldier and Demo loud. Engineer and Heavy smile almost apologetically. And Pyro comes close to him and takes a closer look at Medic's semolina pudding face. “Although I had hoped that you would finally learn your lesson, I should have seen it coming…” “Aww! C’mon, Doc!” Heavy hands Medic a cloth. “I am sorry, doctor.” “Yes… I know, Heavy.” Hadn't the note been from Heavy, Medic might have become suspicious. Scout has learned. Unfortunately not what he should actually. He wiped the semolina pudding from his face with the cloth. Then he notices the spring on the spot where the bowl had stood. It must have been so taut that it's triggered when you move the spoon. Not that bad. “Okay, you got me and laughed at your doctor, who cares about you every day! Now you can go to sleep.” Medic wants to get up, but his team stops him. “Wait, wait, wait! Doc, I have something to tell you!” Medic is surprised at Scout's words and remains seated, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, I am curious about that.” “It’s about… last year. You really scared me to death and in the first few days I was pretty disturbed, y'know?” “…………” “He cried a lot.” “That's a lie! Shut up, cyclops!” Scout sits down on the opposite side of the table. He looks as carefree and cheeky as ever. And Medic is happy about it. Because for him that was really just a joke back then. But maybe it was really a bit too much. The boy is quite sensitive, even if Scout doesn't admit that. “Well, I was very depressed, but the old guys spoke to me a lot. And uh... Well, I finally realized that you are not responsible for your madness.” “………wat?” “Yeah! You are crazy, loopy, just insane!” “…………” “That's why I forgive you.” “…aha. Nice that you have realized that. And I thought, I must also justify myself for saying that I hate you all.” “Of course we know that you don’t hate us.” “And now for sure” Soldier says. Demo gives him a bump in the side. “I really hoped you would know that. I am neither a traitor nor a mindless killer who kills anyone who get smart with him. You are my only family. I... love you... if you want that way.” “Aww! We love you too, Doc.” “Huddah!” Suddenly, Pyro hugs Medic and the rest of the team imitate him. Except for Scout. “Sorry, I don't like group cuddling. That's too gay for me. Anyway... what I really wanted to say is that I will never play a trick on you again.” “Ach was? So my little prank did not failed to have the desired effect?” “No no no! I took it like a man.” “Yes, with pissed pants.” “Go and hug a kangaroo, Blinky Bill! Where was I? Oh yes. I'm not going to play any pranks on you anymore because I've finally realized that you're just humorless old bags. It's a waste of effort to play my premium pranks on you. You don't appreciate them anyway. Either you yell at me, spank me, or the dark side of your soul comes out. No. I have much better things to do.” “I always thought that's exactly what you always loved so much about it?” “Pfft! Naw! I was just bored. At least that was my last joke and so I say goodbye.” Scout bows conspicuously and leaves the kitchen whistling. “…you taught him the meaning of fear properly, Doc.” “Seems to be. But as the saying goes - The leopard cannot change his spots. Let us just wait for the next April Fools' Day. Then we will see how seriously he took his own words.” The team members looks at each other and breaks out into laughter. “Scout, the paragon? Not in a thousand years!” “Children love to play pranks and the elders to put them over their knees.” “Maybe we should now and then have fun with Scout. He has been begging for years.” “Agreed. Everyone comes up with something and next year we'll play a trick on Scout. Again. But this time something what doesn't make him cry. We all want to have our fun. Isn't it, Docteur?” “I do not know what you mean. I had my fun.”

After leaving the kitchen, Scout took a stand in the corridor to overhear the team. He was just curious about their reaction. After what he said in there, he was sure they would talk about it. And they did. What they said made his heart leap. They really wanted to play a trick on him! They did that out of pity, but Jeremy don't care about the reason. Maybe the old bags are not that boring. He laughs softly. “Yes! Yes!!” Energized, Scout sneaks into his room to go to sleep. But he knows he will not sleep. Not with this thrill of anticipation in his stomach. Nevertheless, he closes his eyes after checking that the apple is in its place on the nightstand.

#tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2medic

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geek-gem · 7 years

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Infinite And Lord Dominator

This is something just I’ve been wanting to make ever since I made the post, “Infinite’s An Asshole”. Including waited a bit for my mom’s sister to not be by even said to her I was chilling when I was first about to go, looked at the Sonic Heroes cover a bit, wiped it as good as I feel it needs to be, went number 1 in the bathroom, and went to see my cousin’s T’s girlfriends mom is here changing her daughter’s well baby daughter. So it wasn’t a Desinty shirt some American Vapor thing. The logo sorry yet sorry about that.

So Lord Dominator from the show Wander Over Yonder. A show I really like and ever since her appearance and as she went on in the 2nd season. Some things were revealed and she’s kind of become a popular icon on the internet or well mainly for cartoons. I’m just saying ever since that fucking song aired and was on YouTube shit okay not insane.

Also I felt it would be appropriate to put lord in the title. Yet despite that…..my whole mindset of Infinite from Sonic Forces being a major asshole and douchebag. It seems very out of character yet we hardly know much of him mostly from his appearance in the E3 trailer, his own trailer, and his theme song which amazing and tells a story within it possibly talking about what happened to him. Kind of meaningful and makes the song a lot more beautiful.

So just like the, “Infinite’s An Asshole” one honestly these are all taking place within the same thing. The characters will make 4th wall mentions because they don’t give a shit if they are fictional. Including this will be…quite harsh. Along with…..a bit of my own thoughts. Seriously I’m as sad as everyone else who misses Wander Over Yonder and it being cancelled very early at only two seasons which sucks said it in my head stop.

But at times just…I forgot I think we passed the day when the final episode aired on tv. Which sucks as theirs no more Wander Over Yonder reruns on tv.

So please beware. Because I’ve been thinking I feel I don’t wanna hold back but I’m kind of scared of what I’m gonna put for this gas or some shit meh.

Infinite: So your the one and only Lord Dominator. I’ve heard a lot about you. Kind of interesting to meet you now. I’m surprised you’ve still made an impact on some stuff.

Lord Dominator: Pfft yeah I did. I’ve heard and seen of you too *puts her left hand on her hip and points with her right finger* your mister edgy with his all so edgy song HA!

*Infinite then remembers the Stupid Infinite Head Canon post that he hates the word edgy*

Lord Dominator: EDGY EDGELORD EDGY EDGELORD EDGY EDGELORD EDGY EDGELORD EDGY EDGELORD! *she flayed around her arms and laughing just to piss him off*

Infinite: How does it feel to be cancelled and left for dead whore.

Lord Dominator:…..exuse me *she looked furious as her face was filled with rage and was gonna attack with a right lava arm, and left ice arm*

*Then two huge cubes enclosed on both her arms basically stop but keep her arms motionless*

Lord Dominator: What!

*She struggles and grunts as Infinite is ready to speak again*

Infinite: Again how does it feel to be cancelled and left for dead whore.

*Dominator was enraged hearing mainly that final word he said of what word he decided to describe her*

Infinite: Here’s the thing. What I find funny about her of how your the worst. How and your stupid song makes you seem like the worse being ever to exist. For what now…never to be seen again. Including never to be heard from again.

Lord Dominator: Umm *She decided to listen a bit more this time*

Infinite: What I mean is how your existence means nothing now. Including how fucking stupid you seem to be. Such as wanting to kill everything just for fun, and just learn everyone’s weakness, and use them against them destroy them even more. The fun part I’m a bit bothered by. Including how fucking pathetic you are when theirs other God’s out there more terrible beings showcasing to be more worse then you. Along with how your a absolute fucking child, you get beaten, and act like a fucking fool.

*Dominator’s face actually went to become less filled with rage, with a bit more confusing with sadness slowly rising*

Infinite: Or what about the fuck your possibly all alone, no friends, I’m surprised you spoilers let a fucking hippie of a space alien and a actual fucking dumbass of a villain beat you but that’s not the thing. Also you denied the hippies welcome of being a friend. The fact you became weak and decided to turn your back on anyone. I wonder now and I find it funny. We’re your parents not nice to you. Did some people pick on you.

Lord Dominator: Stop.

Infinite: Oh no what about the fact compared to me a God who can simply kill you right now yet I rather destroy your fucking spirit. Because your weak, helpless, and you act all high and mighty. Where the fuck did you have your beginning. With my song which is so much better then your own terrible song. Have you been through I felt. Seriously have to Lord Dominator ever felt pain, and see the world as it really is a fucking lie. A world where heroes think they are right but are terrible people who will never save you. Who inspire hope but what I got from it their is no such thing as hope. It’s all a lie all a fucking lie. Which now leaves to my mindset that everyone you and anyone good or evil no matter who or what they are must die.

Lord Dominator: Stop please!

Infinite: My face, my scars are proof I’ve seen some shit I’ve been through shit. Your just a fucking child you actually says this business is fun. I’m the God damn fucking devil compared to you, the world, the universe, every dimension doesn’t deserve a chance. Because I never got that chance. This mask here is the true face of evil compared to you. Including the other real deal you will never come back!

Lord Dominator: STOP PLEASE!

Infinite: Your show was cancelled and it doesn’t matter how much SaveWoy their is, at this point it might never come back. They cancelled you because you were a fucking failure. Your song is fucking horrible, you never made it beyond season 2, it doesn’t matter how much your loved, you might as well be fucking forgotten. I at times may enjoy being the devil but you never gonna go anywhere in life again because they denied your chance, Disney didn’t give you a chance, your fucking gone and that’s final. Unlike you I’ve seen shit and I will even this day show who’s better your whore!

*As Infinite stops talking, Lord Dominator just looks to the ground. Then slowly begins to cry as you hear the sounds of her beginning to sob. Then both cubes disappear as she manages to keep her arms to the ground first so she doesn’t fall on her face. Including as she’s trying to not let her face be shown to Infinite to show even more embarrassment of herself. As she slowly sobs and tries to not be loud*

Infinite: Much better.

On a funny note all the characters from the, “Infinite’s An Asshole” post simply have their mouths jaw dropped.

To be perfectly honest I was hoping for something like the last post where Infinite insulted characters. Yet I didn’t think this through a bit. It mainly led to something very personal and just…down right harsh.

Oh head but… Jesus it now makes me want to see what Infinite is really like. While this is mainly a parody of how I see Infinite’s personality. Jesus I mean…I’m scared to tag Wander Over Yonder related stuff…

Along with my cousin T came in here hugged me, and washed my hands and got back to the part where I mentioned the ice arm…..

Jesus I thought in my head I feel like I don’t want Infinite to be this harsh almost left hard. From what I know the game is it E10 already just I know it’s not gonna be like this and we don’t know much of Infinite’s personality. Yet Jesus just…I went dark for this one a bit more then the Cream one which was my last text post about Infinite.

What turned and thought Infinite being an asshole dancing and just being an asshole to everyone to…..God damn I thought of putting could put but no Eggman saying damn and I thought I was a terrible person or bad person shit.

Got tags down and…took out sonic forces infinite and put it back in…I almost left the word out but I put the WOY related tags they have Lord Dominator again….

Sorry just wow sorry mainly this is supposed to be a parody and I like the character of Lord Dominator despite some problems.

Forgot what else to say…for the last this and the last two Infinite related posts. Listened to Infinite’s theme the Natewantstobattle cover with Arin Hanson which is still amazing to just inspire me to make these…just stalling now

Edit so up out of chair almost put shit. Yeah that's silly I've been thinking even before I ever made these of mentioning or whatever mainly the Amy Rose one with Infinite that I feel it's best to read some other versions of how people wrote Infinite and listen to the Natewantstobattle cover of the theme which is amazing...but also read fan fiction stories damn audio thing now done I mean gone just how people already write Infinite. Said please don't suck in my head yet it might not random shit ticks.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic forces #sonic forces infinite #infinite #wander over yonder #lord dominator

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