#'The damage cell will quickly be healed by the other cells'

[gothamcityneedsme]

This game drives me so fucking INSANE. atom = adam ofc and just. Equating opening to the expanse to THAT choice.

[retconomics]

babygirl you are my EVERYTHINg..!!.,1!1!

[honeybuckin10]

Hospital Beds - a Hawks x fem!doctor!reader One Shot

Summary: Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks [wc: 4.6k].  

Warnings: mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of character death, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, fluff, comfort, potentially unpopular Hawks opinions. characters slightly aged up.

a/n: started writing thinking this was gonna be cute and flirty, ended up taking a kind of serious turn (still otherwise cute and flirty with happy-ish ending). might do a spicier part 2 at some point. as always, don’t be a ghost reader pls and ty <3

Hawks’ eyes were focused on the window, lost in thought. There was a crowd gathered outside Central Hospital. From the muffled voices through the glass, it didn’t sound like they were there for support. He felt the span of his back against the hospital bed, a sensation both foreign and grounding. The space where his wings once were stung slightly at the contact, despite the heavy nerve blockers he assumed were administered earlier.

“Back again so soon?”

You broke him from his trance as you shut the door behind you. Your eyes immediately scanned his monitors, a pleasant smile never leaving your face.

“At some point, we really do have to get your heart rate checked out.”

He didn’t actually have a high heart rate. But the machines he was hooked up to always went crazy whenever he got sight of you. He was too embarrassed to say anything, though he wondered if you noticed why his charts never reflected any underlying conditions when his vitals were checked by others.

“You’re not a very good patient, you know. Though now that you can’t talk, perhaps you’ll actually listen.”

He tried to respond, but quickly remembered he couldn’t open his jaw, not very much at least. No sound came out of the small gap between his lips.

You had treated Hawks on several occasions now, usually after incidents involving fire. Most were minor. He’d come in and joke that he’d done it on purpose to see you. You’d roll your eyes, every now and then you’d even dignify him with an actual response: ‘nice try’. But his injuries now were unlike anything you’d ever seen. You knew it was bad when he didn’t try flirting with you. Then again, it’s not like he could even if he wanted to.

Your tone was light and breezy, but the furrow in your brow betrayed your façade.

“I’m only joking, of course. But in all seriousness, your trachea was severely damaged from the smoke inhalation during the attack. Fortunately you narrowly avoided respiratory failure, but you won’t be able to use your voice for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, technology has advanced enough that you won’t have to carry around a notepad everywhere you go. We recommend using the voice app on your phone.”

You handed him his cell phone, when Hawks noticed a plastic bag of personal items behind you with unknown origins. You followed his eyes to see what was distracting him.

“Oh yes, a young man named Tokoyami brought you a change of clothes and some other things you may need while you were out. Said he was your mentee.” You paused, searching for some kind of reaction. You thought it might brighten his spirits. His eyes widened somewhat, but there was still no smile. “It’s clear you’ve had a big impact on him.”

Tokoyami. His mentee. A child. More memories of the battlefield came flooding back. Twice. Dabi. He knew you hoped that bringing up his pupil would put him at ease. But Hawks was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that he had put the student is such a dangerous situation.

“I also spoke with Dermatology. They informed me that sixteen percent of your body is covered with third degree burns, another twenty percent second degree, and twenty-two percent first degree. Given the severity and location of the burns, you’re also at risk of developing contractures that could compress your airways in the future so we’ll need to keep a close eye on that. Once your wraps come off, they’ve prescribed you a topical treatment that you’re to use three times a day until everything is healed. You’ll also be started on an oral antibiotic immediately, which you’re to take for three weeks.”

He attempted to use his new voice.

“What about wings?” You took a deep breath. Not good.

“I’m getting to that. I’m going to adjust your bed a little first. Are you able to lean forward?” He nodded as the bed rose up and the angle of his back moved more upright. He winced, unable to hide his discomfort but did as you instructed.

“I’m sorry, I know this is painful for you. I’m going as quickly as I can.” You talked through how you were examining his dressings, that his biggest risk at the moment was that the wounds would get infected, and that the dressings would need to be changed again before the end of the day.

“I think they will grow back. But it will be painful and it will be slow. You must be patient during this time and you’ll have to stay out of the field for a while. I’d recommend taking a well-deserved break until they’re fully healed.”

Bedrest sounded like Hawks’ personal hell. He only nodded his head. He didn’t have the energy to protest.

“You’ll also need to go through a psychiatric evaluation before rejoining field.”

Hawks let out a muffled groan. You let out an exasperated laugh.

“Really, you didn’t make a peep when I was examining your open wounds but you draw the line at psych eval?” You watched as he typed out his next thought.

“Waste of time.” Your eyes softened.

“First of all, this is standard procedure. Endeavor, Mirko, Eraserhead, all those UA students are going to have to get one too. Second, even if it wasn’t, what you – what you’ve all gone through would cause even the strongest soldier some kind of stress. We want to make sure that you’re all in the right headspace so that you’re the most prepared you can be going against whatever this enemy is. You have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of others.”

Hawks sat there a moment in silence, absorbing your words. Wondering whether you would be so sympathetic and kind if you knew the truth. He began typing.

“I killed someone,” the unnatural voice said. It came from him, but it didn’t feel like him. It echoed against the walls of the sterile room, void of emotion.

You pulled a chair next to his bed so that you were slightly below his eye level.

“I heard. That must be a lot to carry.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not.” You paused, choosing your next words carefully for the fragile hero. “I don’t know what your world is like. I wasn’t there so I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know that we are both in the business of saving lives, albeit in different ways. My guess is you made a split second decision on what was in the mission’s best interest to save the lives of your colleagues and ultimately the lives of civilians. Nobody has a crystal ball to know whether that was the best or right choice. But it was a life or death situation, and you did the best you could in the moment. It’s natural to feel remorse and guilt, but you can’t let it debilitate you for the rest of your life either.”

What right did you have to comment on such things?

“You’ve never killed someone,” he countered.

“I have. In my OR. There are some people that can’t be saved, no matter how hard you try.”

“I think he was a good person,” he typed, wondering if that negated everything you just said.

“Good people do bad things all the time. It doesn’t make them bad people.” He sighed, swallowing the searing pain as harsh air passed through his lungs. You watched closely as the hero studied his bandaged hands, refusing to make eye contact. “For now, the best thing you can do for yourself and Japan is rest. We need you.”

He sat with your words. It didn’t dawn on him until long after you left the room that you weren’t just talking about Twice.

-

As you warned, the days passed at a glacial pace. He didn’t enjoy how quickly he acclimated to talking through his phone. He had growing pains from the nubs of his wings that began to poke through his skin. Each day brought a revolving door of doctors and healers and other specialists, by whom he was constantly poked and prodded and observed. Hawks hated every minute of it. Almost every minute.

You came in daily to monitor the progress of his wings. It was the most painful part of his recovery. But you entered his room with a smile and sunny disposition, like you weren’t about to inflict torture on him for thirty minutes. The air hurt his exposed back when you removed the old bandages. It stung when you applied antiseptic to cleanse the area. It felt like he was going to pass out when you ran your gloved fingers along the growth that was coming in. He felt all the more pathetic laying on his stomach as you did your work.

But you did your best to distract him with bad jokes and hospital gossip. Not that you had to put in that much effort. Your presence was distracting enough.

On the fourth day after the battle, you finally got a chuckle out him. What’s black and white and black and white and black and white? He shrugged as you applied ointment. A penguin falling down the stairs. You quickly realized that your methods may have been faulty as his laugh devolved into a coughing fit, his lungs still weak.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Try to remember your box breathing.”

He held his breath at the top of his inhale. Four, three, two, one. Exhale. Four, three, two, one. He repeated this for a minute before his breath finally returned to normal. He gave a thumbs up. I’m ok.

Relief washed over your face. “I’m sorry I made you choke on air. But glad to see you in better spirits today.” He began typing.

“I’m always in good spirits when you’re around.” You bit back a smile no one could see as you started redressing the incoming wings.

“Ah, there he is. Yeah, you’re definitely starting to feel better.”

“Can’t you tell? I’m the pinnacle of health.” The gallows humor was hard to miss despite the monotone robotic voice, the statement in stark contrast to his fully bandaged and hospitalized body.

“You will be, soon enough.” You finished applying new bandages. “That’s it for me today, unless there’s anything else you want to share.”

“Capricorn. 27. Single –“

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” You pulled off your disposable gloves, turning to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “I already knew that from your chart. Nice try,” you teased.

“Didn’t know you were stalking me.”

“Goodbye Hawks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew your faux sternness was hardly believable, as you caught him wink before you closed the door.

-

Two days later you bumped into Hawks and Best Jeanist in the hallway. You broke into a wide grin when you noticed the two heroes, pleasantly surprised to see just how much progress your patient had made in such a short time.  

“Good morning gentlemen.”

“Good morning Dr. y/l/n,” Best Jeanist said with a small bow. Hawks was visibly confused about his formality.

“Please, there’s no need for that. It’s just good to see you back in the land of the living.” Best Jeanist helped fill in the gaps for his perplexed cohort.

“Hawks, Dr. y/l/n was part of the team who developed the drugs to put me in a temporary death-like state to convince Dabi that you’d killed me. We can thank her for setting us up for success to get you undercover.” Hawks knew he missed out on a lot during his covert mission, but had no idea how many parties were involved outside the ordinary network of hero agencies and the Commission. You blushed at the praise.

“It was nothing, really. You guys are the ones doing all the hard work.”

“Truly, we are in your debt,” Best Jeanist piled on. You weren’t used to so much flattery and you had a job to do so you tried to end the conversation.

“Anyways, I have to get to my next patient. Jeanist, keep an eye on your partner. It’s good for him to walk around a little bit but make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” He gave another bow.

“I’m right here,” Hawks typed, unamused by the turn of the exchange.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Hawks,” you yelled over your shoulder before disappearing down the next corridor.

The session later that day was nothing out of the ordinary. The nubs sprouting from his back had formed into tiny but well-defined wings and he was able to sit up during exams as opposed to lying face down on the hospital bed. All signs of positive progress.

He watched wistfully as you documented your observations, swaying his legs off the side of the bed like a child.

“They’re coming in quite nicely, I’m really happy with where you’re at.”

“Great what do I need to sign to get out of here?”

“Ahhh not so fast. You have to stay at least another two days and even once you’re discharged, you most certainly are not ready to return to active duty.” He pouted underneath his respirator mask.

“You’re no fun.”

“Sorry, just doing my job.” You proceeded to check his other vitals before heading out. First you took off his mask to check his lymph nodes, pressing your fingers firmly against the outer side of his jaw, moving down his neck. He was acutely aware of the lone thin layer of latex that separated you. He couldn’t stop the warmth that crept up his face, thankful that most of it was still covered. His flushed cheeks may have been under wraps, but he couldn’t hide his quickened pulse from you. You put on your stethoscope and instructed him to breathe deeply a few times, the cold metal circle moving from his upper back, to lower back, to his chest.  

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Your lungs are sounding better but your heart’s beating like crazy.”

He feigned surprise, which was much easier when he didn’t have to control his own voice. “Really? That’s odd, no one else’s said anything.”

You pulled up his chart again to check the inputs of all the other practitioners who’ve treated the hero since his arrival at Central Hospital. All values normal.

“On a scale from one to ten, how much pain are you in at this point?”

“Two or three.”

“Are you feeling nervous about anything?” He chewed his lower lip trying to think of a way to get out of this, knowing that if he said no you would run more tests which would be unnecessary and prolong his stay.

“Yes,” he lied. Kind of. He actually was a little nervous, though definitely not for the reason you likely thought. You brought your chair next to his bed again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” A loaded question.

“No.” The good thing about talking through his phone and the mask was that he could get away with saying less. Sympathetic people tended to not ask follow up questions.

“Okay. Well, you know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.” You spoke slowly, your reassuring voice laced with uncertainty. It was difficult to get a read on him when you couldn’t hear the tone of his voice or see his face. “Do you have any questions?” He nodded.

“Will you go on a date with me?” You almost choked on your own saliva. You blushed, but forced yourself to remain stoic.

“I’m very flattered, but there are strict protocols against physician-patient relationships.” Your stern message was undercut by your stammering, high pitched squeak.

“What if I promise to never get hurt again?” You tried not to smile, knowing it would only egg him on. You were failing.

“You shouldn’t be making promises you can’t keep.”

“What if I find a different doc?”

“You’ve gotten awfully good at talking through your phone,” you muttered under your breath.

“Can’t hear you.” Despite his mostly covered face, you could tell from the crinkle around his eyes that he was enjoying every moment of this interrogation.

“I-I’d have to take it up with the Board of Ethics.”

“That’s not a no.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Can I say one more thing?” You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he was about to spew.

“I’d rather you didn’t but legally I think I have to say yes.” You watched as his thumbs frantically moved over the keyboard.

“Thank you for taking care of Best Jeanist. This operation wouldn’t’ve gotten so far without him or you.”

“Oh.” Your felt your heartbeat in your throat. “Again, just doing my job. Glad I could help.” You fiddled with some papers. “Let’s try this one more time. Do you have any other questions… about your health.”

Hawks shook his head, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Despite the fact that you wanted to scold him for the bizarre interaction, you were reassured by his pleasant disposition, one you hadn’t seen since he arrived.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-

Tomorrow rolled around but you entered an empty sterile room, bed ready for a new patient. After a few seconds your confusion passed and you saw red.

You stormed down the hall in search for any hospital staff, until a poor resident had the unfortunate luck of being in your path.

“Where the hell is my patient?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Room 3409. Yesterday my patient was there and today the room is empty. He wasn’t ready to be discharged so where is he?”

“I-I-I don’t know ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. y/l/n, this is a hospital, not wrestlemania if you could keep it down please. And stop traumatizing the junior residents.” Hawks’ pulmonologist emerged from his office and tried to placate you. You glowered at the first young doctor as he silently excused himself from the conversation that was definitely beyond his paygrade.  

“Please tell me he got moved to a different wing.”

“I’m afraid not.” He spoke again before you could let out another outburst. “I warned him of the risks of a premature discharge, to which he insisted he was feeling fine and that those were risks he was willing to take. I had him fill out some paper work and a consent form and he left this morning.” Your nostrils flared as you silently seethed.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to report you. Oh, and one more thing…” The doctor took a deep breath before proceeding, worried he may end up the subject of your wrath. “This is probably terrible timing, but – he requested to take you off his care team,” your eyes widened “…and should he be re-hospitalized that you not be involved.”

“WHAT?” You continued mumbling a string of profanities under your breath. The doctor continued slowly and calmly.

“He made it very clear it had nothing to do with the quality of care he received from you. But he uh, mentioned something about a potential conflict of interest.” He took a step back as you burned an imaginary hole through his head with your retinas. “I cannot emphasize enough how much I do not want to know any more information about this.”

“There is no more information about it because it doesn’t exist!” You wanted to scream. “Fuck him. Fuck you. Fuck this hospital. I’msosorryItakethoselasttwoback.” You stomped your foot down like a petulant child before storming off. “FUCK!”

-

By the next day you had cooled off, that is, until you saw Hawks loitering outside Endeavor’s room as you were making your rounds.

“YOU!” you boomed. Hawks’ excitement to see you was quickly replaced with fear as you approached and you were close enough that he could see the rage steaming off you.

“Hey doc,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t you ‘hey doc’ me.” You were very close to his face. He was sure he would’ve felt your breath if he didn’t have the stupid respirator mask on. For a split second he thought about taking it off but realized that would only further enrage you. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He began typing but you swatted his hand before he could answer. “Ow.”

“And you –“ Best Jeanist would be the next recipient of your verbal lashings. “You said you would keep an eye on him. Liar.”

Hawks had never seen his colleague scared before, but there was a first for everything.

“He just wanted to come for a ride-along, I promise he stayed in the car the whole time!”

“I have never been more disappointed,” you said in a low voice. Best Jeanists bowed.

“I am very ashamed and deeply regret my actions. I am sorry.” That seemed to pacify you momentarily. You returned your wrath to Hawks.

“I told you you’re not ready to return to the field. And now I hear you’re refusing to receive treatment from me? I cannot explain to you how embarrassed and insulted I am.” You allowed him time to type this time as Best Jeanist stood there as witness, desperately wishing for the floor to open below and swallow him whole.

“You’re right. I’m not ready. But this enemy is moving too quickly, time is of the essence. I’m in good enough shape that I can help off the field. I’m sorry I went against your professional judgement.” You continued to glare at him with pursed lips.

“And?”

“And I was being proactive. I’m taking you on that date.” Your face flushed immediately while the avian hero somehow remained shameless. You did your best to maintain your composure.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” You crossed your arms defensively.

“After a stunt like this, I wouldn’t be so sure. Plus, since you’ve already taken it upon yourself to be discharged I’m not sure why you’re even here.”

“Now that we know about the Todoroki family connection to Dabi, we need to gather intel. Also need to consolidate info from those at the Jaku Hospital attack. Off-field work, if you will.” Your eyes narrowed, only to be met with undeterred playful golden irises.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But I feel the need to make it known that I’m not happy about it.” The injured hero smiled again.

“Thanks, doc.”

“Again, our sincerest apologies for the mishap.” Best Jeanist did his best to make up for his companion’s clear lack of repentance.

You only gave the heroes a parting glare as you walked away.  

The rest of the day passed, otherwise uneventful but long and exhausting. You kept a professional and pleasant face for the benefit of your patients, but it was getting hard to maintain after all you’d seen in the last seven days since the attacks. Yes, there were cases of miraculous recoveries in the face of overwhelming trauma. But far more frequent were lives that were forever altered by all that had transpired, not just for patients themselves but all the other souls connected to those individuals. The hospital was at capacity, and each bed represented not just one person but a web of lives that now had to face a new crippling reality. If you thought about it too much you could cry – which you did, in the nearest break room or supply closet if had even just two minutes between appointments. Thus, your favorite part of the day became doing paperwork in your office at the end of your shift. It was methodical and soothing, and allowed you to disassociate.

It was at that moment when you were enjoying your oasis that an intern rushed into your office, disturbing your peace.

“There’s an emergency on the top floor, you need to come quick.” You immediately got up and followed her down the hall and up the elevator, asking clarifying questions about the situation.

But when you entered the room in question, all you saw was a picnic blanket on the hospital bed, two champagne flutes, a bottle, and the number two hero. The intern shrank in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, he said he would send me a bunch of merch if I could get you here.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” You rubbed your temples, hoping it would transport you to another dimension where you never went to medical school and thus would not be here. “You are not to accept a single thing from him, do you understand?” The intern nodded aggressively. “Now go, I’m sure you have better places to be, ideally with a patient who actually needs help.” The intern scurried away without another word.

“And you,” now turning to Hawks. “Bribing medical professionals? Super illegal.”

“Sorry.” His mischievous eyes said otherwise, clearly undeterred by your scolding. You scoffed.

“No you’re not.” He shrugged. You took a closer look at the set up. “Seems kinda wasteful, doesn’t it? You can’t even drink.”

He turned the bottle to show the label. Sparkling nonalcoholic cider. The corners of your lips tugged upwards, threatening to betray your steely exterior.

 Any semblance of a smile quickly vanished, however, when he removed his respirator mask.

“What are you –“ He spoke before you could protest or before he lost his nerves.

“I’m going to be gone for a really long time after today. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if I’ll be back.” He cautiously grabbed your hands. “Regardless of which it is, I really want to make sure I don’t break any promises.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when he paused. You suddenly found it hard to keep eye contact.

“This is a hospital, not the Make A Wish Foundation.” Despite your icy response, you made no effort to pull your hands away from him. He gently rolled his thumb over your knuckles, trying to memorize every ridge and crease.

Most of his face was still covered in bandages, but you liked that you could now see how his lips curved into a lopsided smirk, punctuated by laugh lines that formed around the corners of his mouth. You liked knowing that you were responsible for it. Your mind concocted imaginary circumstances of other things you could do to get him to make the same perfect expression.  Your eyes lifted to meet his when you were done daydreaming.

“I thought they were one in the same.” He was insufferable. His arms fell to his sides when you separated yourself from him. For a moment he almost looked like the defeated shell of himself that was in your care a week ago. But it was quickly washed with relief when he saw you grab the bottle.

“You are the worst patient I’ve ever had.” A satisfying *pop* echoed in the room. He knew your words were hallow, as your acquiescence was rewarded with the hero’s bright eyes and heartfelt smile that made your heart beat in time with the little bubbles that evaporated around you. You handed him a glass of cider, his fingers ghosting over yours as he took the flute from you that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient anymore.”

[icarusredwings]

This has been on my mind for NO Fucking reason so to make it shut up, lets talk about it.

"Why doesn't Wade just do chemotherapy?"

In this essay, I will explain the answer to that question, looking at Germ cancer cells and testicular cancer rates to decide-

Can Wade have biological kids?

Let's start with the basic facts.

What a germ cell tumor?

A germ cell tumor is a mass made of reproductive cells, also called germ cells. “Germ” is short for “germinate,” which means to mature. For men and people assigned male at birth (AMAB), germ cells mature into sperm. Related, germ cell tumors most often form where eggs get made (ovaries) and where sperm gets made (testicles).

[ https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/23505-germ-cell-tumor]

Testicular cancer.

Most testicular cancers start in cells known as germ cells and are called germ cell tumours. Germ cells in men produce sperm. Testicular germ cell tumours can develop from germ cell neoplasia in situ (GCNIS). GCNIS means that there are abnormal cells in the testicle.

[https://www.cancerresearchuk.org/about-cancer/testicular-cancer/types#:~:text=Most%20testicular%20cancers%20start%20in,abnormal%20cells%20in%20the%20testicle.]

More than 90% of testicular cancer start in the germ cells, which are cells in the testicles and develop into sperm. This type of cancer is known as testicular germ cell cancer. Testicular germ cell cancer can be classified as either seminomas or nonseminomas, which may be identified by microscopy.

[https://www.cancer.gov/ccg/research/genome-sequencing/tcga/studied-cancers/testicular-germ-cell-study ]

Treatments.

At the moment there is not a lot of options, the most common are:

Chemotherapy

Radiation

Surgery

Chemotherapy.

Chemotherapy works by stopping or slowing the growth of cancer cells, which grow and divide quickly. Because of his healing factor, this would probably not work and if anything cause Wade more illness seeing as Chemo causes

Fatigue

Hair loss

Easy bruising and bleeding

Infection

Anemia (low red blood cell counts)

Nausea and vomiting

Appetite changes

Constipation

Diarrhea

Mouth, tongue, and throat problems such as sores and pain with swallowing

Peripheral neuropathy or other nerve problems, such as numbness, tingling, and pain

Skin and nail changes such as dry skin and color change

Urine and bladder changes and kidney problems

Weight changes

Chemo brain, which can affect concentration and focus (serve mind fog)

Mood changes

Changes in libido and sexual function

And last but not least Fertility problems

[https://www.cancer.org/cancer/managing-cancer/treatment-types/chemotherapy/chemotherapy-side-effects.html ]

Radiation.

At high doses, radiation therapy kills cancer cells or slows their growth by damaging their DNA. Cancer cells whose DNA is damaged beyond repair stop dividing or die. When the damaged cells die, they are broken down and removed by the body. In theory this would work a little bit, for about 12 minutes and then he immediately would have all of those dead cells back because while the radiology killed one spot, cancer spreads. Quickly. With his healing factor its MUCH quicker too. All that pain for nothing.

Fatigue

Hair loss

Memory or concentration problems

Throat problems, such as trouble swallowing

Cough

Shortness of breath

Taste changes

Skin changes (such as burning and peeling)

Less active thyroid gland

Sexual problems

Fertility problems

Urinary and bladder problems

[https://www.cancer.gov/about-cancer/treatment/types/radiation-therapy]

Surgery.

I dont even need any sources for this. We saw what happened to his legs when ripped off. They just grew back. And if removing cancer cells makes newer cancer cells? That's useless.

Summary.

Wades entire body is cancerous. Yes. His ENTIRE body. Every arm, toe, and fingernail on this man is cancerous. His healing factor is literally just having rapid cancer growth (amongst other things)

Chemotherapy and radiation will not work on him. Chemotherapy works by killing cancerous cells in order to grow healtheir ones. Except Wade can only produce cancerous cells. Yes, while they are new and much more likely in the very early stages, it's still cancerous.

This being said, there is no cure or treatment for Wades Cancer (that we know of at this time) Its quite physically the only thing keeping him with super hero powers yet still remains even after his powers are taken.

Hate to say it.

I hate to say it but statistically removing older, more advanced cells to replace with newer, less progressive cells (aka removing or ripping off his limbs/ parts of his body so they can grow back as new and fresh) is probably the best 'treatment' Wade has right now. Radiology would work the same, right?

Yes, but A. Not as B. Too many side effects that he he'll have to deal with MORE making him even more crazy and sick. Why would he do that when he can just tease Logan into slicing a hurt leg off and go from there?

Will the treatment help him be fertile?

Realistically, without his powers, he probably would be dead in a week, perhaps less due to just HOW much cancer this man truly has.

Chemo would also make it worse. So much worse, in fact. Both pain wise and his chances at ever biologically having a child.

Result(s) Before the cancer was diagnosed, (66%) 79/120 couples who attempted to conceive succeeded within 1 year. After (Cancer) treatment, (43%) 38/88 couples conceived within 1 year.

[https://www.fertstert.org/article/S0015-0282(03)00335-2/fulltext]

Testical Germ Cell Tumors are associated with semen abnormalities before orchiectomy. This review shows an increase in abnormal semen parameters among men with TGCT even outside the treatment effects of orchiectomy, radiation, or chemotherapy.

[https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4270136/ ]

The way that TGCT affects the sperm is that it's very common for not only lower sperm count (obviously, it's hard to produce when you're fighting an entire body illness) but also changes the shape of the sperm which makes it very difficult to reach the egg. Sperm with crooked tails, double tails, double heads, or even broken sperm have a very hard time reaching the egg (think of it like natural selection) and die off before they get anywhere. If you already have low countage and most of them can't make it?

Well that's much lower chances of fertility.

In the comics.

In the comics, Wade has a daughter named Eleanor Camacho in which he was unaware of because her mother saw his face and ran away in terror. The entire thing is that her mother thought she was going to die and decided fuck it, if im gonna die Im gonna die happy so decided to spend these last moments with wade (who she literally just met- if that aint weird in itself idk what is).

She only ever found him to demand child support, and he refused to believe such a beautiful child could he his given his stance of insecurity and well- Just utter shock anyway, I think. He is right. Eleanor is gorgeous as a baby and as an adult.

(There's actually a whole comic where he's trying to fight death so his daughter doesn't die before him because he "couldn't bear the thought of living without her" so they activate a bomb "with the power of a black hole" and comit death together. It's very sweet)

TLDR

In conclusion.

Yes, Wade can have children, but he has a better chance at being successful if he removes his lower half and regrows it so that its *less* cancerous than before cells, therefore hes more likely to have normal shaped sperm and probably more of it during the process.

No, chemotherapy, radiation, and surgery would not be effective. Unfortunately, the most effective thing for him is ripping his limbs off sometimes.

"Forest- why the fuck did you write this?"

You know... I really don't know. I wanted to become a bio geneticist, and here I am. Writing about some bald guys' balls on the Internet. Siiigghh... anyway. Use this. however you want, I don't even care at this point.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

fun things to inflict on a pilot who bases his value on how useful he is to others:

temporary blindness >:3c

141 accidentally pierce an old mustard gas canister during an operation. Nik takes the brunt.

cw: injury, temporary blindness, distressed character.

Price paced up and down the base hospital ward wringing his hands as he waited for news, his heart in his throat. The mission had gone south so bloody quickly, and no matter how many times he retraced their steps, Price couldn't pinpoint the exact action that had caused such a monumental fuck up.

Old world war one bunker. Old old. The perfect place for a terrorist cell to store chemical weapons, or at least a lead to them. They had jumped early that morning with Nik because it was in east Germany and he had the knowledge they needed to break through the security systems. The USSR had used it as a base of operations during the Cold War, so without Nik, getting in would have been like chipping away at granite with a toothpick.

They got in. They secured the intelligence - no bloody weapons though - and were on their way out. A small detachment of enemy combatants had infiltrated through a different entrance that hadn't been recorded on the schematics they were working from. There had been an exchange of fire. A stray bullet caught a canister and...

Nik ignored the most fundamental rule of chemical warfare. You sort your own fucking mask first. But no, the stupid wanker grabbed for Gaz's first, because he was closest to the explosion and had only a split second to react.

Nik had been too slow with his own as a result.

Holding Nik in the casevac had been one of the most difficult experiences of Price's life. The skin lesions across his face had been like second degree burns, his eyes swollen shut, streaming. Anywhere there was moisture, the old gas had attacked. Despite the wounds, Price had seen the terror on his face as he tried to wrench the damp gauze off. He couldn't see.

"John, ya nye mogu videt! John... gdye ty? Gdye ty!" His usually calm, sombre voice, with its laid back drawl, broken and cracked in desperation.

In the end, Price had taken the decision to sedate him in the heli, one of those big hands clenched in his to keep him anchored as the drugs brought his heart rate under control and soothed his panic. He had lashed out at Gaz blindly - "otyebis ot menya!" - but between them they had managed to get the sedative into his thigh.

There were other wounds; bumps, scrapes, but none as serious.

"Sir, I'm sorry," Gaz had rasped, chucking the needle back into the bag. "This is my fault."

"No," Price had shaken his head. "Not your burden to carry. G'won, go eat somethin'."

The door at the end of the hall opened and the doctor summoned him with a flick of the head. "Well?" Price demanded, ignoring the pursed lipped irritation he got in return.

"It's temporary," the doctor said, his arms folding. "The gas was old, degraded. Still potent enough to cause damage, but with the right treatment, he'll get his eyesight back."

"How long?"

"Difficult to say. Four to six weeks for the skin lesions to heal. His body will decide on the rest... uh, captain," the doctor reached out a hand as Price tried to walk past, "there is a risk of long-term dyspnea, respiratory problems, awful stuff mustard gas, it attacks the central nervous system too, it can cause changes in mentation, and I understand from his file that he has a medical history of--"

"--I know what's in the file."

"We may be looking at more damage here than just his eyes. But only time will tell."

When Price stepped through the door, Nik startled, looking in his direction even though the heavy bandages over his eyes prevented him from seeing. Price spoke softly as he closed the door at his back. "S'just me, Nik. Easy."

Price nodded tightly, walked by and shouldered his way into the next ward. He found Nik's room but hesitated outside. Nik was awake. He was trying to grope around the table in front of him, searching.

"Captain, it is... well, I would say good to see you but..." He gestured vaguely at his head, his wry smirk shaky, and then that hand returned to patting around the table.

"Did they explain everything? Did you..." ...understand. Fuck, Price didn't understand half of the medical jargon, so he wouldn't be surprised if Nik struggled in his fourth language to parse what they were saying. Fourth out of eight. Asking felt like an insult to Nik's intelligence. The doctor's comment about mentation lodged in Price's throat like a shard of glass.

"Da. It will heal but there may be some future complications, I..." Nik suddenly slammed his fist against the table, anger twisting his mouth into a snarl, "..blyat, where is my phone? I need.." Nik's voice cracked and his chin tilted down with the shame of it, trailing off into miserable silence.

Price reached for him and tried not to let the resulting flinch shred his heart. Once Nik realised it was Price's hands and not whatever phantom his mind has conjured, he relaxed. Price sat down on the edge of the bed. "You don't need t' do anythin' but heal. We've got yer covered."

The way Nik's jaw twitched, teeth clenching at the back, his shoulders rising a little towards his ears; Price could see the clawing discomfort without needing to see his expression.

"You're gonna have to trust us, Nik. I need yer to trust me."

"I do," Nik croaked. "It is... This is not your burden to carry."

"Even if you weren't who you are, you still got injured in one of my operations."

"I let you down. And now I am useless." Nik's other hand clenched into a fist at his side, making the finger monitor creak under the strain.

"Temporarily out of commission. Not useless."

Nik turned his head away, refusing to hear it. They sat in silence, Price's thumb stroking back and forth over Nik's knuckles, giving him a point to focus on that wasn't his burning skin or the darkness of his vision.

"Nik, short of turnin' me over to Al Qatala, you could never let me down," Price said, finally.

Now was the time. Now Nik needed to hear it more than ever.

"You... mean the world to me. I..." he rubbed at his face, tugging at his whiskers, "...I love you. And when I saw you go down, my heart stopped for a second. The world stopped. Believe it or not, I was glad you were screamin' bloody murder in that chopper, cause that meant you were still here."

Nik drew a stuttering breath, but he didn't say anything. The man who had a one-liner or a bit of sass for every occasion sat in mute silence. It made Price ache in a way he never had before.

"'M not gonna abandon you, Nik. Wouldn't have even if this had been permanent. An' I know you don't believe me. I know. But... 'm gonna show ya. And you can grumble and cuss at me 'til the cows come home."

Nik's head fell back against the pillow and he sniffed, scowling with a muttered curse.

"You olrigh'?" Price squeezed his hand.

"Da. I am crying like little girl and it is stinging my eyes."

Price chuckled, patting their joined hands against his own thigh. "Soppy git."

That had to be a good sign. Tear ducts were what the eyes used to heal and maintain themselves, right? And he could feel the tears. Positive. This was positive. Price lifted Nik's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, lingering there to feel the warmth of his skin.

Nik swallowed, his fingers tightening in Price's grip. "If I had known that losing my eyes would have earned me John Price, I would have cut them out years ago."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," Price said incredulously, always somewhat taken aback by the intensity with which Nik expressed himself when it was just them. He sighed. "Yer've had me all this time. I just... I'm just not as brave as you are."

Nik huffed. "Bravo Six is the bravest man I know."

"Only for some things. Not feelin' particularly brave right now, and you're the one in the gurney."

Nik tilted his head towards Price, so desperate to see his face. Price was glad he couldn't. His damn eyes were watering. "Then, I will be brave for you. This, I can do without my eyes."

Price smiled and made sure Nik could feel it against his palm, promising him silently in that moment that he wouldn't waste a single second more of their time together on this bloody earth. "Sounds like a plan."

[bones4thecats]

Hi can I get a seperate scenario request where Cooler, Cell, and Whis have to help Fem reader with their sprained ankle, because they fell down the stairwell on accident. And F! reader just kinda looking around not knowing if she'd just broken a bone or not. (Note: Based on irl experiences, I just had something like this the 2nd time 😭)

Hope you have a good night by the way 💜

When Their Fem/GN! S/O Sprains Ankle

Characters: Cooler, Cell, and Whis Requester: @silkyshulks A/N: Holy crap, you sprained your ankle twice? That must be tough. I swear that I stub my toe or hit my head everyday, pretty sure I'm one more table-to-forehead thump away from brain damage, lmao. Anyways, hope you get healed up from your sprain and enjoy this! By the way, the Reader has no gender mentions in this! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Spraining your ankle, maybe? ⚠️

Disclaimer: I have five requests left, let's hope I can get them done!

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Cooler ════════════════════════════════╝

🧊 You looked at Cooler and smiled. It wasn't a smile full of love, no this was one that you put up to make the other members of the Force feel freaked out

🧊 It was when you started going down the stars that you slipped and fell, causing you to hurt your ankle, but, as you were used to pain much worse than this, you looked around and up at Cooler, whom was panicking, wondering if you had broken anything

🧊 When he brought you to the ship's doctor, he was beyond angry that you had sprained the area between your foot and calf. He wasn't angry at you, he was angry at himself for allowing this to happen

🧊 The doctor handed you a medical note of everything you needed to do for the injury to heal; mainly just some rest, an ice-pack being placed on it from time-to-time, giving it a wrap of sorts to keep it from getting worse from moving, and getting it raised above your heart's level while resting

🧊 Cooler sighed as you shifted in your bed, not being used to having your ankle raised so highly. He grabbed a nearby ice-pack and placed it on your ankle, causing you to suck in a deep breath quickly before scoffing and looking away from your lover

"You don't have to be ashamed. Injuries happen to the best of us."

"Coming from the guy who didn't sprain their ankle in front of their lover and multiple members of the Frieza Force then having to keep it up despite having dealt with worse injuries than this."

"Are you done with your little tangent?"

🧊 He tries to stay around you as much as possible to make sure your injury would heal as quick and perfectly as possible. While he cannot always be there, due to some issues within the Force, he makes up for it all by sitting beside you with his head on your chest for you to slide your hands on while trying to cure your boredom

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Cell ═════════════════════════════════╝

🔬 This world that you both lived in was utter chaos. So getting injuries wasn't something to out of the ordinary for anyone, but for you? It was completely new

🔬 Cell always made sure that you stayed safe, keeping you from falling and injuring yourself multiple times. Hell, one time he was fighting someone and dashed to keep you safe from a boulder crushing you!

🔬 This time, he hadn't noticed you got injured because he wasn't there

🔬 Cell had gone out to deal with some humans and came back to find you wrapping your ankle and putting some ice on it, flinching and trying to keep yourself calm despite the obvious pain from the injury

🔬 You were shocked to see Cell kneel in front of you with a darkening expression, and you knew what he was going to ask you

"Who did this to you?"

"Nobody, Dear. I just fell down the stairs on accident and ended up spraining my ankle. It should be healed in about a week at most."

"Are you sure nobody harmed you?"

"Yes, Cell. I'm sure."

🔬 After that, he stayed by your side 24/7. You never suspected that the Bio-Android could be so clingy before this, but here you were, having him on his hands and knees for you

🔬 He always replaces your ice-pack, making sure there were always two. One being frozen while the other you could use so you didn't have to wait on some compression being added to your injury

🔬 Cell also may or may not have almost destroyed your stairs after the incident...

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Whis ═════════════════════════════════╝

😇 Whis values your health above all else. He knows that you're more susceptible to getting sick than him, so he always kept up-to-date with your symptoms, making sure you couldn't get to ill

😇 But this was an injury that he did not expect to happen

😇 Beerus and Whis had finally gotten to go to Earth after destroying a few planets about 7 galaxies away, and Whis was happy to get to finally see you again after nearly four weeks worth of destruction and traveling with Universe 7's God of Destruction

😇 He made his way to you door was confused why you didn't come right to the door when he gave the special knock you both made to let each other know it was you. So, after three tries, he opened the door was began looking around for you

"Y/N? Where are you?"

"I'm-uh, I'm over here, Whis."

"Oh my."

😇 You sat on the bottom stair of your home, your face had some light scuffing on it while your ankle's slight movements caused you to shiver and groan in pain under your breath

😇 Whis kneeled in front of you and laid his staff nearby your head, just within your grasp. He then picked up your leg lightly, draping the back of your knee over his thigh as he rolled up your pant leg to see your ankle

😇 He saw how your skin darkened at the marking around your ankle. It looked much like a bruise, but he had treated enough injuries dealt by Beerus and Goku to know that this was a sprain and not just a horribly-placed bruise

"Don't worry, love. I can get this fixed up in a mere second!"

😇 Motioning for his staff, you reached to your side and handed him it, to which he thanked you and laid your ankle back down on the ground, making sure your leg was laying straight and not bent from your knee

😇 He then allowed his staff to glow before he tapped it right above your injury, which caused it to slightly ache in pain before it went away. He had healed it in a mere couple seconds!

😇 Whis reached out for you, to which you grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled yourself back onto your feet. While your ankle did slightly pound from the pain, it wasn't as bad as before

"While it may look healed, you may want to put some ice on it and wrap it up if the pain gets worse, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks, Whis."

"No problem, after all, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let my S/O just writhe around in pain?"

[lookinghalfacorpse]

hello

In what way do you think Dream is disabled/affected post-prison and if he does, what do you think he does to hide it?

permission to yap granted

this is what i do in most of my fics, so i have a good amount of content to go through. i could keep yapping, honestly, but i wanted to include the main things that cause my brainrot. gross pictures under the cut.

muscle atrophy. this happens quickly as the body enters starvation mode and begins to burn proteins. there would be a visible decrease in muscle mass, he would feel very weak and his limbs might tingle. recovery is possible, but isn't as easy as i think many people portray. the body is smart and will reduce its basal metabolic rate to adjust for a long period of starvation, and even after leaving the prison, his body would be primed and ready for another period of starvation. his body has learned that his environment doesn't provide consistent food. the body cannot 'reset' after a normal calorie intact resumes. the body keeps the score, or whatever they say. (i looked at a lot of pictures from 'the starvation experiment'. it lasted a little less than a year and was a setting where participants were carefully kept alive. most men lost 25% of their weight and only returned to their pre-study weight after 2 years of extensive treatment and therapy. u know cdream ain't seein a therapist. pictures under the cut)

quickened mouth decay / mouth dryness. on the topic of starvation, the mouth is actually one of the first places affected during a period of starvation. we don't make the saliva that we should when we aren't eating, and without saliva, the mouth begins to rot. this, along with fasting headaches, would be one of the first things he notices in the prison. it would be fixed pretty quickly upon eating normally.

seizures. many things can cause seizures to begin in someone who wasn't born with an epileptic condition, and dream's experienced most of them: starvation, head trauma, nerve damage, severe vitamin d deficiency, severe sodium deficiency, severe stress. these may decrease in frequency as he heals, but he'll be at greater risk if he fasts for any amount of time or if he's stressed. low-level muscle spasms are also going to be common.

impaired night vision/ decreased overall visual acuity. malnutrition does a ton of funky things, including to the eyes. he'd probably have a harder time adjusting to nighttime; i imagine returning to the prison is comfortable for this reason because he can control the brightness. hazy, eroded corneas are also common and might be visible to others. i put a picture under the cut. notice the green hue.

weakened immunity. like many others have mentioned, he will emerge from that cell with a paper-thin immune system. he'll be particularly weak to pneumonia and other respiratory diseases-- muscle atrophy also effects the muscles of the lungs.

essential tremors. just a fancy word for constant shaking. these could be psychological in nature, given the, you know, torture, but there are some links between malnutrition and tremors as well. he might try to hide it with weighted gloves.

improper amputation. "improper" is certainly a word for it, i know, but i want to emphasize that the kind of chop c!quackity would perform is nowhere near the level of a professional, surgical amputation. wearing a prosthetic would be very painful to say the least, especially if it isn't hand-crafted to suit his residual limb. i think cdream would probably try to endure that pain for the sake of hiding a major amputation, ie leg or arm, but i'm not sure he'd worry much about something like a finger. losing fingers doesn't affect grip strength as much as you might think, and i feel like thats all he'd really care about.

panic attacks, ptsd, memory loss, depression, hallucinations. just being locked in a single room for that long, let alone being tortured in it, would be enough for any of these symptoms. we have canon evidence for many of these, of course.

whatever other symptoms his injuries caused. depending on what tendons/muscles/bones quackity targeted, we might be looking at some different symptoms. i'm a big fan of concussion headcanons, and stiffness/immobility around scar tissue.

ultimately, i think the best bets for cdream as far as HIDING these effects are thick clothing, ill-fitting prosthetics, weighted gloves, moving in daylight, and avoiding confrontation. he'd probably want to prioritize mobility training to regain some dexterity and coordination, and to ensure that he can run away even if he can't fight.

^ eroded cornea

^ the starvation experiment

[cookie-crumblr]

The Smell of Smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 4~

His Info: 🖕✨

Part: 1 2 3 4 5

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch,little slut ), BULLY, gagging, extreme violence against reader, branding, burning, oral on ml, spitting, choking, water boarding, p in v, breeding kink themes, collars (i think all above is still non-con) DRUGGING(SO SORRY I FORGOT OMG)

“Name’s Ace! by the way, I mean…” Ace fumbles with his fingers and his hair for an awkward amount of time before speaking again. “Um… Y/N…” He takes a deep breath finally deciding to get to his point, “Stay away from my brother. I mean— like— please!”

“I wasn’t trying to be anywhere near the guy, he’s just… everywhere.” You sigh.

“I… I know… You have to keep trying though! I-It’s not that he’s a bad person… He just…” He makes a motion to your damaged person to demonstrate what he’s trying to say. “Anyway, I’ll get ya outta here and home safe, but you have to promise me at least eventually that you’ll stay away from us.”

(Changes how the future parts of SOS will play out)

Ace’s warning did little to change your future. Your present…

You washed your face in the bathroom at school.

That was all.

All you did to deserve this.

Ezra holds your face under the faucet and painfully smushed against the porcelain.

He shoves you harder against it suddenly, it twists your neck.

“Take it, bitch.” He uses his other arm to motion something behind your back. “Hold her. You, strip her.”

Other hands take the place of his against your head.

You hear a flame, “N-No!No!NoNonoNo!” you babble.

“Shut her up.” He motions to them with his shoulder. His hands are occupied, holding a blow torch in one, and a brand in the other.

You shake and struggle violently against them, one stuffs something into your mouth, and another breaks your leg by kicking in your knee.

You scream into the gag, and that isn’t even the worst pain you’ll get to experience today.

Ezra presses the red hot metal to your, now still, lower thigh.

The agony is immeasurable.

It feels like an eternity, but

You black out from it instantly.

You aren’t in a hospital when you wake this time.

It’s more like…

A prison. or, a detention center.

Your leg is set right, and your burns are being properly treated. The environment could be cleaner, but you seem… Safe.

“He’s coming down,” some guys guarding the cells say as they get into position.

Ezra comes down the stairs, you can hear him before you see him.

“When’s she gon’ wake up”

“Not for another hour or so…” someone pipes up.

His foot thumps come closer and closer until, he’s within your bed’s upright position’s view.

“She looks awake t’me.” He takes the man’s skull in his hands and slams it into the glass. His face comes closer as if to say something—

“Wait!! Wait! Ezra!! I literally just woke up!! Don’t!” You jump to your feet and the monitors buzz and screech. Your leg hurts.

“Get in there and stop her.” He opens the door and throws the man in.

He lights a cigarette as he stares holes into you.

The other guys grab you and force you back into bed. the “doctor” quickly and effectively, sets everything back into place.

You don’t have any fight left to try anything.

Ezra gets them all to leave before coming in to see you up close.

He tilts your head up roughly and bends down to kiss you without saying a word.

You let it happen, too tired to resist, though a fire builds in your core.

It almost burns, and then, he pulls away.

“You’ll need time to adjust, and heal.” He says as he stands back up.

“Adjust?”

“Yeah. Like new schedule ‘n shit. You’re… Under my protection now.” He rolls up his sleeves, “You have t’ adjust t’ this too.”

“To wha—” His dick is shoved into your mouth, wetness pools from the intrusion.

Hands in your hair forcing your nose bent up, and pressing tight against his body.

You choke around his girth. “Your mouth already forgot about this cock, I’m hurt” He throws his head back as he starts to fuck your face. Only bringing it back down, to stare at your big watery eyes.

His scowl deepens as he fucks you harder. “Don’t waste any.” He spits on you, as he cums down your throat.

“Turn tha fuck around, bitch, and crawl.”

You do as you’re told, looking back at him a couple of times and catching his lingering glances.

“I’m only gonna give you my fingers right now, and you’re gonna cum f’ me. Gotit, bitch?”

You nod.

Your legs shake, as he starts to stroke your lips. his thumb is teasing your entrance while his two fingers pinch and glide over your clit.

“Mm ah!!” You cry out, the dull throngs of pain from your leg injuries adding to you’re pleasures intensity.

“Good little slut” He fucks you harder and harder with just his fingers on the outside and his thumb not even inside you. You come completely undone on his hand.

He buckles a thick collar with a leash around your neck and ties it around a metal post.

“Mmf, actually, I might cum in you again,” His voice is so much deeper and hungrier than you’ve ever heard in anyone.

“Hah! ahh! haah haa!” You moan in rhythm of his thrusts.

*plap plap plap plap*

He stripped completely naked to fuck you.

This man goes all out.

He’s holding you by your arms, and he shot you up with morphine.

Your body burns so bad and you don’t even know how many times you’ve came.

He pulls you to the edge of the bed and folds your legs to your chest and into a mating press.

“Don’t fuckin’ waste this—“ He thrusts in harder, “I don’t cum ‘n sluts”

“Oof!” He’s knocking all the wind from your lungs as he pounds into your womb. “hu-huh!?”

*Plap — Plap — Plap!*

“AH!!” Your body shakes, and at the same time he reaches for some duct tape nearby, as he pulls out he wipes himself clean and presses his cum back into you.

He then puts the strip of it right over your cunt.

“Don’t have too much fun with that, ‘n you better not get fucking pregnant, bitch.” He disappears out the doors again, and you’re left a high and confused mess.

[toasttt11]

worse

April 28, 2025

It was the sixth playoff game in the first series and Penguins have won two so far. Kensington was having some great games in the games so far.

Kensington asked her family not to come out for the first round and come out if that make it two the second and her friends were all busy with the school year ending soon they couldn’t join anyways.

It was halfway through the third period and the teams were tied 2-2 and Kensington had just scored the last goal tying them back up during her last shift.

She looked up as she took the pass from Sidney when she suddenly felt the other team player slam into her but more importantly they slammed into her bad knee, she quickly crumpled to the floor and instantly she was groaning out in excruciating pain, it was completely worse than the first time it was injured.

Kensington was on her side and curled in to a little ball, holding her knee to her chest, whimpering out in pain as she felt so much pain in her knee, more than she has the whole time it’s been injured.

Sidney and Braden both quickly rushed over to her as well the penguins trainers, everyone on the team knows about her injury and they can see her holding her bad knee.

Kensington looked up with teary eyes and shook her head, she knew she wouldn’t be playing any longer.

The trainer had Sideny and Braden help her up again and she had all her weight on her good leg, her bad knee not even close to touching the ice. She wrapped her arms around the two and they both wrapped an arm around her back helping her stand.

They slowly helped her get of the ice and down the tunnel. Luckily they were playing at home so they had there full medical staff, Kensington was helped down the tunnel and in to a medical room and in to the medical bed.

Sidney and Braden both wanted to stay and be by her side, “Go, go win the game.” Kensington croaked out barely being able to open her eyes from how much pain she was in.

They didn’t win the game and the Penguins were out from the playoffs.

Kensington had gotten helped changed out of her uniform and equipment and they took her into the MRI, the medical team shared a uneasy look seeing how bad the knee had gotten from that hit, they knew surgery was now needed and as soon as possible.

Kensington was staring at the celling devastated as she knew her knee was worse she could feel how bad it was and she had just gotten out of the playoffs for the first time.

She looked up as the door opened and the doctors walked in with hesitant looks on their faces and Kensington felt dread fill her stomach as she knew something was bad, something bad with her knee.

“Tell me.” Kensington politely demanded she wanted to get it over with, she knew nothing good would be coming from them and she prepared for the worst.

“Your tear is still there and it has gotten worse, but you also damaged more in your knee. Kensington you have a grade 3 tear in your ACL and MCL. You’ll need surgery as soon as possible.” The doctor gravely told her.

“How long will i be out.” Kensington desperately questioned as she realized she know how three different tears in her one knee.

“At least four months up to six months depending on how it heals.” The other doctor sadly told her, “We can schedule your surgery for tomorrow morning we just need your consent.”

“Do it.” Kensington quickly agreed knowing the sooner she gets the surgery the sooner she can heal up.

The doctors left the room giving her some space.

One of the team members had gotten her personal items and brought her to Kensington, she grabbed her phone and saw hundreds of texts and she knew everyone saw her fall and were definitely texting her very worried.

She ignored everything and clicked on her mom’s contact, for the first in months she was calling someone else and not declining someone else’s call or face time, she held the phone up to her ear waiting for her mom to answer.

“Sunny!” Ellen quickly answered the phone and had four pairs of eyes on her all just as worried for Kensington.

Jack, Luke, Jim, Quinn and Ellen were all at home in Michigan watching her game together and had been worried like crazy since they saw her fall and get helped off the ice.

“Mama.” Kensington felt herself tear up at her mom’s voice, “I really need you to come here.” Kensington knew she couldn’t hide this any longer and she needed her family.

“Of course we will be out as soon as possible.” Ellen quickly assured just wanting to see her daughter, “Sunshine are you okay?” Ellen heard the wavering in her daughter’s voice.

“No. No I’m not okay.” Kensington whispered out, she hadn’t been okay in along time, “I’m getting surgery tomorrow.”

“Oh my sunshine.” Ellen covered her mouth knowing it has to be bad to get a surgery that quick, “We will be there okay.” Ellen reassured her.

“Thank you Mama.” Kensington sniffed blinking her eyes to keep her tears in.

“And uh could you tell Will please.” Kensington whispered softly she knew she needed Will just as much even if she felt like she didn’t deserve to ask for him to come with how she’s been treating him.

“I will.” Ellen hummed she knew she would tell Will, Ryan and Gabe and they all would be coming out as well, “I’ll see you tomorrow my sunshine i love you.”

“I love you too mom.” Kensington whispered back.

[smallhorse]

The Science of the Serum

Allow me, if you will, to put some science into the science fiction of the marvel cinematic universe.

the shield super soldier serum functions as an imperfect non sentient symbiote

it’s a unique blend of cells that requires a host to survive, when it enters into the system of the host, it immediately starts taking over and in a series of rapid cell multiplication and deletion, starts to make things better by replacing the old cells with the serum enhanced cells

however the cell replacement is imperfect in that it replaces healthy host cells fine, replaces its own cells very well, but damaged tissue is difficult for the serum to recognize and replace to optimum functionality

Steve had weak muscles but they were healthy muscles and therefore they were able to be enhanced by the serum, it took longer for his lungs to operate at full capacity but Steve had medication to assist the function of his normal lungs and so between the medication and the serum they were able to get those lungs up and running pretty quickly

Now what about damaged/imperfect cells that don’t heal on their own, even with the super soldier serum? This treatise posits that they remain the same in that the super soldier serum cannot determine how to fix these cells and so it settles with imitating the cells to the best of their enhanced abilities

Operating under this assumption, it can be inferred that the scars that Steve had pre-serum stayed with him after the serum was introduced into his system

Insert a transition sentence here!

Prior to the sleek vaccine system we know and love involving a singular needle depositing the vaccine intramuscularly, the vaccines, specifically the smallpox vaccine in this case, that were in use around the time when Steve was wandering around being all pre-serum and adorable were administered through scratches into the superficial layers of the skin created by multipronged lancets

As such, anyone who received the small pox vaccination were left with a distinctive scar on their arm

So obviously Steve was like what’s this something to make me less sick? Sign me the fuck up and of course he drags Bucky along and then a half hour later they’re walking out of the clinic with perfectly circular wounds on their left biceps

Of course they laugh: chicks dig scars! need me to kiss it better? I'll give you a lollipop if you don't cry this time. and these little scars that they share feel more like badges of honor, brotherhood, and love than they feel like representations of their inoculations

Now when Steve rescues Bucky from hydra imprisonment Bucky is obviously thrilled to see him but also he’s never seen Steve like this before, he finally has the physical presence that is attitude always needed and now it’s like he’s transformed. Bucky always knew Steve was brave but seeing him in battle is this cognitive dissonance that he can’t really get over for a while.

That is until one night they’re sleeping rough with the commandos camped out in the middle of nowhere and they get shoved into the same tent because dammit Steve snores and Bucky is the only one who can sleep through it and so they’re lying together, Bucky trying to find a way back to his friend that suddenly he doesn’t feel like he knows any more

Bucky is running his fingers over the new Steve just trying to familiarize himself with this new body when he feels that little nickel sized depression in Steve’s skin and by god it’s night out and he can’t see a damn thing but Bucky would know that scar anywhere in the world because he has the exact same one. And so their matching scars become almost a talisman to remind them of who they were and who they are to each other. 

Months go by and hydra is pleased with the success of their brain washing, they’ve almost got the asset convinced he’s all machine, there’s back slaps and congratulations all around but it had nothing to do with those shoddy scientists. Bucky wasn’t Bucky anymore when he reached for that little dimpled scar on his arm and felt only cold smooth metal. he wasn’t Steve’s Bucky anymore. he wasn’t Bucky anymore. He wasn’t anyone anymore. he was only ready to comply

[dynamic-k]

I don't actually know why I'm doing this, but oh well.

This is for Super Sticks. I love your fan fiction by the way, ITS AWESOME!!! :D

This idea kind of came to me in the middle of the night, and I'm not sure why but like:

Vic is an alchemy genius right? And he made something that could help with Hazard's gene problem thingy.

Agent Smith had a leg problem. Despite not having powers, he had proven himself to be an invaluable stick in his time at rocket.

I was thinking, it would be really interesting to see the mercenaries (although not really in super sticks) together. Like, how would they interact with each other? How would they function as a team?

I'm getting off topic xd

Ballista is currently a hero, so it would make sense for the team to be on the hero side, right? I think Primal and Hazard could do it, but Agent can't, due to his left leg being uhh... yeah.

I know it said in Arc 2, that Agent would still have a bad leg: 'Agent being a total badass even with one bad leg', but what if Vic made something to help Agent??? Maybe with Blue as well, if it was another potion...

Having the team helping with hero-ing might help Chosen, Dark, and Second, with all the new villains and such.

idk. i kind of made like an entire au of super sticks, where one small positive thing lead to a whole villain arc XD. The stuff above is just something that happened to pop up in my brain when i was supposed to do homework-

Yeah, I'm just going to stop now.

-R

[*muffled happy crying into pillow noises*]

AHHWBQJAHKRQAV THANK YOU!!

Vic is indeed an alchemy genius, and he did make immunity supplements. Hazard's usage of his powers always hurt him because his S.P.I. (self-power-immunity) cells were mutated and didn't work properly, so the S.P.I supplements that Vic designed for Hazard were to replace the failing cells. Multiple supplements will have to be taken to keep up the stockpile of good cells.

I have been meaning to include some mercenaries' bonding moments somewhere in Arc Two, or perhaps as a Bonus Feature! I just... Haven't yet figured out where in the timeline I want stuff to be placed yet-

It's so cool you've come up with your own little spinoff AU! I am very intrigued, hehehe

:D Agent is a hero at heart, bad leg neverminded. And I do have a very specific badass Agent scene broiling around in my brain since before Arc One was even completed- XD

In all technicality, Agent's leg is full healed... Except uhh

See, there's nerve damage. Agent's leg was rotated around completely backward and while the emergency surgery corrected it quickly afterward, there's a lasting numbness and mild pain flareups to be suffered from there on out. It may eventually go away after several years, but for now, it stays.

Plot wise, I never planned for Vic to miraculously come up with some solution or fix-it for Agent's leg, even though he is very smart in problem curing areas and alchemy. (This may change, I dunno. My brain is a little bouncy on unfirmed ideas-)

Vic straight-up invented those supplements, came up with a whole serum that mimicked those cell properties, to stand in as a viable substitute. And it took him a very long time to perfect it. It would probably take an equally long time, or even longer, if Vic were to attempt making something for Agent. And uhhh, he can't exactly experiment hands-on in the comfy confines of his current jail cell, can he-

Ballista and Hazard have already canonically been doing hero work in Arc Two's time, and our three Ladybug hollowheads are aware of it, though they haven't yet met Hazard in person. Agent reopened the Rocket Hero program that Vic had abandoned in Arc One, so yeah.

Primal will eventually hop onto the program, I'll say that much, but for nowwww.... The situation is complicated. And I have some plans to help complete her redemption arc. Arc One left things a little ambiguous and incomplete on purpose, hehe

"idk. i kind of made like an entire au of super sticks, where one small positive thing lead to a whole villain arc XD." Color me intrigued! :D I love spinoff AUs~

No wait- Don't stop- I was enjoying the ramble- /silly

[tanadrin]

As we age, it is almost as if we suffer a curse; every single thing in our body seems to work less well over time, and once we hit old age, it all seems to start breaking down rather quickly. Everything from how well we heal from injuries, to our immune system, to our senses seems to start falling apart at once.

As I understand it, the evolution of aging is the result of an almost accidental trade-off between reproductive fitness in the short term, and consequences for the individual member of the species in the long term. For instance, you have animals like octopuses and salmon who mate once then die, usually producing many hundreds of offspring. This is because lots of small cumulative adaptations that helped reproduction in the short term had negative consequences for the individual in the long term--but because these animals got so good at making that first reproductive opportunity really successful, the cost for fewer future opportunities to reproduce was (in terms of reproductive fitness) small. And over time their ancestors leaned harder and harder into this strategy.

Humans obviously aren't anywhere near that specialized. Our offspring are normally one at a time (and multiples are very high risk) and require a lot of care. Like all mammals, we nurse and look after our young. But there's still a degree of evolutionary tradeoff; base rates of disease and accident still make betting on reproductive opportunities too far in the future a losing proposition, and the act of giving birth is itself very dangerous for women, so it makes sense to still somewhat front-load our reproductive opportunities, and if we survive for a long time, to transition to a more supportive role for other members of the community (as indeed some hypothesize is the reason menopause evolved in the first place; but note male fertility also declines with age, even though there's no exact male equivalent to menopause).

So deleterious mutations that affect us mostly in our old age, or adaptations that come with a benefit in the short term, and with a high cost in the long term, probably built up in our genome for the same reasons that they did in that of octopuses and salmon, just in a less dramatic way. And so it makes sense that when we age, lots of things tend to go wrong. Aging isn't the product of a single process of system; it's the product of many systems in our bodies breaking down, because they have a degree of planned obsolescence built into them. This is why we shouldn't expect anti-aging interventions to be big dramatic breakthroughs that suddenly fix everything. We have lots of problems to deal with when it comes to "curing" aging, from shortening telomeres and waste products building up in our cells to UV damage to the eyes and loss of bone density, all from different sources.

Despite the image we may have absorbed from science fiction, longevity doesn't look like a single treatment that could easily be monopolized and sold at $100,000 a dose. It looks like hundreds of little things, many of which we're already working on quite diligently and making small-but-important breakthroughs in, and in areas where advances often go from "experimental and possibly very expensive" to "routinely available" in a couple of decades. And this makes sense too! Public health authorities and insurance companies have a vested interest in these advances--a treatment that improves the survival rate for a kind of cancer or helps to prevent heart disease means they have to pay less in more drastic, more expensive medical treatments down the line.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Godzilla biology and history

(Monsterverse inspired, but incorporates the Toho movies and adds some non-Godzilla kaiju).

Godzilla (Gojira colosseus) is indisputably the most well-known example of interior earth hyperfauna (colloquially referred to as kaiju or titans) and the most influential and controversial kaiju known to man. Three individuals of this species are known, referred to as Godzilla I, II, and III. G. colosseus is an apparent reptilian organism with a superficial resemblance to theropod dinosaurs, though the species displays multiple non-reptilian traits including external ears, gills, endothermy, and three rows of bony plates that occur in the back and tail as extensions of the vertebral column. Godzillas also have a more upright stance than theropods, with tails that drag along the ground. While determining the genetic relationships of hyperfauna has proven difficult with the limited data available, G. colosseus is speculated to be related to other known species including Titanosaurus amphibious (Titanosaurus), Gorosaurus asperacutus (Gorosaurus), and Gojiramimus piscovoria (Zilla).

As with other hyperfauna, Gojira colosseus is capable of deriving nutrition from radiation. While it evolved to feed on interior earth radiation, nuclear radiation is also used as a food source. As with other hyperfauna, Godzilla will supplement its radiation diet with other food sources. Godzilla has proven to be an obligate carnivore and will consume other kaiju or whales. Godzillas are amphibious, capable of surviving both on land and in water due to possessing both lungs and gills. The species spend most of their time in the water, only occasionally coming to land. While underwater Godzilla will swim by propelling itself with its tail or walk along the seafloor. An adult Godzilla can reach up to 120 meters in height and is enormously strong even for a creature of that size. Godzillas are also highly intelligent, capable of recognizing individual humans, quickly formulating strategies in battle, some tool use (usually limited to using objects as bludgeoning weapons), and commanding subordinate kaiju. The species possess secondary brains located near the pelvis that control much of the bodily functions and muscular activity of the body, leaving the primary brain free to focus on more complex thought. If either brain is damaged, the other can take over its functions. While the strength and intellect of G. colosseus are vital when battling, another major advantage the species has access to regenerator-g cells. Found in no other species, regenerator-g cells are a poorly-understood variant of stem cell capable of rapidly specializing and replacing damaged or missing cells. The regenerator-g cells grant Godzilla rapid healing, even by the standards of kaiju. It is speculated that a Godzilla could even regenerate a brain as long as the other remained intact.

As with many other species of hyperfauna, Gojira colosseus possesses an internal organ known as the Yamane organ that functions as a biological nuclear reactor. This organ provides Godzilla with a supply of radiation while it is away from sources of interior earth radiation. This is a temporary solution and any Kaiju will need to access a source of interior earth radiation avoid starvation in the long term. G. colosseus has evolves to weaponize its internal radiation in the form of a stream of superheated, ionized particles released from the mouth, commonly known as atomic breath. This stream can appear either as a solid beam or a cloud of vapor and glows blue due to Cherenkov radiation. In rarer cases often after absorbing excessive radiation, a Godzilla will produce a stronger red version of the atomic breath (the red spiral ray), or will release a cloud of superheated, ionized particles in an expanding radius around it, known as the nuclear pulse.

Gojira colosseus is known to be territorial and highly aggressive when provoked. The species is known as one of the few alpha species, kaiju which can force other kaiju to submit to and follow them, often after a battle for dominance. Other known alpha species include Gigatinea mosura (Mothra), Titanopithecus kongii (Kong), and Hypertestudine pyrovoria (Gamera). While nothing is known about how adult Godzilla interact with each other, the species has been observed practicing parental care (albeit only one instance of an adult and juvenile interacting has been observed) and both Godzillas II and III had formed alpha-subordinate relationships with other kaiju. Godzilla II and III had shown stronger bonds with some subordinate kaiju than others, most notably with Angilosaurus spinatesta (Anguirus) that some researchers suggest is indicative of possible bonds beyond the simple alpha-subordinate relationship, possibly indicating something recognizable to humans as friendship. Godzillas have also been known to temporarily ally with other kaiju species that do not submit to them as alphas, most notably Godzillas II and III with Mothra. While G. colosseus has many characteristics of an apex predator, the species are known to have been attacked by Titanus muto (Muto) to be used as hosts for their eggs and by Titanopithecus kongii (Kong) in apparent battles for dominance. In both cases, it is speculated that groups of those more social species would collectively attack individual Godzillas. As the interior earth ecosystem is in the process of recovering from an apparent mass extinction, it is difficult to gain some information about the relationships of certain species.

Godzilla I was the being that introduced humanity as a whole to the existence of kaiju. While paleontologists had begun finding fossil evidence of hyperfauna, nobody expected that such creatures could still be alive until one made landfall in Japan in 1954. Why Godzilla I chose to attack humanity is a matter of speculation, though it is believed that nuclear weapons testing in the Pacific Ocean woke it from hibernation and it may have interpreted the blasts as an attack. Regardless of its motives, Godzilla I traveled from the ocean to Tokyo, attacking islands and ships along the way. The attack was unprecedented and the JSDF had no effective way to respond as conventional weaponry proved ineffective. The answer came from scientist Dr. Daisuke Serizawa, who invented a weapon known as the oxygen destroyer, which utilized a chemical called micro-oxygen to break down molecular bonds in biological matter. Dr. Serizawa discovered micro oxygen in fossils later discovered to be constituent organisms of the colonial kaiju Destoroyah infernalis (Destoroyah). A survivor of the nuclear bombing of Japan at the end of World War II, Dr. Serizawa chose to keep the existence of micro-oxygen secret, fearing it could be used as a weapon even more terrible. In the end, Dr. Serizawa was convinced to use the oxygen destroyer against Godzilla I, but he destroyed his research and committed suicide to prevent the weapon from ever being recreated. Godzilla I was reduced to a skeleton, killed along with all other life in the Tokyo bay area. The ethics of Dr. Serizawa’s destruction of his research has been debated considerably since then. Certainly the oxygen destroyer could have caused immense devastation to humanity and the environment as a whole, but it could also have been a potent defense against other kaiju. Perhaps if Dr. Serizawa had known Godzilla was not the only one of its kind, he would have made a different decision.

In the aftermath of the attack on Japan, the world debated what to do. The creature was named Gojira after a storm god worshipped by the natives of one of the islands it attacked. English language reports mistranslated the name as Godzilla, which has become the accepted name for the species outside of Japan. Scientists were at a loss to explain how such a large creature (50 meters) could support its own weight or acquire enough food to sustain itself. The answer many arrived at was that the creature was originally a mundane animal, often speculated to be a marine reptile or late-surviving dinosaur, that was mutated by exposure to radiation from nuclear testing. Many believed, even hoped, that Godzilla was a lone freak of nature. Those hopes were dashed when, over a year later, a second, even larger (100 meters) Godzilla appeared and engaged in a battle for dominance with Anguirus. This battle marked a turning point in world history: the realization to mankind that we are not the uncontested masters of the world and that monsters are real. 

In response to the appearance of Godzilla II, multiple government organizations were founded to study and respond to the threat posed by hyperfauna. The most notable of these are the Japanese G-Force and USA's MONARCH. Godzilla II was active around the Pacific Ocean until 1995. It engaged in primarily territorial battles or battles of domination against many other kaiju in that time, causing considerable damage to human lives and property in that time but defeating other kaiju that could potentially have caused far more damage. Indeed, on several occasions, G-Force was forced to deliberately lure Godzilla II into combat with Kaiju posing a more immediate threat. While Godzilla I was actively hostile to humanity, Godzilla II seemed more indifferent to us. It made no attempt to actively attack humans, but also took no care to avoid human casualties during its activity. In 1993, G-Force agents began exploring an uncharted island that showed higher than expected levels of radiation (later discovered to be a wellspring of interior earth radiation) and discovered an egg. This egg eventually hatched into an infant Godzilla. The infant bonded with biologist Azusa Gojo, who took on a parental role to it while G-Force leadership discussed what to do with the kaiju. A significant fraction of G-Force believed killing the infant before it could become a threat was the best course of action. The choice was taken out of their hands when a Rodan (Volcaptera rodan) arrived on the island and attempted to attack the infant, likely in an attempt to kill a potential rival before it could mature. While G-Force agents stationed on the island attempted to drive off Rodan, Godzilla II arrived, apparently responding to a bioacoustic distress cry from the infant. Godzilla II quickly drove off the Rodan and began to care for the infant. G-Force decided that the risk of angering Godzilla by killing its adoptive child was far too great to take and began passively monitoring the situation. Both parent and child remained on the island, nicknamed Birth Island. Within two years, Godzilla III had grown to approximately 50 meters tall, a similar size to Godzilla I, which has led to speculation that Godzilla I was also a juvenile. Despite their similar size, the two individuals had very different behavior. Presumably, III’s bond with humans, particularly Azusa Gojo, led to it becoming much more trusting of humans and even protective of them. A similar example of exposure to humans as an infancy leading to benevolent behavior was observed by MONARCH in Zilla II. As it aged, Godzilla III began to become more independent of its parent. 

In 1995, multiple attacks on humans and animals by an unknown subkaiju in and around Tokyo attracted the attention of G-force. Victims of this attack were reduced to skeletons and it was determined by G-force that the deaths were identical to the effects of micro-oxygen. At first it was thought that someone had recreated Dr. Serizawa’s oxygen destroyer, but the truth was soon determined to be different. The subkaiju were in fact utilizing micro-oxygen. These subkaiju were determined to be colonial organisms made of countless smaller organisms working together and soon joined together to form the kaiju Destroyah, a living oxygen destroyer in the form of a monster. At the same time, Godzilla II was undergoing a meltdown as a result of a battle with the G-Force's Mechagodzilla weapon. This meltdown greatly enhanced Godzilla’s strength and the power of its atomic breath, as well as dramatically raising its body temperature. However, if not stopped, the meltdown would not only eventually kill Godzilla, but result in a nuclear explosion more powerful than any nuclear weapon ever created by humanity. This would result in radioactive fallout covering most of the planet, not only causing devastating effects on human health and the environment, but likely triggering many more kaiju to awaken. G-force developed a plan to rapidly manufacture absolute zero cannons and cool Godzilla at the moment of meltdown to prevent its explosion. Godzilla III encountered Destroyah and battled it, quickly losing. Godzilla II followed its child’s distress call and found III on the verge of death. Enraged, Godzilla II battled Destroyah even as G-force and the JSDF set up the absolute zero cannons. Godzilla II died that night, but G-force’s plan successfully prevented the explosion. Destroyah was killed by the combination of extreme heat and cold from Godzilla II’s meltdown and the absolute zero cannons. The release of radiation from Godzilla II’s death was absorbed by the dying Godzilla III, not only revitalizing it to full health, but rapidly accelerating its growth. Godzilla III quickly became fully grown at a larger size than its parent (120 meters). 

Godzilla III is still alive and has engaged in battle with multiple Kaiju over its life, including sparking a rivalry with Kong. It has clamed a large portion of the Pacific Ocean as its territory, particularly in the area around Monster Island, the site of a major wellspring of interior earth radiation. Godzilla III has been the subject of the Monster Island Project, a joint project between the G-Force and MONARCH to encourage kaiju to relocate to similar wellsprings or into the interior earth where abundant access to interior earth radiation for food will hopefully reduce confrontations between the kaiju, or at least ensure they happen away from human civilization. This project is still ongoing and its success has yet to be determined.

[foulbearobservation]

Lilith dies on a cold morning, held in the hands of those she loves.

Heat doesn’t bother Lilith anymore. A silent reminder that she isn’t dead. Can’t really say that she’s alive either, instead she’s here. Writhing underneath the frigidity of the divinium buried deep within her chest cavity. She can feel the heat building within her, an attempt by cells that are no longer hers to heal the damage.

Camila’s above her.

There’s blood on her cheek, smeared where Lilith had grabbed her. It’s small, dark red flecked in small stars of blue, just underneath the curve of a cheekbone. Discolored skin underneath her left eye, an angry red blossoming across her orbital cavity, her eye. She’s beautiful, distended above her, and some irrational part of Lilith wants to reach up and kiss her.

Fingers twitch within her, and her body reacts. Torso chasing after blood-soaked hands, begging to be touched, to be full of something. Lilith rolls her head back as smooth gloves trace over exposed scales.

A whimper escapes from parted lips.

“I’m sorry,” Camila breathes, barely audible underneath the steady and slow heartbeat filling her head.

“It’s okay,” Lilith gasps.

There’s a gentleness to the way Camila reenters her, reverence in her movements. Lilith feels her brush against the curve of her rib cage. Closes her eyes as another piece of divinium dislodges itself from muscle at the coxing of fingers. Shivers as heat rushes in to replace it. It’s warm and familiar and she wants to stay here. Suspended on the cusp of death, and she wonders if this is how Shannon had felt.

“Lilith,” the voice above her calls, a hand warm against her jaw. The blood’s sticky as it sinks into the pores, “Open your eyes.”

She obeys, simple and easy, eyes fluttering open to see Camila leaning over her. A slight indent forming across her forehead, Lilith’s hand comes up, draws a thumb across it. If only to soothe the skin, to say yes, I am here. Small stars blink to life across skin. There’s something striking as the blue reflects in Camila’s eyes.

“Don’t close your eyes please.”

“Okay.”

Another set of hands gently brings her arm down, they’re cooler than that of Camila. Gentle and firm underneath her scales as they crack a few. It burns as they brush them aside, a sudden cold wetness across the plane of skin.

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice whispers, breath warm against Lilith’s ear. Slight warmth builds in her stomach, heavy and hot, an inferno building in the cracks of coldness.

“Bea,” Lilith says, nearly begs as frigidity slips underneath her tissue. It sits cold amongst the heat of veins. A shock that would have taken her breath away if hands weren’t already wrapped around the smooth tissue. There’s a throb as it’s pulled as quickly as it arrived. Her fingers grasp at the curve of Beatrice’s hip, finding purchase against the bony portion of her crest.

Beatrice’s lips are warm against hers as she tugs the other woman towards her. Sweet as she remembers, not overbearing but pleasant like honey. Another divinium piece pulls itself from muscle, and she moans against Beatrice’s mouth. She follows those lips as her lover pulls away. Blue fills the cavity of the van as Beatrice braces herself against the ceiling. Constellations lighting up the night, strange and familiar, a latticework hidden in Lilith’s life blood. The bag of saline cascading distorted blue where Beatrice clings to it.

“I’m here, sorry,” Beatrice reassures, cold hands joining warm ones on her chest. Lilith shutters at the contact.

“Please,” Lilith prays.

Lilith dies on a cold morning, Camila’s hands buried deep in her chest cavity, Beatrice attempting to stabilize her.

She’s full as Beatrice takes over for Camila. Her fingers fishing for pieces of shrapnel. It doesn’t hurt as she would think, to be full of something is better than the relentless coldness. To be full of someone like Beatrice is all she craves, to be the center of her attention, on the other end of her knife point. It’s what she deserves, it’s what she was created for.

Her head rolls into Camila’s touch as her fingers drag across cartilage. Pads pressing into the pulse point, counting slowly.

Her heart stops, briefly, as Beatrice wraps her hand around it. It squeezes, stops, and there’s finally silence in Lilith’s ears. She’s not afraid. Dark red nearly black hands pull out of her chest cavity. Lilith watches Beatrice holds a large piece of shrapnel aloft, she wants her back. After a second, her heart begins to beat again.

Lilith tastes sweetness beyond compare as Ava leans over her. Lips soft as they take hers, hands burning as they rest against the sides of her head. Everything burning underneath the touch of scaredness. It’s gentle, the way Ava asks for more, how she hooks her fingers underneath the mandible. Heat racing with each kiss, settling into circulation.

Another pull, another bump as the driver turns a corner. There’s a whimper, a soft hush, and Lilith’s eyes flutter shut. Allowing the warmth of divinity to course through her, falling into the rhythm of Ava.

“Lilith,” Ava breathes in the moments she pulls away, “you’re going to be okay.”

Lilith dies with the small pinks of sunrise. Beatrice’s hands salvaging the mess of sinew, bone, and divinium. Camila, attempting to stabilize her, her hand grasp around the curve of Lilith’s wrist and cartilage. Ava putting her faith in her, coursing salvation through her.

Lilith finds salvation in the back of a van, in the hands of those she loves.

It's fitting then, that they do not allow Lilith to die in a way that matters. That they drag her back from the edge, as they always do.

Lilith wakes slightly at some point in the dark, when someone climbs into the hospital bed with her. She catches just faintly a soft, chiding, "Ava" followed by a sigh when the figure next to her doesn't move. A slight giggle from... someone (Camila maybe? It takes her longer and longer to put herself back together every time. Her mind always comes back to her last.) convinces Lilith's fight or flight reflex that she's safe here.

Lilith wakes, somehow alive, beautifully fully conscious at last, when afternoon light creeps through the curtains.

Ava is curled up under her left arm, drooling slightly onto her hospital gown. Beatrice has pulled a chair next to Lilith's bed and washed up. Her hands, now holding a book that she isn't focusing on, hold no trace of the dark red lifeblood they did in the van. She has her legs kicked up onto the edge of Lilith's bed, Camila is laying on top of Bea curled up in an oversized sweatshirt that Lilith vaguely recognizes as her own.

Beatrice is staring directly at her, book laid softly on Camila's back. "How are you feeling?" She whispers.

"Like I died and went to heaven." Lilith croaks out.

Lilith lives, then, in the way Beatrice's mouth curls into a smile.

"At least Saint Peter still has sense and sent you back." The joke is comfortable, a well worn exchange between them. "Return to sender."

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 03 - Tempest

(Content warning for slavery and violence)

It was the sound of the pouring rain that brought A'viloh back to his senses in the middle of the night.

Even down here, lying on the dirty old floorboards of the crew‘s quarters, he could hear the heavy raindrops drumming against the hull of the ship.

For some reason the slavers hadn’t locked him up again with the others as they usually did when they were done with torturing one of them. Vaguely he remembered how he had gotten here and immediately wished the rain hadn’t awoken him from his stupor.

He pressed his eyes shut hoping to go back to that hazy numbness, that somtimes graciously spirited his mind away when the monsters returned to fetch him from the cell. He didn’t want to be here and if he couldn’t change physically being here, he at least wanted to be elsewhere mentally.

He was so tired. So exhausted. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, not here. Sometimes he thought he would never be able to sleep again at all.

In the distance he heard the creaking of a wooden door and with it not only footsteps appeared but also the noise of howling wind outside. Heavy boots made the floor tremble right beside his head and he prayed to remain unnoticed, as if a naked Miqo'te with long tangled fire-red hair sprawled all over the floor was something that could just turn invisible. Maybe if he prentended good enough though they would think he was dead and throw him overboard or at least leave him alone for a while.

The man who had entered the room however didn’t pay any attention to him. Nonetheless his angry deep voice startled A‘viloh as the man began to shout.

„Get yer asses o‘ hammock ‘n onto deck! The Seven Hells be breakin‘ loose up thar! The cap‘n wants all o‘ ye ugly bilge rats t‘ muck in!“

A few ill-humoured groans echoed through the room and after another impatient yell by the first mate the remaining crew members reluctantly crawled out of their hammocks and up the stairs leading to the deck of the ship.

One of them stumbled over A'viloh in his drunken half-sleep but luckily just got up again with a string of profanities on his lips but without really taking notice of him.

Then the Miqo'te was left alone in the dark stuffy room and finally dared to breath again. And as the thunder outside began to growl and everything turned silent apart from the muffled sound of the storm, he allowed himself to cry. For a long while his pained bitter sobs where all he could hear until with a deafening crash another lightning struck down from the sky and made the whole ship tremble.

Alarmed A'viloh shrieked and stared up to the ceiling with his arms raised in defense. This sound had been too loud, too close, and the yells on deck got louder and more nervous too. For a a few moment he just lay there and listened, trying to understand what was going on.

Something was wrong.

This is your chance!, a voice whispered in his head but he knew better than to listen to it. The first time he had tried to flee - or whatever you would call the only way to escape from a ship in the middle of the ocean - he had been caught quickly. Immediately they had noticed him running over the deck and before he could even get one leg over the railing they had grabbed him. Their punishment had been severe and the black and blue bruises all over his body still reminded him never to misbehave again.

But what if you all break out at once?, the voice whispered. Now they are distracted. There won’t be a better opportunity.

Weakly A'viloh tried to sit up but every single part of his body protested. He hadn’t eaten anything in days except for a few crumbs of moldy hard bread they had thrown to their captives. Neither did all the bruises covering his body help, nothing dangerous that wouldn’t heal but it hurt nonetheless. He remembered the captain ordering his crew not to damage his cargo beyond repair, after all he still planned to sell them all. And yet A'viloh was quite sure one of them had broken his tail earlier that evening and apart from this he also felt pretty much beyond repair too.

Suddenly something upstairs creaked dangerously followed by a loud crash and more shouting. Whatever was going on there, seemed to be more than a small problem. Maybe no one would see him distracted by the turmoil…

With his eyes always fixed on the doorway he wrapped himself in the tattered rugs he had been given instead of his clothes and slowly crawled towards the stairs. He used the doorframe as support to get onto his feet but his legs felt so wobbly he more stumbled up the staircase than walked. However when he saw the chaos unfolded outside he froze in his his steps.

One of the the two masts had broken and fallen sideways, maybe struck by the lightning A'viloh had heard earlier, causing a great amount of damage to the ship. There was fire, bright and hot, greedily spreading itself over the deck of the ship and everyone seemed to run around without coordination, trying to put out the flames or pulling on some ropes, to at least keep the rest of the ship working. For a moment A'viloh just stared in disbelief before one realisation flared up clearly in his mind.

The ship is going to sink.

He whirled around in panic and ran down the first and also the second pair of stairs as fast as he could, down to the cargo hold of the ship. Weakly he threw himself against the heavy wooden door and rattled at the handle. A face appeared behind the little barred window. He couldn’t recognise it in the dark but the voice sounded familiar.

„A'viloh? You are back! What is going on? Are you alright?“

He didn’t answer the question and instead kept pulling on the doorhandle with as much energy as he still possessed. Of course it didn’t open.

„It is locked“, he croaked and noticed how thin and hoarse and miserable his own voice sounded to him. Disheartened he added, „I think the ship is going down…“

Wasn’t that what he had wished for? For these monsters to get their rightful punishment? Hadn’t he been willing to welcome death gratefully if it meant for him to get away from here?

Why did he still feel so terrified then?

„Do you know where the key is?“, the voice on the other side of the door asked. Nervously A'viloh searched the room in front of the door for any clues but could only shake his head.

„I think the guy with that ugly scar on his face has it.“, another voice called from inside the cell. „You have to get it, A‘viloh! You have to get us out of here!“

Horrified he stared into the darkness of the cell. He would never be able to steal the key from one of these men, especially not if he had to search for him in that chaos upstairs first. And what if they caught him?

„Please!“, one of the Ala Mhigan girls cried in fear but to A'viloh it felt like a slap through his face.

They were all going to die unless he did something. So he nodded and turned around, running up the stairs again. He at least had to try.

When he arrived on the deck wind and rain greeted him, but despite the rain the fire had already gotten worse. Hesitantly he stayed hidden in the half-dark of the doorframe and tried to find the man the woman had spoken about but with smoke and chaos everywhere this wasn’t an easy task.

After a few moments that felt like an eternity his eyes finally landed on a man at the front of the ship, pulling with all his power on a rope attached to the front mast. A'viloh thought he recognized his hair and his clothes even without seeing his face and indeed he spotted a key ring fixed at the side of his belt.

As quickly as he could he sneaked along the side of the ship, trying to stay unseen and avoid running into any of the pirates. But they had different things to worry about anyway…

Carefully he climbed the handful of steps leading up to the front deck, not that anyone would have heard the boards creak through the noise of this tempest.

There right in front of him the man stood with his back turned to him, focused on his work, and at his belt the wanted key ring.

Slowly he stretched out his hand.

Just a little more.

Then another loud crash split the air.

For a second A'viloh thought he had lost his hearing but then he heard the man in front of him scream.

Panicked he jumped backwards in fear but the scream hadn’t been directed towards him. Instead the man retreated while he stared up to the mast, which had apparently been struck by another lightning. Slowly the material cracked and the mast started to tilt. A'viloh could see the thoughts racing on the man‘s face, as he quickly dropped the rope and tried to run away. He wasn't fast enough though. In a slow but unstoppable movement the mast fell towards the back of the ship burying probably a dozen of men beneath it. The weight of the impact tore a gaping hole into the deck and made huge chunks of broken wood fly in all directions.

For a moment most of the screams apart from the wails of wounded had gone silent. Then through the noise of thunder, wind and rain the ship started to groan. A deep, ominous sound that made A'viloh shudder.

Luckily he had remained unharmed by the accident and briefly he wondered if he could reach for the keys still at the belt of the man who lay buried beneath the front mast a few yalms away from him.

But then with another ugly crunching sound the hull of the ship, weakened by the fire and the damage, broke apart.

The whole vessel tilted dangerously sideways.

For A'viloh on his shaky legs it seemed impossible to remain standing.

With a yelp he fell to the floor and began to roll over the wet planks of the more and more tilting ship.

He tried to hold on to something but before he could find anything his back painfully hit the railing of the ship.

For the tiniest moment he was flying.

Then he hit the water.

Shocked he gasped for air but instead swallowed a mouthful of sea water. The ocean felt cold but the salty water burned. In his eyes, in the scratches all over his body, in his lungs. He had never learned how to swim, not that he would have had the power to do so now. Instead he helpless struggled against the waves and tried to reach for a piece of wood that swam in the water beside him.

But the slippery surface escaped his fingers and another wave of angry water hit him, almost pushing him under. Gasping and coughing he thrashed around, trying to stay afloat.

Then finally he got a grip on the broken piece of the ship’s hull. With the last bit of his energy he pulled his body onto the lifesaving piece of the wreckage, before he fainted.

[realmofthefaesubs]

Most recent Subliminal from Realm Of The Fae Subs , Epic Life Elixir, You can have it all! Brain Sync, Manifest in 10 seconds or less! Energetically Enhanced with Rainbow Diamond Aura Light Reiki and the Assistance of the Arch Angels Miracle Formula to Hemisync your brain, heal any trauma in you brain, subconscious or conscious mind. Heal any and all past present and prevent traumatic future events from happening.

Rife frequency, scalar waves and affirmations used. Headphones required.

Benefits and Affirmations:

*Brain Sync of the left and right hemisphere. helps to increase flowstate and creativity and facilitates brain hemisphere synchronization through the use of binaural and isochronic frequencies/tones primarily in the theta to alpha range allowing for more fluid to flow through the brain.

*Rife Frequency for Brain sync and healing any damage caused by substances or other harmful toxins or traumas.

The problem with society worldwide is that we are all taught from the time we are children to utilize chemicals to treat disease. From the time we are conscious, we are told to “see your doctor”. We are told this thousands of times every year and that gets repeated for every year of one’s life until they die. Same goes with “take this medication or pill” for this condition or that condition. Get yourself a blue pill, get this immunization and so on.

It never ends: one cannot read a magazine, turn on a TV or a radio and not be subjected to this constant form of message reinforcement. The propaganda persists from cradle to grave.

So that being said, such programming is what someone new brings to the discussion when they are inquiring about frequency alternatives. They will often filter what is being said through prior experience and the subconscious meme of “health comes from chemicals”. There are many other methods such as Chiropractic, Acupuncture, and many different forms of body energy therapies.

The use of frequency instruments has been around for well over a century. We just don’t tend to think of these instruments as frequency devices. Devices like electro-cauterization units and electric scalpels are frequency instruments. Pulsed short wave diathermy used for deep tissue heating, TENS units, ultra sound units, Bio Feedback devices, Micro Current devices, Bone Growth Stimulators and Lasers, are all frequency devices.

There are many other devices in common usage that depend upon the use of frequencies. Those frequencies often are specific to the production of a desired physiological effect. So the use of frequencies is nothing new, and are in use every minute of every day worldwide helping people.”

Rife machines use low-energy electrical impulses to kill or disable diseased cells by targeting the electromagnetic frequency of a medical condition. The pads on the machine are attached to the patient's hands or feet, and treatment is often done at a health clinic, but can also be used in meditations and subliminal treatments.

*Scalar waves to purify any and all negative energy from the body and atmosphere

*Ultimate Beauty enhancement, all of your features will be enhanced and modified very quickly, perfect small narrow sloped nose, get rid of nose bridge

*Have Angelic ethereal beauty, Bright eyes, angel skull, perfectly proportioned ideal face in seconds

*You are the ultimate beauty, when you walk in a room everyone stares in awe of your beauty

*You have perfect lashes, hair and lips, perfect body

*You are able to manifest your ideal wardrobe to enhance your glow up even further

*You literally glow from the inside out, your cells are healed and in turn causes your skin to shine naturally, it's like you have on natural makeup all the time

*You are perfect in every photo that you take and every video you record. Removes any spells cast against your beauty from shining through

*You literally have your dream life. Everything every second goes completely perfect for you.

*You live where you want, have your ideal friend group and the money and car you want

*You have a perfect social life

*wattpad life is your reality

*You are confident , you will feel an extreme confidence boost, everyone will want to be you

*You are extremely lucky and win things and get gifts all the time

*Every day you wake up in your dream reality

*Birds and animals sing to you , want to be close to you because your aura is so radiant and beautiful

*You are a star and very popular

*You succeed in everything that you do, and get perfect results

*You are able to manifest within seconds

*You have magical manifestation powers, you get what you want all the time.

*You literally feel like you are living in a dream everyday because it's so perfect, you are so perfect and your life is so perfect!

Drink water, dna upgrade, light activation, deep healing, unisex, use headphones! I love you all to infinity and beyond!

__Donations:

*Paypal-https://paypal.me/Realmofthefaesubs

*Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/realmofthefaesubs

___Paid Request (Open)

*I do not take requests or suggestions unless they're paid requests

Contact me:

RealmOfTheFaeSubs@yahoo.com