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snailpaste · 10 days ago

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Shanks & Mihawk × Reader who gets Migraines

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Featuring: Mihawk & Shanks (separately), gender neutral reader, headcanons

AN: I suffer from hemiplegic migraine disorder which is NOT live, laugh, or love, so I wrote this. This shit isn't proof read or anything, i'm rawdogging it sorry. Just found this in my tumblr drafts dated December 12 last year and i've decided to post it before I forget it exists again. This has never & will never be beta'd or rereadso if it's clunky... c'est la vie😭

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MIHAWK

Though he doesn't personally suffer from migraines, he almost immediately knows how to help soothe you from the get go

He'll move you to a quiet, dark place, making sure to cut down on any stimulation that might make things worse for you. Closing the blinds, letting in some air through the windows.

He'll settle down next to you, letting you get as comfortable as possible before gently wrapping his arms around you and soothing his palms down your sides

He stays quiet for you, letting you wait it out with your head pillowed on his chest or buried under the soft blankets and rubbing his thumb against your own to ground you

If it helps you, he'll cup your temples gently to help reduce the pain, soothing his fingers through your hair and gently kissing your forehead

Mihawk can always tell when you're asleep, he can hear it in the way your breaths are slower, deeper, more relaxed. If you'd prefer him to stay with you, he'll pick up a book, turn his bedside lamp to the lowest setting, and read until you've woken up or feel better

If not, he'll slip from the room silently and finish any chores or work you may not have completed. He keeps a pot of tea and your favourite drink with some pills on the ready, and occasionally checks in on you

Always intent on making sure he can care for his lover, Mihawk reads up on ways he can help you further, or preventative measures

Mihawk is so in tune with his lover that he'll notice your triggers before you do. Maybe it's the light from your laptop, or the glare from the clouds, maybe it's the weather, stress, or too much caffeine. Whatever it is, he notices

He'll go out of his way to help negate your triggers- wether it's buying a screen cover or shades to help protect your eyes, adding decaffinated coffee to the shopping list, making sure you drink enough during the day or reducing as much stress in your life as possible

If you suffer from hemiplegic migraines, he was definitely worried the first time it happened. He had no clue what was going on- were you having a stroke? Was this some kind of sickness he'd brought back to the island from overseas? He didn't panick, knowing it'd only make things worse for you, but he stayed awake the entire night watching over you in his arms with a sick feeling in his chest

He needed a lot of reassurance that you were fine once you recovered - and still made the doctor he'd sent for check you over, just to be sure

SHANKS

Shanks had heard of migraines, but with no real experience with them, he only knew them as a "bad headache". That was, until he saw just how badly they effected you

The first you'd told him you thought you had a migraine coming on he'd pressed a kiss to your cheek and told you to go take a break. He wasn't expecting you to be gone for more than 30 minutes tops, so when you still hadn't come up deck after 45 minutes he started looking for you

He wasn't expecting to find you huddled up under your messy bedcovers, the curtains pulled shut and a pillow covering your ear to smother the jovial laughter and taunts from the crew above. His heart had clenched when, after closing the door behind him and calling your name out softly, you'd curled in on yourself even more

He'd slowly sat down on the bed and reached over to tilt your chin towards him. As soon as he did, he saw the way your brow was furrowed in pain, the way your eyes watered, and shifted over to wrap his arms around you and soothe his fingers across your eyes, frantically murmuring: What's wrong, darling? What's the matter? It's okay you can tell me baby. I know, I'm here love. I'm here.

The first time your more severe migraines occured, Shanks was genuinely scared. He'd lost too many people he loved already, he couldn't face losing you. If he cried into your neck that night after he'd made sure you were fine, nobody else would need to know.

After the first time and you explaining your symptoms, Shanks makes sure to do everything he can to make it easier for you. He makes sure that as soon as you feel any symptoms coming up, you go straight back to your shared cabin, no questions asked, and rest

The ship doctor, Hongo, hooks you up with some meds and makes a list of what to order at the next stop, lightly scolding you for not coming to him sooner

Despite his lack of knowledge on your type of migraines, Shanks's... extensive, history with hangovers has made him privvy to all the tips and tricks to help you out

He's clingy and doting at the best of times, and whenever you're feeling sick it's upped to the max. Expect him to take care of everything for you. Chores are off the table until you feel like a human being again, as are whatever jobs you're trying to overwork yourself on

He can leave you alone with regular check ups, or he can take the time off (at Beckman's expense) to take care of you. Massages? Snuggles? A bath? Cuddles on a quiet ship while the crew go off to stock up, being soothed to sleep by the gentle rocking of the ship and your lovers warm body pressed against you? Anything that works

#snailpaste: writing #one piece x gn reader #one piece x gender neutral reader #shanks x reader #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #red haired shanks x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

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Alright awesome, uh aHEM-

Y/N trying to comfort Theodore: “Listen man I’m really sorry about the divorce, you two really loved each other so it must’ve been really rough.. If you need any help or just want someone next to you then know I’ll be right here for you okay? And hey on the bright side, there are plenty of fish in the sea! I’m sure you’ll find your one and only eventually”

Meanwhile Theodore is internally flipping out cause: Oh my god the divorce was actually a blessing in disguise she’s finally gone and fuck I think I really love Y/N and they’re sitting here comforting me and touching me I want them so bad what do I do fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

Theodore never liked coffee. The bitterness clung to the roof of his mouth and caffeine gave him jitters til next week if he drank too much. With the kids and all his school work pilling up, he needed something to keep him awake and everything else he tried had no effect. He experimented with different creamers and sugars, and created the perfect mix to help it all go down. He figured it wouldn't be too much of a crime to ask his then girlfriend to pick up his drink of choice whenever she bought drinks for herself - only to be handed a black coffee everytime.

"Ta-da! One iced latte. They didn't have that toffee creamer you like so I raided your fridge. Once you're feeling better, we really need to get you out of this house, mister."

His blanket falls from his shoulders as he reaches out. "... thanks."

His voice was hoarse and scratchy; startling even him as it crawled from his throat. It sounded foreign to him, but that's exactly what that woman did. Somedays he couldn't look in the mirror without seeing a glimpse of the shy, awkward teen he used to be - and the stranger that person had because. He was a wreck. He hadn't slept. He only showered when he had to pick up the kids from their grandparents. He hadn't eaten anything in days... until you brought him food. Back in your highschool days you'd pay him with his favorite foods in favor of completing some project you forgotten about. While his tastes had changed a lot over the years, he gorged himself on everything you brought until he felt ill.

Theodore tears the lid of the cup and swallows the concoction, not stopping for a breath. Your hand flies to his back as he chokes. "Take it easy, Theo. Give me that."

You pry the cup from his hands as you sit beside him, weighting his palms against his lap until his shakes quiet. "It's going to be okay. You'll find someone when you're ready to look again and I'll always be here to support you."

You always have been. Years went when he forgot about his own birthday and it seemed like the entire world had to - and there you were, cake and a new book in hand. You were his rock through thick and thin; a vow he made with his ex. The guilty euphoria when people mistook you as his spouse instead of her. Beside what he did with his kids, Theodore had forgotten what it was like to enjoy another's company - reminded each time you came around. He couldn't make this about himself. He couldn't.

"The kids.... Erin's still so young. How am I going to tell them."

"Sometimes, a separated home is better than a dysfunction one. It won't be easy and they'll always come before anything, but right now you need to focus on yourself and what you want in life."

Your hands tighten around his. What does he want? He wants to go back to the night he took that cigarette from her. He wants to scream and hit his younger self for following her at that party. He wants to go back and stop the arrangement that kept his mind off the study partner that always came up with an excuse when it was time to hit the books, but there when he needed them most. He wants to tell them how they made him feel. He still does. He wants to love you - and now he finally.... finally can.

"Hold me.... Please, I just want...you to hold me."

His glasses fog up. You wipe the tears from behind his lenses as your arms envelope him. Eyes misty, all he feels is the pull of your warm embrace and he breaks. Theodore wraps the blanket around you and centers his hearing on the steady beat in your chest. It's the most beautiful thing in the world. If he has that to listen to every night, he won't need caffeine - or anything else for that matter. All he needed was you. All he ever needed was you.

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere x you #yandere fluff #Theodore my oc #soft yandere

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seasidewanderers · 3 months ago

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How Did I Even Get Here? Or As I Like To Call It, How I Became Syscourse Informed

I've been meaning to make this post for a while. I've been in syscourse for years now, more precisely from I think it was 2019. So for those curious of how even does one get into syscourse... Here's all the lore and backstory.

I'll put it under a cut. Read with extreme caution if you choose to, it's... gonna get ugly in here

Warnings: long ass post; talking about trauma, drug and alcohol abuse, self harm/suicide, psychosis

I had just started university and everything was going to shit. Yeah, I like cold opens alright. You should read my stories. A-hem. I had just started university. I was struggling to make friends - I never had friends before university - I had just shaved all of my hair off. New beginning and all that. My grades in high school weren't stellar but I was managing, while in uni it went all down the drain within the first month.

Living alone meant I could be doing everything I could ever dream of! Getting blackout drunk almost every night. I was buying a bottle of gin and a pack of Monster Ultra White cans to mix in my personal gin and Monster tonic every other day. I was an already psychotic teenager fighting regular psychosis with alcohol induced psychosis, having so many nightmares I was consuming the equivalent of 15-20 espressos a day just to stay awake. The only times I managed to get more than 3 hours of sleep I was near comatose. I wish I was misusing the word.

I was near constantly actively delusional.

(I've talked about it once or twice in here in the context of delusions related to trauma and DID, my most prominent delusion is related to survivor's guilt and early infancy medical trauma. I still get episodes, though now it's more chronic bizarre thoughts and sporadic psychotic depression)

In a year, I left my dormitory room to be with other people in the dormitory exactly once.

I also got to know a guy who turned out to be a drug dealer. I mean, a really nice guy otherwise. He never got me on hard drugs (it was his personal policy to not start someone who has never done hard drugs on hard drugs, and I had mad respect for that lad); he did otherwise just give me stuff if I asked for it. Mainly it was sleeping pills.

I was minding my business with a mix of alcohol, tranquillisers and caffeine up until a point where I took a little too much, fell asleep in class, and couldn't wake up no matter how much my friend was trying to get me awake. I got rushed to the ER and now I'm banned from taking sleeping pills again. Somehow my liver is intact though! Yay

So... what does it have to do with syscourse, you might ask. And you'd be absolutely right to ask.

Nothing and everything. I discovered my system eventually in university. I started noticing that even when I was not drinking, I wouldn't remember shit anyway (which only made me drink more, if I'm not to remember anything, why bother staying sober?)

I then started noticing that I didn't remember anything. About anything. My childhood is a blank. Middle and high school is so fragmented I have no idea what happened, and the few memories I have I'd rather forget.

So what does a 19-20 years old with no friends, almost always drunk, lots of the time high as a kite, forgetful and incredibly depressed, do with their free time?

Tumblr. I started out with looking up people who were talking about ADHD, thinking my forgetfulness was poor attention; then nothing really clicked, so I moved on to mood disorders spaces, thinking it was just depression; then again, yes I do have depression, it's been terrible for many years now, but stable enough, so the sudden heightening of forgetting and not being "really there" didn't really make sense to my depression.

By the end of the school year in June by means that I don't fully remember, I landed in system spaces. First just people talking about being plural, then I discovered the pit full of burning acid that is syscourse.

It actually wasn't so bad for me at first, but I was having a nice time online because I was just following that handful of blogs that I liked, and also I wasn't active in syscourse, just lurking around like a bog creature.

When I started expanding my niche of syscourse blogs, it was... something for sure though. I didn't understand why people were fighting. I didn't understand why everyone is so awful all the time. I get that spaces filled with trauma survivors are bound to get emotionally charged, and as the old adage goes, hurt people hurt people. I get that rationally, I get the anger, sadness, and grief, but I wouldn't imagine taking my frustration out on a passerby who's not the cause of my trauma. I don't get being mean on purpose.

At some point a few years ago I stumbled upon @sysmedsaresexist and @thecircularsystem (or rather, circulars-reasoning and circular-bircular)

If I remember correctly, they were both anti endo when I got to their blogs, and I was very pro endo. I didn't, and still don't, have any reason not to be.

I started reading everything they were putting out. Every little link and file they shared got under a microscope by my part.

Part of it was just paranoia - I know they're saying something terrible. There has to be something in there that says endos are all murderers or something and I'll be in so, so much trouble for being pro endo.

Part of it was just curiosity - what do they have to say? Let me take a look at that.

And then... There was absolutely nothing that made me believe they hated me specifically (more broadly, nothing in their resources that disproved the existence of endogenic plurality, but at the time that to me was equal to "if you're pro endo I hate your face and I'll be stabbing you in a dark alley first chance I get")

And... I loosened up a bit. I still didn't properly talk to them until this year, after SAS' Changing Mindsets post, and I can say I regret not reaching out sooner. I kept reading everything they were putting out, laughing at memes, and asked lots of questions. I tried going at it with more and more curiosity and less and less fear of stepping out of an imagined line.

It didn't always go well. I am very paranoid and it takes very little for me to retract into my shell like a turtle. But! I made a lot of progress with that, too. I also learned that a) I don't have to immediately respond to asks, comments, etc out of impulse or anger, I can actually take my time! and b) I don't have to reply at all if I don't want to!!! How great is that!!!!!

I don't know why people keep saying that you can't be friends with pro/antis. That's what I needed to do! I needed to get the fuck out of my own head, get to know other people, talk to them, see where they're coming from.

Though I wouldn't say I'm friends with them exactly, simply because friend to me has a specific connotation, but they are nice people who I love talking to. Who'd have thought the Scary Anti Endo could be *reads notes* a person with their own interests and hobbies?? Oh SHIT this is NEW.

Enough talking about my background, over to the thanks, like it's my wedding day and y'all are my best men.

Circ, Dude (and all other SAS mods, though I know half of you half as much as I would like), thank you. You've done a lot for me even if you didn't know who the fuck I was until two or three months ago. You threw some PDFs and links over to my general direction and, man, I needed that.

I've been very bad. And then I've been slightly better, and then very bad again, and I'm better again. This time I don't plan on going very bad again though. I hope I can get better every day.

#sysconversation #syscourse

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zombiewhor3 · 8 months ago

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RESTLESS CONFESSIONS

fem reader x steve harrington

WARNINGS: reader has insomnia, mentions of demodogs (RIP bob) literally just pure fluff!

she had gotten a job during the summer at the Scoops-ahoy shop located just next to a clothing shop in the Hawkins Mall, Not because she wanted the teenage experience of working an ice cream job but instead she needed money to keep up with fixing her car, and well she hadn't wanted to let her best friend down.

to which now it was her first month into it and already she thought that maybe the idea of working in an icecream shop was the worst idea Steve Harrington had ever convinced her into doing.

because not only did she have to wear a hat that made her look like a fool, and say some stupid line over and over again she dealt with the sound of loud teens and children all day.

the cold freezers that had almost taken her life multiple times from their shitty locks, and the miserable washing of dirty and sticky dishes left behind from customers.

but the best part about it was she worked along side her friends and she got paid to basically scoop ice cream and retort cheesy pirate lines to each of the customers who came and went.

"hey dingus! can you get a barrel of vanilla from the freezer" she could hear robin yell from the back of the shop as she leaned against the front counter with a cash register in front of her.

the shop had been dead because it was only nine in the morning and not many people wanted ice cream at an hour like this. Even if the hot summer air of Hawkins was buzzing about them.

the hot air that had melted y/n on her way to work because she still couldn't afford to fix her air conditioner in her car that had broken many months ago.

since no one was in the shop or merely even passing by the shop she stepped away into the back to see Steve in the freezer.

he was burying himself while trying to keep the door open so he hadn't locked himself inside the freezer again, if it weren't for y/n and robin he would've accidentally killed himself.

he would've froze to death and been one with the ice cream

she held open the metal door for him so his foot could fully step into the freezer and grab a fresh barrel of vanilla because when they closed last night they forgot to replace it.

y/n yawned a little and closed the freezer door behind steve before she followed him out into the front of the store where he took the empty barrel from the cooler and placed the new one in.

"you get any sleep last night?" he asked and watched as she shook her head and tossed away the empty ice cream bucket.

"why not you've barely been sleeping these past few days, everything alright with you doll?" he could see the way she shrugged it off before finally responding when he gave her the look.

"just insomnia you know the usual of not being able to sleep" she pushed it away from her mind before taking a rag and wiping down the outside glass to the cooler to try and ignore his questions.

"you try those sleeping pills yet?" he watched her roll eyes and continue to wipe over the glass to which he knocked from the other side to get her attention so that she’d just look at him.

“i tried a few, but nothing works it just makes me feel like it’s impossible to get some sleep even just an hour or two”

she figured the issue would probably resolve itself or atleast she hoped it would, ever since the demo-dogs and the upside down came into her life she had acquired the unwanted insomnia.

not that she had nightmares but it was just like she could never could god damn sleep no matter what sleeping pills or meditation she tried, she even tried drinking so much caffeine to try and reverse it but instead it had caused her to stay up for two days straight.

nothing ever had seemed to work for her, well the only time she had ever gotten a full 8 hours of sleep after she grew her insomnia was the night with steve.

when he had spent the night at her place because he was absolutely blasted drunk and it was safer than having him drive home, maybe it was just because she felt safe knowing he was safe.

she was exhausted and she was waiting for each and every minute of her shift to go by so she could get some shut eye.

or atleast try to.

“y/n why am i here, it’s 11 at night? besides you should be getting some sleep for tomorrows opening shift” Steve asked as he slipped off his coat and left it on her couch.

she was standing there in her pajamas giving him a shrug because she didn’t want to admit it, she only had him there for the comfort and well when the sleeping pills didn't work he had become the last resort for her to get some sleep.

“talk sweetheart, you don't have to get shy with me"

“i need you to help me fall asleep, i just can’t no matter what i try to do” she finally spilt out and watched as he smiled a little at her.

“of course on the couch or your room, i can sleep on the floor with maybe a couch cushion or two?” he spoke and watched her shake her head as he followed her into the bedroom.

“sleep on the bed, my best friend doesn’t deserve to sleep on the floor or on my couch besides we don't need your back hurting for tomorrows shift” she huffed at him and slid in the bed,

she watched him slip off his shoes along with his socks.

he pulled off his sweater and was left in an undershirt, he undid his belt for a little more comfort and stripped away his socks.

he slid in next to her and laid straight flat on his back and stared up at her ceiling, she had a lamp on steve’s side,

“can you turn the light out please?” she asked and watched his hand reach over to pull the string that connected to the light bulbs switch.

“anything for my girl” he remarked and now it was dark in her room but he still laid in the same awkward position as he did.

“i’m sorry if this takes a while insomnia can’t be cured by having a you in my bed Harrington" she retorted playfully and felt the awkward feeling of his body shifting in the bed.

he could feel her toss and turn every few minutes and he started to feel a little ache in his heart knowing she couldn't sleep.

his hand rubbed her back a little and he felt her body slightly relax a little into the gentle touch of his palm.

"maybe i'm just the magic you need"

they had been going at this for a week now, steve sleeping over at her place, trying different techniques to make her sleepy.

reading books, breathing exercises, lavender bath salts, a warm shower and even trying to sleep on the couch it was all just somehow useless to get her to fall asleep.

she looked over at him on the cushion next to her with a soft frown,

"i'm sorry i made you go through this, i figured maybe having a friend over would help me cure it" she admitted and watched him shake his head a little at her before he stood up.

"i'm gonna find a way to get you to sleep y/n, you need your rest especially if you're gonna work shifts from six in the morning until all the way til closing time" he set down the mug of tea he had and gestured for her to take his hand.

to which of course she did, with a furrow of her brow as he pulled her out of the house and into his car, she buckled her seat belt and looked at him with a soft sigh.

"we already tried a car ride stevey, its not gonna work besides its just gonna be a waste of your gas" she frowned and watched him start up the car and without even saying a word until they had reached the main roads.

"yes but you've never tried it at night, besides if it works than it'll be a miracle if not i'll stop and buy us some snacks and a movie"

she smiled at his response and started to gaze out the window at how he was taking an unusual path, he was now driving on a dirt road and until he stopped at a blank spot.

just where there were only a few trees that shot up from the ground and they could see the sky so perfectly and clearly.

"stars is your solution?" she asked and bit down on her lip a little as they both had gotten out of the car to take a look above her.

"you're obsessed with them, you always complain about the light pollution especially from the mall, so maybe this will help"

without even another word she wrapped her arms around him, even if she couldn't sleep she could feel her heart pounding out of her chest from how much her love grew for him.

he popped open the back of his car and sprawled out a few blankets and pillows for her, he had a blanket and pillow tucked in his arm for himself and it made her tilt her head.

"can you sleep back here with me? just in case a snake or maybe a bug crawls in here?" she gave him the look, the one he couldn't resist and it always made him say yes to her.

as he laid back beside her he let out a little sigh before he began to talk, "you know i read about light therapy for getting people to fall asleep, most of the time the colors can help calm the brain"

"okay dr. harrington" she retorted back with a chuckle watching a shooting star fly across the sky and the only thing she could wish for was that harrington got her a full nights worth of sleep.

she closed her eyes for a second before wrapping herself up in the blanket that her and harrington were now sharing, embracing in the heat of his body she could feel the gentle feeling of a kiss he had placed a top of her forehead.

waking up with a soft breath she turned to look at her surroundings back in her living room wrapped in a blanket with the smell of something coming from the kitchen,

steve still wearing his mustard sweater and a pair of striped boxers had a pan in his hand cooking a pancake as the coffee brewed.

checking the time y/n cursed aloud it was past their shift time, by the time they got into work they'd be an hour or two late. "steve we're late for work, robin's gonna kill us!" she cried out and watched him chuckle a little.

"we have the day off i called robin, besides new hires are coming in today anyways" he could see the relief flush over her and she folded her arms with a little smile across her face.

"how'd you do it? how'd you get me to sleep a full 8 hours steve?'' she asked and looked at him, setting the pan down and rubbing over the side of her cheek he kissed the top of her forehead.

"this was just the magic you needed"

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things 4 #steve stranger things #smut steve #steve x reader #steve harrington #nancy stranger things #stranger things robin #robin buckley

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megalony · 2 years ago

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Look at us- Part 7

sHere is the next part of my new Henry Cavill series, thank you all for the lovely feedback so far, I hope everyone is enjoying it so far.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @dreaming-about-fanfictions @afro-hispwriter

Series taglist: @kingliam2019 @slytherinlyn314

Masterlist

Summary: After losing a baby a few months ago, (Y/n) is still suffering horrible back pains that she needs strong painkillers to manage. But she has to be okay and in control to look after her family and she knows she is relying too much on pills to gain back her life and control.

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) didn't like this.

The room felt like it was on fire, the heat surrounding her was scolding and even when she breathed, she could feel heat radiating around her like she was sitting in the centre of the Earth.

She didn't know what time it was, she felt like she had been sleeping for hours and hours but the bright lights in the room made (Y/n) doubt whether it was late at night or not. This wasn't where she remembered she had been when she arrived. (Y/n) was ninety percent sure she had been down in A&E for quite a while, but this looked more like a room on a ward than the emergency room cubicles she had frequented often.

It took a few moments to realise she had an oxygen mask strapped to her nose and mouth, but as soon as (Y/n) realised what it was, her tired, groggy hands were moving to rip it away. She wasn't keeping that on when it was making her feel like she was suffocating.

A wave of sickness washed over (Y/n) when she tried to sit up but she did her best to ignore the feeling. Where was Henry? Was he with the kids, were they all okay?

She wanted to go home.

Draining the dregs from his coffee, Henry threw the cup in the bin and put his phone back in his pocket when he reached (Y/n)'s hospital room. The hospital food and drink was never anything Henry would have unless he was desperate and with it being nearly six in the morning, he needed some source of caffeine to keep him awake.

It had taken until eleven o'clock last night for (Y/n) to finally get the MRI she needed- which Henry had argued with a nurse about because they wouldn't put her on a ward until she had it meaning she had to stay sedated in A&E until they finally moved her.

It was past midnight by the time she was settled on a ward so Henry got a few hours of sleep after that before he decided to give up and just stay awake and wait until (Y/n) woke up.

Surprise flooded his face when he walked in the room and saw (Y/n) trying to sit up. Since she had been sedated earlier in the afternoon, she hadn't woken up. She'd stirred and mumbled a few times but other than that Henry had been watching her sleep and ringing his mum every few hours to check the kids were all alright. Mainly Jesse, he didn't settle well if he didn't have either (Y/n) or Henry with him and Henry knew Jesse hadn't slept last night without one of them being there.

"Hey baby, how do you feel?"

Henry sat back down in the armchair next to the bed and pulled it closer so he could reach (Y/n) but he found his smile dropping when he realised she looked panicked. the oxygen mask was hanging on the edge of the bed and she had thrown the cover away to try and move her legs off the bed but she seemed too groggy to get very far.

When (Y/n) reached for the IV on her hand, Henry was quick to grab her hands and pull them to his chest. He was going to have a struggle ahead of him.

"No, no baby you need that. Take a few deep breaths, calm down for me."

"Home... t-take me home."

A wave of sickness plundered through (Y/n)'s chest and made her throat tighten until breathing became hard. She rested her forehead against the back of Henry's hand which was surprisingly cold and soothing against her burning skin. She wanted to go home and lay in her own bed and have the kids with them and Henry's arms around her. This wasn't home, this was foreign and held horrid memories and (Y/n) didn't want to be here.

Sighing to himself, Henry kissed the back of (Y/n)'s head and leaned his cheek against her hair for a few moments. He didn't want to upset her and have her panic or get distressed but he couldn't lie or even dare to take her home right now. It wasn't an option.

"I can't take you home just yet, sweetheart. You're not well."

(Y/n) stayed laying on her side but pulled back so she could rest her head on the pillow and look up at Henry who leaned over to be as close as he could get.

"What time is it?"

"About six in the morning, you've been out for nearly twelve hours."

"What happened?" (Y/n) really dreaded asknig because she wasn't sure if she wanted the answer or not. She remembered being in horrid pain yesterday and then being sick, and flashes of memories of being in A&E came to mind, but that was it. She couldn't remember what she had said or what anyone had said to her last night, it felt as if her mind was clogged with water but then again that might be whatever medication they had put her on.

"You crushed some tramadol tablets yesterday, it made you overdose but they put some narcotics in your IV and kept you on oxygen and it's flushed you out. You had an MRI last night too, one of the vertebrae in your spine has come out of place, that's why you're in so much pain."

Henry had been surprised, relieved and infuriated all at once when the doctor came to talk to him after the MRI.

One of the bones in (Y/n)'s spine had come out of place and was pushing down on her spinal nerves which was causing her drastic pain levels. If she had been examined months ago and had scans before now it could have been sorted out with physio and some medication. But with how long it had taken, they needed to do surgery now to fix the issue.

(Y/n) had been kept in agony all this time because the GP couldn't be bothered to do his job and examine her or take her pain seriously. She had to overdose on medication to be taken seriously and examined. It was ridiculous and it made Henry's blood boil that this had to happen. (Y/n) could have been seriously worse off and something could have happened with the baby because she was neglected.

"S-so what do they do?"

She didn't mean to. (Y/n) didn't want to overdose. She couldn't remember taking the tablets but she knew for certain that she would never want to overdose even if her pain had been extreme. She had the kids to think about, she couldn't risk her health and make things worse for the kids by overdosing.

But it was a relief to have a reason behind her pain. It wasn't a figment of her imagination or something drawn from the grief of losing Lilah. This could have happened even if Lilah was carried to full-term and born healthy. It was a big weight from (Y/n)'s shoulders to know she didn't have to blame her grief for the pain she was feeling.

Henry held (Y/n)'s hands a little bit tighter and pressed them to his lips while he debated what to do.

If he told her how they had to fix the problem, he knew what would happen.

(Y/n) was going to try and leave or have a panic attack and want to go home and Henry would have to calm her down and make sure she didn't try and slip out the hospital.

And if he told her she was pregnant, it would make things a whole lot worse. He didn't know what her initial reaction was going to be, she might faint, she could go into a severe panic attack or break down or go into denial. But he knew for certain that she wouldn't want the operation to fix her back if she knew she was pregnant.

"The doctor said that since painkillers and rest haven't made it better, he needs to operate."

"No, Henry-"

"Sweetheart, please hear me out. You can't carry on like this, it won't get better without surgery. He said they need to take out a disc in your spine to relieve the pressure and fuse two vertebre together so it doesn't happen again and it will keep your spine strong. You need this operation."

Decompression surgery was what (Y/n) had to have and it was the next resort when painkillers and rest didn't work.

Doctor Warren had told Henry late last night that he couldn't put (Y/n) on painkillers with how she had been addicted to tramadol and wound up here. They should have helped but her vertebre wasn't going back into place on its own and the only way to fix it was surgery. They needed to take the pressure off her nerves and fuse the bones together so they wouldn't push out of place again and cause a repeat problem.

Henry couldn't let (Y/n) go home and not have the surgery because she was afraid. He understood her fears, (Y/n) hated operations and hospitals were plagued with Lilah's horrid birth and death.

But at the same time, Henry couldn't take (Y/n) home and go back to seeing her crippled with pain. It affected every part of her daily routine and her quality of life and it needed to change. Surgery was the better option than crippling pain and having to sleep in the armchair and be carried up and down the stairs. There was no choice to make, she needed this operation.

"No, Henry that's big surgery, I don't want to be here." A sob burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and her eyes welled with tears.

Surgery would make her more at risk for blood clots than she already was and the recovery time could be massive. (Y/n) was a mum, she couldn't be laid up in bed when she had the kids to feed and wash and take to school and Jesse couldn't be left alone even when he was playing in case he choked on a toy he tried to eat.

A cry passed (Y/n)'s lips before she sat up and grabbed at the back of her left hand where the IV tube was.

"No- sweetheart don't do that- if you take that out I'll call for the nurse I mean it." There was a warning tone in Henry's stern voice but (Y/n) couldn't force herself to take heed of what he was saying.

The small wire was pulled from her vein before Henry could stop her and it made a deep growl emminate from the back of his throat.

He scrunched up the bedsheet and pressed it against (Y/n)'s hand when blood started spurting out of her hand like a tap and he pressed the emergency button at the back of the bed. The IV was giving her fluids since she hadn't eaten or drank anything in over twenty four hours and it was giving her painkillers straight into her blood to keep the pain away in her back.

"She's taken her IV out."

Henry locked eyes with the young nurse he had seen do a few hourly checks on (Y/n) through the early morning.

Moving round, Henry gently sat (Y/n) up and sat down on the bed behind her with his arms around her chest. He pulled her to lay back into him and he held her good hand to her chest when the nurse took her blood-covered hand to fix it up.

(Y/n) didn't have the willpower to fight the nurse, and she couldn't do much when Henry was binding her to his chest with both his arms across her chest like barriers preventing her from moving. The nurse managed to get the tube straight back into the same vein and she wrapped a long bandage around her hand and up her wrist so she couldn't try and do it again without a lot of effort.

"Doctor said they're going to do the operation this morning so the anaesthesiologist is ready to come and prepare you for surgery. Is now a good time?"

"Sweetheart," Henry looked down at (Y/n) but all she did was curl up in his arms like she was trying to disappear. He knew she wasn't going to disagree because deep down, (Y/n) knew she couldn't carry on with this pain. They had been praying for a solution and this was it. "Now's fine."

"I'll go let them know."

When she was out the room, (Y/n) tilted her head to look behind her up at Henry. "I can't be stuck in bed for weeks to recover from spine surgery, I need to be up and able to look after the kids, you're on press tours soon."

"The doctor said you will be up and walking within a few days of surgery and I don't have to attend all of the tours. We can't afford not to have this surgery when you were keeled over in agony."

Silence enveloped them for a few minutes until Doctor Warren and an older lady they figured was the anaesthesiologist came into the room.

"How are you feeling, (Y/n)? It's nice to see you awake finally." The doctor stood towards the end of the bed and he looked vaguely familiar to (Y/n) but she didn't want to talk. If this needed to happen she wanted it all out the way and erased from her memory.

"Drowsy,"

"That's expected. Now, your scans showed one vertebre is very out of place but the surgery is quite simple. We will take out the disc below to make some room for your nerves so they aren't crushed, and then we will fuse the bad vertebre with the one below so it stays in place. The surgery shouldn't take more than two hours and you will be up and walking hopefully two days after surgery."

"What about recovery?" (Y/n) had to have a speedy recovery, she didn't do well on bed rest and she couldn't do that when they had three kids at home to care for. Henry couldn't do everything.

The kids needed taking to school, dinners cooked, the house clean and tidy. Jesse needed supervision, help being bathed, fed, and he liked being constantly active and entertained. He wouldn't sit in bed with (Y/n) for hours unless it was late at night.

"You can go home a few days after surgery and being active will help you recover. Just no heavy lifting and you need to take things slow and easy for about four weeks. With your risk of blood clots, you shouldn't be on bed rest you need to keep moving around little and often. It's a light surgery so recovery won't be too strenuous. And with-"

The look Henry suddenly gave the doctor made him hold his breath and clear his throat before he smiled.

Henry hadn't said anything about the baby yet, he couldn't risk distressing (Y/n) right now.

(Y/n) nodded, it didn't sound too bad. she was supposed to keep active and moving which would work well around the kids and if she could go home within a few days of surgery that was even better. She didn't want to be on bed rest it would only made her irritable and she couldn't handle people fussing and having to do things for her.

"Okay, if you have no questions I'll leave you with doctor Hastings to get prepped."

Why did it have to be now?

Couldn't (Y/n) have a little more time to prepare herself and try and build herself up to doing this? But then again, more time would only serve to make her more anxious and she would be more likely to want to leave and chicken out.

Operations weren't something (Y/n) liked. Anaesthesia never agreed with her and she always ended up feeling rough when she came out of it and it served to make her sick. There was always that worry as well that she might not wake up from the deep sleep it put her in or that something might go wrong. That was (Y/n)'s biggest worry, that a complication would happen and something would go wrong. And the thought of everything going black and her mind shutting down made her feel sick just to think about how deep her mind would sink.

"Okay, do you have any allergies?" Doctor Hastings was a slightly older woman whose attention was focusing on the clipboard in her hands.

"Penicillin." (Y/n) mumbled quietly before she turned her head to brush her face against Henry's bare arm and press a kiss against his skin.

(Y/n) found out the hard way she was allergic to penecillin. After getting an infection just after Brodie was born, she was given the antibiotic through her IV and Henry had almost fainted when (Y/n) suddenly went blue in the face and couldn't breathe. It had been one of the scariest things to happen to her, to suddenly become breathless and feel like her lungs were pierced and popped like balloons.

"Noted. Have you ever had a bad reaction to any anaesthesia before?"

"No," (Y/n) didn't like it but she'd never reacted badly to it, she was told feeling groggy and sick when waking from an operation was fairly normal.

"Hm, well you haven't eaten anything yet which is good, and yesterday's blood results look good. We'll take some more now just to be safe, then I think we should be fine to get you put under and sent up to theatre."

Oh God, she was really going for spinal surgery soon. It was happening, they were going to send her into the blackest, numbest, worst part of her mind for hours and just hope she would come back out unscathed.

A tremor shuddered through (Y/n)'s nerves and tingled in her blood when the doctor advanced towards her with a needle the size of her finger and two viles she got from a side drawer. (Y/n) didn't want her blood to be taken, she just said they took some yesterday which must have happened whilst she had been asleep. Shouldn't that be fine? Didn't they take enough when she was asleep?

Henry gently hummed against the top of (Y/n)'s head and brushed his hand up and down the side of her waist with his other hand holding her free hand to try and calm her down. He watched the doctor with a glare in his eye when she roughly grabbed (Y/n)'s wrist and yanked her arm out, shaking the limb until (Y/n) realised she needed to lock her elbow and keep her arm straight.

A whimper escaped her lips when the needle pushed up into the crease of her elbow and she shut her eyes tight, shrinking further into Henry's chest wishing she could disappear. Two little viles of blood seemed to take a lifetime to fill and (Y/n) felt lightheaded when the needle finally left her skin.

"Can you get off the bed please?" Her impatient eyes looked at Henry who sent a glare burning back her way but he complied either way.

With a kiss to the top of (Y/n)'s head, Henry slowly slid off the side of the bed and stood up, straightening out his back but he kept tight hold of (Y/n)'s hand.

"(Y/n), you need to lay down on your back." The doctor removed the pillows and threw them in the corner of the room before she busied herself searching below the bed for something. She fiddled around with the oxygen machine attached to the base of the bed and stood up with a tube in her hand which made (Y/n) shrink in on herself. She had seen them before, it was a tube that went down her throat to make sure she kept breathing and it pinned her tongue to the bottom of her mouth so she wasn't at risk of choking during the procedure.

(Y/n) prayed they wouldn't leave that in her throat when she woke up, it felt horrifying to wake up and choke on a tube that went right into her lungs. Usually they took it out and left her with an oxygen mask which was less frightening for someone coming out of a deep slumber.

"I feel sick," (Y/n) mumbled quietly, shrinking closer to her left towards Henry and away from the woman towering over her who looked more menacing by the second.

"You're fine, now lay down."

Shaking her head, (Y/n) felt a tear track down her cheek before she turned over and leaned over the bed, feeling her stomach churning. Henry was quick to grab the cardboard sick bucket, holding it in front of (Y/n) just as some water spewed from her lips. She hadn't eaten since dinnertime yesterday so she had nothing but a little water to throw up but it still burned the back of her throat nevertheless.

"You're gonna be fine, sweetheart, just lay down and when you wake up, you'll find me right here." Henry kneeled down and folded his arms on the edge of the bed, brushing a whisp of hair behind (Y/n)'s ear before he gently folded her hair up into the cap the doctor handed over to him.

He kissed (Y/n)'s temple, wishing her worries away before he helped her to lay down on her back. But (Y/n) continued to shake her head at him, unable to stop the tears from falling down her face or the murmurs from bubbling past her lips. Why couldn't she just fast forward time and skip to where she was awake and everything was fine and done with?

"Breathe this in deeply and you'll be asleep."

A gasp escaped (Y/n)'s lips when a mask was suddenly thrust over her mouth and bashed forcefully into the side of her nose. The action was so sudden and unexpected that she let out a scream and swatted at the hand trying to smother her. Last time they gave her an injection of anaesthetic to send her to sleep because she told them she didn't like the feel of the mask over her mouth.

Moving her head, (Y/n) shuddered and coiled her head down towards her chest with her arms over her face. She didn't want to do this, she didn't want to be knocked out and wake up with a stiff back that was going to take weeks to heal. But she didn't want to be in constant agony either.

"Right, I'll go and get some nurses to restrain her."

"No you fucking won't."

Henry's instant response was barked back at the woman with venom in his tone. His hands clenched at his sides like he was gearing up for a fight and his upper lip curled in disgust when the doctor huffed and frowned at him like he was wasting her time.

"If she's going to fight then I want her restrained."

She spoke as if she was talking about some sort of criminal or as if she didn't realise she was talking very rudely about Henry's wife. She clearly didn't realise how deeply his love for her ran through his veins and made his heart beat rapidly in his chest. No one was going to restrain her while he was around, no one was going to lay a hand on his wife. She was petrified and rightfully so, she didn't like hospitals or procedures and that was okay, she needed to be calmed down and treated like a human being with respect, not cruelty.

"You just try and I won't be responsible for my actions, I don't want you or anyone else laying a hand on my wife." Henry pointed his finger at the woman, just daring her to go ahead and see what he would do if she even attempted to restrain (Y/n). "Give me the mask. I'll calm her down and do it."

Reaching out his hand, Henry waited impatiently and snatched the face mask away from the woman before he bent his knees and crouched down beside (Y/n).

"Sweetheart, I'm here and I'll still be here when you open your eyes. Just take a few really deep breaths of this stuff and as soon as you know it, you'll be looking at me again, I promise. Do it for me, baby."

Henry slowly raked his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s neck and shoulder, slowly and sensually making patterns into her skin. He waited patiently until (Y/n) nodded and let him carefully place the mask over her mouth and nose. He took a deep breath, encouraging (Y/n) to copy him while his hand pressed to the back of her neck and his thumb brushed up and down her chin.

"Good girl," He kept the mask over her lips for a few extra seconds after she went limp before he stood up and handed it back over to the woman he now despised with good reason.

His arms folded over his chest and his foot started to tap anxiously against the floor whilst he watched the doctor open (Y/n)'s mouth and carefully insert the oxygen tube. She made sure it was taped in place before she moved (Y/n) to lay on her left side, ready for when they got her into theatre.

Thank you," She mumbled quietly, clipboard in hand as she turned around, about to go and get someone to transport (Y/n) to the theatre.

"Don't talk to my wife like that again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There look, mama's waking up." Turning his head, Henry gently bounced Jesse on his hip as he walked into the singular room, a smile on his lips when he looked over at (Y/n). He didn't know what was running through Jesse's head or if he had any understanding of where he was or what was going on but he guessed Jesse didn't know since he was very calm.

Henry couldn't leave him with his mother any longer, he was throwing tantrums, screaming, crying and launching toys everywhere. It was unsettling for him to be away from both parents for more than a day and even Brodie couldn't calm him down from his tantrums. So Henry went down while (Y/n) was in surgery and checked on the kids and decided to bring Jesse back to the hospital with him.

He knew Jesse wouldn't be too unsettled because he would be in a room with Henry waiting for (Y/n) to wake up so he would generally be rather at ease. He had a stuffed dog toy in his arms and a chew toy hanging on string around his neck and a beaker of juice on standby.

"Mama, mama. Mama." A few mushed up sounds followed but a smile worked its way onto Jesse's lips as Henry sat down on the seat next to the bed and put Jesse on his lap.

He had taken to pace up and down the corridor when (Y/n) finally woke up so doctor Warren could assess her and make sure she was okay and not in any pain and no paralysis.

"Hi, baby." (Y/n)'s voice was hoarse and her throat felt like it had been butchered from the oxygen tube but she still smiled at her little boy who was smiling back with a streak of drool hanging from his lower lip. His brown curls flopped about his head and sitting there on Henry's knee, he looked like the younger version of his dad.

"You feeling alright?" Henry gently leaned over and sat Jesse down on the floor so he could play and Henry could move a bit closer to (Y/n) and take hold of her hand.

"Rough."

"Hm, I'm not surprised," A small tight-lipped smile worked its way onto Henry's face and he looked down at their entwined hands for a few seconds. "So, I have to talk to you about something but if you're not feeling great or you just want to sleep, it can wait."

"What's wrong?" (Y/n) leaned up a bit straighter against the many pillows she had been given to ease her back. Her hand reached out and brushed against his cleanly shaven jaw as worry flooded her eyes.

He didn't look panicked or upset or like something had just happened or gone drastically wrong which eased a few nerves in (Y/n)'s stomach. But the way he worded that and his tone of voice set something off inside of her. What did he want to talk about? Was it the kids, had something happened while they had been here in hospital? Had something happened during her operation that the doctor didn't tell her about?

"You were having bad stomach pains yesterday when we arrived so the doctor did an examination and a scan to check you over."

"Baby you're worrying me,"

"You're pregnant."

Henry had never seen so many emotions wash over her face in such a little amount of time. He had never witnessed her eyes flash with horror, confusion, love, joy and terror like that before. Her eyes seemed to light up and then dim completely. Her mouth twitched and moved and tremored, unsure whether to smile, laugh, cry or scream.

She seemed to decide on choking out a cry instead.

"H-how far along are we?" (Y/n) brushed her shaking hand beneath her eyes to catch her fallen tears that were building up so badly that she could barely see Henry.

"Fourteen weeks, give or take. I know we had a small talk about wanting a baby, are you... okay, about this?" They had a few brief talks but nothing big or substancial and now they didn't really have much of a choice because it had happened already.

(Y/n) didn't know what she was thinking, or what she was supposed to say. She wanted a baby, in fact, she was desperate for a baby. But she didn't want to lost another baby. She didn't want to wait around in agony and give birth and hold her baby for two hours and then give her away to be buried and forgotten.

She wanted a baby she could bring home and cherish and kiss and feed and cuddle and shower with love.

"We're having a baby." The way (Y/n)'s lips curled up into a smile made a weight lift from Henry's chest and he let out a breathless chuckle.

Standing up, he towered over her and cupped his hand around the back of her neck so he could bring their foreheads together. He took a moment to relish in the close contact and brought his other hand up to cradle her cheek, smiling when he felt her hands coming up to rest on his chest. He kissed her like she was his oxygen he was trying to devour. Their lips meshed together and (Y/n) could taste the coffee on his tongue and his cold lips felt heavenly against her flush skin.

"We're having a baby."

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry x reader #henry cavill fluff #imagine #pregnancy #pregnant! reader #look at us

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cartoon-buffoon · 2 months ago

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Here's a fic I TRIED to finish on Friday the 13th but I was too wrapped up in creating a gift for someone. Uhh wanna note: THIS IS A HUMAN AU/THE TOONS ARE HUMANS this is for a lore reason! Anywho while I do have an idea where this AU goes/leads I wanna make a note that this is kinda a one shot? If there's an audience and some folks are intrigued I'll consider continuing this. Just ask lol, anyways with that outta the way—WARNINGS!: MURDER, BLOOD, & CHILD DEATH!! (that's all, enjoy!)↓

Victims NO. 4 & 5

The night was cold as the married couple drove in their car down to the scene of a crime. Both were asleep in their beds only a few minutes ago, they were forced to awake after their friend at the station gave them a call. Oswald reached into his glove compartment and popped a small caffeine tablet into his mouth. He could have perhaps brewed himself a fresh pot before he left or maybe stopped by a gas station to get himself something but he didn't want to waste any time. The crime scene wasn't going anywhere but he felt like every second he didn't dedicate to solving this spree of grizzly killings was time wasted. The pills used to be quick pick-me-ups so he could think straight, however over the last few weeks he had become more than reliant on them to keep him lively. Tonight was one of the few nights he managed to get some sleep finally, it was just his luck that another killing happened. Thankfully it was just him who was sleep deprived, unfortunately the reason why his wife was wide awake was because she heard the details of the call. While Oswald tried to keep the entire thing hush-hush, Ortensia caught wind of a few words shared that sent adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"2 bodies—"

"—Eyes gouged out—"

"—20 minutes after—"

"—ages 16 and 10..."

It was that last one that messed her up the most, that little detail making her stomach churn. She could piece the full story together only hearing those details that were given a bit too loud over the phone. From what it sounded like this was nothing more than the work of the sick fuck they had been trying to track down all this time. She couldn't fathom it, children, literal children being subjected to something so heinous and vile. Just the thought made her blood boil, the second she'd find the bastard who did it—

"Babe? You okay?"

Ortensia snapped out of her head, called to earth by the concerned voice of her husband. Not once did he look away from the road yet the long silence signaled him to know something was up.

"Babe?... You still sleepy?" He asked.

"No... No I'm not..." Looking at her husband she couldn't help but feel anger, he didn't tell her a thing about the case that he got an entire rundown on. Confronting him directly, she stared out the window at the dark scenery, trying her best not to get too mad "... I heard what Felix said, he's not exactly keen on whispering things"

Oswald flinched, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he glanced at his wife. Quickly composing himself he focused back on the road and muttered "I'm sorry... I just felt like it would be better if you didn't know"

"And find out while I'm already there? Yeah that's way better" she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I know! I know! I'm sorry it's just–it's just–just–" Between the pills taking effect and the pain he felt for lying to his wife he couldn't help but stutter. Quickly he did his best to compose himself, stopping at a stop sign he took a breath and looked for any oncoming cars. With not a soul in sight he exhaled and continued on, "I didn't want to off-put you on this... I know you want to catch this guy as much as I do yet I know you don't do kid cases"

Ortensia's expression softened as she turned to her husband, the man rapidly thumping his foot against the floorboard out of clear anxiety making any anger she felt fade away. She could never truly stay mad at him, as much as it did hurt to know he kept this information pointlessly private in the end it was because he cared. He was absolutely right in the sense that she didn't deal with cases involving kids, it hurt too much. This was different though, this time she'd tackle past pain and carry on in hopes to find this killer and put an end to his killings.

Putting a hand on Oswald's thigh Ortensia sighed "... I understand honey, we're in this together though, that means if you know something I also know it"

"I understand... It won't happen again" Oswald gave a small smile and started to drive with one hand, the other going towards his wife's which he squeezed tightly.

Ortensia squeezed his hand back, resting her head on his shoulder. She appreciated the small moment of peace they had before they would be thrust into whatever dark residue a killer left behind.

It wasn't long after that until they arrived on the scene, the lot of a famous movie studio. They obviously couldn't drive right in, a gate blocked their entry, luckily waiting there at the gate was their friend Felix. The dark haired slightly chubby chief of police opened the gate and gestured for them to drive on in. Once the car passed the gate he locked it back up and made his way over to the driver's side door.

Knocking at the window, he waited for Oswald to roll down the tinted glass before saying "you sure got here fast–"he stopped midway, noticing Ortensia in the passenger seat "Oh! Whiskers... I uhh, didn't expect you to come out with Oz" Felix also knew of Ortensia's weak stomach for children cases, his tone one full of shock that she showed up.

"I'm on the case as much as Ozzie is, I didn't hear the full story though, mind explaining what happened?"

"Mmm, I didn't give Oz the full thing either"

"Wait—you didn't?" Oswald piped up "What'd you leave out then?"

Felix winced, looking over in the distance he pulled away from the window and gestured for them to follow "I'll explain once ya see what went down—bodies were already wheeled out... It's just blood left"

Ortensia could tell that little detail was added just for her sake, some sort of reassurance so that she wouldn't get squeamish. It felt patronizing yet after seeing Oswald lie for the sake of protecting her she knew Felix was doing something similar. It was nice to know she had such thoughtful friends, although she didn't pay any attention to the small kindness. What she was concerned with was the way Felix talked, his tone and even his demeanor was... Off?

As the couple got out of their car and followed Felix across the lot on foot, Ortensia nudged her husband to get his attention.

"Hmm?" He turned to her "what is it?"

Lowering her voice to a whisper she remarked "do you see anything wrong with Felix?"

"..." Looking over at his friend Oswald made a snarky comment "he didn't make a god awful joke?"

Although joking Ortensia nodded "actually yes, we both know he loves his dark humor and everytime he calls us out to one of these he always tries to lighten things up"

"Well, you think there's some joke to be made here?" Oswald raised an eyebrow "Maybe he finally learned how to read a room and not be insensitive"

"Mmm... Maybe you're right"

The two fell silent, Ortensia still bothered by Felix who led them to an area below a water tower. When the man said there was blood he meant it, Felix's car's headlights illuminated a small portion showing the lower metal poles of the water tower drenched with red. It got even worse when they looked at the ground and saw fired blood extending for several feet outside of two small chalk outlines. Ortensia instinctively took a step back, the mental image at what went down almost making her vomit. Oswald immediately noticed and wrapped an arm around her, she quickly calmed herself and gave a nod to signify she was okay and stepped back up.

Felix lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag off of it before scratching his head "security guard called in a few hours ago... Didn't hear a thing and I waited for things to get less messy before calling ya in, Oz"

"Don't, once you've seen the first victim this bastard has made you know what to expect" Oswald took one last look at his wife before letting go, walking around the pools of blood on the ground he surveyed the area for anything out of the ordinary "so you catch the story of what happened before everything went down?"

Felix nodded "Security guard said three kids who worked here as actors always would stay after hours and hang out around this water tower, when he came to shoo them out as usual he found 'em sprawled out on the floor"

Oswald perked up at his friend's words, looking at the chalk outlines he quickly pointed out the inconsistency. "You said there was only 2 bodies, where's the other?"

Felix went silent, he didn't turn to face Oswald as he tried to maintain apathy about the entire situation "Third kid... The middle child of the bunch got out unscathed, we got him in custody down at the station"

"Custody!?" Oswald looked around, puzzled at the word choice.

Felix could see his friends confusion and swallowed a ball of spit in his throat "Ya see Oz–"

"Hay Ozzie!" Ortensia interrupted, her voice distant and around a corner "I got footprints, they match the ones we found the last 3 times!"

Oswald immediately rushed over to his wife, following the sound of her voice much to the chief of police's dismay. Felix's cigarette fell out of his mouth as he was quick to follow in hopes to explain something dire. He didn't get a chance though, instead shock took over as he saw what the two others saw. On the floor laid a blood stained knife, the asphalt damp in an area where the tears of the survivor had fallen.

"... Felix...I thought you said the third was unscratched?"

"He is Oz, this is just where we found him when we were called, the security guard didn't see the kid"

Ortensia covered her mouth as she realized what this meant, her eyes filling up with tears of her own "they... They had to watch as their siblings were..." She couldn't bring herself to say it, her body trembling from the full extent of the situation "oh god..."

Oswald immediately pulled Ortensia into a hug, patting her on the back as he turned to Felix "the kid must have seen the killer's face right? If you have him down at the station I don't know what the hell we're doing here when we need to find out who this sicko is"

Felix scratched his head, desperately trying to think of something "there's a lot too it Oz, if ya give me a second I can explain there's some security camera footage that–"

"Security cameras!?" Oswald repeated in a surge of excitement. He was almost in disbelief, the prospect that they had caught whoever did this on film filled him with a rush that put the caffeine tablets he took to shame. He wiped away his wife's tears, his breaths shallow as he tried to give her a reassuring smile that this entire line of killings was over "HA! Security camera footage, we got him! We actually got him!"

Ortensia gave a shaky sigh of relief and buried her face into her husband's shoulder, whispering thanks out "oh thank the Lord... Thank the Lord, nobody else will have to–"

"CAN I SPEAK!?"

All excitement faded as they looked to see Felix, his face being one unrecognizable. The earlier sentiment Ortensia had that something was off was right as Felix's face was one that held horror. Seeing fear—no—genuine *dread* on his face was all but too startling for the couple who were used to seeing the jolly chief be nothing but jokes. The yell was even more startling, to hear what Felix sounded like with a raised voice made them fearfully look at each other. The look they shared made Felix turn away realizing his outburst helped no one, instead lowering his voice, he got straight to it as he trembled.

"The footage... You REALLY need to see the footage okay?"

Ortensia and Oswald looked at each other, understanding that whatever this was, this took priority. And priority it did as Felix brought them over to his car where he opened up his trunk to grab his laptop, the security footage already pulled up. He placed the laptop on the back of his car and pressed play, stepping back for all of them to see in clear view.

At first it seemed normal, the footage was 4 screens showcasing different parts of the studio lot, the entire thing being sped up and holding no audio. If they didn't know any better they would just assume it was footage of 3 kids goofing around in a lot underneath a water tower. Eventually though the middle child left, leaving the youngest and eldest there, the girl and boy shared equal amounts of confusion as their brother left so abruptly. That confusion soon turned to worry, the footage showing a whole hour passed before both started pacing back and forth, most likely worrying for their brother. It was right around the 3 AM mark of the video did Felix take the liberty to slow it down getting exactly what happened before two lives were lost. The eldest and youngest were talking about something unknown, their mouths moving on camera before both stopped at what one could only assume was some sort of sound. Whatever the sound was, it scared them half to death as both stood frozen for a second, the eldest telling his sister to wait while he investigated. The footage from that point became choppy, static cutting in and out as they saw the youngest disobey the orders and courageously follow her brother much to his dismay and reluctance. With both siblings in tow they moved off the first panel's sight, crossing over into the second and third as they investigated. Behind them hung a passing shadow, a blink and you'll miss it moment where it showed something dash across frame and follow them. Oswald and Ortensia couldn't look away as the kids finally landed in the sights of the fourth camera lens showcasing their last moments. The brother and sister anxiously walked until they were stopped by the sight of their own brother standing in the moonlight, knife in hand. The couple's hearts sank to their stomach and blood ran cold at the sight, the young boy had a blank smile on his face as he took a step forward with malicious intent.

Then it just ended, as quick as it came the footage ended. Static replaced anything visible promoting Felix to press a button and pause it.

"That's where it ends..." Is all Felix had to say leaving the two detectives with no answers and only questions.

#fanfiction #my fanfiction #skitzothe1920skillerbear #fanfic #oswald the lucky rabbit #ortensia whiskers #tw: death #AU #my au #felix the cat #wanna note if it ain't obvious the children are the Warners #sorry the warner siblings had to die #tw: blood #tw: child death #also this IS skitzo related #you can assume Skitzo's role in this right?#detective au

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firstaidspray · 10 months ago

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Birthday Countdown Revchase Snippets - Day 8

To celebrate Valentine's month as well as my birthday month, I'm going to post a snippet of Revchase every day until my birthday, using these prompts- there are 25 so it leads right up to my birthday!! Here's eight!!

8- Write about one member of your ship giving the other a compliment.

Pairing: Robert Chase/Reverie (oc)

Media: House MD

Word Count: 646

Rating: T

CW: Drug mention

REV COMPLIMENTS CHASE

Another surgery done and dusted. The patient's in PACU, the OR is being cleaned, and the surgical staff are all peeling out of their gear. Reverie is back in nothing but scrubs first, fluffing her hair in front of a mirror.

“Hate how damn surgical caps smash down my hair,” she groans, having fixed it back to a decent shape.

She then turns to face Chase, who has pulled his own hair out of the cap and face from beneath his mask. Reverie stares at him, hearts in her eyes. Even after a long, hard surgery, the man is stunning to her.

“What?” Chase asks, flashing that sweet smile of his.

Those pretty pink lips, perfect teeth, the way his undereyes crinkle up and his cheeks round out– it's all absolutely heavenly to Reverie. She places her chin in her hand, tilting her head and staring at her boyfriend.

“You have such an adorable smile,” Reverie says with one of her own. “Literally makes my heart skip a beat just looking at it. My God.”

Chase blushes and that precious smile widens. “It's not that cute. You don't have to lie.”

Reverie shakes her head. “I'm not. You can put on a stethoscope and listen for yourself. C'mon, smile and I'll prove it.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You don't need to prove it. It's just really cute the way you told me. And maybe I like hearing you repeat it.”

She smirks and walks up to him, then takes his smiling face between her hands. “I'll repeat it forever. The prettiest, sweetest smile I've ever seen.”

His face burns with blush under her hands, and the smile stays. “And you're the prettiest, sweetest girl I've ever met.”

Reverie giggles. “Is this game going to go on all day?”

With a scoff, Chase answers, “maybe so.”

CHASE COMPLIMENTS REV

It's never unusual when Reverie begins a morning with a painkiller and an energy drink. Chase has watched her do it a billion times. The speed of the caffeine and the slow of the drugs mix into a “fun” swirl in her head, and she rides that wave all day.

She does this because she's in pain, always. Similarly to House, in fact, though she doesn't pop as many pills as he does per day. And when Reverie is in a lot of pain, she doesn't put effort into her appearance. So there she sits at the kitchen island, sipping on a can of Monster, her short hair a tangled mess, eyes already heavy with exhaustion, dressed in only a loose tank top and sweats and hospital socks.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

Chase’s voice shocks her and she nearly chokes on her energy drink. Reverie whips around to face him as he walks in from the bedroom, still in pajamas himself, but much better looking in her eyes.

“You're so full of shit,” Reverie responds, downing the rest of her drink. “Look at me. I'm not gorgeous.”

He scoffs. “I beg to differ. If you aren't gorgeous, then why do I get butterflies like a stupid teenage boy every time I look at you?”

Blush creeps over her cheeks. “I dunno, you're insane? I am not gorgeous.”

Chase rolls his eyes as he approaches her and wraps his hands around her waist. “Rev, I'm serious. You're the prettiest little angel I've ever seen in my life.”

Reverie rolls her eyes, much more dramatically than he did. “Even like this? Even all sick and shitty looking?”

Chase kisses her on the top of the head. “You couldn't be shitty looking if you tried. You're just as beautiful when you're sick and tired as when you're done up in makeup. The most beautiful.”

Her face lights up bright red, and she speaks with a genuine tone, “Thank you, luv. You're the sweetest.”

“And you're the prettiest.”

#my writing #birthday countdown revchase snippets #reverie #revchase #robert chase #x: gee angel

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madbalalaika · 2 years ago

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Health update #3

So, one thing about my recovery is that for the first month of the treatment I had to exclude from my diet not only everything I'm allergic to (things containing lactose, gluten, and beef as well), but also all the common allergens, aaand everything that could trigger my reflux (fatty food, anything baked/fried, anything sour, coffee, chocolate, etc.), and the point of it was allowing my gut/stomach/esophagus heal first and then I could slowly reintroduce certain foods back: if I still have a reaction, I wait longer and then try again.

And that time has come! I CAN FINALLY DRINK COFFEE!!! It's been a minute!

I've also done some goofs with meds/supplements about a week ago. First, I took a loratadine pill that we had at home because my skin was itching very badly (dust maybe, idk), but I forgot to read the contents before taking it. And what do you know, it had lactose! Lemme tell you, the consequences were not fun 🤡

The second time was a couple days later. I was feeling great, and was like "fuck yeah, might as well try drinking coffee for the first time in god knows how long". So I did, and it was completely fine, I didn't feel anything unusual at all, so I was like "sick, awesome", but there's also one nuance that I learned the hard way last year: never mix coffee with gluten when you're allergic to the latter.

Fast forward to that same day, later in the evening. I decided to try lactase wafers, that we bought a couple days prior, with some butter and regular milk to see what happens. So I take the thing, I start eating, at the same time reading through the label on the bottle. My eyes suddenly widen in terror as I find a line that says "contains wheat".

MOTHERF-

What happens next might shock you- no I'm just kidding

But seriously, when I tell you for the next few days my whole digestive tract fucking hurt, it FUCKING HURT. And the most fucked up thing was that not a single mf, not a single pharmacy's website, not even the official distributor's website, or the translation sticker (that they covered the original label with) specified what exactly that supplement contained. I had to actually rip apart the protective film with the sticker first to then read the English label to find out that that expensive af thingy does tenfold more damage to me than it actually helps.

Oh but I didn't get bloated from the milk, how cool is that 🤡

Anyway... I do admit that I should've done more research though, but oh well, what's done is done

P.S. the award of "truly the most hyperfixation food of all time" goes to Swiss hard and Parmesan cheeses. It's been 2 weeks, I haven't been able to stop eating a whole pack a day since. Send help

Edit: oh, and remember I told you I was super sensitive to sugar and caffeine before? So apparently it was due to thyroid hormone imbalance that, in turn, was due to my (as the endocrinologist I went to suggested) covid-like sickness back in December, but as time goes by it should go back to normal, so that's cool 👍

#health updates

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canarycolemine · 2 years ago

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The Little Prince’s Problem

Summary: There's been a thief at the Abbey's Infirmary, stealing a particular medication. A senior Sister of Sin hacks a plan to find the thief and give them their punishment.

Papa Emeritus III x Original Female Character

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, light dom/sub, spit kink, medication (Viagra lol)

WC: 4K

Ao3 Link

Sister Diana completed her patient rounds of the Abbey’s infirmary for the morning. Nothing too much of a concern, nothing that the competent medical team could not handle. Poor Sister Ilia is still fighting a nasty case of pneumonia, Sibling Kai had their foot cast readjusted, and all Sister Maria needed was some pain medication from a rough night with a fellow sibling of sin.

“Oh, just acetaminophen?” Maria asked, as if expecting more.

Diana cocked her head, she’s been around the Abbey long enough to know what Maria meant.

“Did you need a Plan B, too, hun?”

Maria looked down, embarrassed at how Diana could see right through her.

“It's okay, love. I’ll be right back with that, but please, next time, a condom. We don’t need gonorrhea going around again.”

Diana turned on her heels to the medical supply room, adjacent to the infirmary. She went to unlock the doors when, to her surprise, the door was unlocked already. Odd, she thought, the door always had to stay locked.

She opened the door and saw nothing immediately out of the ordinary. The room was well lit, no windows. Diana walked cautiously around the room, making her way to the emergency contraceptives. She pulled out a single-use pill pack, still examining other shelves for signs of tampering.

Nothing, everything was squeaky clean.

As she left the room, she made her way to the locked cabinet to update the inventory for the medication. She checked the box to signify one less pill. An immediate sense of dread filled her.

She was probably going to have to count every single pill, under suspicion that something was stolen.

Taking an already exasperated sigh, she locked the inventory book back in its designated spot. As she walked back into the infirmary, she grabbed a package of condoms. No inventory log was kept for the condoms or dental dams, the entire Abbey went through too many packs to keep count.

Sister Diana pulled the privacy curtain back to greet Maria once again; the younger sibling looking sheepishly at her superior.

“Alright, my friend, one Plan B. You may have some nausea or vomiting for a few days, also a headache too. If anything gets too bad, just come on back.” She handed the younger Sister her pill and condoms. Maria’s mouth stayed downturned.

“Hey, Maria.” Diana sat next to her, offering her reassurance. “It’s okay. There’s no shame in this, you know. If you ever get worried or nervous, just come back. You can always talk to me.”

Maria turned to face her, she smiled gently. Her nerves faded away.

��Thanks, Di.”

Diana escorted her from the infirmary. As she waved the young woman away, she made her way to her office. She had some thinking to do.

At the adjacent desk sat Sister Evie, caught in the throws of charting. She was moving at a pace that told Diana that Evie had not been properly caffeinated.

“Evie! Did you leave the medication room unlocked?” Diana did not mean to sound accusatory, but she wasn’t ready to rule out any suspicion.

Evie snapped her head to her fellow nurse. “Wait, what?! It was unlocked? No! I haven’t gone in there all morning. I wasn’t even working yesterday!”

“Well, fuck.” Diana said, never once doubting Evie’s capabilities.

Evie looked around the room, “Does this mean…?”

“Yes, Evie, we have to count all the pills.” Diana said, so utterly defeated.

“Maybe not all of them,” Evie offered, “We could start with the ones we think that people would be most likely to steal. You know: the Adderall, the Sudafed - although I don’t think we have enough to make meth, oh! And the Viagra!”

“Well damn, Evie, I gotta give you credit.” Diana said with a chuckle, Evie’s head now tilting in confusion. “I always thought you would be more book smart than street smart.”

“I’m going to disregard that comment, and take a break from charting to help you, because I am a good friend and steward of wellness to this congregation of Satan.” Evie always sounded so official when she was offended.

The two Sisters made their way back to the storage room and began their work. Pulling out all of the pill packages of the three medications.

Diana retrieved the inventory book from its storage place. “I’ll start with the Viagra.”

“I’ll do Adderall!” Evie said, almost too enthusiastically.

Both nurses looked at each other, chuckling at Evie’s phrasing.

Ten minutes in, and Evie proclaimed, “Adderall’s all good, I’ll will do Xanax next”

Nearly twenty minutes passed, completing three recounts for accuracy. Diana had not yet confirmed the number in the inventory. She referenced the number she counted twice with the number listed. 47, she counted; 50 written as the inventory.

She was hesitant to announce the missing medication, so she counted once again. Again, 47 counted.

“Well, I think we have a winner.” Diana said, relaxing her eyes after the tedious task of counting pills. “Someone’s got limp dick.”

“Who do you think took it, D? I mean, we’re both here almost all the time, and no one ever touches our keys.”

“I think we’ll have to catch our thief in the act.” Diana was hatching her plan, “Evie, I’m gonna leave early today to take a nap. I’ll stay in the infirmary for the night, to see if anyone sneaks in.”

“Are you just saying that to get out of charting?” Evie recalled the other tedious task.

“Yes, but also, stealing is a sin.”

“Girl, where do you think we are?”

Diana rolled her eyes. “Okay, but stealing medication? I feel like Satan would call that a dick move.”

“Fair enough. Sleep well, princess. Catch our limp dick prince in the act.”

Diana spent the afternoon prepping for her unofficial overnight shift. Her infirmary habit and veil switched to a more casual, comfortable one. She was able to sneak a few hours of sleep before she made her way back to infirmary. To make it up to Evie, she would fix the hem of Evie’s favorite habit that had gathered some fraying. Diana figured it would be a good way to also pass the time.

Passing by the infirmary, she entered the storage room, locking it behind her. Whoever needed to come in would either need a key or try to pry it open. Either way, she would catch the rat. She set up a small stool in the corner of the room, as to not be visible to anyone who walked into the room.

And so the hours passed, long had passed since Diana had fixed the hem of the dress. Her eyelids grew heavy in the windowless room. She thought, well, if anyone tried to open the door, she would wake up. Surely.

Consciousness slowly fading, when a jingle of keys was heard at the door. Diana straightened herself. She tucked herself further out of the line of sight.

The door opened slowly, purposefully quietly, closed quietly. Whoever it was, they ensured that the latch would hardly make a sound when it was shut. Diana tried to peer to get a view at this silent intruder. She was worried that even her presence would stir the air to alert the thief.

She could see a figure, clad in black moving slowly in the dimly lit room. Clearly wearing a hood, all black. Diana nearly huffed to herself that they might as well wear a striped shirt and eye mask, as they were clearly looking the part of a burglar.

The thief moved to the medication compartments, looking through the various compartments.

“C’mon, you know exactly what it is you’re looking for.” She thought to herself.

Whoever this thief was was certainly enjoying the theater of their crime, wiggling their fingers to carefully select the little blue pills from their proper storage. Placing them in their pocket, and going back for more. Diana could now make out white gloves, a certainly masculine build, and a flair for the dramatics. It certainly couldn’t be…

Her eyes widened as the thief brought their hands to the hood, pushing it back to reveal themselves, still unaware of the nurse’s presence.

“Holy shit.” She thought. Diana could hardly keep her breath contained.

There, clear as day, was none other than Papa Emeritus the Third, skull paint still intact from the day. His hands ran through his raven hair to relieve a scratch that was evidently worth compromising his anonymity for. Quickly as he revealed himself, he masked himself once again.

“Ah shit.” His Italian accent, now muffled from his cloak, indicating he dropped one packet of the pills.

Quickly, quietly, he left the room.

Any plans to confront the thief at the scene of the crime were simply out the window. Diana was dumbfounded at the revelation. She sat, stunned in silence for longer than she would have liked to admit.

Diana could hardly remember when she stood up and left her hiding spot. No memory of climbing into bed to eek a few more hours of sleep before the day began. She was stunned.

The morning came all too painfully.

“Who has the floppy dicks?” Diana registered, apparently restarting her consciousness. She was already in the infirmary. Sister Evie, all too cheery, eating her morning apple.

“Hello? …D? You like you’ve seen a ghost” Evie said mid-bite. “Did our thief show up last night?”

“Um,” Diana started, “...yyyes.”

Evie’s eyes widened. “Giiiiirrrl, who? Obviously patient confidentiality, but then again, they did steal it. So, I have no guilt for floppy dick.”

“I don’t. I don’t know.” Diana was still all too tired for the revelation. “He was wearing a cloak and couldn’t see me. I wanted to catch them in the act, but like, then they revealed themselves and I literally. I don’t even know. It’s just surprising to me!”

“Re: girl, WHO?”

“Okay, okay.” Diana leaned forward, looking around to ensure no one else could hear. “You wouldn’t even guess.”

“Ew! Not Nihil, right?” Diana shook her head.

“Okay, yeah, that makes sense. I can hear him halfway across the Abbey every few days with Imperator, so that’s fucking gross. Someone with a master key... Um,... it is, like, upper clergy, right?” Diana nodded, evidentially wanting to play the guessing game.

“Okay, so, …Cardinal Giovanni?” Diana shook her head. “Damn, it’s not a Papa.” Diana’s nose scrunched.

“Holy shit!” Evie’s eyes widened. “I mean, Primo?” Diana shook her head. “Secondo?”

“And it’s not your favorite Papa either.” Diana winked, causing Evie to blush. All too fast, Evie’s expression dropped.

“Not Ter…” Diana shook her head. “Oh my god, girl!” The two Sisters could hardly contain their fit of giggles, threatening to alert any passerbye of their conversation.

“The sex god himself can’t get hard.” Evie said through a struggle whisper. “What did Imperator say when you told her?”

“Uh, I, um, haven’t told her. Yet.”

“D, why not? He stole.”

“Yes, from a Satanic Church, Evie! It shouldn’t even matter.”

“It’s the principle! And why are you acting so offended? What, are you going to confront him yourself in hopes that you get dicked down?”

Diana looked down, not immediately offering a rebuttal,

“D?” Evie did her best to catch Diana’s eyes. “Do you wanna get dicked down by Papa?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. We have fun, but this is… a new territory.” It was true. Diana was no stranger to the third Emeritus’ bed. The two played switch-y games, bouncing dominance back and forth until they were both spent. Diana recalls those nights fondly, when Evie brings her back to reality.

“Well shit, what are you gonna do?”

“Have fun! Make him sweat.”

“I’m convinced this crime was brought to your lap by Lucifer himself. He said, I will curse my little prince with a softie until the pretty nurse can fuck the man.”

“More like get fucked by the little prince, but I respect the logic.” Diana straightened in her chair, “Evie, you do not take a whole hell of a lot of convincing for things, don’t you.”

Evie bit into her apple, “Just like my namesake!”

The work day continued, Diana catching up on her charting and Evie’s charting, as promised. Throughout the day, Diana would smile to herself knowing she had the man, now she had to hatch a plan.

Settling on it, she finished her work near sunset. Before leaving the infirmary for the day, she made one last stop to the medicine room, then her dormitory to ready herself.

A black lace garter, panties and bra to match, covered by a more form fitting habit than her typical.

She sauntered through the hallways with a sway in her hips, evidence of her confidence.

Landing upon a lavish oak door in the upper clergy office’s hallway, she read the name plate.

“Papa Emeritus the Third” golden, gently reflected the light of the hallways.

She knocked confidently, three times, trying to hide the smirk building on her face.

“Come in.” A familiarly muffled voice sounded from inside.

She opened the door slowly, her voice introducing herself before she was visible to Papa.

“Papa, may I come in?” The smirk, now masked by her own up-pitching of her voice.

“Ah, of course!” Diana entered and saw the man. He sat behind his desk, paperwork strewn about from a day’s work nearly done. His papal paints still holding from the day. Diana thought to herself, she should really ask him what he uses to keep his paints in place all day.

As she walked in, her smile turned innocent. His shirt was another piece of evidence of his fatigue - a black button up, with the top buttons undone, revealing a tuft of hair on his chest. A pair of fitted black trousers was evident as he stood to formally greet the woman.

“Please, sit, sorella.” Diana sat at a fine leather chair in front of his desk, as did Papa behind his own desk once again. “What do I owe the pleasure, Diana?”

“Well, Papa, I’ve been concerned lately. You haven’t been to your yearly visit yet, have you?”

“Ah,” he laughed, “I have not. I do not like the, eh, doctors. All the poking and the prodding, you know.”

Diana tilted her head, her smirk remained.

“Not that I don’t mind a little, ahem, poking and prodding.”

“It’s very important to keep up with your visits, Papa.” She tried to ignore his innuendo. “Just want to make sure everything’s normal.”

“Ah, well, thank you, Diana. Always looking out for this old man.”

“Not that old, not really.”

“You flatter me! But, no, I can feel it from time to time. I am not getting any younger.”

Diana crossed her legs, mentally asserting some dominance. “I understand.”

“Was there anything else you needed, sorella?” Papa’s confidence was wavering, disguised by a clearing of his throat.

“Hm, perhaps. We’ve been having troubles, you see, down in the infirmary.”

“Troubles?” Another clearing of his throat. Diana noted this, a repeated behavior, certainly a symptom of deception. “Of what sort?”

“Poor Evie, she must have been dropped too much as a child. She’s been terrible at keeping track of our inventory. I just feel so bad, Papa.” Diana played. “So, so bad.”

“Have you discussed this with Imperator?”

“I tried to, but she didn’t believe me.” She lied. “You know she dotes too much on us girls.”

“As do I, tesoro.”

“You do?” She tilted her head so slightly, to catch the light in her eyes.

Papa laughed. He felt some confidence return, seeing the respect in the woman’s eyes.

“But of course! What kind of a Papa would I be if I didn’t dote on my beauties!” He relaxed in his chair, happy to perform his charms again.

Diana’s eyes meet his again. Smiling, “Would you dote on me, Papa?”

“Ah, I see now.” Papa chidded. “Is that why you came to visit me? Would you like me to take care of you now, cara?”

“I want you to take care of me several times a day, Papa!” Her laughter broke him, the were as equals.

“As you wish, but eh,” He stood, adjusting his hair. “...You would allow me to just take care of you, si? You do not have to, eh, reciprocate.”

“Oh, but I want to, Papa.” Diana stood. His nose scrunched, his hands came to pick his nails.

“I assure you, sorella, you do not have to…”

“Papa, sit down.” His mismatched eyes widened for a moment. As he sat, Diana leaned herself over his fine oak desk, propping herself on her elbows.

“Papa, would you ever lie?”

Papa swallowed, looking around the room. “Of course not, never.” He lied.

Diana moved herself closer to him.

“Would you ever steal?”

“I have been known to, from time to time.” His cheeks were warming, reddening even under his thick paints.

“Would you steal something from me?” Diana moved her body fully onto the desk, creeping her face ever closer to his.

“I could be convinved.” His hands moved to her arms, slowly moving up them.

She kissed his nose and moved her kisses to the shell of his ear.

“Please take my clothes off of me.”

He gripped her strongly, pulling her all the way forward over to his side of the desk. Once her feet were steady, he moved his hands to hastily remove her veil. Her amber locks fell softly. His skilled hands caressed her curves as he pulled the zipper of her habit off. He let the fabric pool at her feet as it fell.

His eyes moved slowly up her form, drinking her in. A small garter belt wrapped around her thigh, matching black panties with her bra hugged her perfectly. He was warm, head spinning. He nearly drew blood biting his lip as he admired her.

But alas, a strain was missing. Namely the one in his trousers. A pain that brought him shame like no other. His expression rapidly changed at his internal struggle. He removed his eyes from her form to the floor.

“Papa,” Diana brought her hands to his face, moving to his shoulders. As he met her gaze, his expression warmed again. She was beautiful. His hands cupped her face, bringing her close for a tender kiss. One full of understanding and devotion, even if just for right now. “Let me help.”

He pulled away, opening his eyes to her brilliant green eyes. She guided his hands to her breasts.

He noticed a small square indentation around her breast, as if something was in her bra. His eyebrow cocked. She pulled out a small plastic bag from her hiding place. She dangled it next to her face, a smirk growing.

Its contents stunned Papa for a moment, looking at her and then the contents once again. A burning lit his cheeks, unlike the pleasant one from moments ago.

“Ah, cara, I…” He couldn’t form words.

“Hush, old man.” Diana was calm. She opened the bag, retrieved the small blue pill that lay inside. Her other hand cupped Papa’s chin, prying his mouth open.

“Say the word, and I stop, Papa.” Her expression was cold, giving him the pause.

“I want… Yes, cara.” He swallowed hard, his voice shaking.

“Good little prince.” She delicately placed the pill on his tongue and kept his mouth open. She pushed him to his knees. She swirled her tongue in her closed mouth, sucking in her cheeks. Once satisfied, she leaned over to his mouth. She spat in his mouth and closed his mouth.

He swallowed gratefully, never breaking eye contact with the woman.

“It’s no good to take a pill without something to help it go down, my beloved Papa.”

He stood, his figure now towering over her. Her power was taken back by the man.

“Oh sweet one. It may take some time for the pill to work. What a shame, though, si? You must wait for my cock.”

“I’d suffer Hell for less.” Diana breathed.

“And suffer you will, cara.”

Papa lifted her in a swift motion, sitting her on his desk. His hands traveled from her thighs, dragging up her sides to her back, where her bra clasps remained. Painted black lips crashed against hers, stealing her breath. Handiwork continued behind her, unhooking her bra and tearing it from her body. Papa broke their kiss to admire her bare chest.

A breath hitched in his throat.

“Bellissima.” He whispered for himself, bringing his hands to caress her supple flesh. A trail of black kisses he started on her jaw, moving slowly towards her breasts. He licked the sensitive flesh of her nipple before kissing softly.

Ever the gentleman, his hand attended to the breast, not being attended to by his mouth. Taking the nipple into his mouth, he sucked gently, flicking his tongue in rhythm with pinches to the opposite breast. Diana groaned at the exquisite pain.

With a pop, he removed herself, peppering kisses on her flesh. “So receptive for Papa, sweet one.” He repeated his ministrations on the opposite breast. Squeezing, kissing, cherishing her warm, soft skin. “How sweet you taste.”

Bringing himself to his knees before the woman, he parted her thighs.

“And how sweet you smell.” He flashed a grin at Diana. Blushing at her inability to hide her affections, she was brought to her senses by her panties being ripped from her body. As he slid the remaining fabric down her legs, he pressed his strong thumbs into the soles of her feet. Stroking softly, he treated the hardworking woman, if only for a moment.

The pressure felt exquisite from a long day of being on her feet. Papa was nothing if not a courteous lover. He moved slowly up each leg, pressing into her flesh, relieving tension of the muscle.

She couldn’t help the groans not of pleasure, but relief, that escaped her.

As he approached her calves, his mouth began working her muscles, kissing the soft flesh. Opening his mouth to graze and suck as he pleased. The trail of kisses grew closer to her core, the more sensitive flesh eliciting her moans and hisses.

Papa’s hands moved behind her to pull her closer to him. His skilled hands found themselves at her core, evidence of her need growing ever present. With a calculated motion, he swiped a single finger down her slit to gather the slick on his digit. He withdrew his hand to inspect the fluid.

“Hmm..” he purred, taking his finger into his mouth to taste the juices.

“Please, Papa.”

“Ah, ah. Sweet girl, you know it will take some time for the medicine to take effect. It must be so difficult for you, but you are being so patient for me. Please, sorella, just a few moments more.” His voice mocked sympathy, the effects of the medication taking early action.

“Papa” she whined. She was desperate for any contact. The cold of the room striking her flesh, making her feel more exposed.

“I love to hear you beg for me. Look at you, just so needy for me.”

“Please!” She was nearly hysterical with lack of contact.

“What do you want? You must tell Papa so he can take care of you, si?”

“Just please fucking touch me” she yelled.

As commanded, he brought his lips to her core, gently kissing her sensitive clit. He began his ministrations of kitten licking up and down her slit, circling her entrance. His tongue dove into her core, pressing into her velvet heat.

More guttural moans spilled from her mouth. Papa was edged on, he knew she could not last long, as worked up as she was. Perhaps he could elicit something more from her.

His mouth moved from her entrance back to her bud, latching and suckling gently. His tongue flicking at the flesh, a single finger began slowly circling her entrance. He pressed into the flesh, not penetrating, but building pressure.

“Papa, Papa, please.” Her whines continued.

A single finger pressed into her, her walls clamping down eagerly. He began pumping slowly, nearly dragging his digit out. A second finger soon joined, scissoring to stretch her. As his tongue continued eliciting her sweet sounds, his actions sped. Increasing his suckling, he curled his fingers inside of her, in search of something even sweeter.

He pressed into her further, finding the sensitive spot. Her toes curled and hands reached for his hair. Her breathy pants growing in volume as he pumped into the spot repeatedly.

Diana was deadly close. She could feel the tension building to its highest. Another tension, too, was building inside. Pressing into her pelvis, she felt a weight that ought to be pushed. It felt wrong, like she needed to relieve herself. But something felt so delicious.

She was at her peak, pressing down into the pleasure. Sensing this, Papa moved his tongue lightening fast on her bud, pushing onto the spot with force. The lewd sounds of her wetness along with her own moans tipped her, she began to shake as the weight of her orgasm came down upon her. As she pushed, she felt a sudden relief.

Papa wore her orgasm, now covered in her release. He felt a white hot fire in his veins. Regardless of medication, he was sure ready now, unable to deny himself any longer.

Her body rocked as Papa stood up, making quick work of his belt and undergarments. Quickly gathering some of her release, he coated his cock in her. He lined himself up to her entrance and began a brutal pace of thrusting into her.

Diana was overwhelmed by the sudden entrance, still reeling from her orgasm. It was past threatening overstimulation, she was fully overwhelmed by him. She laid back onto his desk, as Papa maintained.

"Take it, now, cara." He growled. "Take it all."

Her muscles still contracted around him, squeezing him deliciously. His breaths were failing him, he would not last long seeing her in this state.

Diana, somehow conscious, wrapped her legs around his waist, to allow him deeper access. Her hips picked up a counter - half fighting, half chasing. She could feel herself being worked up again, so soon.

“Fuck, Diana, you are so tight. Just like that, Sister.” His hips began to stutter, his pace uneven. He was close. Sensing this, Diana closed her walls around him. His pace nearly stopped as she could feel his warm release spilling into her. He continued to fuck her through his orgasm, letting her chase a second. Reaching a crest, Diana felt another release around him.

His hips stilled and he moved his hands to her back to pull her into his embrace. There they remained in sweet bliss, just the sounds of the breaths filling the room. The warmth of their bodies, still united. Papa traced small circles on her back, as Diana turned to face him.

She smiled as she saw him. He tucked her fallen hair behind her ear to fully see her sweet face. He brought her close for a tender kiss.

“Hi, Papa.” She nearly giggled.

“Ciao, Diana.”

“You stole Viagra.” She sneered, loving and teasing.

“I, eh, am not the man I used to be.”

“I think the last fifteen minutes proves that wrong.”

“Aha! You flatter me.”

“Papa, it doesn’t make you less of a man. It just happens, love, you can’t do anything about it.” Her hands cupped his face, thumbs gently stroking his cheeks. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you.” Smile falling, weighing the seriousness of her voice.

“No, no, no. I knew someone would catch me eventually. I should not have done it. But! I could not help but love the chase. What if I were to get caught by a beautiful Sister? I would have to have her then and there in that shitty little closet.”

“There’s always next time, Papa.” She laughed.

His cock kicked inside her, growing again. Her eyes widened, looking down where they were still joined, back at his eyes.

“Oh, Sister, I spare no expense on the dick pills. Next time is now, baby.”

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frosthidden · 3 months ago

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ALICE + ADDICTION

i've been thinking a lot about alice's addiction issues recently so here are some of those thoughts, obviously heed the trigger warnings in the tags. i am trying to treat this subject with the respect and caution it needs.

there's no other way to put it. alice is an addict and has been for a long time. it's something she's aware of, and she's not proud of it, but she's not putting in any real effort to change either. it started with trying to push through being unmedicated for mental health issues and neurodivergence. alice started smoking weed when she was fourteen to escape her shitty home life and used caffeine to treat her unmedicated adhd. that worked and it helped, and she stuck with that until she graduated high school.

when she graduated high school, she graduated to the harder stuff. she tried coke for the first time while she was working at the gas station to pay for her van build. at low doses she experienced the same effects caffeine gave her for managing her adhd, at higher doses she got higher. she couldn't afford it at the time though so she stayed with her previous "treatments".

once her van got built and she had a slightly higher paying gig, alice was able to get her hands on coke. she started using that in conjunction with her coffee. she developed a way of using she believed essentially kept her stable. because she was rarely seeking out actually getting high, just being functional, she thought she was okay and wouldn't have called it a problem at the time.

she doesn't like needles very much which luckily has kept her away from anything that has to be injected into her bloodstream. but over time and with more exposure to the criminal underbelly of the city she lives in she's tried other drugs (mostly pills, and whatever frenchie has on hand).

certainly considering a drug dealer her best friend has contributed to her problem, but i think it's had both positive and negative impacts. because of frenchie's access, she's been able to get actual medications to treat her bipolar 2. she takes anti-psychotic medications, but continues her cocktail of other drugs.

she's been pretty isolated since she left home up until she officially started helping the boys out. she didn't have a support system at all, nor would she have known where to seek one out. she knew she had a problem for a long time but she didn't have anyone around to tell her nor any motivation to change her ways. for a long time, she didn't care if she lived or died. she lived one day at a time doing her jobs, staying off the radar and doing whatever else she wanted.

when people started showing up in her life worried about her (hughie, annie, mm to a much lesser degree) that was when she started having trouble keeping going. she didn't really know what it felt like to have people notice anything about her health. it made her paranoid at first that they'd notice she was hiding things from them (being a supe), and made her withdraw from them at first. she came around to them caring, to the idea that people would still try and help her even when she pushed them away. she wasn't dead already.

she's slowed down her using, but she hasn't stopped either. in the time from season 1 to genv season 1, alice did manage to get her shit together. she was really doing alright with moderate to minimal drug usage. before she want to godolkin, she significantly reduced how much she used in a day. when she realized that dealing drugs at parties got her a lot of access and insight into godu that butcher wanted, she started sampling her own supply. she wasn't proud of any of it, but it did the trick. she went on a bender immediately after leaving godu. major backsliding.

alice does drink, but she's never been as into drinking as most people. she saw what alcohol did to her dad, and somehow that registered as worse than how she interacted with her drug use. she's not the kind of person that regularly drinks to get drunk and blackout.

she has hope now, and that's what's different for her. she's not clean yet, but she has something to look forward to. she's also not hiding anything anymore. she doesn't feel like she's fighting her body and mind. she's learning to work with it, to treat it with care and dignity instead of abusing it. she will most likely experience side effects of prolonged drug use for a long time. what she doesn't know is that her body, the way her powers and the compound v in her system interact with the substances she uses is staving off some of the side effects. her aging is slightly slowed and the way the chemicals in her body interact with the foreign chemicals is keeping some of the worst of it at bay for now.

#addiction tw #drug use tw #alcohol tw #a wealth of wasted ability . . . [ META & COMMENTARY ]*

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yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit · 7 months ago

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The great sleep experiment of 2024, 3.5 days -ish past "fuck it"

Well... 10 until 2 right?

Best sleep I ever got. Neighbours weren't blasting anything. Nothing was exploding, cat was quiet, didn't have any night terrors, paralysis or 'seizure like' symptoms.

I feel rested.

My night sleep shift is fucked though.

And I assure you I am approaching them both the exact same way.

The difference is my brain cooperates with getting sleepy at a consistent -ish time if I am sleeping during the day, but not at night.

I have slightly more caffeine in the mornings, so I tried having a bit more caffeine at night... no deal.

I have stuff I am supposed to be doing during the day, so in case this tied in to demand avoidance, I assigned myself a list of quiet tasks to do at nights... No dice.

I'm not taking melatonin during the day but I did try taking it at night. No bueno.

But I want to invite everyone here to imagine what it is like having a body/brain that does this while trying to maintain gainful employment, go to school, or even do light shift work.

Step one. Your first week of sleep after a massive non-sleeping crisis is great. Work is going fine.

Then you start to get insomnia at night or wake up constantly due to various kinds of sleep distress. You start getting really convincing nightmares and the feeling of being paralyzed or lifted with what should be distressing imagery often when you are about to wake up or when you are trying to sleep. But you still have to get up in the morning and go to work. Your lack of emotional reaction to the sleep imagery doesn't really change that it's nightmarish.

All day you get sleepiness spells that are nearly impossible to force yourself awake through, but you do and you get horrible splitting migraines from it. Employers don't like workers who are asleep on their feet -literally- or are in too much blinding pain to function. They tell you to "get some sleep" tonight.

You get home and you are exhausted, angry, but too exhausted to care, so you lay down and... Your brain won't sleep. Won't do it. You spend another week sleeping 2 hours a night at most and trying your hardest to fake being awake and not in pain during the day. You are already up to 8 extra strength advil daily, and the air quality in their building is giving you low-key asthma attacks, but never mind that.

They say shit to you like "HoPe YoU gOt GoOd SlEeP lAsT nIgHt :DDD XD"

And to your credit, you do not immediately choke them to death with your hands. This is hard for a human this sleep deprived.

You become progressively more sleep deprived and pretending not to be possibly actually insane from sleep deprivation through the week until the weekend when you can spend all your spare time sleeping all day. You curse your continued lack of ability to sleep at night unless it is sandwiched by sleeping all day on at least the front side. You do not have time to do chores or hobbies.

This carries on for long enough that you go to a doctor about it, because no sleeping pill you could buy in a store did anything and melatonin does almost nothing and makes your dreams really vivid. Abusing allergy meds or alcohol to any reasonable degree to sleep also doesn't work.

Anything to do with sleep or mood stabilizing your doctor can prescribe, your body seems to metabolize so quickly it mimics the symptoms of having crushed and snorted it, and you stop being able to sleep more than 2 hours a day no matter when you sleep. You have to stop taking the meds when you start to fear actual breaks with reality from a lack of sleep.

The more you bring this up to your doctor and the more the meds don't work, the more they treat you like you are irrational, drug seeking, etc, start telling you it must be stress related, or depression, and the more they start focusing on how you might be insane in some way, instead of addressing your escalating physical health problems [which existed before and after this, and are besides the point right now, but are numerous and distressing].

Between this, chronic bladder infections, and having to pee too much you are constantly being threatened with being fired by your manager and by HR. Your manager is trying to pressure you into working extra hours so the 'team' can have pizza day at the end of the week. You refuse overtime and no one likes you. You go home and your boyfriend still doesn't have his own job, still won't even do the dishes, hasn't cooked anything or done laundry, etc... is playing videogames where you left him. He's very convincingly depressed so you don't want to nag him about it, but even polite reminders to pitch in make him look despondent. He also won't go to a doctor. Your savings are slowly vanishing to feed both of you. You have 7+ other undiagnosed disabilities and work at a call center all day. If you bring this up in front of your friends they call you a nag and say he looks 'hen pecked'. You need better friends. You cannot argue reasonably to a doctor you aren't stressed, depressed, or anxious, but like... None of their meds or suggestions DO anything.

This keeps up for 2.5 years until they give you your 1 year pin, because for 2 years they just didn't bother fighting about the back-order and you didn't seem to care.

You get onto 4X10 shifts so that you have 3 days a week to sleep. You make it work. You have no savings left from before your 'husband/boyfriend' moved in, but your rent is paid and you have food. Your house is a mess and if anyone sees it or you bring it up, they ask you if your 'legs are broken' and refuse to hear that you work 10 hours a day and your boyfriend does nothing. You need better friends, but you are too sleep deprived to think or care.

Your 'boyfriend' finally gets into a school program to make up work and get his highschool diploma. It seems good for him. He makes friends. His friends either avoid you or are really rude to your face and later apologize that they were just jealous of your relationship???? He graduates and starts looking for work... He's looking for work... He's...

You start having very vivid half waking dreams about demons trying to possess and attack you and your 'boyfriend'. You do a few things that are half-way between a spell and some kind of meditation to get the dreams to stop. It works so you keep doing it. [I often forget this happened at all but forgive me I was very sleep deprived at the time] Everyone is side-eyeing you for being a "crazy nag" or whatever, despite that you never even raise your tone, but you can sleep a little bit here and there so you don't care much. You haven't had the energy to care about anything in years.

He gets a job for a hot minute before he's fired for being "too competent to work here"... And you learn you can get him to pitch in just a little with dishes if you remind him regularly that a clean kitchen means you can make apple pies.

You get a migraine that lasts literally over a month solid. The call center is still harassing you about how fired you are going to be. They never accepted any of the doctors notes you got about needing to pee so your bladder didn't tear or to keep you from having chronic bladder infections that were starting to impact your kidneys. You are still ignoring your 7+ other disabilities that are each on their own a reason you shouldn't be working, because you are too sleep deprived to realize there's a real problem here and everyone else in your life is happy to just act like all of this is your fault and on you to fix. You are angry and know they are wrong, but what the fuck are you going to do about it, you need to be at work in 10 minutes and you are the one paying rent.

After the first week of the solid migraine, and multiple threats that they will sue you if you don't either quit or come in for work, you quit. You quit because you know if you don't you will go to prison for murder. You know it -in your bones- that the next manager to get in your face is getting blitz attacked by the most mild mannered and quiet person they ever met in their lives, especially if it's that one who's a horrid cunt to you ever since finding out you were born in November because she hates 'Scorpios'. You are, by the way, no longer that mild-mannered person. This migraine that will keep you on the floor in tears for another 3 weeks is -in fact- them dying. You don't know that yet.

The hospital treats you like you are drug seeking and won't scan anything or do any tests. At least you don't have to work.

You are finally able to sleep. You sleep whenever you can and it is so so so fucking good. Sleep. sweet fuckign my love sleep. yes.

You have bills to pay and an unemployed 'boyfriend' but the reason he lives with you is so he doesn't have to live with his abusive uncle and grandmother. He won't stand up and be independent, so you don't have the heart to kick him out. He is by all accounts a sweet guy. You aren't sure he remembers your name, but as anyone around you will remind you, he's really depressed :( and looks really put-upon >:( . He gets annoyed with you for being loud in public or any time you seem a bit manic, and won't say shit when his family members or your friends start saying how all this is your responsibility to fix. He doesn't have conversations with you where he doesn't shut down and just keep saying "yeah babe"... You try to tell him he might be gay or asexual or just not like you personally because he doesn't seem romantically or sexually interested in you at all, but he's insistent on being in this relationship anyway. At least he isn't ever pressuring you for attention or sex, so you let it lay.

You have bills to pay and no savings. You had thousands in savings from your first food service job, but they are gone now.

You go to welfare and you explain all the problems and how they won't let you have the EI you paid into because technically they forced you into quitting. You look really pathetic and earnest and are only 22 -ish, so the nice lady there lets you on while you 'wait to be approved for disability' which will take over 10 years, but at least doesn't make you job search in that time due to your sun allergy. Now your rent and bills are *mostly* covered and you get about 200/mo for food. :)

Your 'husbands' father gets clean, he was always the nice parent, his mom is on appropriate pain management now too, he won't have to live with his abusive shitty uncle and raving asshole grandmother. You kick him out because living with you only makes him miserable about the world and himself 24/7 and he won't leave or talk to you about it. All he does is nod and quietly go. All your mutual friends now see you as the bad guy except the ones who are -very actively- trying to convince you to fuck them.

Without him there you are no longer getting enough from welfare to afford rent and have to move in with the first of a long chain of abusive ex's kicking off your adult life of cycles of abuse and having to move again and lose all your friends on repeat.

Being unemployed and able to sleep, you start to figure out that missing sleep was only ONE of MANY reasons you are exhausted all day long and you will spend the next 10+ years peeling back the curtain of each one to find that the brick wall behind it all is CFS. I mean it's 50 other things but also under it all is still the CFS.

Now the only pressure to sleep at night is being able to make doctors appointments, do groceries and have a 'social life' [?]. It continues to be equally impossible and equally untreatable. You lose friends sometimes just over the fact that you can't predict when you are going to be awake or fall asleep. The only people who maintain social relationships with you are the guys trying to convince you to fuck them.

You get relatively good at manipulating your sleep problems to let you sleep between 4 and 16 hours around being as productive as anyone could ever expect you to be, while you are left to take care of any household you move into. Because everyone else refuses to clean or handle repairs or calls to the landlord more timely than you can as a VERY disabled person. You are hyper-competent as they come though so you handle it and that's why people keep you around.

Then Corona sweeps over the world.

Now there are certain times of day where virus levels are going to be at their lowest and thus most safe-adjacent. Your life might depend on only going to businesses right at opening before the viral load in the air reaches in infectious threshold. You are in your 30's now, btw.

You have been sleeping so 'good' if irregularly for so many years you keep forgetting the HELL that opens up and swallows you when you try to force yourself onto a regular schedule.

You are 36. You have forgotten what -school- was like, or how by the end of it you were sleeping less than 2 hours a night and punching plaster walls in the basement where you could only hurt your own fist because a doctor -you snuck out of school to go see- tried to put you on the WRONG medication [you had to sneak out because your step mother wouldn't let you see a doctor, and once you had prescriptions you new nickname was 'pill popper' to her]. You have never even genuinely threatened violence to another person in your entire life.... BTW.

You have forgotten about the night terrors, and the worst of the 'seizure-like' symptoms that you are sure is actually seizures but your doctor won't concede to because it doesn't respond to the pills they get paid to prescribe for that, and the 'narcolepsy-like' symptoms that your doctor won't diagnose you about for the same reasons... "if it was that it would respond to this treatment at least a little :)"... You have forgotten about the 'spiders' that swim in the corner of your vision when you are awake too long, and mostly about how when you are kept awake too long you start hearing people calling your name like your parents used to from the floor above your head... You mostly forget all of that.

And you see and read study after study about how good and important and NECESSARY regular sleep is to your very survival... And you think "maybe it wasn't that bad or that hard to be on a regular schedule"...

And then you make some stupid decision, stupid the likes of "I haven't been depressed/had dandruff in YEARS why am I still on this stupid medication for it ha ha :)"...

And you try to force yourself onto a regular sleep schedule, at night and everything. Like an idiot.

You act surprised when the insomnia, night terrors, waking and falling asleep hallucinations all come back, and when the narcolepsy and seizure "like" symptoms start escalating again.

"But regular sleep is so good for you and 'necessary for your sanity and survival' no one is a sPeCiAl ExCePtIoN sWeAtY XD you must not be trying hard enough"

... And then you fumble the love of your life in what could have been a sex dream, when you could have made love to him, and had it feel real, when he 'rescued' you from a night terror/sleep paralysis thing... because you were too tired and scared to think straight.

T~T [come back I am so sorry]

And then your neighbours who make complaints to the landlord about the sounds of you cleaning your apartment, and run the hot water whenever you try to shower, start blasting dance music from 7 till midnight on random nights and setting off small explosives beside the one window you have that you can open for fresh air that happens to be next to your bed, up until fucking 12 midnight.

The fuck

And you have -for the record- still not murdered anyone about it.

You haven't even done a violence or a threat.

Last you checked you are 'the bad guy' and also 'failing on purpose' but you haven't actually physically hurt or threatened anyone yet...

But yeah, I like slept great from 10-2 today and Pumpkin was so good and polite the whole time.

I started blending up the gravy food he likes because he just kept licking off all the gravy and leaving the meat chunks and wouldn't touch the pate, and then screaming at me all hours because he was hungry but didn't want his kibble... So spoiled.

But like, ask me how I feel, tonight when I can't sleep, about the sentiment "It should be legal to feed people who set off illegal fireworks next to your bed at night when you are sleep deprived to your cat to keep him quiet." [This is a joke, my willingness to maim people is reserved for anyone trying to put their dick in me against my will]

Maybe if I complain about it enough the universe will want to make me look like a lair and hand me regular sleep like I was capable of it all along.

Idk, but for science reasons I will keep trying, keep documenting the problems, and keep complaining, in hopes that maybe medical professionals might see this, take it seriously and understand yet another way in which afab patients are commonly horridly neglected, under diagnosed, and under served. I genuinely have been told by doctors that the sleeping pills don't work on me because I am not "trying hard enough"... sir?

I literally have tried every meditation and way of drugging myself to sleep that I can legally get a hold of and literally have to fight demons to stay on a sleep schedule... Like have you MET the desperation of a sleep deprived person just trying to get a night of sleep!?!?!?!?!?!? but okay.

This has to be a diagnosable condition that they just haven't fully grasped yet, mostly due to not believing their patients. I cannot be the only one. I am not -in fact- under the impression I am a special snowflake.

But if you have ever wondered why i seem to be on here at completely random times that are constantly shifting... This is why.

I say "ooh I am going to stay up" and then I vanish, this is why.

I say "T~T it is my beddy-by timey" and then I am on here for 12 hours straight, this is why.

The problem is that you cannot physically force yourself unconscious without repeated head injury, and there's only so much you can force yourself awake when your body really wants to be asleep, so there's really only so much I can do.

Sleep is something most people just -do- automatically at regular intervals without having to interrogate it, so it's really alienating to them to try to imagine their brain simply not working that way. To them it is akin to breathing, so they have no empathy, no ability to imagine a life, for a person who doesn't have the neurological hard-wiring to breathe automatically. To most people it is just such an automatic function that they imagine you have to be doing something to fight it in order to have it not work right. They imagine you must bee staying up late to do hobbies semi intentionally, or be having caffeine irresponsibly, or or or...

"sOmEbOdY wOlD hAvE nOtIcEd By NoW iF tHiS wAs NaTuRaL tO yOu!!11" say my doctors... Because my mother's observations that she couldn't keep me awake to eat properly or get me to sleep at night mean nothing to them.

I'm fine. I slept fine today and I am in a good mood and I am well rested.

I just... even if you ignore the 7-10 other disabilities that I have managed to get diagnosed by now, this ALONE would have kept me from staying employed and makes societal expectations antithetical to my existence, and my doctors can't or won't even diagnose it or give it a name. My official diagnosis for disability had to focus on the migraines I get by forcing myself awake.

I am pretty sure this is actually a complicated sleep disorder overlapping with my chemical sensitivity and autoimmune shit and not simple "chronic migraine" but whatever

I just want the general public to understand that some people have to live with shit like this, and how maybe it stacks with other problems -like sexism- to make your life a living hell with literal demons and everything.

But I can't help but feel I am one of the lucky ones who doesn't have full on hallucinations when I am awake and out of bed, and doesn't hear voices until hour 20 of no sleep [which is pretty normal actually].

I can solve most of these problems entirely by just sleeping on a random schedule, and sleeping a bit extra, and I can't help but wonder if the reason I am not diagnosed is that other people with this condition, whatever it actually is, are on drugs to keep them awake/asleep, and then more drugs to combat the resulting hallucinations and pain, and then have their autonomy taken away to try to force them onto a regular sleeping schedule under the assumption that regular sleep will help them instead of being what is causing all their problems in the first place.

Is this yet another instance of "Well turns out you have another semi-common disorder but your symptoms are so unique for that condition that we can't treat it and you actually aren't suffering badly enough for us to think any treatment or intervention is necessary." like so many of my existing diagnosed conditions.

Zero professional curiosity about what underlying condition or mutation is causing all of this or all of it to be so "uniquely expressed" btw...

The bottom line is that if I don't have to work and can sleep when I need to all these symptoms either disappear or are mild enough I can ignore them.

I just wonder how many people are being denied that autonomy and self-management under the societal drive to force them into living like 'normal' people. If I was forced by doctors into drugging myself into both sleeping and being awake and that resulted in actively hallucinating, would they just diagnose me with a psychotic disorder, take away my autonomy and call it a day? Is doctors not taking me seriously when I describe my symptoms the only thing that saved me from that? How many other people would benefit from less pressure to conform to 'normal' and thus be able to live 80% more 'normal' lives?

How much research have we put into sleeping and waking disorders? or disorders that come with seizures or hallucinations or disruptions in sleeping and waking states? How much of it wasn't plagued with denying the patient their autonomy, the ability to seek outside help, their basic rights and their humanity?

I know they all have a higher comorbidity with autism. I know that, but how well do we understand the relationship between neurology, sleep cycles and abnormal sleep/wake events? I am convinced it is not very well.

Also like... When I try to tell people that even though I don't regularly experience hallucinations, or night terrors or sleep paralysis etc... I still have plenty good occasion to understand what they are talking about on some level, because it has happened to me before... or when I compare hallucinating to a waking dream-like state in my own experiences... THIS is why. Every time I talk to someone else who gets sleep paralysis or hallucinates mildly, or has narcolepsy... They take one look at the fact they haven't seen me experience a symptom in the time they have known me, and the fact that I am unmedicated, and don't seem distressed about it, and they decide I am making it up. Every time. Right before they decide I must be a horrible person who would make up being able to relate to what they are saying just for social approval or some shit they should know I don't care about. Like the reason why I experience these things but am not distressed by them is because I manage my symptoms well and at no point have ever thought any of it was 'real', not because these things don't happen to me sometimes. And yes, the only thing between me and experiencing these things to a point of absolute distress, is the fact that I don't work and can sleep when I need to. I'm not out here trying to tell them how to manage themselves I am out here just nodding and saying 'yeah I know that can suck, this is my experience of it, it sucks.'

That is also why I am letting half my sleep schedule shift to a daytime slot. The point of this is to test the water and see where it goes, yes, but not to have a sleep deprivation induced episode that ruins my life or gets me on the news. Everyone in the world slowly goes insane if they don't get enough sleep. We know that. I am not about to do that to myself in the name of only sleeping at "appropriate hours U.U" and that's kind of the whole point of contention I have always had with the world.

Everyone is under the impression that if I'd -just- force myself awake during the day, I'd be tired enough to sleep at "appropriate times XD" and won't believe me when I tell them just how much it doesn't work like that.

I am going to keep trying to sleep at night, and keep documenting how that goes for me, but like... I can tell you from my lived experiences that the chances of my body ever "getting used" to sleeping at night for 8 hours is uh... Pretty much zero. hasn't happened in 36 years under any circumstances, so...

I think some people are just genetically programmed to be the "night watch" I think this is healthy human variance, and I think we do everyone with that hard-wiring a systemic abuse by acting like it's an aberration that needs to be fixed.

#child abuse #neglect #rape mention #long post #medical neglect #abuse #the great regular sleep experiment of 2024 #I promise I won't actually resort to violence #please let me make vent jokes about it without ending up on a list #If I was going to hurt someone I would have by now

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imkattymae · 10 months ago

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Travel: Fighting jet lag.

If I look back at all the trips I’ve taken overseas, the only time I ever recall being excited is when I finally try to get to sleep the night before - I’m hopeless. It’s like my brain flicks on ‘stay awake’ mode just before I know I need to get to sleep because I have to wake up early for a flight. It’s both frustrating and very annoying! Not to mention that I’m worried about feeling jet lagged and really tired.

It’s funny; I can wake up early in the morning and be really tired but can still last the day without falling asleep.

I must say, I don’t think I’d never actually experience jet lag until I travelled on multiple flights last year over five months.

First... what is it?

Jet lag is medically referred to as desynchronises, it's a physiological condition which results from alterations to the body's circadian rhythms resulting from rapid long-distance trans meridian (east–west or west–east) travel on a jet airplane. (Wikipedia)

In regards to symptoms, apparently everyone reacts differently. If you are traveling look out for these:

Headaches, Fatigue, irregular sleeping patterns, insomnia, disorientation, mild depression

It’s said that jet lag isn’t caused by crossing the International Date Line or the length of the flight, its affected more when traveling across a number of time zones which your body clock is not in sync with, and the rhythms are different from your natural body pattern. It also depends on how quickly your body adjusts to these new schedules, so the fact that I’ve never felt like I have been affected may just be because my body adjusted quicker than most people – thank god! Sometimes I wonder if it’s more a state of mind than anything else, and people overthink it too much. But I agree with my friend, I think it’s all about common sense.

If you have experienced jet lag before and often do, here are some tips that I have found from fellow traveler blogs and friends.

Tips to help you fight Jet Lag

Avoid overeating and caffeine

OK, like me I can’t usually go a day without a cup of coffee or tea so this one is a tricky one for those who do drink a lot of caffeine. Caffeine does keep you up and awake longer, so it will be harder to try fall asleep and reduces your sleep time.

2. Don’t eat too much on the plane

I do think this should depend on how hungry you are and how long the flight is - you do have to eat. But if you do get hungry often during the flight, try and eat snacks and keep in mind that airline food is cooked at least twice because it’s almost impossible to maintain moisture at altitude.

3. Stay hydrated

The plane can get really dry and with the circulating air – quite annoying, trust me – that is why I don’t wear my contact lenses on the plane anymore. So it is important to stay hydrating during the flight, you might even want to bring a hydrating spray for our face, and moisturizer.

4. Try to avoid sleeping as soon as you arrive to your hotel

This can really push your body clock, so try and stay up until it’s actually the time to sleep at your destination. If you are really tired from traveling, take a nap – 20 minutes at most but be careful it doesn’t turn into a 3 hour one. I find that I don’t sleep straight away, even if I arrive at 8am in the morning– you have to let your body adjust to the local time so sleeping at the right time is key!

5. Limit alcohol intake on the plane

Alcohol can actually worsen the symptoms of jet lag, so try and avoid too much alcohol. If you feel that having a scotch or wine helps you sleep then that’s fine but remember alcohol can also dry you out and its worse when the cabin air dehydrates everyone – not to mention the effects of alcohol when the altitude changes. Did you know that one drink in mid-flight is the same as two or three on the ground! (I didn't know that lol)

If you really are worried, you can try taking pills like ‘No Jet Lag’ pills on Amazon.

Do you have any tips?

#travel #tips #imkattymaeblog

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orphancookie69 · 10 months ago

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Migraine Remedies 101

I recently posted about Red Light Therapy, but that is not the first light for me to try this out with-I also have been using a Green Light one for Migraines. I realized I did not have a post about Migraines, and I needed to right that wrong right away.

My Background:

I like to start with my background on these kinds of posts. I am 32 years young when I write this post. My grandmother, on my mothers side, has bad migraines. Her mom? In the early 1900's she had them worse, and medicine was far less advanced than it was now. Great Grandma had them, Grandma has them, mom has them-the writing for that trait was on the wall for me. The thing is, they should of started in my 20's or 30's. When did they start? When I was 2 or 3, how? I was sick from something, not sure as early parts of my story are lost to me, and my mom decided to give me a spinal tap to determine the cause. I was told, that she was told not to put a pillow under my head the night of the procedure, and she thought I looked uncomfortable so she went against that. I have dealt with migraines on a daily ish basis since I was 3 years old.

Growing up, my father has a steady job with the union so anytime we needed to go the doctor, we could. At one point, I saw a neurologist and he told me to try watching my sleep, caffeine, and diet/food allergies. Beyond that, which I still use to this day-my great grandma's remedies have been way more helpful. There are some doctors that I talk to about what I do and use, and they tell me they are JUST NOW teaching it in medical school. So I know what I am talking about.

Where Matters:

I wish I could of found a better visual for this, but location of the pain will tell you a lot in how you handle it. Keeping your triggers in mind, attack your pain with an informed strategy.

Remedies:

Sleep: Keep a consistent sleep schedule, and wind down before bed with no electronics

Caffeine: Try watch how much you have. You can try a caffeine pill, but there are some foods that have it too.

Diet: I watch what I eat in general but I also avoid MSG, Yellow #40, Red#40, and Blue#40.

Vitamins: D3 and Coq10 are prenatal vitamins that are also great migraine prevention. I had way less migraines when pregnant, however brief.

Ice: Ice pack on the location of the pain spot. I would always suggest wrapping the ice pack in a rag.

Migraine Glasses: This is kind of new, the eyes of someone who has migraines tends to work harder to be "normal" and focus so there are lenses that have the eye work less. Otherwise in general, glasses that help with the blue light glare of electronics helps eyes. One of the worst symptoms of migraines is light sensitivity.

Massage: Gently with fingers or a small machine, bringing blood flow to the area helps the body to heal itself.

Darkness/Nap: Your body can heal itself if you let it shut down other functions and focus on the task at hand.

Relax: Hard to imagine you can do when it seems like your head is pounding, but the sooner you can do it, the better you will be.

Green Light Therapy: You can find this on Amazon. I find this to be very helpful. It is better if you use it more often, not just when its really bad.

Medicine: General migraine medicine usually can do the trip, but if it is hormonal then you need a premysn (or something like that). Sinus issues? Take a sinus med, its a sinus headache. Medicine is a last resort, one I will use to stay productive or avoid the ER.

I might try Foot Reflexology one time as a possible remedy. Cupping or acupuncture could be good too, but I am not the person to do that. I have heard of Botox helping? But have never done that. I hope this helps! What would you add to this list?

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jabroni-apologist · 2 years ago

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The health Inspector

Ethan Taylor

5-19-14

The snow came down in soft flurries all around him as he walked.

“It’s cold as an angry stare out here; I should have taken the Stanza, even if the place is only a few blocks from home”

Toronto was often caked with ice this time of year, and tonight was no exception. Tall buildings rose to either side of him and the only indication of the road under the white sheet was the small contrast of height between it and the blanket on the sidewalk. The road was well lit however, street lamps as far as the eye could see. The street was empty, save for the occasional car ripping dangerously fast through the frost. Nick held up the damp sheet of paper to the light.

“This is the right address,” he thought.

He flipped out his badge and rapped loudly on the door. After what seemed like an eternity the door flew open, standing at the doorway was a man who could not have been more than 4 feet tall. He had squinty eyes, fat cheeks, and a monstrous looking jet black toupee. Nick flashed him the card.

“Health inspector!” he said in a rather jovial but still official sounding tone.

“Oh good you're finally here,” the little man said in a startlingly deep voice.

“My name’s Toby, Please come in.”

Nick Followed the little man into his apartment and closed the door behind him. The interior was typically ratty for that part of the city. Slightly cracked walls, horrid wallpaper from forty years ago, and the faint smell of smoke and loneliness. Toby hobbled over to a medieval-looking kettle and poured what Nick assumed was a caffeine filled drink of some sort into two brown mugs.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t have a rack for you to hang your things on,” grunted Toby, who looked apologetically over at Nick’s heavy windbreaker and damp Chullo.

“I’m more Concerned that you called at 1:42 in the morning. Please, let’s just get down to business.”

In response the tiny man handed Nick one of the mugs and sat down at the kitchen table, while motioning for Nick to join him.

“So mister eh, Toby, fifteen minutes ago you called my organization to report an infestation.” Nick pronounced the last word like someone referring to an ex Spouse. “You seemed rather frightened, but now you seem content as can be.”

“Yes well,” mumbled Toby. “I’m on some pills my doctor gave me to help relax right now, “but I am still a little scared.”

“Well okay then, are you sure that it wasn’t just the pills then?”

“Quite sure.”

“Alright then,” Nick flipped out his notepad. “What did it look like, if it had a corporeal form?”

It was, well, it looked just like that.” Toby pointed over to what appeared to be a black, angry horned gorilla wielding a glowing dagger. The thing couldn’t have been over a meter tall but it was quite terrifying none the less. It stood on the stairs across the hall and leered at them.

“I seeeee,” Said Nick as he turned away from Toby to look at the beast. “And do you have the faintest idea where it came from?”

“Yes I summoned it myself.”

“Then I’m afraid you called the wrong people sir, my firm deals with incidental things, hauntings and the like, Or home invasions. You would want the summoner’s Guild for something like this, but as I’m here already I’ll help you this time. Now if I could just see your magic license and summoning permit we will be in busineeeeeeee.” Nick felt the world grow fuzzy around him as the poison in the tea began to take hold. “Funny,” he thought,`` I thought caffeine was supposed to wake you up.”

He expected to wake up in some dingy dungeon of some sort. Instead he awoke on a squishy couch in the room adjacent to the room he was just in. He was tied up, but he was still surprised. Across from him sat Toby and the daemon. Toby had given a brown mug to the gorilla thing and it slurped loudly, never taking its eyes off of him. He also noticed the fact that he had been stripped of his badge, gun, and various and sundry magic items on his person. He squirmed a little but found that either Tony or his minion could tie a mean knot.

“So you're awake.” jeered the little man. “The poison was just some cleaning stuff I found under the sink so you should be fully back to your senses, So how are we feeling Mr. exterminator?“

Despite the circumstances Nick couldn't help but be insulted.

“SIR,” he exclaimed “I am by no stretch of the imagination an exterminator!”

“You kill pests for a living,” Toby said wryly “I think that makes you an exterminator.”

No sir, in fact I am a pacifist! You can’t kill a ghost or elemental, only send them back to where they came from. And you call yourself a conjuror!”

“You know, this isn’t really relevant to why I bushwhacked you.”

“oh.” replied Nick, “So why did you give me the old thrice over?”

“Well you see my good inspector,” he made a point of gesturing when he said the word inspector. I am not a harmless old dwarf man, I am in fact only possessing one. This old fool made the mistake of not sealing the pentagram correctly when he summoned Flub-naz the Terrible over here,” Nick took a moment to look over at the other monster still slurping coffee and leering at him. “So while he was trying to give a job to my buddy over there I saw what was happening from the immaterium and hopped right inside.” He managed to fight me off long enough to call you but i beat his personality back eventually.``

“Ah so you’re illegal immigrants then?” Asked Nick.

Getting a visa to the physical plane was notoriously hard, but if you got enough recommendations helping wizards it made things a lot easier.

“Trying to get in over the border the easy way eh?! I don't blame you, being made of carbon and being able to sleep is pretty awesome. But you really shouldn't break the law.”

“Yes well… It’s been fun talking to someone who can actually vocalizes words unlike this palooka,” Toby pointed at Flub-naz who had by this point run out of coffee and was contently munching on the brown mug. “But now we have to kill you now”

Hearing this, Flub-naz finished eating his mug and started licking his chops and rubbing his hands maliciously.

“Can’t you just wipe my memory or something?” Appealed Nick.

“Well I wanted to let you live,” Replied the possessed wizard. “That's why we didn’t kill you right off the bat. But Flub-naz is getting hungry, and if it wasn't you it would be me.

“One last thing before I go,” said Nick with far too much confidence for someone about to be ripped limb from limb. “You're pretty young for a daemon are you not?”

“Why, yes I'm only three...hundred, but why are those your last words?”

Nick let out a rather humongous smirk. “Because most daemons know that we generally work in twos.”

Right on cue, Nick felt a surge of energy course through his body. Violet light blurred the edge of his vision and his restraints snapped beneath him. Before either of the creatures could do anything, Nick socked Flub-naz across the jaw with newfound inhuman strength. The Gorilla slumped to the ground, his dagger vanishing as it hit the floor. Reacting unnaturally quick for a man of his build and age, Toby grabbed a large, intimidating 45. Revolver from his back pocket. The gun was polished to a white shine with a black ivory handle. The word ‘Nick’ is just visible carved into it. The whole thing glowed with various blue runes the moment it was drawn. Without hesitating Toby pulled the trigger ‘click’ and again ‘click’ ‘click’. Toby’s look of determination quickly devolved into a mix of confusion and fear. Before delivering an elbow to the little man's gut Nick thanked the powers that be that he didn’t keep his gun loaded. With both foes defeated, Nick felt the otherworldly power ebb. As always it felt horrible and it took a great amount of will not to throw up then and there. An overly dry voice chirped in the back of his head.

“You okay there champ?” and then “So much for the whole pacifist thing.”“Shut up Ed.” coughed Nick to his otherworldly partner.

He retrieved his gun from the unconscious Toby.

“Where do you think they stashed the rest of my stuff?”

He was sore all over, even when you were trained to take it power like that wasn’t meant to go through a mortal coil; Because of His ethereal compatriots influence he would probably have to take the next couple of days off to recuperate. or he would have if he actually had any vacation time saved up. Finding the items in a potted plant in the hall, he quickly called the station to tell them what happened. And while having a long over the phone debate with his boss on when “suitable calling hours” were he made his way back to the living room and chained up the two Daemons with his silver rune coated handcuffs. He Gave a long mournful sigh as he realized how much paperwork this escapade would mean. It was going to be a long day.

Ethan Short Story Collection

I wrote most of these when I was in highschool lol, can't speak to the quality but I figure I would put them up somewhere

Warmachine Short Story: Siege

I’ll always remember that day, the smell of a trench is hard to forget. Dead bodies, pouring rain, wet dirt, and the smell of gunpowder. The screams of the poor bastards as the bombard shells hit them still ring in my mind. The stunned look of the man beside me as the blasting pike ran him through is burnt into me like a cattle brand.

I grew up on the outskirts of Elsinburg, my father was a wealthy scholar type, and Ma stayed home. I was an only child and rather doted on. I was a mousey, short and scrawny boy, I spent a lot of time inside reading, and I was often pushed around by the other kids. We were by no means nobles, but I never went hungry, and I went to the best school in town, life was good. When the Khadorians jumped us, the call for a levy came up. My parents knew if I didn’t show up for the draft they would just come looking around our house and drag me off, so they held me close and sent me off. My mother was sobbing bitterly and I saw my father cover his eyes to hide his tears. I was petrified myself, but somehow my feet carried me to the recruitment office.

I was put with the other boys from my district and hauled into the city proper. I knew most of them, and a few of them were friends; We were terrified, but at least we were pissing ourselves together. Training was woefully short, we didn’t have enough time for a proper regimen. Credit to that old Drill Master though, the crusty Bastard made every minute count. We learned how to shoot, how to march, and how to run someone through with our bayonets. We looked all prim and proper, young pale Ryn purebloods in sharp violet uniforms with silver trim and breastplates. We looked like something on an army recruitment poster. For a while we had some hope, we thought we would beat the Reds back and be home in time for Summerfaire. We didn’t know why the veterans looked right through us when we passed. they didn’t see recruits, they saw more corpses marching off to be torn to ribbons. I understand the look they had in their eyes all too well now.

The army had dug a long series of deep trenches around the south gate of the city. There was no town here, and the few residents of the southern woods had headed for shelter behind the walls weeks ago. They stuck us between two other units in the rear rows. The wall was right at our backs, and I could hear the sharpshooters and cannoneers rushing to their posts up above. The clearing that surrounded the city ended abruptly in thick foliage. It wasn’t any ThorneWall, but it was thick enough that we wouldn’t see the enemy until they opened fire. We were downright twitchy, some of us terrified, some itching to fight; we even had warjacks with us! Two hulking metal giants, a Vanguard and a Sternguard. Their large, green, steam belching forms towering over us. One had a shield and a polearm, the other carried an artillery piece on its shoulder. The whole affair had us so shaken as to be quiet as mice. Some officer from a veteran platoon was shouting orders at the Jacks’ to try and get them to hunker down while some arcanist was chanting something to himself. While It wasn’t the first time seeing it, I’d never witnessed it used in anything outside parlor tricks or enchanting tools. Yellow runes wafted around his body and I saw the walls of barricades we’d thrown up in front of the city stiffen and contract to be harder. If I wasn’t so preoccupied with pissing myself I would have been fascinated.

The tension was palpable, but I felt overall there was an air of defiance. We were well dug in and ready for anything, we were going to turn these invaders away and protect our city and our country! I braced my rifle in my arms and gritted my teeth, Then I heard the first clap of thunder. Morrow damn me if it weren’t that rain that signaled our fates being sealed. The rain itself was benign, not even hard at first. But everything after it started felt like a nightmare.

First came the noise, a slow rumbling punctuated by several heavy thumps. It was so quiet you could barely hear it to start, but it got louder and louder till the thumping suddenly stopped. We saw smoke coming from the tree line and our cannons were given the order to fire. The big guns on the wall let fly. Most just landed in the forest with resounding crashes, but a couple found their mark based on the ear splitting sound of cracking and grinding metal. Before we could celebrate scoring first blood the Reds returned fire. Their mortars were accompanied by a wall of deafening sound. Most fell on the front line. I couldn't tear my eyes away as the forward trenches were riddled with explosions. Even above the fire and the thunder I could still hear their screams. The gore washed upward in a red tide, limbs and broken dying men littered the road I had walked on all my life. Several soldiers in my unit, just boys like me, broke then. Their minds shattered, they began to whimper or tuck their heads beneath them, heedless of the officer’s commands. Noel, a large, foul tempered boy who has picked on me for years was crying like he was three. I had my chest on the trench wall, my knuckles were white from clasping my rifle. Than the order came: “Ready arms!” The other regiments began to form up with their guns cocked and ready. The boys with enough sense to fight joined me on the wall. “Fire when you see red!” The Lieutenant barked at the back line of units. I assumed he meant the foe’s uniforms, for there was plenty of red on the field already.

After several minutes of continued fire, both from our guns and the Khadorian’s, the first wave came. Dozens of soldiers in heavy gray winter coats with light red and bronze armor came shouting and charging out of the woods. Most wielded axes and brutal, stout blunderbusses. Some stood back and fired on us with rifles or rockets. They were the Winterguard, foot soldiers like us. They ranged from gruff, bearded veterans to meek boys like my unit. “FIRE!” We were too far away to aim at properly, so we shot off a volley blindly in their general direction. Squeezing the trigger was much harder than I thought it would be, but it was strangely satisfying. All of the other units in the back fired with us, and I noticed with some relief that many in the front rows did as well. Some thirty enemies must have died to just the first volley, and we knew well how to cycle our gun ranks. But they didn’t even flinch, they just kept coming. Every time I pulled the trigger I did so with more enthusiasm and focus. As they grew closer I began to aim for them, I adjusted for wind and distance just like I was taught. It wasn’t long before It was clear I had ended at least one of them myself. I remembered my grandfather, and how he told me of his days fighting the barbarian Farrow tribes many years ago. He spoke of how, even if they were brutish pig men, the weight of directly ending a thinking creature’s life was crushing to him. But here I was, engaging my fellow humans, and I felt no pain for them. The deaths of my comrades still wakes me at night, but for these Reds I felt nothing. As the volleys rang out my terrified expression became one of gritted teeth and dark contentment.

The rain was coming down harder now, the Autumn shower was giving way to a full on storm, and the gray sky punctuated the grimness of the situation. The fearless conscripts reached the first trench line, and I heard renewed screams as the melee set in. After a brief time it became clear the first line was completely lost, and with that foothold secured, the enemy made their next play. Several Winter Guard teams hefting mortars scrambled out of the trees to reposition, and the horrible clammer from the woods began again with a vengeance. Then suddenly, hulking figures burst from the woods at full sprint. No doubt, these were Khadoran warjacks. They stood twice as tall as our own and belched three times as much steam. They were truly monstrous, their stark red figures dominating the dark field. There were several, about five I should think. Some wielded mounted cannon pieces and axes the size of children. Another had some sort of hammer and an oversized shotgun for a hand. Still another was nothing but a chassis wielding twin pistons for arms. They moved with a speed and struck with an accuracy that seemed totally impossible for their size. Directly behind the red devils I faintly saw a figure. They were dressed all in red, some fancy armor with a smoke stack. They were too far away to make out clearly, but I saw them gesturing casually towards our line as if directing the machines towards their targets. It wasn’t until much later I learned that I had seen a Warcaster in real life. They thundered and ripped their way through the barricades and vaulted across the trenches. Their weapons echoed across the battlefield and brought with them total destruction. The middle rank was punched through in a heartbeat, and men on the wall were turned into paste by the oncoming shells. Pieces of the masonry spewed forth and struck men in the back with sickeningly wet sounds. Our artillery fired, but the beasts were going too quickly to get a bead on.

Then something quite odd happened, over the cacophony of battle I heard a strange chant. A low, humming, thrumming melody that washed over us. Elsinburg is an ancient city, and has long established temples to many deities, Morrow, Menoth, even the trollblood goddess. But I had never heard any choral chant that sounded anything like it. Then I saw them, three arcanists in ornate, velvet robes strode up seemingly from nowhere. I recognized their garb from a history book on the royalty I had read years ago: court wizards. It seems as though the warjacks had stepped upon some magical trap they had previously set. A large hidden series of complex magic circles of sparkling golden runes rose from the center of the field were our line had been punctured. The Arcanists walked forward together, seemingly unafraid of the danger around them. Infact, I could have sworn I saw several rounds that would have ended them stop in mid air and fall to the ground. They waved their hands about in strange and complex motions, they seemed in a trance, I had never seen anyone in such concentration. The Rampaging metal monsters stopped suddenly, dead in their tracks, and lowered their guns. Indeed the entire clearing suddenly grew eerily quiet. For the briefest moment everyone, my young comrades who sobbed as they cowered in fear or shot their rifles, to the men in the middle trenches fighting each other to the death, even the soldiers on both sides bleeding out in the gore soaked dirt, found tranquility. In the midst of such chaos, it was euphoric. Then one man, the captain in charge of the defense of the city, broke the silence: “Concentrate fire on the warjacks!” He bellowed “All together, everything you’ve got!” As one we broke from our stupor while the Khadorians remained where they stood, still stunned. In the trenches in front of ours, I heard the slitting of throats and gauging of bellies as our men took advantage of the dumbfounded enemy. Then we turned on the foe’s warjacks. We rained volleys upon them, and the remaining guns on the wall followed suit. Through the wall of lead, we brought two of them down. The first was the one already struck several times by the artillery on the parapet. Its hull was full of breaches, and that’s what we aimed at. The other was unscathed, but with a clear, unmoving target, the artillery (after hitting the blasted thing half a dozen times between them.) stopped the thing’s legs out from under it.

Then the spell broke, and the rain began to pour down. We were drenched, and standing up to our ankles in mud. As the spell stopped, the arcanists fell to their knees. Clearly that amazing show had cost them their stamina. Before we could take action, the reawakened Khadorian line took their revenge. The brave magicians were torn to shreds were they laid. They became a cloud of red mist as dozens of rounds ripped through them. The remaining red giants sprung back to life to finish their murderous rampage. The horn sounded and our own machines were sent out to fight them. I have been told that warjacks are just a little smarter than a dog; that they are just bright enough to fight and lug supplies. However even a dog could have seen they had no chance. They were half the size of their foes, and it was two to three. Whether it was bravery or blind obedience, the machines did their duty unwaveringly. The Vanguard lunged out with its polearm and scored several hits against the foes. The Sternguard blasted one point blank with its cannon, but the red behemoth it had targeted just shrugged it off. It then lunged at one of the Khadoran warjacks using its weapon as a club. It was caught midway by a backhand from the beast and then quickly fell to several vicious swings of a gigantic ax. The Vanguard was then surrounded on all sides by the three monsters and crushed into pulp. Distracted by the fight and looking on in horror we were too late to notice the enemy charge. They were no winterguard, they carried no firearms to speak of, and instead hefted large pikes tipped with explosive charges. They wore impossibly bulky red plate armor and shields that could turn bullets, and moved like a pack of starving wolves between the trenches. A few fell to our shots, but then the rest were upon us. I thank Morrow for my small stature, for I was all that saved me as the melee set in. I watched as their lances fell upon my unit. People I had known for years, had played with in youth, were torn asunder. I was spattered in gore as the rounds ignited on impact. There was no contest, it was a slaughter. They were killed to a man. Then the knights in red, Iron Fangs they were called, jumped down into the trench and began to stride off to fight the adjacent unit. Unfazed by their own grizzly work. And I was left looking at the mound of flesh that had once been the children of my neighborhood.

For some reason, I didn’t break. I was always a meek boy, and even I thought this sight would end me. Instead, something inside me snapped. I was filled with an unending and bottomless rage. But there was also something else. Something more insidious than animal bloodlust. The feeling was back; that grim, black joy that awakens in the deepest parts of men’s hearts. It was like what I had felt before when I killed for the first time, but ten times more powerful. It felt like the dark goddess herself had reached down from the heavens and given me her terrible strength. Without a word, I tailed the Iron Fangs, my footfalls were silent under the screams of battle and the steps of their armored bodies. Their plate was quite thick, and I was almost certain when I drove my bayonet into the back of the one trailing behind the others it would be in vain. But no, somehow, through sheer hatred or luck, it went through a chink in his back plate and burrowed itself in his spine. He made a noise like a belligerent cat, and attempted to turn and face me. That's when I shot him point blank. The slug must have broken his backbone completely apart. He fell without another word. These knights were no conscripts, and they immediately wheeled on me. Their leader barked some order in their brutish tongue and two of them turned to face me while the rest continued their quick march. I tried to dig my gun from the first man's corpse but it held fast. This was it, it was over now. These two could easily overtake me with their long spears and fresh reserves. I screamed and charged them open handed. As our defenses crumbled and the last line was routeing I lunged, with no plan, no hope, only blind fury. Then everything went black.

When I awoke it was to the sound and heat of a crackling inferno. I lay face up in the mud. My head felt like it had been hit by a gorax. The rain had stopped, and replacing it was the horrific sight of the city on fire. It was so intense I could see the flame from above the battered, abandoned walls. I thought I must be dead, I thought this must be some sort of hell. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me; I think one of them must have hit me over the head with the shaft of his pike, for I would have surely died if they hit me with a blasting tip. I don’t think it was mercy, they just thought they killed me already. I wanted to just lay there, lay there and watch my life and everyone I knew burn. But despite my throbbing head, and the mud that coated my rags, or anything else, I got up, I got up and left. The Khadorians on post no doubt saw me, but I hardly looked a threat let alone a soldier, drenched in filth as I was. I just started walking west, and somehow I didn’t die.

I don’t know if I’ll keep fighting now, if I’ll join with the others in the resistance and regroup, I don’t know if my hatred or my fear is stronger. It’s only been a year now, but I’m ten years older. The country fell in short order except for a couple cities, and we’re relying on our allies for supplies. Truth is I’m scared; not of death or pain, but of that black joy, that shifting vile worm in my heart that grows stronger in battle, the relish I felt as I heard the cracking of bones, and the screams of battle.

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artistfingers · 3 years ago

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There’s one ~silver lining~ of my iPad being broken: I’ve had loads of time to think about my many half-formed undercover phantom au ideas! Since I have no idea when or what will make it to comic form, here’s the lowdown…. AKA, everything that’s been rattling around my brain recently :P

For context: Danny, Sam and Tucker have never met, and nobody knows Danny is Phantom. When Vlad’s newest bit of tech gets Danny stuck in ghost mode (with the rest of his powers on the fritz to boot), he meets Tucker and Sam—who instantly see through his disguise and lend a helping hand. (Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4!!)

So. After that, Danny—no, Phantom—becomes friends with them. It’s exciting! He was invisible at school even before the ghost powers; he was pretty isolated and lonely and being Phantom for the last year hasn’t exactly been a social boon. Kid’s lonely, ok?

But now… two human friends? Who’re his age & share his interests? It’s like a dream come true! If only they weren’t exclusively friends with his ghost self… and if only they didn’t wanna be so involved in his dangerous ghost hunting things…Uhhh. Hm. Could be a problem.

Danny angsts about the danger he’s putting his new friends in, and about not being able to befriend them as a human. He plays with the idea of telling them Everything but that’s… risky to say the least. He’s only known them a few weeks! ugh….!! it’s too much. maybe he should just throw the towel in.

Buuut Sam & Tucker don’t take no for an answer. Especially after they rescue him a third time.

Thus… Phantom friendship shenanigans!!

Sam filched some parts from the Fentonworks Lab when Phantom took them there, and later convinced Tucker to help her build a custom mini ectogun in case of emergency. They didn’t tell Phantom.

Danny is really sentimental about that DP hat he wore when he first met Sam & Tucker. He wore it as Phantom for a while but it got singed in a fight. He still wears it when he hangs out with Tucker & Sam but otherwise keeps it squirreled away for Sentimental Reasons.

“So Phantom, how old are you?” “I’m 15.” “15 now? Or 15 when you died?” “Yes.”

Tucker has a bunch of awful 90s button up shirts, and gives one to Phantom

They aren’t able to convince Sam to wear one too, but they sure do try.

Phantom won’t tell them when he died, so once he starts wearing 90s shirts they start using terrible 90s slang with him

“I am NOT from the 90s!!! They didn’t even SAY that then!!!” “methinks the lady doth protest too much…..home slice” “NOOO!!!”

“Phantom I have an extremely important question. Like, life or death. SHIT is on the LINE here. Are you listening?? I really need to know…. Do ghosts play video games”

The answer may surprise you (no it won’t)

Sam is completely convinced they can ACTUALLY get a good working guess of when Phantom lived and died based on the fact he liked Nasty Burger when he was alive, since NB’s a regional chain with a not-so-distant past. Tucker meanwhile thinks Phantom probably has a good reason for keeping them at arm’s length—but regardless of method, they can agree: they want to break down Phantom’s walls.

The next arc is less “Undercover Phantom” and more “Undercover Fenton” because the juxtaposition of him having to do hidden identities squared (squared again) is too good for me to pass up. It boils down to this: during a ghost attack at school, Danny finds himself stuck being “protected” by Sam and Tucker.

Sam and Tucker take their new jobs as Phantom’s ghost hunting companions too seriously to let this skinny stranger they just met run TOWARDS the danger. WHY does he keep trying to run TOWARDS the danger

NO YOU CANNOT GO TO THE BATHROOM THE SCHOOL IS ON G H O S T L O C K D O W N

Sam pulls out her ectogun.

Danny: WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!

Sam does not tell him.

“Wait, your last name’s Fenton? Like Fentonworks Fenton?” “No, the other Fenton.” “Oh… well, that’s too bad…” “YES LIKE FENTONWORKS FENTON”

Sam is initially wary of Danny because of his parents’ super strong anti-ecto views. Danny is clueless as to why she isn’t very friendly to him-as-a-human when she’s great with him-as-a-ghost. but she warms up after he helps resolve the ghost issue in a way that shows he doesn’t subscribe to his parents’ views.

afterwards you get this excellent situation where Danny is now friends with Sam and Tucker as Phantom and as Fenton, and they’re not connecting the dots as quickly as they did when it was just “that’s Phantom wearing a hoodie and a cap with his own logo on it”.

the potential here? *chefs kiss* here’s a few things but honestly? the possibilities are limitless

Danny pretending to not have a cell phone because he already gave them his number as Phantom

Tucker: *dials Phantom*

Danny, standing directly next to him: *frantically attempting to silence his phone*

Sam & Tucker try to introduce Danny and Phantom. Danny has to make excuses to avoid this happening in both forms.

Danny takes Sam & Tucker down to the Fentonworks Lab to get them some real equipment. Sam & Tucker pretend (very badly) that they’ve never been there before

Rooftop chill sessions as Phantom, late night teenage hijinks as Fenton, plus school AND fighting ghosts does not do any favors for Danny’s sleep deprivation. Tucker introduces him to caffeine pills with… mixed results.

Tucker and Sam teach Phantom some sign language. Later Danny slips up and uses it casually with them as Fenton

…. And many other silly mixups that I’ve yet to think of because I live for that shit

Sam & Tucker have theories about the Fenton-Phantom connection and they’re all wrong but somehow also plausible and that freaks Danny out just a little bit if he ever overhears them

Ultimately, I see this AU having a final arc where a New Situation occurs in which Danny-as-Phantom has to—once again—pretend to be human. This time, he’s with Sam & Tucker as Phantom from the get go, and can’t disappear or transform, even if being Phantom is extremely dangerous at that moment. Somehow this scenario would lead to the Fenton-is-Phantom (or, in this case, Phantom-is-Fenton) reveal…. But the details still escape me :P

so in short………… I really like hidden identities

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #undercover phantom au #no one knows au #DP #WHY is this 1000 words long IM SO SORRY #PS if you are reading these tags and you left tags on any of the comics so far with your own ideas for this au THANK YOU I LOVE YOU #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free to add on ideas to this au any way youd like 🙏#it is just a big ol hidden identities sandbox with also lots of teenages hijinks #im hoping to have my ipad fixed by wednesday-ish so more comics........ eventually :"D #in the meantime please enjoy this long text post and maybe some sketchbook things #if i can work up the nerve to post something straight out of the sketchbook lmfao #long post #fic #art writes

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