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thesimulationswarm · 2 years ago

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Balsam Prelude and Chapter 1: Some Kind of Noble Calling

This is a story about trauma. What trauma does to a person, and what trauma does to a community. And how, in the midst of it, people find their way to joy, delight— even love.

Pairing: Joel Miller x original female character Summary: After the events of tlou, Joel and Ellie try to establish a “normal life” in Jackson, but neither of them are any good at normal. A town doctor tries to care for residents who have experienced unspeakable trauma, and struggles to overcome her own past at the same time. Joel finds himself drawn to her, as their lives become increasingly intertwined. Meanwhile, outside Jackson, troubling things are happening... Rating: explicit 18+ MDNI Word count: 6k Warnings: slow burn, I promise there will be smut but not yet, f/m relationship, not a reader insert, canon-typical violence, descriptions of medical situations, descriptions of trauma and PTSD, Ellie and Joel figuring out how to be family, Tommy and Joel figuring out how to be family, angst, fluff, based on show Jackson because I haven't played tlou part ii, this is the first fic I've been brave enough to put out in the world so be kind.

Series Masterlist

PRELUDE

The boy struggled to work the crowbar; his fingers were so cold he couldn’t really feel them and his grip kept slipping. Finally, though, the old wood splintered around the bolt latch and gave way. He pushed through the door of the shed and fell to the ground inside, spent.

The cold hurt. He was so tired. He’d gone past ordinary hunger, to that desperate place beyond. So now that he was out of the cutting wind, all he wanted was to go to sleep.

Coco had followed him in. She sniffed at the boy’s face, and he felt the warm breath on his skin for a brief, lovely moment. Then she padded away toward the back wall of the small room.

“Come back here, girl,” the boy called out. But she didn’t come back. Was she leaving him now, too? He just wanted to burry his face in her fur and smell her smell as he drifted off. If his father couldn’t be here with him, at least the dog he’d loved could.

He heard a brief, sharp bark. He lifted his head. Coco was sitting by a metal rack on the wall, pointing her nose at something on the second shelf.

“What is it, Coco?” She barked again, still pointing.

He moved slowly, regretfully, as he pulled his aching body up again. She was pointing at an old shoebox, and didn’t stir as he approached.

He brushed the cobwebs away and lifted the lid. It was full of small, dark brown packages. He lifted one close to his face, to examine it in the light coming through the open door.

MEAL, READY TO EAT, INDIVIDUAL, it read. CHICKEN A LA KING.

CHAPTER 1: Some Kind of Noble Calling

“You need to take her to Dr. Conner,” Maria said brusquely, as soon as she’d walked in the room. Ellie was curled listlessly on the couch, face flushed and mottled and hair slicked down with sweat.

“Dr. Conner? Where is he?” Joel asked.

“She is on 2nd street, top of the hill.”

He nodded and looked away from Maria’s icy face. Just what he needed, for her to add sexism to his list of sins. He squatted down to lift Ellie in his arms, held back a groan as his knees popped, and headed toward the door. He was always surprised at how little she weighed, given her sheer force of nature.

“I can walk. I’m not dead yet,” she whined at him hoarsely, squirming against his hold. It was half-hearted, and he kept his grip.

“Not happening.”

Dr. Connor’s was a narrow, two-story building, and the windows were covered with dark curtains. The sign above the door was painted simply with a red cross on a white background. He knocked but didn’t wait, yanking the doorknob and shouldering through the entryway.

Inside was bare, with a row of wooden chairs and a hand-written sign instructing visitors to take a seat. Two doors stood closed, and Joel was eyeing them to determine which he should open next when a breezy voice called from behind one.

“If you’re breathing and not bleeding out, hang on and I’ll be there in five.”

He sighed and set Ellie on a chair before dropping down beside her.

“Nicer than the FEDRA clinics at least,” Ellie deadpanned, her voice creaky and strained.

He looked around the little waiting room. It wasn’t exactly impressive, but if you’d only ever seen a QZ medical facility it must've seemed like the height of luxury.

“There used to be places like this. You got to see the doctor in a room by yourself instead of a big ward with half the neighborhood lined up.” He paused. “It was nice. Especially if you had somethin’ going on you didn’t want to share with everybody you knew.”

She quirked a sweaty eyebrow at him. “Like what?”

“Pass.”

They looked up in unison as a door creaked open and a woman strode in, dressed in jeans and a canvas apron. She was small, tawny-skinned and dark-haired. Younger than he’d expected, although not young-young on second inspection—the start of lines spreading out from the corners of her eyes, a resigned slope of her shoulders. In her 30s, maybe: the last generation to remember life before.

“Please, follow me.” The woman gestured into a small room with a bright overhead light. She pointed Ellie to a cot covered with a faded, flowered sheet and Joel to a stool beside it.

“I’m Nina, I work as a healer,” she said, extending a hand first to Ellie—who limply grasped it—and then to Joel.

He kept his arms down by his side.

“I thought you were an actual doctor,” he said sharply.

He didn’t come here for one of Maria’s communist friends to do some crystal healing, align Ellie’s chakras or some shit.

She gave him a small smile. “People call me that because I’m the closest Jackson has, and I’ve been treating people for years. But no, I’m not old enough to have finished medical school 20 years ago.” Her voice was mild, even friendly, but her eyes asked a question: Are you going to be a problem for me?

He set his jaw but sat back on the stool. He’d at least see if she could help.

“It’s Ellie, isn’t it?” Nina moved closer to Ellie and smiled brightly at her miserable face, looking her up and down. She pulled an old glass thermometer out of a pocket and held it up for Ellie to see before popping it in her mouth. While she waited for it to take a measurement, she slid her other hand down to grasp Ellie’s wrist and held it lightly, watching the numbers on her watch as she felt for a pulse.

“When did she start feeling bad?” She nodded her head slightly in Joel’s direction—Ellie had her mouth full—but kept her eyes on her patient.

“Two days ago. Hit her like a ton of bricks. She’s had fever and chills, and won’t eat anything. Barely takin’ sips of water when I beg her to.”

“Sore throat?”

“Says it feels like knives.” Ellie nodded bleakly to confirm.

The doctor—or the healer, or whatever the hell she was—pulled the thermometer out and nodded at it. She raised both hands to Ellie’s neck, but paused before touching her.

“I’m just going to feel here for your lymph nodes, Ellie.”

She waited to see confirmation in Ellie’s face before continuing, running her hands carefully down below her jawline.

The exam went on, through the familiar steps: Open your mouth as wide as you can, that’s good, now I’m going to check your ears.

He had a sudden, clear memory of sitting in the pediatrician’s office. Watching Sarah as she sat on a paper-covered table.

He could smell the disinfectant and powdered latex, and see the silhouette of her doctor standing there. He was a gray-haired man, always friendly in a fake-feeling way, who whore a crisp white coat over a shirt and tie. Made him feel self-conscious, looking down at his dirt-caked boots and browned forearms.

Sarah used to sit on that exam table and cry when she had to get shots. Not all hysterical or fighting to get away like some kids—just silent tears that slipped out of the corner of her eyes.

He remembered how, when she was five years old, she’d swallowed a penny and he’d rushed her over to the clinic. It wasn’t like her to do something like that: she was thoughtful and sweet even at that age, a rule-follower to a fault. His heart had jackhammered in his chest as he had visions of her intestines puncturing or her being rushed to emergency surgery.

The doc explained patiently that these things usually “passed” on their own. With a little chuckle he gave him a plastic bowl that fit inside the toilet and instructions to check it for the next week to make sure the penny came out the other end.

He recalled the rush of relief and the flush of embarrassment. Watching the doc laugh and feeling like a moron for having gotten himself so worked up.

“Earth to Joel,” Ellie croaked. He turned to see two pairs of eyes on his: Ellie’s red-rimmed and liquid brown, the doctor’s—he was now noticing— so dark they were almost black.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Most likely it’s strep throat, although there’s no way to tell for sure without tests I don’t have,” the doctor said. “I’ll give you some antibiotics, and if it is strep, it will start to get better right away.”

“What if it’s not strep?” Joel asked, heart in his throat.

She smiled. “Then it’s a virus, and she’ll get better on her own.” Her tone was reassuringly confident. Joel watched her disappear briefly out the door, then return with a paper packet she pressed into his hand.

“Take these twice a day. Even if she starts to feel better, do not stop the medicine until it’s all gone. I know we’re all used to stretching supplies, but it doesn’t work that way with antibiotics—she’ll get sick again, and worse.” She looked to him for acknowledgement, and he nodded.

“Keep pushing her to drink fluids.” She turned to Ellie now, who was hunched over and looked about ready to pass out. “You’re dehydrated, kiddo. It’s part of why you feel so bad right now. If you don’t drink, it’s only going to get worse.” She spoke pointedly but gently, and Ellie shrugged an assent. “And if you aren’t feeling better in two days, come back and see me.”

It was late when Tommy got home. Pretty much every part of his body hurt after the day’s work— fixing freeze damage to their well system— and he had been dreaming of crawling into bed with Maria.

Not the way he sometimes dreamed of crawling into bed with her, even now with her looking like she’d swallowed a watermelon. Maybe he’d have the energy for that in the morning, but tonight he just wanted to feel her in his arms and time his deep slow breaths with hers.

She was already fast asleep, so he moved as carefully as he could, lifting up the covers and sidling in behind her. She was curled on her left side and he tucked his body tightly against hers, his arm snaking gently around her bare belly. When he was lucky he could feel the baby kicking against his hand in this position, although right now both baby and mama were at rest.

He lay there, willing himself to relax into sleep. But there was too damn much on his mind these days.

This winter had been brutal, even for Wyoming. The town had held together with a lot of hard work and ingenuity. But out there in the countryside, others had not been so successful. He’d heard awful stories: starvation, cannibalism, raiding parties far and wide. The patrols kept running into trouble, and although so far the groups had been small enough to handle, who was to say they’d stay that way?

Tommy knew that people in Jackson looked to him and Maria to keep them safe. It was more responsibility than he’d ever had before in his life, really. He was proud of himself— and scared shitless.

He breathed in Maria’s smell, nose pressed against the nape of her neck. He tried to count all the blessings in his life, savoring each one. It was a trick he used sometimes, to make his thoughts shut up. This incredible woman who had saved his life. The baby she was growing for them. This town. A full stomach. A warm bed. Joel doing so good, for once, with that kid of his.

Although Joel was maybe not the best topic to think about, if he wanted to sleep tonight. Not that he wasn’t grateful, or happy to have him nearby and safe. But his feelings were complicated. Sometimes he hated to admit how much of a hold his big brother still had on him. Made him feel like a little boy, hungry for approval. And at the same time reminded him of the lowest points in his life.

If he was honest with himself, he’d felt a lot of relief along with the guilt and sadness when he’d left Boston. He’d felt the same when he cut off radio contact.

Something had changed with Joel though, lately. He was still a bitter man, tightly wound and full of pain. But Tommy had seen moments of tenderness from him that he thought he’d never see again. Even moments of joy.

He felt the prickle of tears in his tired eyes. He knew he was being naive, that a little bit of good couldn’t undo all the darkness that they’d been through. But he clung to the hope still, as he started to drift off to sleep: him with his baby, Joel with his girl—maybe they would all be okay.

“Tommy!”

He turned with a smile as the doc walked up, clapping a hand against his back. “Hey Dr. Connor! How’s it been?”

“I’m going on your next southwest patrol,” she said. Announcing, not asking, as she had a frustrating tendency to do.

He took a sharp breath through his nose. “Nina—“

“It’s time to harvest willow bark. I need enough for the next year, for all of Jackson.”

“I understand, I really do. But this winter has been rough and people are desperate. We’ve had some kind of trouble almost every patrol. It’s just too dangerous to stop and hang around out there.” He used the most authoritative tone he could muster, trying to stare the small woman down.

“And people won’t be any less desperate until we’re well into April. By then the trees will be in full leaf and we’ll be out of the window for harvesting. And I’ll have half a dozen angry locals wanting to know why I don’t have the tea for their arthritis or their heart condition.”

She fixed him with a dark stare, and he fiddled with the frayed edge of his jacket cuff.

She knew how Jackson worked, and if he said no she could and would bring it up at the council meeting. Where she would no doubt whip up the town’s crotchetiest and most infirm—who had nothing better to do than sit in on every meeting of every committee—into a rage over herbal tea. Shit.

He nodded curtly. “Friday at dawn. If there are any signs of trouble before we hit the riverbank, we’ll have to turn back.”

“I really appreciate it Tommy,” she said with what she surely thought was a winning smile. Which he did not return: he was not in the mood.

Marisa stirred the stockpot of oatmeal gently between customers, to keep crust from forming on top. She stared out at the dining room and watched the clusters of people. Some were deep in conversation; some wolfed down their breakfasts so they could hurry on with their days; others looked half-asleep still.

A group of teenagers were tucked way back in the corner, as far as they could get from the adults, clearly enjoying their morning bullshit session. She remembered doing that just a few years ago, with Anya and Jamal, when her dad wasn’t around to see her goofing off. He believed that if teenagers had energy to run their jaws, they had energy to work.

The new folks came in with a blast of cold air.

They were an odd pair. The girl was rude and mouthed off too much, but she had a lot of energy and seemed like fun. The kind of kid Marisa had always been fascinated by, when she was that age. Wishing she could move in the world with that kind of confidence.

The man, though, gave her the willies. He was intense and stern, like her dad. He never smiled, although he did at least say please and thank you. She couldn’t hardly believe he was Tommy’s brother. Tommy was his exact opposite, gentle and friendly.

She used to think Tommy was cute. She still did, really, but she didn’t think about him much lately. She was too busy daydreaming about her Beloved.

She called him that after an old romance book she’d found in an empty house and hidden under her mattress. The book took place during the Civil War, and the buxom narrator fell in love with a dashing soldier. She wrote letters to him every day, addressed to My Beloved. The soldier in the book had beautiful blue eyes, just like Marisa’s Beloved.

Tommy was out there now, talking with Dr. Connor. He looked unhappy. Dr. Connor could do that to people. She was always so nice when you were sick or hurt and went to see her. But out in the real world she could be mean as a snake. Or maybe she was more like a fox: someone sly, someone you had to watch.

Brandy Burkholder had started working with her last summer, after a several month campaign. Nina had eventually determined that she was serious about learning to practice medicine, despite the fact that she wasn’t terribly serious about anything else. She was an outgoing sixteen-year-old with a pretty smile and a flare for the dramatic, and she came by on Tuesdays and Thursdays to help Nina with various tasks.

Today it was supply inventory. Every other week she went through what she had, checked her levels on common medications and herbs, and looked through her equipment for signs of damage or wear.

Nina enjoyed inventory, even if what she had to inventory was often pathetic. There was something calming about lining up all the bottles, looking over her orderly shelves, and counting all the pills and needles and rolls of gauze.

And there was some extra excitement this afternoon: they were going through a bag of random medicines and gear to see what could be salvaged. Anya and Clemons had found in an empty house on a hunting trip earlier that week.

Brandy held up an orange plastic bottle of pills from the haul. “Dox—y—cy—cline,” she sounded out carefully. “That’s an antibiotic, right? So it goes in the cabinet above the sink?”

“Hold up. What’s the date on the bottle?”

“Um, let me see.” She squinted to read the fading print. “Damn. It’s from 1999. This is an antique!”

Nina shook her head. “Toss it. Expired tetracyclines can be toxic.” It was a shame— she really could have used it.

She pulled out a bottle of Benadryl tablets, and pried open the lid. Some of the pills had swollen with absorbed moisture and cracked, but they were mostly intact and there was no mold. She added it to the keep pile.

Brandy showed her a box of individually packaged 22 gauge needles. The plastic wrappers were warped and brittle and had cracked open along the seams. But the needles inside were straight and sharp. She would sanitize them in the autoclave and they’d be good as new. Another keep.

A bottle of cough syrup had hardened to a shiny paste— toss. Two inhalers were empty—toss again. Half a tub of vaseline went in the keep pile. Then she found something really good at the bottom of the bag: an almost-full bottle of Valium.

“Isn’t this the stuff that bored housewives used to get high on?” Brandy asked, smirking.

“Yes, and that’s why it goes in the locked cabinet,” Nina said pointedly. She didn’t need Brandy getting any ideas. “But more importantly, it’s the best treatment when someone’s actively having a seizure. It’s also very helpful for setting bones.”

“Sweet! There was some good loot in that bag.”

Nina looked over the shelves appraisingly. “Yes, but it’s not enough. This all has to last until Mo comes by in April.”

“Are you going out to meet him?” Brandy’s eyes sparkled at the mention of the smuggler. Nina knew how people talked about him: the dashing Robin Hood who stole from FEDRA and gave to the people. But it’s not like he gave them anything: they paid him, in valuable farm goods like butter and honey, for every last thing.

Nina didn’t say anything about that to Brandy, though; let the kid have her fantasies. She also didn’t mention the fear that kept her up at night— that next time she went out to meet Mo, he wouldn’t show. She knew it was only a matter of time before his line of work caught up with him, and that when it happened they would be shit out of luck. Jackson did a lot of things well, but manufacturing antibiotics wasn’t one of them.

“Yep, April ninth. Three weeks after the equinox,” was all she said.

The sun was melting into the horizon, bathing the street in golden light and purple shadows. Joel was walking to the saddler when he saw the woman up ahead and quickened his pace.

“Hey! Dr. Connor!”

She turned as he approached and raised an eyebrow. “So I’m enough of a doctor for you now? How’s Ellie?”

“Well, she’s a hundred percent better. Givin’ me shit and drivin’ me crazy.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” The doctor seemed genuinely pleased. “I’m sure you deserve whatever shit she’s giving you,” she added.

“Look,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I wasn’t very fair to you the other day. And you helped us out anyway. I appreciate that.”

She looked at him, meeting his eyes with an intensity that startled him. There were those deep brown irises he’d noticed in her office, framed by thick black lashes.

Then she smiled, holding out her hand to him. Her grip was surprisingly firm as they shook. “You’re not the first person to doubt my expertise. I appreciate you putting your daughter in my care.”

He looked over her shoulder, at the reddish sky reflecting in the window of a supply depot, and took a breath. “I know people don’t pay for things here or anything, but I feel like—I mean, I would like to give you something at least. For the medicine.”

She waved dismissively. “I’ve seen you go out on patrol. You keep Jackson safe, I keep Jackson alive. We all do our part.”

She laid a hand on his stiff shoulder and gave him a pat. Then she turned and headed back in the direction she’d been walking, before he could figure out how he ought to respond. He watched her for a moment, her dark curls swinging over a denim jacket, his shoulder tingling with a phantom pressure where her hand had been a moment ago.

Jackson made him real fucking uncomfortable, sometimes.

He didn’t like owing people favors, and he didn’t feel like he belonged in a town where everyone was so nice all the time. The doctor was case in point— he’d been mean to her when they’d first met, and that hadn’t been right. But he’d tried to be nice to her too now, and it still felt weird as hell. Maybe he’d entirely forgotten how to be nice.

He walked on, hands shoved in his pockets. If he was honest, he didn’t want to be living here. In the house across from his little brother, like some kind of post-apocalyptic sitcom. It brought back all kinds of things he didn’t want to think about.

He was going on patrol Friday and he was looking forward to it. At least out there he knew what to do with himself. Stay alert, keep moving, assess the situation, maintain control— with force if needed.

Ellie looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, then quickly opened the door below the red cross and slipped inside. She sighed with relief to see no one inside the waiting room, and sat down with her backpack clutched to her chest.

Dr. Connor stepped into the room, thankfully alone, and smiled warmly as she pointed Ellie toward a door. Ellie darted in and jumped up on the cot, then looked down at her sneakers. One had a bit of rubber starting to come loose around the toe, and she gently wiggled it with her other foot. She heard Dr. Connor close the door behind her, and then the expectant silence.

“How can I help you today, Ellie?”

Her cheeks burned, and she found she couldn’t look up. Why did the town doctor have to be beautiful? For an old person, but still. She kept studying her feet, as she heard the scrape of a chair being pulled over and the soft thump of Dr. Connor sitting down a few feet away.

When the doctor spoke again, her voice was soft. “I’ll ask you a few questions. All you have to do is say yes or no. You don’t even have to speak, just shake your head. Okay?” Ellie exhaled, then nodded.

“Did someone hurt you?” Ellie shook her head no emphatically.

“Are you having a problem with a private part of your body?” Ellie paused, then nodded once.

“Is it your related to your period?” Head shake. “Are you having pain?” Head shake. “Itchiness?” Nod. “Discharge?” Ellie felt like her cheeks were going to catch on fire as she nodded again.

“Are you sexually active?”

“No!” Ellie shouted, looking up at Dr. Connor with a startled stare.

“It would be okay if you were. You wouldn’t be in trouble. And I wouldn’t tell anyone—not even Joel.” Her voice was even and conversational, as if she were talking about the weather and not about fucking.

“Well, I’m not,” she snapped. “I don’t know why this is happening. It’s never done this before.”

“Have you ever taken antibiotics before?”

She thought for a moment. At FEDRA school they gave you pills sometimes if you were sick, but they never even told you what they were. Some of the kids said they were sugar pills, and some of the kids said they were tranquilizers designed to make you behave. She shrugged. “I don’t actually know.”

“Did your symptoms start after you began taking the pills?” Ellie nodded.

“I’ll want to do a quick exam to be sure, but yeast infections can be a side effect of antibiotics. Your vulva actually has a lot of bacteria living in it—good bacteria.” Ellie raised her eyebrows and fixed the doctor with a horrified look, but she ignored her and went on speaking.

“It’s like a garden with lots of different plants growing side by side. The plants are healthy, and there are enough of them that they fill up the space and keep the weeds out. The antibiotic got rid of the bad bacteria in your throat, but it also wiped out the good bacteria in your vulva. It’s like we picked all the good stuff from that garden, and now there’s good soil and plenty of space for bad stuff to grow. That’s allowed the yeast to take over—it’s actually a fungus.”

“Like cordyceps?” Ellie asked, eyes widening.

“Yes, like cordyceps. But it’s a different species, and unlike cordyceps we have medication that will kill the yeast. You’ll be back to normal in no time.” Ellie felt relief wash over her.

Wednesday morning was for house calls. As she left the dining hall, her supply bag bouncing heavily against her left hip, she ran into Ellie and Joel on their way in. The girl smiled sheepishly and looked away; the man twitched a corner of his mouth and held the door for her. Which for gruff types like that, new to civilization, was as good as a pledge of everlasting fealty.

She watched her breath fog through the cold March morning as she walked, feeling vaguely anxious.

Miss Nora’s house was on the corner, a low redbrick ranch. She let herself in, knowing Miss Nora’s son was out prepping the fields for planting, and headed into the living room that doubled as Miss Nora’s bedroom these days. She was sitting up in her bed, carefully knitting a big orange sweater. “Dr. Connor! So good of you to come by.”

Nina leaned in, letting Miss Nora plant a papery kiss on her cheek. “You know you can call me Nina,” she said, pulling her stethoscope out of her bag and sitting on the edge of the mattress.

She gave her brightest smile, trying to hide any trace of the dismay she felt every time she walked in there. Miss Nora was 67, and until last fall had looked a decade younger than that. Now every week she seems to age another 5 years, her face growing gaunter, her hair thinner, her skin more sallow.

Her son Jamal, ever diligent, tried to tempt her with all her favorite foods, but she would push the plate away after a bite or two. He fought with her over it, convinced that if she would just force herself to eat she would regain her strength.

Nina, on the other hand, was not so optimistic. She thought Miss Nora’s body was shutting down: the lack of appetite was only a symptom of something much more serious.

She suspected cancer, but couldn’t say for sure what kind. Obviously, it was affecting the liver or the common bile duct, based on her yellowing eyes and skin. But that could be a metastasis from a solid tumor somewhere else. She once again felt the woman’s abdomen gently, palpating for a mass. Still nothing. Not that it mattered, ultimately—even if she could magically intuit that it was, say, pancreatic cancer, she wouldn’t be any closer to being able to treat it.

At least her lungs still sounded clear. Nina pulled the stethoscope from her ears and slung it around her neck. “Are you ready for your breathing treatment?”

The woman nodded enthusiastically as Nina carefully packed the pipe she’d brought with dried leaves.

It was old, crumbly, and low quality, and it was hell to get ahold of. But like the opium she kept carefully hidden away in her locked cabinet, marijuana was one of the more potent herbal medicines in her arsenal.

She had nothing else to offer Miss Nora.

She saved Maria for her last stop of the morning. Maria could have easily come to her clinic, even 7 months along, but Nina wanted to confer with her anyways. And she loved Maria’s house—with the late morning light pouring through the windows she could almost believe she was in the suburbs of her childhood.

Maria was making tea when she arrived, and they sat in the living room with a mug each. The steam felt good against her face—while they were out of the worst of the winter, the wind was still brutal on these mornings as she walked from house to house.

After a little small talk she eased Maria backwards on the couch and pulled out her Pinard horn, rolling it between her palms for warmth. Nina had carved it herself out of maple wood, shaping the little trumpet painstakingly to match the illustrations in an old midwifery book.

She could still remember the sense of triumph when, years ago, she first pressed it into a woman’s belly and heard the fetal heartbeat buried inside. People thought medicine was some kind of noble calling—and there were moments when it felt that way to her, too. But more often she was driven by that magic feeling of the body yielding up its secrets to her.

Everything looked good on the exam, despite Maria’s “advanced maternal age.” The same as it had been every week of her pregnancy so far.

Still, Nina worried.

There was a lot that could go wrong bringing a baby into the world, for both baby and mother. Maria was her friend, and she knew how devastated she would be if she lost the child. She also knew how much Maria meant to Jackson, and she worried about the impact of losing Maria even more.

“I’d like your thoughts on something.”

Maria fixed her with one of her looks. “It’s usually not something good when you say that.”

Nina sighed. “I had a patient come in yesterday with what was almost certainly the clap. I treated him, but the man in question was married, and I have reason to believe he didn’t get it from his wife.”

Maria’s brow shot up. “Jesus, Nina. That’s not something I want to know about.”

“I would rather not have to know about it either. But we need to know about it. Both women he’s sleeping with could have infections.”

Maria’s expression hardened as she listened.

“And if the women have other partners, who knows how many people in Jackson are affected? Gonorrhea isn’t just a drippy dick. People could have pelvic inflammatory disease, ectopic pregnancies, miscarriages. Babies can be born with infections.”

“Do you know who the other woman is? You could treat her, too,” Maria offered.

“I… have my suspicions. But I’m not 100%. And he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

She thought about Derek Starkey sitting in her clinic, head buried in his hands. Starkey’s wife, Jenna, had given birth to their first kid last summer. They’d always made a beautiful couple: Starkey was a big guy, tall and broad, with ruddy cheeks and icy blue eyes. Jenna was tough and sweet, with a blonde ponytail and freckles across the bridge of her nose. The son they doted on took after them both, depending on the day.

She was inclined to hate Starkey’s guts.

A guy who couldn’t take it when his wife wasn’t dressing up as prettily as she used to or wasn’t as available as she once was to him, because she was busy caring for his infant child. Marisa Robinson, who worked with Starkey in the kitchens when he wasn’t on patrol, was younger and needy and made puppy dog eyes at him while he kneaded dough with his big strong arms. It was a tale as old as time: another shitty man behaves badly.

She struggled to hold onto her resolve, though, as they spoke. Starkey’d been barely sleeping since the kid was born. Every night in bed he was flooded with images of terrible deaths. He saw his child infected, shot, decapitated, drowned. All those monstrous things he’d seen over the years and had been powerless to stop, and which he now felt powerless to protect his beautiful boy from. Life in Jackson had given him a measure of peace, which had seemed like enough when it was just him and Jenna. But it felt too horribly tenuous now to trust. And Jenna didn’t get it. She slept like a rock between feedings. She told him to get over himself, had no time to talk him down from his panic attacks. Someone else had been willing to hold him while he shook with fear.

“Then we have to tell the wife, at least.”

Nina shook her head. “I keep going back and forth on it. It might break up a marriage, and that could have reverberations throughout the community. And the other woman, there could be consequences for her, too.” She thought of Marisa’s controlling father, who always creeped her out.

“But also the next time someone has symptoms like this they might not come to me, because I wouldn’t be a safe person to tell. Then this stuff would spread around town and we wouldn’t even know.”

Maria gave her an exasperated look.

Nina wasn’t sure what she had expected. It would feel so nice to off-load this problem onto Maria. But her friend was maybe too absolutist to navigate this one. Or else there just was no way to resolve things that would feel right.

“I’m going to have to think on it some more,” she said, as she packed her supplies. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

#tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x original character #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #Ellie Williams #Tommy Miller #Maria Miller #soft!joel miller #series #tlou fluff #tlou show #tlou

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witchesaandbitches · 1 year ago

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Dying Flowers and Harvest Fruits: Autumn Scents for the Dark Romantic

Dried florals, sweet fruit, woolly jumpers and a touch of smoke and leather. All the scents of autumn for the dark academic who prefers a more feminine and elegant touch.

Tom Ford Violet Blonde

Powdery floral with a whiff of suede. Smells like old money. That girl in your class who you know went to boarding school and has a brother with an 'III' after his name. She wears her boyfriend's threadbare cardigans but her hair is always perfect.

Miller Harris Rose en Noir

A vintage, dusty rose with a natural elegance. Smells like an autumn day spent inside hiding from the rain, next to your lover who smells faintly like cigarette ash. There is an old bouquet of roses on the table, dried to a dark crimson.

Byredo Velvet Haze

Cashmere jumper with an earthy and slightly sweet musk. Smells like a change in seasons. Warm, fuzzy and comforting, like a cup of hot coco.

I Heart Juicy Couture

A bite from the first perfect apple of the season, walking though the orchard on a bright and breezy day. Sweet, juicy fruit with a touch of musk and patchouli to dirty it up a bit. This is perfect for early fall when the air is crisp. Don't judge this one by its bottle.

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merryfortune · 2 months ago

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Dream Girl

Written for Femslash February 2025

Day 4. Astral

Series: Glitter Puffs

Title: Dream Girl

Ship: Nozomi/Urara

Fandom: Yes! Pretty Cure 5

Word Count: 2,524

Rating: T

Warning: None

Tags: Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Supernatural Elements, Kissing, Love Confessions

Nozomi put herself to be like usual.

She got into her pajamas: a pair of shorts and button-up shirt, both pretty breezy for the late spring and early summer nights which could get quite warm. She brushed her teeth and swished her mouth out with water, too. She brushed her hair and put some curlers in. She told her parents that she loved them and would see them in the morning before finally turning off the lights in her room so she could crawl into bed.

It was all pretty normal. She went to sleep, the darkness soothed her and then… She woke up.

Not in the morning, no, nor her bedroom either. This was something else. This was a tiny little kingdom filled with tall coconut trees and the tiniest of residents. It was in the middle of a desert, huddled around a crystal blue oasis and there was a castle.

Nozomi’s heart thudded in her chest. She realised something. This was the Palmiere Kingdom. A place she had never visited before but had seen pictures, heard stories. It was warm here: blazingly warm with azure skies overhead which lacked a single cloud.

She wandered around, feeling a giant amongst the settlement and found herself at the castle. Where else? It was one of the few places in the Kingdom, which she could see all of from east to west, that could accommodate her side. Even if she did have to get on her knees and wiggle through the front door. The guardian knights outside didn’t so much bat an eyelash.

It was though they were expecting her - or that she wasn’t actually there.

Upon entering the castle, Nozomi found Coco pretty fast and her oh. Her heart pounded.

Of course. Coco had a family in the Palmiere Kingdom. A mother, a father, grandparents. His Grandfather was in bed and looked quite aged, grey fur and saggy whiskers. His wife, Coco’s Grandmother, held his little paw and Coco did his best to put up a smile.

“I’ll go get a fresh wet towel. That might help with Grandfather’s fever.” Coco said but he sounded guilty for suggesting it.

Regardless, his Mother encouraged the kindness. His Father just stared.

Coco turned around and was shocked to see Nozomi in the room. Upon their eyes meeting, the room faded away. The smooth cobblestone walls, the decadent rugs of scarlet with their golden tassels. All of it.

“What are you doing here?” Coco squeaked and then laughed awkwardly. “Actually, it makes sense you would be here. Your magic must be getting stronger.”

“My magic?” Nozomi echoed.

Coco began to walk forward and Nozomi walked with him into a white void.

“You are the Pretty Cure of Hopes and Dreams, your affinity is with light, it makes sense that your powers would develop in this space.” Coco said. “I’m proud of you, Nozomi, for being able to grow like this.”

“I’m still confused, Coco.” Nozomi admitted. “What is this place? What does it have to do with my powers as Cure Dream?”

“This is my dream. You are astral projecting right now, Nozomi. That means when you went to sleep tonight, you left your body and found mine, haha.” Coco replied.

“Oh.” Nozomi swallowed thickly - and blushed just a little.

“Ah, I worded that poorly but still, keep at it and you might be able to do it on purpose. Just think about it, your mastery is over light: dreams are the lights we see in the dark of sleep.” Coco furthered explained.

Nozomi hummed and thought about Coco’s wisdom. She supposed it made sense. When she closed her eyes, she saw phosphenes on the back of her eyelids. During sleep, dreaming occurred dream the REM phase and REM stood for rapid eye movement. So those movements, they turnd those lights into images akin to how animation functioned. Thanks to Coco’s tutoring, she remembered more titbits from science like this. Though not certain, she felt like she came around to what Coco meant.

“I see.” Nozomi mumbled.

“Here you go, I think we’ve walked far enough so you can go back to your own dream now, Nozomi.” Coco told her upon making an abrupt stop. He looked up at her and smiled, “Good luck with learning your powers better. I hope the other girls are able to master their magic just like you.”

“Thank you, Coco.” Nozomi replied.

“Oh, and, um, before I go… Don’t worry if you saw anything in my dream,” Coco’s voice sounded assuring, “I was dreaming about something that happened a long time ago and feel better about. In fact, it was nice to see my Grandparents again, even if it had to be like that.”

“I understand.” Nozomi replied.

“Good night, Nozomi.” Coco bade her.

“Good night, Coco.” Nozomi returned his sentiments and then.

Poof. He disappeared.

The dream ended and Nozomi reefed herself from her bed. She looked around her room. Her stuffed animals, the posters on the wall, her messy dresser. She paid close attention to the details just to make sure this wasn’t another dream. It definitely wasn’t but there was a strange feeling in her chest. Perhaps from that little scene of grief that Coco’s dream had showed her. There was a lot she didn’t know about being a Pretty Cure.

Astral projecting, dreamwalking… She had no idea that the magic of being a Pretty Cure could even be accessed outside of that alternative form of hers. She wondered what growing pains the other girls might start going through with their powers, what that would like for them. It made her curious and as their leader, the first Pretty Cure, Nozomi vowed to blaze the trail ahead so she could help better.

So every now and again, Nozomi tried to see if she could trigger this power of hers on purpose. She couldn’t. Duh. She was Yumehara Nozomi, flunkee extraordinaire and generally an unlucky, clumsy person but every now and again, it did happen by accident.

Nozomi got into all sorts of mischief, she would admit, being able to peek into the dreams of others. It wasn’t all fun and games, Coco’s dream having given her a baseline of what could be serious about a dream, but it could be.

Little kids had dreams which were tonnes of fun, mishmashes of anime and cartoons with candy coloured fairy tales. Adults had rather serious dreams, she discovered, realistic examinations of what they would do in emergency situations. Teenagers, like her, had dreams which were all over the place, in between the aforementioned age groups: sometimes childish, sometimes chilling. Occasionally Nozomi even saw something that made her blush. She believed those were called wet dreams.

None of it a true reflection of reality but the hope of seeing something out of the ordinary did make Nozomi’s nighttime routine a whole lot more interesting. She didn’t mind being a sightseer. Though, it did involve a lot of time management when she had school in the morning.

It was funny. Coco had been the only dream she had entered that belonged to someone she knew. Until now.

“Urara.” Nozomi breathed when she saw her dear companion.

However… The atmosphere of Urara’s dream was off. Nozomi could feel it instinctively, though she was unable to fully articulate why because from her position looking in, this looked like Urara’s wildest dreams come true.

Her dream was taking place within a dramatic stage, made of the richest, darkest wood and adorned with heavy curtains of crimson velvet. The room was filled with faceless, shadowy people who clapped and cheered, their ordinance all calling for the name of Kasugano Urara. Over and over again and there she was.

Up on the stage, dyed in dynamic lighting of amber and wearing clothes that reminded Nozomi of renaissance Europe. Her silhouette was akin to that of a cupcake, she was boarded up in stifling taffeta and large shifts of stiff silk. She wore silver and gold, her hair done up with a conical accessory of velour, topped with an opaque ribbon.

“Wherefore art thou… Romeo?” Urara began.

Nozomi got chills from that line alone. Urara’s pronunciation was immaculate. Her expression was beautifully tortured, a tear on her cheek which glimmered. Her hands were clasped together in prayer.

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name.” Urara continued.

Shakespeare… Performing Shakespeare for such an enthusiastic crowd had to be the ultimate achievement of any thespian, Nozomi was certain. He was renowned for good reason and Urara’s performance thus far from the first two lines alone was sparkling.

“Or if thou wilt be sworn my name, quoth the Raven-”

Urara’s expression faltered. Now, Nozomi wasn’t a whiz of medieval English but she was fairly certain that was not how the monologue was meant to continue. The fact Urara looked so betrayed by her own lips, oh, it made Nozomi’s heart ache with worry.

“The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun… the frumious Bandersnatch…”

Those weren’t even words now, Nozomi was sure. Her stomach twisted and knotted. She drew in closer to the stage and then she felt it. A change in the crowd. They began to boo and jeer.

Urara fretted on stage as her credibility as an actor was torn to shreds. She looked through the crowds, not a caring face, not a kind word. She trembled and she fidgeted and she buckled beneath the weight of it all. Practice, schoolwork, scripts, and more. All the behind the scenes work and she couldn’t escape it.

Not even in her dreams.

Nozomi wouldn’t allow it. Her heart quaked in her chest. She knew that Urara was a brilliant actress. She was a reliable student and a polite employee. She wouldn’t allow the crowd to turn on Urara and torture her in this nightmare.

The darkness that the audience wallowed in slowed Nozomi down as she tried to get up onto the stage. The flooring, once a crisp carpet, melted and turned gooey. The people, already faceless and unidentifiable, began to merge and turn amorphous. They grabbed at her, tried to draw her into their cruel blobs but Nozomi fought it off.

She grabbed the edge of the stage. The wooden planks were hard and hot, warmed to a boiling point by those terrible stage lights. The amber colour had become a harsh, urine-coloured yellow. But Nozomi pulled herself up nonetheless with all her might.

She leapt onto the stage and to Urara’s rescue.

“You were doing great, Urara, don’t listen to them,” Nozomi urged her, “this isn’t real, this is just a nightmare.”

She knelt at Urara’s feet. She had all but curled up into a ball, hands over her head. Her once majestic dress that had trapped her, now ribboned and dirty. With tremors in her fingers, Nozomi reached out and coaxed Urara to look up.

Trembling, terrified, Urara slowly looked up and her eyes watered when she saw Nozomi. Nozomi smiled weakly and held her hand gently, peeling it away from the side of Urara’s face which was puffy and smeared with dried tears.

“I’m here now.” Nozomi told her.

“Nozomi…” Urara’s voice was high and warbling. “My hero!”

Urara flung herself at Nozomi. Her arms flapped out wide and then inwards in an enormous hug. She buried herself against Nozomi’s breast, clad in her pyjamas, and held onto her tightly.

“Thank you, Nozomi, thank you.” Urara’s voice was high and pithy and grateful.

“Your welcome-”

Nozomi attempted to reply to Urara but Urara was quicker with a kiss of all things.

Her hands rose and caressed the side of Nozomi’s face, she zoomed in and kissed her. Urara’s hands were delicate but her lips were anything but. Her passion was intense, and open-mouthed. Nozomi stiffened, her eyes widened as this happened.

Her first kiss.

Did it even count as a first kiss? She was really, truly here but to Urara, she was a figment of her imagination.

Yet as a first kiss, despite these surreal circumstances, it was not a bad kiss. Quite the opposite in fact. Urara overflowed with her affections, her lips were all but electric. She was sweet and supple and when Nozomi calmed down despite the surprise, she was able to kiss back.

Nozomi kissed Urara back with reverence, chastity. She did her best to enjoy it, the dream shifted around them. The stage lights softened to a mellow buttercup. The auditorium was emptied of those people and their cruel jeering. The orchestra began to pluck upon silver notes that were jovial and merry. Urara sighed when she ended the kiss and gazed adoringly into Nozomi’s eyes.

“Nozomi…” Urara professed in a low voice, drawing back. “I love you. Thank you for saving me from my bad dreams… hehe, you really are my dream girl. I - I could never confess such things in real life.”

Nozomi’s heart could have leapt out of her chest. She decided that it would be best to play along. To keep pretending she was just a manifestation of this crush that Urara on her, appearing in her dreams to safeguard her. It was sweet, honestly, even if it left Nozomi awestruck.

She stared, all but unable to breathe as she processed this kiss - and her feelings regarding it. Nozomi licked her lips and felt a trill when she got a scant taste of the remnants of her and Urara’s kiss. That seemed to be confirm her now budding feelings…

“I-I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Urara,” Nozomi replied, through wracked nerves, “but, um, just know… you are my dream girl, too.”

“Thank you, Nozomi.” Urara replied with a smile that could out shine the stars. It was so dazzling.

The dream began to fade and Nozomi found her escape. She felt bad, leaving Urara behind on the stage but when she turned her back, she was able to see Urara rise to her full height, short as it may be, and resume her monologue.

“And I’ll no longer be a Capulet…”

That made Nozomi happy as she disappeared, making her way home and to her body again. She woke up not too long after - and before her morning alarm even. Nozomi blushed as she recalled the events of last night’s dream. Her lips still felt kissed as though it had been real, in the flesh.

She was all but in fantasy herself as she got ready for school. She resolved to pretend that it had never happened! It would be better that way. To kiss and exchange such confessions, it was too much, embarrassing, and yet enough to make Nozomi swoon.

But Urara was the first person she saw in the daytime, in her school uniform. She looked as giddy as she normally did, bounding up to say hello. The rest of the school looked dreary and dull for a Monday morning, all stone walls and sleepy students, and yet Urara was an energetic beam of sunshine outside those curly, steel gates.

“Nozomi, Nozomi, you’ll never guess,” Urara teased her, bouncing on her heel, “but last time… you were in my dreams!”

#femslash #femslashfeb2025 #<- doing ur prompts out of order sorry #femslash february 2025 #uranozo #nozoura #nozomi x urara #urara x nozomi #yes precure 5 #yes precure 5 gogo #kasugano urara #yumehara nozomi #writing tag #dream girl

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marionedde · 10 months ago

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finally.

after throwing all logic and human emotions out the window, i did it.

i mapped out mobius.

if anyone corrects me on anything i am legally allowed to go feral on them.

ok lets start!

includes maps plus their egg boss which would function as bosses if this were a game

easier to see/ image id in the alt (not all of them are written yet im very tired)

space and whatever

overall

united federation

egg boss: Thunderbolt the chinchilla

adabat (i had to make up a lot of names so if you dont recognize some its because of that.)

Egg boss: Abyss the Squid

Chun-Nan

Egg boss: Battle Lord Kukku (babylon garden) + Conquering Storm

Apotos, Soleanna and Spagonia

Egg bosses: Lord Mordred Hood, Nephthys the Vulture, Maw the Thylacine

Shamar

Egg boss: Wendy Naugus

Holoska

Egg boss: Tundra the Walrus

Mazuri

Egg boss: Axel the Water Buffalo

Mirage Island

Egg boss: Akhlut the Orca

Starfall Islands

Egg boss: the pentagon (see team egglets)

The EGGpire

Egg boss: Eggman (duh)

Westside island

Egg boss: fiona the fox

christmas island

Egg boss: breezie the hedgehog

northstar island

Egg boss: none

Coco island, flicky island, east watch island

Egg bosses: Carrotia the rabbit, hocke-wolf, bearenger

South Island

Egg boss: Clove the Pronghorn

Angel Island

Egg boss: Cassia the Pronghorn

MASTERPOST

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sth #my art #cartography #im going insane #sonic tag team! au #egg bosses

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harmonyhighlights · 1 year ago

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Evergreen Valley

a charming town near the Harmony Heighlights School is known for its welcoming environment and vibrant cultural scene and the town's Evergreen Park offers a serene escape with winding pathways flower gardens and ponds and the town's close-knit community fosters unity and pride among residents making it an ideal setting for learning

Town ponies

Hydro Heli Lila Berry Breezy Coal Nila Oxie Flora Nova Salty Magi Ally Silvie Phoebe Sunny Clarity Aurora Pepper Cali Skyler Titan Vera Crystal Melody Ivan Coco Nixie Copperella Zephyr Galaxy Gemma Artemis Seraphina Brooke Krystal Ruby Stardust Yara Zara Nimbus Moxy Tessa Rhea Rosalind Pippa Stella Cadence Indy Tilly Astrid Tessa Isla Xena Celeste Belle Luna

Harmony Highlights Elementary

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minusgangtime · 6 months ago

Note

TW: descriptions of body horror and gore.

Sprunki crew horror body conditions.

Shelby (survivor)

Nala (missing hands and eyes)

Casper (torn out wings.)

Midnight (torn out ears and tail,burnt skin and missing one eye.)

Pinkie (torn open)

Temp (survivor)

Sunny (burnt)

Simba (head cracked open)

Herb (eyes popped out)

Seasalt (suffocation)

Lavender (mouth torn out.)

Blaze (burnt)

Snow ( got monocromed)

Nightfall (skin torn apart.)

Galaxy (survived)

Penny (chopped apart

Sweetie ( stomach torn open)

Coral (torn out arms)

Shade (eyes sliced.)

Kiara (survivor)

Thunder (head cracked open.)

Oreo (brain torn out.)

Cloud (insides and hair torn out.)

Snowball (teeth and eyes torn out)

Flambé (burnt)

Ella (mouth ripped out and crown stabbed into head.)

Leo (pipes stabbed into him.)

Elly (survivor,covered in blood.)

Lapis (torn open,carved smile and eyes torn out.)

Zack (eyes torn out.)

Emreld (legs and arms torn out.)

Xavier (survivor)

Eda (survivor)

Ghost (survivor)

Cali (survivor.)

German Shepard - gallace (one half of his face torn out.)

Bulldog -Chase (heart missing.)

Golden retriever - Goldie (mouth torn out)

Husky -cookie (survivor)

Chuwalla-rascal (legs and mouth torn out)

Wiener dog -biscuit (legs torn out)

Bichon (poofy pooch) -marshmallow (most hair torn out/revealed brain)

Pomeranian -Cheeto (legs and mouth torn out.)

Yorkshire terrier -buck (legs torn out)

Corgi - pixie (tail snd ears torn out)

Sheltie-Sadie (hair torn out/exposed brain)

Shiba Inu-janko (tail torn out,slit throat)

Samoyed-taffy (torn out hair/exposed brain)

Poodle -jewel (torn out hair/brain exposed,torn out legs)

Australian shepered-Brutus (arms and legs torn out.)

Chow chow-crunchie (hair torn out/exposed brain)

Cavalier king- Charles (ears torn out.)

Black pup-spot (slit throat.)

Alaskan malamute -Everest (cracked open head.)

Bernese mountain dog-toasty (torn off feet.)

Lollipop (head impaled on bars)

Derpy (eyes torn out)

Bloom (survivor)

Inkie (missing skin)

Blinkie (arms chopped off.)

Minkie (eyeless and wide toothy grin.)

Onyx (survivor)

Thomas (deadname: Sarah) (face torn off.)

Maud (eyes torn out.)

Crimson (cut open)

Sugar (cut open.)

Mulan (deadname: moldo) (legs cut off.)

Babs (survivor)

Kiki (key stabbed deep into head)

Stella (skinless and carved open.)

Cascade (shot several times.)

Cupcake (missing insides and eyes.)

Lily (flowers in eyes)

Blossom (skin ripped off face)

Rouge (ripped off tail and arms)

Diane (hung)

Hazel (plants growing out of body)

Starry (burn marks and eyes missing)

Izzy (exploded head)

Zippy (half of head missing.)

Swirl (mouth torn out)

Misty (heart missing and bloody eyes)

Poochi (eyes and mouth torn out)

Aqua (insides ripped out)

Nova (missing eyes)

Skye (legs missing)

Cosmo (face ripped out)

Nimona (survivor)

Zapp (missing arms)

Amber (burnt)

Celeste (broken apart)

Gloopy (survivor)

Aurora (missing eyes)

Petal (roots coming out mouth and eyes)

Maleficent (survivor)

Dory (survivor)

Smolder (horns and wings torn out)

Breezy (wings abd eyes torn out.)

Bella (wings and arms torn out)

Frost (torn open)

Pollen (nose and mouth skin gone)

Quartz (torn open)

Flour (survivor)

Clover (eyes hanging on roots)

Nova (eye area torn apart)

s’mores (survivor)

cocoa (survivor)

moon (face skin removed)

Scott (head trama/brain revealed)

Vress (tail ripped out)

Tuxie (eyes and teeth ripped out)

Screwball (half face gone)

Rattle (slit throat and missing tail)

Wallace (eyes missing)

Willow (covered in metal bars)

Mars (survived)

Sammy (survived)

Rosie (survived)

Dumbo (survived)

Eve (survived)

Molly (survived)

Glimmer (bottom half gone)

Ray (missing arms)

Nothing (survived)

Feather (survived)

Hover (survived)

Peppermint (missing legs)

Cozy (survived)

Fruity pebbles-flint (bloody eyes/cracked head)

Coco pebbles-pebbles (missing eyes)

Coco puffs-puffy (insane and bloody)

Crunch-calico (cracked open head)

Apple Jacks-applejack (missing eyes/carved smile mouth)

Corn flakes-chipper (beheaded)

Frosted Flakes-frosty (shot)

Lucky charms-charmy (cut open/drained of color)

Honey Nut Cheerios-honey (torn off wings and tail)

Hash brown-luke (skinned)

Pancake-fluffy (head cracked open and several cuts)

Waffles-cubic (missing arm,half tail is gone and head cracked open)

Coffee-decaf (missing eyes)

Frapeechino-Java ( torn open)

Poptart-fruity (half face gone)

Rice crispy treats-Maria (shot)

Glazed donut-glaze (gaping mouth)

Frosted donut-frosting (torn open)

PB and J sandwitch-jelly (half skin gone)

Ham and cheese sandwitch-Gouda (sliced head)

Blue Doritos-spices (holes all over body)

Doritos-spicy (burnt)

Lays-salter (face torn off)

Fritos-twirl (spine out of body)

Cheetos-tigress (torn out leg and bite marks)

Popcorn-butter (head trama/bloody head/body)

Grilled cheese-jaffle (melted eyes/bloody)

Fries-Louis (burnt)

White rice-grain (bite marks everywhere)

Corn dog-Apollo (torn open head)

Pudding-pudding (melted eyes/bloody)

Spagettios-raggy (head trans/bloody)

Mac n cheese-cheesy (boiled)

Spaghetti-noodle (hung)

Chicken-crispy (burnt)

Burger-Mac (torn open)

Chicken nuggets-Nuggies (survivor)

Quesadillas-Antonio (torn open/blood pouring out)

Pizza-ceesers (covered in holes)

Cheese pizza-cheddar (partially skinned)

Pineapple pizza-domino (survivor)

Pasta-pasta (partially skinned)

Hot dog-cinder (burnt)

Diet Coke/pepsi-cole (allergic reaction/stomach burst open)

Fanta-Fanta (covered in holes)

Root beer-float (torn open)

DR pepper-pepper (bloody head/covered in holes)

Beer-helga (torn open/cracked open head)

Hot chocolate-steamy (torn off hands and burnt)

Tea-melody (stabbed)

Milk-milky (survivor)

Sprite-sprite (stomach burst open)

Gatoraid-suprise (survivor)

Smores-cracker (melted eyes)

Cookies-chip (bite marks on body,holes all over body)

M&Ms-lulu (gapping mouth)

Skittles-rainbow (bleeding eyes,mouth and nose)

Chocolate ice cream-brownie (melted eyes)

Vanilla ice cream-cream (clear bleeding eyes)

Mint ice cream-minty (holes all over body)

Cookies and cream-reo (torn open)

Peanut butter and chocolate-luz (half skeleton)

Chocolate milk shake-yogurt (frostbite/bloody eyes)

Vanilla milk shake-vanilla (bloody)

Reese’s-Reese’s (head cracked open)

Milkyway-Carmel (organs hanging out.)

Milk duds-bean (cuts on body)

Jelly beans-chewy (bitten off skin,bloody eyes.)

Butterfingers-butterfinger (scratched)

100 grand-trixie (holes in skin/hanging organs)

Twix-twister (ripped off arms)

Swirl ice cream-Neapolitan (half skeleton)

Lava cake-magma (melted eyes and bleeding head)

Candy corn-candy (carved open)

Mint cookies-Lyra (head cracked open)

Swamp fever-petunia (flowers spurting out of eye)

Poison joke-indigo (survivor)

Imposter parasite-fungle (exposed mouth flesh)

Black tree virus-ivy (ripped out arms)

Mushroom infection-mushy (ripped apart face skin)

Metal virus-silver (survivor)

Immortal infliction-rarity (survivor)

Phantom ruby-infinite (survivor)

Cyberspace-sage (survivor)

Frankenstein-frank (torn off limbs)

Panther-Luna (survivor)

Lynx-Celia (survivor)

Caracal-susano (survivor)

Alien kitty-vee (survivor)

Tiny fluffy cat with tiny legs-squishy (legs removed.)

Siamese cat-sable (legs and eyes removed)

Munchkin kitty- munchie (arms and legs removed)

Trans kitty-belle (head cracked open)

Lesbian kitty-ruby (burnt)

Asexual kitty-violet (hung,eyes removed)

Aroace-Ari (run over,sliced open)

Bisexual-twilight (spine sticking out of back.)

Aromantic-matcha (head cracked open,one eye missing.)

Gay cat (blue)-pretzel (snapped off tail and broken leg)

Gay cat (rainbow) -pickle (missing eyes)

Genderfluid cat-cadence (sliced head and missing arms.)

Nonbinary cat-Bao (missing eyes.)

Poly cat-yuno (shot in the head,half head missing,chest is open)

Pansexual cat: pancake (tail and ears are torn off.)

Eevee shiny: Sophia (mouth skin is missing,tail is missing and half her hair is ripped out.)

Espeon: espurr (shot in the head,one tail is ripped out.)

Leafeon: leafy (vines are sprouting from eyes and tail is missing.)

Umbreon: umbra (survived)

Jolteon: bolt (ears are torn out,tail and hair were pulled out.)

Vaporeon: Ariel (tail and gills were ripped out)

Flareon: flare (burnt)

Glaceon: glacier (icicles impale the body.)

Sylveon: twinkle (survivor)

Ghost: obsidian (survivor

Rock: marble (arm and ear are broken off.)

Cloud: eclipse (survivor)

Fighting: bandana (deep scratches are where his bandannas once were,ripped out eyes.)

Poison:limestone (survivor)

Ground: peaches (arms and tail ripped off.)

Dragon:spiky (survivor)

Bug: flutter (antennas and wings ripped off.)

Steel: rocky (survivor)

Bonus: all the gangs kids also survived without a scratch thanks to there parents brave efforts..

-mod shelby

(Lemme join in on this, even tho we already know what happened

Beta - Victim, Got cuts all over his body

MB - Victim, Hung by a rope by his neck

Blue - Survivor(?), Has a tire mark on his body but is unfazed since he's already dead

Pico - Victim, Got shot multiple times

Girlfriend - Survivor, Has no injuries cuz- demon and was able to escape)

#mod speaks #tw death #tw blood #tw mutilation

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