#a because he just lived through two years of war as a doctor and saw how quickly things can be snuffed out

[remyfire]

Me: Okay we can go back to being normal now

Brain: Do you think when Hawkeye got a letter from his dad about three weeks later thanking him for having his friend Leo call to check in on Daniel and tell him that Hawk was doing fine and that he missed him very much, and he was quite a funny guy, actually, that Leo, really amazing sense of humor, that Hawkeye shredded and ate the letter out of fury

Me: Please let me have five minutes of peace

[queen-of-the-avengers]

500

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: angst

Summary: You're given a gift that will allow you to help others. You try to use this gift for good and you never make anyone feel like a charity case. However, when you meet Bucky Barnes, you know you have to do something or he'll live the rest of his life in pain.

Squares Filled: graveyard (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

The thing you love most about New York is not everywhere is like the city. If you travel far enough outside of it, it turns into any normal town like any other state has. You’re on your way to visit your parents at the New York State Veterans Cemetery since your father was a soldier in World War II. Your mother requested to be buried alongside him even though she was never in the military, and they let her.

It’s a four-hour drive from the city where you live, so you take this moment to yourself and think about your purpose on Earth. About once a month, you get like this because you’re not normal. You were born with the ability to see people’s pain above their heads in numbers ranging from zero to sixty. One is not in any pain at all and sixty is the worst pain a person can be in.

You’ve been to plenty of hospitals around New York, so you’ve seen people who are in a tremendous amount of pain, but no one has ever been above sixty. You’ve been on this Earth for thirty-three years and never have you seen someone with a sixty-one above their head. Why were you born with this ability? You’re not sure but you know you can do a whole lot of good with it. 

It’s why you became a licensed therapist as well as a social worker. You take on jobs that will help as many people as you can. While you can’t heal anyone physically like a nurse or a doctor, you can help with their emotional and mental trauma which is where most of the pain lies. You’re the only person without a number above your head but it’s likely your powers don’t work on you.

You look at the taxi driver and see the number twenty-five above his head. He’s seen some stuff in his life, that’s for sure. He must be a taxi driver to get away from it all, to just coast through life without having to deal with a lot of stress. You’re guessing but it’s not like you’re going to ask the man what kind of trauma he’s been through in his life.

He drops you off at the cemetery and drives away once you’ve paid him. You like to spend hours with your parents and tell them all that you’ve seen and the people you helped, and that usually takes a few hours at the least. You clutch your mother’s favorite flowers and walk into the cemetery, keeping your head down out of respect.

You sit down right across from their graves and break the bouquet into two so both your parent can have flowers.

“I helped a teenager last week escape his abusive parents,” you begin. “They didn’t care about him and often used him as an outlet for their rage. His pain was at a thirty. Thirty. At age fifteen. I went to go visit him in his new home and his pain was at a twenty-seven. He’s healing and I’d like to think I had something to do with it. I wish you guys were here to see this. It’s amazing to see someone’s number go down because of something I did.”

You look up and scan the area when you notice a man standing by himself near one of the graves. The wind is knocked out of your lungs and you have to brace yourself on the ground so you don’t fall over. The man isn’t saying anything to the grave, just standing over it. Above his head is a whopping five hundred. If you saw someone with an eighty, you’d be floored. The fact that this man has a five hundred over his head… how is he still alive? It’s clearly not physical wounds that hurt him.

Who is this man? Even the most depressed people never go above sixty. You once got involved with a woman who was passed around in the sex trafficking ring and she didn’t even go above sixty. This man has five hundred.

Five hundred.

He says something to the grave before leaving, and you’re too shocked to get up and follow him. What would you even say to him? He had to have been broken down to the very last piece only to be put back together. Over and over again. That’s probably why he’s at five hundred. You don’t want him to feel like a charity case but you have to know that man. To think he’s walking around in such profound pain brings you pain.

“Mama, I think I found someone who might need my help. I’ll let you know how it goes next week.”

Since the cemetery is four hours away from the city, you’re hoping that he is from around here. You spend the next several days walking around Central Park just watching for that five hundred to show up again. You know exactly who the man was. You got a glimpse of his face as he was leaving the cemetery, and you knew he’d never leave New York. This is his home.

You know who he is and after some research on him, you know why he has a five hundred above his head. The following Saturday, you’re walking around Central Park in hopes of seeing this man again. You’d like to think because he has a five hundred, he has his humanity back. He’s feeling the guilt of everything he’s done so you know he isn’t dangerous.

Two women job past you laughing at what one of them said, and you notice how one of the women has a two above her head while the other has a fifteen. Maybe the fifteen did something her friend doesn’t know about and the guilt is starting to eat her alive. A young couple is sitting on the grass with a picnic between them, and both of them only have a five above their head. They must be in love. An elderly couple walks past them with both of them having a forty above their heads. Guess love doesn’t always work out for people in the end.

Central Park gets around six thousand daily visitors, and none of them have a number above sixty. You’ve traveled across the country for your job and non one has ever surpassed sixty. Not until him. You walk further into the park where a cluster of benches are, and you stop when you see that thick five hundred number again.

There he is. Sitting all alone.

Now’s your chance. You walk up to him who barely acknowledges your presence.

“May I sit here?”

He looks up and sees the book in your hands thinking you’re going to mind your business and read silently. He doesn’t say anything but nods so you sit across from him and open your book. You pretend like you’re reading it when really, you’re looking at him from over the top of your book. He has gloves on his hands and it’s not wintertime yet.

There’s a reason why he is wearing gloves.

“My name is Y/N. What’s yours?” you ask gently.

“Bucky.”

“That’s an interesting name. Is it short for something?”

“My middle name is Buchanan. My friends call me Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” You go back to reading only to put the book down several minutes later. “Do you live around here? Or are you visiting someone?”

“No, not visiting someone.”

He’s clearly not into the conversation but you’re not going to give up. He’s not another project. You’re genuinely interested in getting to know him. Sure, his number enticed you to want to talk to him but you’re going to treat him like you would anyone else. It’s going to take a lot more than one conversation for him to open up to you.

The next day, you find him sitting in the same spot with the same five hundred above his head. You walk over to him and don’t ask to sit down, you just do. He lifts his head and notices the book first before looking into your eyes.

“Hi, Bucky. Do you mind if I sit here again?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

Today, you let him get used to your company. You don’t say anything to him except for when you part ways at the end of the day. You want him to be comfortable around you otherwise, he won’t talk to you. Every day after that, you keep sitting across from him reading the same book, allowing him to feel comfortable around you.

“So, what’s your book about?” he asks on the fourth day of sitting across from him.

“It’s called The Maze Runner. I know, it’s for an audience a bit younger than me, but I love the movies. It’s about a young man who wakes up with no memory of who he is and is stuck with a group of boys who also have no memory of who they are. They’re stuck in this maze-like area and they have to try and figure their way out of it that no one has ever survived. There are three movies but there are five books.”

“Sounds interesting. I’ll have to read it.”

“Here,” you close your book and hand it over to him, “take this.”

“No, that’s yours.”

“This is my fifth time reading the series.”

“I can’t just take your book.”

“Then consider it a loan. Give it back when you’re done. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to come and talk to you again.”

Bucky smiles for the first time since you’ve met him, and God, what a beautiful smile it is.

“Thank you.”

“Look, I have to get going, but here is my number.” You write down your number on a spare piece of paper and hand it over. “If you ever want another good book recommendation or the second book in the series, give me a call. Or, you know, if you just want to talk.”

“Okay,” he nods.

You don’t have to look back to know he’s watching you walk away. The next time you see him is a couple of days later. He hasn’t used your number which is fine because you don’t want to rush anything with him.

“Did you finish it?” you ask and sit across from him.

“Yeah, I did. It’s really good.”

“I brought the second one just in case.”

You two exchange the books and he smiles at you.

“Thank you. Would you like to go on a walk with me? Just around Central Park.”

“Sure.”

A walk around the park usually takes two hours if you’re leisurely enough about it, and there is no rush to go anywhere else. You want to ask Bucky a million things about his life and where he came from but you don’t pry into his life. You can get that information online if you want to, but you want this relationship to grow naturally.

Though, you’re not sure you understand why someone like him can be this sad about who he is.

“So, this might be a weird question but how do you feel?”

“Why is that a weird question? I’m fine.”

“It’s just… you seem so sad sometimes.”

“Honestly? There’s not a whole lot to be happy about these days.”

“You’re alive, right? That’s a pretty damn good day to me.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes, I wish I wasn’t.”

“Well, if you weren't, I wouldn’t have met you. I think you’re a great guy.”

“That’s because you don’t know who I am. If you did, you’d be smart to run,” he sighs.

“I know who you are. I know about the Winter Soldier. I lived in DC when everything happened with Steve.” He looks at you and uncertainty swims in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’ve read about what you have done. Hell, I’ve seen it, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“It doesn’t?” he asks with a thick voice filled with emotion.

“Come on, there are a lot of people worse than you like child molesters and rapists. On that spectrum, you’re not so bad. What makes a person bad is the fact that they know what they’re doing is wrong and still continue to do it. When someone wakes up and stops doing what made them bad, that’s not being bad. When someone is manipulated into doing bad things but doesn’t do those things anymore, that’s not being bad. I’m sorry, am I making any sense?” you chuckle.

“Yeah, you are,” he chuckles back. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for the walk but I need to go now. I have to get to work. Can I take you out? You know, a place that’s not Central Park? I can show you my favorite bookstore with books like The Maze Runner.”

“I’ll text you.”

“Great. I look forward to it.”

You start to walk away from him knowing he is watching you walk off. When you get to the busy street, you look back and notice something that brings a bright smile to your face. That five hundred above his head? It’s now at four hundred and ninety-nine.

x

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[presidentdisastraofgallifrey]

Companions Ranked by how Much the Rest of their Life was Ruined

Not included: companions who only went on one or two adventures or popped in and out of the story on their own

Also not included: Dan and Ruby (not enough info on the aftermath)

Also also not included: Mel (not to the end of her run yet) and Ace (not to her at all yet)

1. Bill: had a good time traveling but then was kept prisoner in a creepy hospital for 10 years and then turned into a cyberman so she still wins

2. Adric: blew himself up at like 15 trying to impress the Doctor, who had been a decent parental figure but then changed and was never around when he was needed and not at all supportive. Also he got tortured a lot

3. Romana: held prisoner and tortured for 20 years and then had to lead Gallifrey through some of their most chaotic episodes with no trauma support at all. To be fair that wasn’t really the Doctor’s fault, but he also didn’t offer the support she needed

4. Peri: had a terrible time traveling where he insulted her constantly and never took her discomfort seriously. Then was not just left behind she was straight up abandoned mid-adventure when she was about to be killed for science. And then she didn’t get an explanation and he didn’t come back and she had no way to get back to her own planet or time so really her only practical option was to hitch a ride from the sleazy blood thirsty warlord who wanted to marry her. And this was only supposed to be a fun 3-month trip, not even a way of life for her

5. Stephen: this isn’t really the Doctor’s fault, but the eu is awfully hard on him. He was a king and had a family only to lose a child, see the others tear the family and kingdom apart, and become a depressed hermit

6. Dodo: the eu is just as hard on her. Apparently she ends up institutionalized, interrogated by the Master, homeless, and then assassinated

7. Martha: gets points for having been completely alone in a hellscape that never happened for a year, and for having to recover from that with her family, but the rest of her life was pretty alright actually

8. Zoe: she was smart enough to realize she’d aged two years and pretty much destroyed her own life and ended up at the center of an experiment conspiracy because she was so desperate to remember

9. Clara: honestly she’s only this high because of the making the Doctor forget her bit. Being stuck dead is awful, but also she has a companion and a tardis and full run of the universe first and that’s really the only way her story could end without her actually staying dead

10. Nyssa: her life was hard but in a way she chose and she got to help people

11. Amy and Rory: It sucked being thrown back in time but they got to stay together and live out full lives

12. Sarah: she’s the type of person where regular life could never bring her joy again after everything she’d seen. Also she did pretty regularly get stalked, kidnapped, and shot, but she brought most of that on herself

13. Donna: gets some points for the initial impact of her ending where she lost all the confidence and experience she had gotten and went back to an aimless and unsatisfied life. But she did find love and have a kid and eventually get her memories back so she ended up alright

14. Susan: she’s in the middle because she did live a decently full life but she also lost her husband and son in horribly violent ways and then got drafted into a universe-wide war where a lot of people saw her as untrustworthy because her grandfather was a draft dodger

15. Rose: got trapped in an alternate dimension but like, with her mom and dead dad and eventually fake version of the guy she loved. Overall it wasn’t that bad for her

16. Jamie: he lived a fairly normal life but apparently as an old man ended up the weird guy on the edge of town that everyone thought the war had driven mad because he’d remembered the Doctor

17. Vicki: she was sort of fine, but also living that far in the ancient past had to be pretty hard on a daily basis

18. Harry: I don’t think the Doctor had really any effect on his life. He’s only this high because he did vanish fairly young

19. Tegan: by all accounts the rest of her life was completely uneventful and she hated every moment of it

20. Yaz: it was sad but in the way you know she’ll be ok and find happiness

21. Polly and Ben: their lives were kind of rough but in very normal human ways so it’s fine

22. Turlough: literally nothing ever happened to him again. I think the eu forgot he existed

23. Victoria: lived a pretty quiet and normal life

24. Jo: there are differing canons on whether or not she got divorced and how many kids she had, but she was alright

25. Graham and Ryan: they were good. They got to be each other’s family and the world’s heroes

26. Ian and Barbara: they were fine actually. I don’t even think their careers suffered

27. Liz: I think she actually ended up better off because of her association with the Doctor

[inamindfarfaraway]

Duke Thomas: Another story I’ve heard about myself, this one happened while I was in We Are Robin. Remember that? All the cool kids would take to the streets in masks, fighting crime, saving lives, being like “Hell yeah, we're all Robin!”. And there was this guy I knew who had a twelve-year-old son. His name is Batman and his son’s name is Robin. Robin had been fighting crime for two years longer than me, but he’s three years younger and spent most of his childhood in a murder cult, so it pretty much evens out as to who is behind who in life. And Robin was an asshole. So is Batman, but that's less noteworthy because he's always been like that. But Robin used to be nice. My friends and I, we admire him. We love the idea of him. We love what he represents. It's just an unfortunate fact that this child, when you meet him in person, is gratuitously mean. He'd be like "Desist, you impostors! I am the only real Robin! You are disgraces to all you hold dear!" and cut us with his steel sword.

And one day he decided to leave town for most of a year, which you should never do if you're an asshole. And at this time, Batman had amnesia; he had died for a minute fighting the Joker and got his brain repaired by magic and forgot who he was, forgot that he was Batman; so he was leading a happy, normal life for a bit. And everyone in We Are Robin noticed that Batman and Robin were gone, and we all got up individually and thought, ‘Okay, let's get into the Batcave and destroy the place.’ We wanted to do this not because it was easy, but because it was hard. Breaking into the Batcave is one of those things that's so awesome that you're basically obligated to do it if you can, and being both teenagers and the kind of people to become a street gang of volunteer vigilantes, we thought we had a shot. And we did! Oracle let us right in because she too knows that Batman and Robin are assholes and thought it would be hilarious. And she was right. She's very clever like that. She did a wonderful job, turned off the alarms, opened the gates, edited the security footage, kept the Bats away from the cave all night. I should mention that she was an adult, so our actions were her responsibility.

I walked into this party. More kids than I even knew the movement had were there and everyone was drinking like it was the end of the world. People were drinking like it was the civil war and a doctor was coming to saw our legs off. It was totally unsupervised. We were like dogs without horses, we were running wild. I walked down, I walked through to the display area. They had a giant penny from an adventure. One dude took a running start and threw his body into the giant penny and knocked it over. Another kid sat on the Batcomputer keyboard and took a shit on it. So the party was going great.

I'm standing in the Batcave, and I'm holding a red cup; you’ve seen movies. And I'm standing there and I'm holding a red cup and I'm starting to black out, and I guess someone said, like, “Something, something, Superman”. And in a brilliant moment of word association, I yelled, “FUCK METROPOLIS! FUCK METROPOLIS!" And everyone else joined in. A hundred drunk children dressed in unofficial Robin gear yelling, “FUCK METROPOLIS!”. With the confidence of people who’ve seen death and aren't afraid of it anymore; you know that, like, ‘It doesn’t matter if I survive, what matters is that it needs to be done!’ confidence. The reason someone had said, “Something, something, Superman” was because Superman was there. He had heard us with his super hearing. So the Man of Steel himself flew into the cave and got to the main area and looked out over a sea of drunk toddlers yelling, “FUCK METROPOLIS!” in his face. But he was almost impressed. He was like “Wow”.

Then he leaned into his Justice League communicator and asked, “Oracle, what the heck?”

And my friend Dax - who invented his own grappling hook guns, this man is a genius - he grabbed a smoke bomb, threw it on the ground and yelled, “Scatter!” And everyone ran in different directions. We all ran in different directions. It was like that scene in Ratatouille when the humans come in the kitchen and all the rats go in different ways. We all ran in different directions. I ran across a bridge and I jumped over the Batmobile and I slid down a banister and now I'm running along the underground river and there was this big pitch-black passage in the rock and I thought, ‘I've never gone somewhere that dark before’. And then I woke up at home.

The next day, I went on patrol, because that's what we did back then. And I'm walking into an alleyway and who do I see but Nightwing? And he says to me, “Are you aware that the Batcave was infiltrated last night?”

And I said, “No.” You know, like a liar.

"Oracle, Red Robin and I are investigating it, but we could use We Are Robin’s help.” And he didn’t approve of us at all. He would never have acknowledged us as heroes, let alone asked us for help, unless he felt utterly desperate. “This wasn’t just a thief or a spy. It was a villain with a personal vendetta sending a message of malice and disrespect. They bypassed the security flawlessly, but caused obvious damage inside. They knocked over the giant penny. They took a shit on the Batcomputer. But the worst thing,” he says, “the worst thing is that they stole a photo of Robin II.” Robin II, the one after Nightwing and before Red Robin, was murdered by the Joker when he was fifteen. This is Nightwing’s dead little brother. So he’s trying to stay calm in front of me, but he’s freaking out about it.

And I had a thought that Batman, for comparison, was having around the same time about a life of courage and altruism: did I do that?

I figured, no. I wouldn't have done that. But I was never sure.

Until a year later. Relax. I'm playing video games with this guy named Jason, who also used to be a Robin. A year later, the movement’s kinda died down. We're playing video games for a couple hours, and then Jason says to me, “Hey, come here. I want to show you something”, and he takes me into his bedroom and then he takes me into a side room off of his bedroom - never a good thing to have. He shows me a tiny room that is covered wall-to-wall in stolen photos and belongings of the second Robin from different Batcave break-ins over the years. Mementos of a murdered child superhero taken from his family.

And I said, “Why? Why do you do this?”

And Jason said, “Because it's the one thing they can't replace.”

That's the end of that story, but how fucked up is that, right? That's crazy. So I don't drink anymore.

[shelbgrey]

Stuck in the middle: what it's like being close to Derek and Addison during their devorce.

Summary: headcanons on what life is like when two of most important people are at war and holidays become questionable.

Paring: Platonic!reader X Derek shepherd, Patonic!Reader X Addison Montgomery, Mark Sloan x reader

Request: @luvlesavyy Where the reader is a woman of about 21 years old, and enters the residency program along with the others, however, she is almost like a sister to Derek (they were raised together and even because of the age difference, they love each other too much) addisson is like a mother to her and she gets really bad with everything that happens between them. Maybe you could write headcanons of what her holidays would be like with them, the whole family together, and Mark would have a crush on her.

A/n: hope you like it, thanks for the request

Greys MasterList

~you've known Derek since you were kids. Even though he's got a few years on you the two of you have been glued to the hip ever since you met.

~you of course met Addison through Derek and she seemed to take a immediate liking to you. You didn't really have a good home life so Addison didn't hesitate to take you under her wing.

~with the three of you being so close and them helping you through medical school you were certainly crushed when you heard Addie cheated on Derek.

~the night that it happened Derek had came to your apartment. He was emotional mess and not only was he distraught he was angry... And so were you, you would never in a million years think Addison would cheat.

~what hurt more was the fact that she cheated on him with Mark, another close friend.

~you always liked Mark. Yes he's was older but he always treated you like a queen dispite you being strictly friends. Derek always made sure of that.

~“I just need to get out of this damn city”

~“what if you came to Seattle with me? I'm starting the residency program there”

~so that's exactly what you did. He got his trailer out in the woods and you got an apartment about ten minutes away.

~like mentioned before you two are glued to the hip, but there was no way you were gonna live in that cramped trailer with him, no matter how much you loved him.

Your relationship with Derek:

To the unknown people might think you'd two would be a couple... That's far from the truth.

Derek is your Soulmate. He's more than best friend but less than a lover. You've always had each other's backs and he loves you to death.

Derek has always protected you, him and Addie both but Derek seemed to always take it to another level.

You met him through Amilea. It may sound stereotypical but you were getting picked on at a public park near the neighborhood you grew up in. Amilea saw it and got Derek, she was to young to handle it her self so she got Derek. He chased the little punks off and the rest is history.

As Kids you practically lived at the Shepherd's home. Mrs. Shepherd loved you like her own and never made you feel like you did belong.

You had decent relationships with his sisters I guess. Nacy and Kathleen made it clear they didn't care for you too much but Liz and Amilea cared for like crazy, but not as much as Derek did.

Derek is one that inspired you to become a doctor. You would always be fascinated by all his medical books and when he graduated medical school is when you decided to go yourself.

Him and Addison got you threw it all and never gave up on you.

It's the little things that made your bond strong, rather it be listing to your rants about your favorite topics, taking you to concerts even he doesn't like the music, dressing up on Halloween with you, or even taking you to watch every Harry Potter movie when they'd be in theaters.

He got you threw your first heartbreak and he's never confirmed or denied the facted he slashed your Ex's tires after finding out he cheated.

If you want a movie night, done he'll get the popcorn, you want to bast Elvis Presley he'll find all the speakers and dance with you. You had a nightmare, he'll sleep on the floor next your bed in till your not scared anymore.

You may not share the same blood but your his sister no matter what.

Your relationship with Addison:

Addison loves you like a daughter or little sister, there's no doubt about that.

She use to stay that day she met you she automatically new you'd be close.

She thought you most things girls learn from their mother, but since yours past away Addie made sure to take care of you.

She'd do your hair, help you pick out close, taught you how to use make up and was there when you got your first Period.

You wanted to be just like her and she was your biggest inspiration growing up.

She helped you get threw your insecurities and always made sure that you knew how beautiful you are.

She hates it when you talk down on yourself and she wishes you saw what she was and that was pure beauty.

If you say anything decorating about yourself she'll give you a little love tap on the head or shoulder.

You were her maid of honor at hers and Derek's wedding.

Addison was the only one who knew about Mark's feelings for you and she kept it a secret for him. She also told him to stay away from you.

When she slept with Mark she felt that she not only betrayed Derek but she also Betrayed you.

She couldn't bring herself to tell you. She didn't want to lose you.

What it's like being around them now:

You didn't know Addison was coming to Seattle. Everything seemed to be great Derek found a girl that really made him happy and you met this guy Alex.

When you saw her you immediately hugged her. Dispite what she did you really did miss her.

“I missed you Addie, but what are you doing here?”

“I'm here to get Derek back, what I did was unforgettable but I gotta try”

Uh oh...

When they do get back together you could immediately tell it wad a mistake.

It's like when a small child can tell mom and dad don't love each other anymore. You can just tell.

Both of them unintentionally stick you in the middle and use you to get back at each other.

“well tell him I can't do that and that he's an idiot”

“tell her that's not what the patient needs”

It drives you crazy but most of all it hurts.

You could tell Derek's hurting so you don't say anything. You love them both and definitely don't want to choose sides.

What holidays are like with them:

The first Christmas they had back together would have been depressing without you. Derek didn't feel like celebrating anything and Addison would ignore it.

But on the bright side you got a small Christmas tree to put in Derek's trailer and tried to cheer him up. With or without Addison you were gonna give Derek a good Christmas. He deserved it.

With Addison you'd look through magazines and pick out gifts for Mrs. Shepherd and Derek's sister.

Addison will make sure to get you expensive gifts. Some of which she over thought about. As bad as it sounds she unknowingly wanted to out do Derek.

Derek knows you like the back of his hand so he'd get you anything that you loved rather it be something from your favorite show or even one of a kind collectable.

The presents didn't matter you just wanted to have a peaceful Christmas with the both of them... Like how they used to be.

On Christmas eve you decorated the trailer and they came home to a Christmas tree and your puppy eyes begging for a Christmas.

It turned out to be an amazing night. Christmas movies and laughter. Like how it used to be..

If it's Halloween you and Derek will have a horror movie marathon. You two will be laughing at the gore and Addison will be covering her face in fear or disgust.

Thanksgiving is about like Christmas. You'd put something amazing together and you'll have one night of peace.

Mark having a crush on you:

This was just trouble from the start.

If we're being honest Mark loved you since they day you met, but the problem was he was too afraid to admit and derek would have never let it happen.

Mark loves everything about you. He loves how goofy and kind you are. He feel in love with how your eyes sparkl when you talk about something you love and he especially loves your bubbly personality.

Derek could tell. He saw the way he looked at you and it angered him and scared him. He didn't want Mark hurting you.

He thought he loved Addison but in reality he just wanted to prove to himself he could be happy without you. That wasn't true and not only did he hurt his best friend, he hurt you too.

When He came to Seattle he not only wanted to get Derek back, he wanted to get you back to.

Derek didn't trust him and he wanted to make sure Mark stayed far away from you.

At times it was annoying but you understood where Derek was coming from.

The day mark came to visit Seattle-Grace he got a punch in the face by Derek and you had to patch him up.

As you were giving him stitches his steal-blue eyes never left you. He could feel his heart pounding because of how close he was to you.

“I really did miss you N/n”

You didn't know what to feel. You loved his charm and you will admit you missed him. You missed his laugh, smile, even missed the smell of his colone.

You didn't want to get hurt so you pushed him away, but Mark wasn't gonna give up too easily.

He didn't tell Derek how he felt about you because he knew Derek wouldn't stand by it.

Addison on the other hand told him if he hurt you she'd cut his balls off. She just wants you to be happy but if your hurt all hell will break loose.

“”

You kept your relationship a secret for awhile. You told Callie because of how close you were but Derek was in the dark about it.

You hated lying to him but you knew he would never except it. But really he'd just be happy that your happy, that's all he ever wanted for you.

But mark told him to at the wrong time. Derek lost a patient and Mark was determined to tell him.

They got in a fight and you and Meredith had to pull them apart. You felt like you were being towrn apart. You didn't know which side to take.

The night if happened you want to check on Derek after patching Mark up.

“I love him”

“I just don't want you to get hurt”

You and Meredith got them to work things out and everything seemed to fall into place.

Extra headcanons:

You and Meredith become the best of friends through the two men.

Even though your bit, if not the same age as Meredith you two take care of each other.

Double dates all the time.

Mark is an amazing boyfriend and treats you like the queen you are.

Derek is still over protective but he's getting used to toning it down a bit. It's marks turn to take care of you.

You Became a Peds surgeon and the people who practically raised you couldn't be more proud.

When you become an attending you might or might not have a favorite intern.

Your basically to Levi Schmitt what Derek was to you. You take Levi under your wing and you two become close.

You and Mark end up having twins and Derek is their God-father.

Even though things started off Rocky they couldn't have ended better.

That's all for now,buddies

[thornsinmycrown]

STAY SOFT

DARK!DOCTOR STRANGE x AFAB!READER

warning(s): [ MDNI +18 ] no use of y/n, afab!reader, use of petnames (hon/honey) eventual smut, 18+ dark content, yandere dynamics, minors do not interact. word count: 2,6k.

summary: years have been passing by, years where nothing seemed to be fortunate for Doctor Stephen Strange on his quest for greatness that until the key of happiness presented in front of him, you.

CHAPTER TWO.

You splashed the water and rubbed your skin harshly, the cooling sensation wasn’t enough to wash away the fact that you just got out of one of the most embarrassing interviews in your life. You surely never thought the day one of them could surpass your first job interview would come, but you were just living it now.

Your reflection gave away how much you did not want to go out, mostly because you weren't in the mood to put your face in front of Stephen, you wanted to avoid him like the plague, lock yourself inside your cubicle all day and kiss goodbye the bother to over explain what you meant back there — you knew he would want an apology.

 Apology for what? For nothing, it was clear you didn't owe any explanations, yet, how could you be so cruel to hurt little doctor Stephen Strange's feelings?

And as you left the bathroom, you didn't walk too far until you saw with the corner of your eye that he was getting closer to you. You walked pretty fast, you had years of practice during the residency, however, he was taller and his long legs gave him the enough advantage to walk faster than you and to block your entrance to the room with his arm.

"Hey" he smoothly said, leaning his arm on the threshold to block you from entering.

You crossed your arms and sighed.

"Hey" you replied, a bit harshly.

"I don't mean to give it more importance than the one it had at its moment, but" the emphasis on that damn syllable was it, "what was that…? You know, the…" He did signs with his hands, pointing fingers and feigning disgust.

He was mimicking you, exaggerating every aspect of your denial in the intimacy of your relationship, he was offended and you knew it was going to happen, he was just trying to register how could you dismiss your "friendship" like that. He chuckled.

"It was the truth" your tone had an obvious tone, "we've never been more than colleagues" you shrugged, taking his forearm to pass through below it.

"Well, I thought we were past that" he, like in little occasions, was hesitant, and that caused you to be hesitant too.

"How exactly?".

"We're friends" he was embarrassed now, by the way he scratched his chin, "we had known each other for years, sometimes you know what I'm going to say before I say it or guess what I want to eat…" he was quickly interrupted.

"That doesn't make us friends", you were forthright, "that just tells me I know your habits" you stepped in front of him and he was sure he felt his heartbeat fastening just from having you this close alone.

"To me, that's what a friendship sounds like" he disagreed with your vision and the war was just starting, "how am I not your friend?" he reproached.

You tilted your head and gave him a serious expression, what you were about to say wasn't going to be nice to him, nonetheless, not saying it could carry serious consequences to both in your professional setting.

“When’s my birthday?”, he gave you a quirky expression to make clear he didn’t understand why you brought up that question, “okay, I’ll use a different one, what am I allergic to?”

“Peanuts” he answered immediately with an obvious smirk, and it could have meant a small victory if only it wasn't because he was wrong.

You gave a small tired sigh and crossed your arms.

“I’m allergic to sunflowers”, your voice had that mixture of tiredness and seriousness that he only heard in you when performing in the operating room and you could see a bit of genuine sadness in his eyes before trying to turn it up on you.

“And when is my birthday?” He didn’t mean to be completely insolent, but how else could he play victim?

“November sixth”.

Smooth and blunt. You were so sure of yourself because you were right, and his twitching smile desperately covering the frustration caused by your good memory —and therefore lack of his— on his face gave away that he hadn't been doing his homework properly. His interests weren't where they should be.

“It’s easy to guess,” he said nonchalantly, trying to take the weight out of your words, yet even his puppy dog eyes brightly looking back at yours showed how impressed he was that you cared to remember —because he knew you weren’t the type to remember numbers so easily.

“Except everyone else’s birthdates are in March or May or June” your slight revelation gave him the chance to make a new guess at your birth date, and with no hesitation he babbled an answer.

“June twenty-first!”.

It wasn’t your birth date, it was another co-worker’s.

“No, and stop guessing, it’s not a game, Stephen!” you shut your eyes and scrunched your nose, "what I mean is, when was the last time you did something nice for me or anybody besides yourself?" He opened his mouth and raised his finger to make a sharp point before being interrupted.  "And I mean something without expecting to earn anything back from me, something that doesn't involve work or trying to pick me up".

He felt like a schoolboy now. Shy and embarrassed, he hadn’t felt like that since eighth grade, when one of his classmates made fun of the shape of his nose, except you were now making fun of his feelings. He never had the intention of thinking badly about you, nonetheless, the evidence was there, and when his raised finger slowly fell down and his chest deflated, you started to have second thoughts about what was happening between you two. He looked truly devastated by your words.

You walked to him and placed a hand in his forearm, a simple contact that made him feel nude at his recently found vulnerability against you, he felt his blushing cheeks like a mask, improper of himself even, making his shame somewhat bigger. But your gaze was never judgemental, it was compassionate —what would always make you, in his eyes, the one.

“I’m sorry if I’m hurting you with my words” your gaze flickered from his eyes to the background nervously in an attempt to make the situation better, “but I'd rather be honest than lie to your face. I don’t love you. You care about me and I will always be grateful” even when breaking his heart you looked lovely “but I don’t think I’ll be able to care about you the same way you intend to care about me”.

“But— But, I like you” he quickly babbled, “and I know you like me too, I can see it in your eyes” he quickly argued, trying to save the situationship between you two, to make things better.

He was never frontal about his feelings for you, and it was clear this was surprising you, and the fact that you were aware of how he felt just made it more difficult. Stephen was so sure you felt the same way he couldn't understand why you would turn down the opportunity to be together —to be with him.

“That isn't enough” you said with a firm tone, shaking your head and softly tilting it to the side, your shoulders carrying Stephen's disappointment, “liking is not loving”.

It was true, for as long humanity had conveyed the very human condition, it was implied that although loving had the secret ingredient of desiring in the mixture of ágape, it was not vice versa. Desire is not love, as well as, obsession is not the same as being in love.

“So, I'm unlovable?” he was being defensive now.

“That's not what I said” you argued back, scratching your forehead with frustration. “Chemistry is not love, habits are not love, competition either, love is the daily decision of giving, not something you earn as a prize” it didn't matter how much it was explained to him, he didn't want to understand, he was in a total denial of what was going on.

One could expect he would be ready to accept this little defeat, but it wasn't precisely what was going on inside Stephen's mind, he wasn't ready to let go, to lose against a weak opponent such as you. You just didn't realize what you wanted yet —you wanted him.

“I don't think you're a prize” he tried to assure you, to make you understand you were so much more to him than a simple award in his collection.

You were all. You were the question and the answer, the thin line between paradise and hell, the illness and the cure, an itch he couldn't scratch to ease his mind, the only thing in the world he couldn't have and the one he wanted to deserve the most, you were his love and his disgust, all at once.

“And I didn't say I was” you replied quickly, it wasn't an accusation, but it sounded like one.

At that moment he knew he would only make it worse up to that point. None of you had acknowledged yet that he had implied before —and multiple times— his perception of you.

“Listen,” he murmured trying to find in his mind the words that would make himself be convinced if he was you, “I know how this sounds, but it's not like that” the offensive turned defensive, he didn't see it as positive for you to remark this innocent mistake.

“Then how is it?” you didn't even give him a chance to spit an argument to sweeten up your ears, “I'm not ‘something’ Stephen, I'm someone, it was sweet at first but now it's becoming a problem how you—”.

“Oh, now I'm a problem?” he asked with spite, his mind clouding with every judgmental thought that had ever crossed his mind while thinking about you.

“When people start to wonder about my sex life and if it involves you uhm… Yes!” she didn't even blink or flinch, you had a reason to be evasive and he couldn't reason it now “what do you think people will think about that?” 

It would give off the notion that you climbed your way to the top the dirtiest way, something that was unquestionably untrue. Except people wouldn't assume it was untrue, they would give you the looks to announce they already know, and to him the shoulder pats as if receiving an award, the not so subtle ways to denote the prize for the affair.

“So you give importance to what people say?” He asked to test how much you cared for appearances.

If that's what you wanted, he could give you that. The thrill of being secret lovers, of no one else knowing what you two did under the sheets, to fulfill your rawest fantasies in the dim of the unknown.

"When it starts to interfere in how people perceive I interact with my work space, yeah", you were insistent on the matter, not letting him unfold as the poor tormented man who wanted to show the world he was not ashamed of loving you, because that was his truth.

"Very well then, I guess you don't appreciate my company as much as I do yours".

Those words held a spooky weight on you, you didn't want to let your mind wander too much on the thought that he didn't want to work with you anymore since the success you both had reached was thanks to team work —and you weren't afraid to admit he was important to you. For a couple of seconds you pondered if that was worth the risk of trying to convince him to think otherwise, of what you actually thought about him and his performance as a doctor, about his talent and his company, nonetheless, he would not take it as a friendly complement but a triumph, his arrogant self would be full of them, or even in the worse of scenarios, a declaration of love. Yo sighed, deciding to let things end here in this determined note.

"Look Stephen, if that's what you think, who am I to say you're wrong?" your eyes let him know you haven't given up, you just agreed to disagree defiantly and move on knowing uncomfortability was a risk you were willing to take.

And he didn’t like that. He had no choice but to accept it for now, but he disliked the fact you were mature enough to cross words about sensitive topics between you two and not fall for his deceiving emotional blackmail, it triggered his utmost furious nature and he wouldn’t be satisfied until you paid for it.

“See you” you cut out his brief try of continuing the conversation and went ahead with your other tasks for the evening, your morning had already been ruined and getting the chances of having a mildly decent rest of the day was a burden you were focusing on.

Your mind let go of the subject for a couple of hours till the sun hidden, on the other side, Stephen would think of it twisting it and twirling inside his brain like a chicken rotisserie. 

“Ooh” Dr. Bruner intended to walk past you on the line for the cafeteria food before it closed, seeing your face it was not possible to not notice you, you needed another coffee if you wanted to keep being functional “bad day, huh?”.

You turned and smiled at her pressing your lips awkwardly, bags under your eyes not visible yet, both still knew that wouldn’t last, you were modern Cinderella, with the exception that instead of having cute little animal friends helping you out and a handsome prince waiting for you, you would have undereye bags, a tremor in your left hand due to caffeine and red puffy eyes by the end of the shift.

“You have no idea” the words slurred from your mouth, eliciting a giggle that spread to Dr. Bruner’s face as well, however, quickly turned into concern.

“I think I kind of have it, sorry” she was apologizing before time, which made you take out energy out of the deepest insides of your body and start to pay her full attention, “Stephen told me all about it”.

When she said he told her “all about it”, you could only guess he would tell his part of the conflict and cause some type of pity to awaken compassion from others, in the case of that happening, fortunately you both knew he was spreading misinformation to confuse his whole circle. Nasty and old trick he used.

“Please, tell me all about it” the curiosity of knowing what he had made up about you intrigued you —burned you— to no end.

“Oh no, he’s telling everyone nice things about you” she admitted with a sense of awe and kind of shame “and asking everyone to watch the interview tomorrow”.

You furrowed your brow “why?”, she shrugged.

"I don't know, I just wanted to warn you, this time he is really pissed".

You wanted to believe it was just a tantrum, that it’ll pass.

“He’ll get over it, he’s a big kid,” you took your coffee and walked outside to drink it alone in the window Box near the parking lot. 

A pair of eyes were lurking through the big tall window in his office, Stephen found so much pleasure in watching you enjoy the simple things in your life, such as the refined coffee he had asked the hospital’s cook to change specially for you out of his bill, he wouldn’t let you drink the same nasty things other —inferior— people drank. 

And still, you were angry at him, resistant and closed.  Oh, how much he desired for you to see him as what he was, just a man in love.

author's note: hello hello! sorry that it took so long to post this continuation, i've been working on this wip for months and just now i had an inspirational spree to finish it in a tone i liked, also had to re write the plot a couple of times but i'll do my best to post continuously, thank you for reading!!

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

| this story was inspired by the songs "How Did It End?" & "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" by Taylor Swift |

| a companion to 'Pretty' |

Coriolanus holds the single rose in his hand with such vice that the stem has gone limp.

He’s been to enough funerals to know how this goes, what’s expected of him. He attended his little sister’s funeral.

“I’m going to see your sister.”

Those words play over and over in his head while the officiant drones on and on about what an exemplary citizen Soarynn Snow was. 

Was any of it true? Any of the time they spent together?

He thinks about all the time he spent with Soarynn. Seven years of life with her. He remembers the day he found out she was ticklish. He tickled her just to hear her laugh, to hear genuine happiness from her. She always seemed so miserable with him even though he’d given her everything she could ever dream of. 

Coriolanus thought he had a good grasp on grief. He lived through the war, after all, the Dark Days, and even managed to come out on top. He had the name, the wife, the child. Now two of those are gone.

He had found it extremely difficult to fathom the loss of his own child, his firstborn son. It just didn't seem like something that could happen to him, not when he was on top of the world. Not when they had the nursery all ready, the baby clothes hanging in the closet, the stuffed animals lining the shelves. Soarynn had thrown herself into preparing their son's nursery and transformed the empty space into a warm, loving environment.

They had been so close. So close. But there was a complication, undetected until it was too late and suddenly Coriolanus was receiving phone calls left and right telling him that his wife was found unconscious on their library floor in a pool of her own blood.

Why didn't she call him?

It was a question that plagued his mind as the doctor asked him who they should attempt to save, his son, or his wife.

He chose his wife of course.

Being a father of a dead child was bad enough, but to be a widowed man at such a young age? No. Coriolanus couldn't afford that. He knew their son wouldn't make it into the world alive and if he did then it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Another thing he couldn't afford was having a son who would undoubtedly be the laughingstock of Panem. With the possibility of disfigurements and mental lapses, it was easy for Coriolanus to make the call.

He knew it would devastate Soarynn beyond belief. As much as it terrified her, he knew she wanted to be a mother. She got pregnant rather quickly after their wedding, allowing Coriolanus to confirm once again that Soarynn was of value to him and their family.

He stood out in the hospital hall as they attempted to save his wife. He only caught a small glimpse of them cutting her open before he looked away. He couldn't watch. Then, his son was born.

He didn't make a sound. Stillborns don't cry.

They stitched her up and that was that. One dead child, and one grieving wife.

Coriolanus hadn't known what to do, what to say. Sure, he could be comforting when he needed to be, like when Soarynn had one of her little breakdowns after they had sex. But he was always prepared for those.

How do you prepare for the death of your firstborn child?

So he hadn't said anything, left her to talk with the doctor, and watched the nurses wheel in their dead child in his bassinet for Soarynn to hold for the first and last time. In a way, he was impressed that she even had the strength to do so. He never wanted to hold their son, to see a painful reminder of what could have been.

His curiosity had gotten the best of him once he joined Soarynn's side again, once he saw the pain and sorrow in her eyes. How empty her gaze was.

"What did he look like?" He had asked her, resting a hand on her head.

"He looked like a Snow," she had answered.

And that had been good enough for him.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus had however been prepared for the aftermath of their son's death. Only because he knew what it was like, to lose an infant due to unforeseen circumstances. When his baby sister died, his parents were quick to move past it.

He felt it was better that way, no need to linger in the past when there was a bright future ahead of them. They could have another child. He'd confirmed that with the doctor before they left. Soarynn wasn't left barren and unable to give him more children and she certainly would give him children in due time.

They'd arrange a small funeral, grieve privately, and more forward publicly. Simple as that. He knew his wife could get sentimental, especially over stupid, little things like books and things of that nature. But he didn't need her to get caught up on what could have been.

He expected them to move on.

He didn't expect Soarynn to make a scene in front of their close family and friends before storming out of the penthouse, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Coriolanus had been furious, absolutely furious with her behavior. He wasn't the one who lost their child. He did everything right, everything by the books and still they lost him. It. They lost it.

Then she lost it.

Coriolanus knew where to go, to find her. She went home. He could give her whatever she wanted, fill their penthouse with all her favorite things but it still wouldn't be enough for Soarynn.

Glen had been upset, and understandably so. Coriolanus couldn't imagine the state that Soarynn showed up in and without their child on top of all that. But he was quick to smooth things over, win Glen over once again, and promised to come back in two days to collect Soarynn.

He got a phone call the next morning. He'd been surrounded by family and friends, namely the Creeds and Clemensia who all watched silently as Coriolanus was delivered the news that bore the death of his wife.

"Drowned in the bathtub."

That's what Glen mumbled before hanging up.

Coriolanus didn't know what to say, what to do. How do you drown in the bathtub? He knew enough to know that it had to be done on purpose. This was no accident. Soarynn killed herself.

He got a wide array of reactions when he shared the news. Most were filled with tears and condolences. It felt so strange to him to know that Soarynn wasn't in their room, curled up under the covers with her cat and a book.

She wasn't in the library, sitting in his favorite chair while she looked through old photo albums.

She was gone. How strange to be gone. To end your own life.

He had two funerals to plan now.

He'd only said a few words before disappearing into his room, "We'll tell no one except all of our friends." As far as everyone else was concerned, she died during the miscarriage. Women die all the time giving birth. What makes Soarynn so special?

But she had been special. Hadn't she? She'd been kind, and caring, she would've been a good mother. He'd never know how it would've ended.

But he couldn’t help himself from wondering how it all ended.

Were there signs? Had she cried out for help?

He tore their bedroom apart looking for clues, for something to hold onto, to tie him to her. After hours of endless searching, he finally came across a book he had never seen before, tucked away in their closet in an old shoe box. He’d held the small book in his hands, simply staring at it before he finally gained the courage to open it. 

Her diary. 

He hung me on his wall. Not literally but it felt like it. It always feels like I’m some animal pelt when he makes me take those pills. Sometimes I wish I were an animal pelt. At least I’d be dead. 

It was no wonder she kept this so hidden from him. He would’ve been livid if he found this when she was still alive. How strange to think that Soarynn wasn’t alive anymore. He would never be able to smell the sweet scent of vanilla again without thinking of the girl who sat in front of him in class that year. Little did she know that choosing that seat would cost her life. 

He kept reading. There were so many entries, all devastating in their own way. 

I wish I could run away. But I can’t, he trapped me. We’re having a baby in eight months. Coriolanus thinks it’ll be a boy, I hope so too for his sake. I don’t think he’d like a girl. Everyone has been congratulating me on the news but they do that a lot. Congratulate me. On the wedding, on the penthouse, on our relationship. If only they knew. He shows me off, loves to do it. I hate it. I hate it here.

He flipped to the end of the diary, not in the mood for her whining and nagging. The last entry was so short, but the way it was written made Coriolanus feel as if his throat was tightening up. It was like she knew he’d find her diary, would read it, would go to the last entry. She sounded so angry. 

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?  In fifty years will this be declassified? And you’ll confess why you did it. And I’ll say, “Good riddance.”  Cause it wasn’t sexy once it wasn’t forbidden.  I would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. And you deserve prison, but you won’t get time.  You kicked out my stage lights, but you’re still performing.  In plain sight you hit. But you are what you did.  And I’ll forget you but I’ll never forgive. The smallest man who ever lived. 

At six-foot-two and at the top of the world, Coriolanus Snow had never felt so small. And for the first time in a very long time, much like his wife, he broke down. 

꧁ ꧂

"If anyone would like to share a memory or a few kind words, please do so now," the officiant says, somberly looking into the massive crowd of Capitol elites who have gathered to honor and mourn the death of Soarynn Snow and her stillborn child.

Coriolanus stares down at the ground, at her coffin. It's black and sleek with roses engraved around it. The proper casket for the wife of a Snow. A smaller one sits next to hers. Their sons.

Coriolanus squeezes the white rose in his hand a little tighter as someone walks up to the front, stepping onto the podium.

"Miss Soarynn was a fine Capitol lady."

Coriolanus looks up to see the doorman to their apartment standing at the microphone, "She always greeted me with a smile, asked how my day was going. She even brought me cookies one day, it...it was my birthday. She was a kind woman and my heart goes out to you Mr. Snow, your wife was a lovely lady."

Coriolanus manages to give the doorman a tight-lipped smile. It's hard to smile with that letter playing over and over in his head, those words haunting him now. Were they all watching him now?

His wife, his son, his sister, his mother-in-law?

He wasn't given much notice once the letter arrived on his doorstep. Glen Nightingale all but stormed into the penthouse, collecting every memory of Soarynn, including the cat. The look Glen had given him was all Coriolanus needed to know that Soarynn had told him everything. Or at least something.

He could feel the hatred radiating off of Glen as they stood next to each other.

"Soarynn Nightingale was too good for this world."

Coriolanus doesn't need to look up to know that Sejanus Plinth has taken to the microphone. "She was too gentle, too kind and trusting and that trust was taken advantage of over and over again by someone she blindly trusted. I hope that she and her son can find rest in the afterlife."

A few more people go up to speak, all noting how kind Soarynn was, how beautiful and gentle that girl was.

Was, was, was.

Eventually, Coriolanus is ushered to the podium. He knows he has to give out somewhat of a statement, he can see all the news outlets at the back of the crowd, eager to hear about the tragic events that have suddenly befallen the Snow family.

He clears his throat before speaking, "My gratitude extends to each and every one of you who has attended the funeral of my wife and son today. My wife was loved by many, my son never got the chance to be loved."

He knows that's not true. Soarynn loved their son before he was born.

"We were blind to unforeseen circumstances. My wife's pregnancy was complicated and in the end, led to a tragic and fatal miscarriage that took the lives of the two people who meant the most to me in the world."

Whispers can be heard throughout the crowd. Some people believe him. Coriolanus has always been good at playing for the cameras, telling people what they want to hear. Other whispers are doubtful of his love for Soarynn and their son.

And he has Glen Nightingale to thank for that. Three days after her death, it came out that Sorynn had filed for divorce. Claiming that she was the victim of domestic abuse, sexual violence, and coercion, and numerous amounts of other accusations that did nothing but taint his reputation.

As if her death wasn't hard enough, Coriolanus now has people coming at him left and right, questioning him and his marriage. His father advised him to keep his head down, to deny such claims, and to continue to share his love and adoration for Soarynn.

He just doesn't know if he has any to give.

"I loved my wife. She was kind and generous, she was a devoted woman who was loyal to her family and her country. She would want us to celebrate her life and our sons, not mourn it."

There, he's told people what they want to hear, and now, he's ready to hear what he wants to hear.

꧁ ꧂

The reception dinner is quiet for the most part, only small conversations take place. Many people have come up to Glen to give their condolences. One wife and one daughter gone. Coriolanus fears that he can now relate to Glen on that level and he so badly wishes that he didn't.

"Do you think you'll ever remarry?"

Coriolanus looks to his left to find Livia Cardew addressing him, her eyes pinning him down. A bit of an inappropriate question to ask at a funeral, especially his wife's funeral but Coriolanus will be damned if he comes off as unpolite by ignoring her question.

"I think right now I need to focus on putting the pieces back together," he answers, ignoring the glare that Glen sends his way.

Livia hums and turns back to her dinner leaving them in another uncomfortable silence. Soarynn certainly left a mess behind for him to clean up. Not only her death but now legal issues as well. What a selfish thing to do.

꧁ ꧂

They opted to leave the casket open for those who wanted a moment alone with Soarynn before they buried her six feet in the ground. Coriolanus had declined to do the same with his son. No one would ever know what he looked like, what he could have looked like. What could have been.

Many people go up to Soarynn, he watches them whisper words they probably don't mean. He doubts most people really knew her. He barely did himself it seems. Eventually, he gathers the courage to see his wife one last time. At least her death wasn't horrendous and she didn't slit her wrists open along with her face. She looks like she's sleeping.

But she'll never wake up.

He leans down until it's just the two of them, not a word between them. She smells like vanilla. Her skin is pale, it lacks the normal tan hue she always had.

"You left me," he whispers, "left me to deal with this mess."

Soarynn doesn't respond.

"You know, I keep going over it in my head. What if I never noticed you? Never took interest in you? Would my life be this fucked if we never met? Do you know Soarynn? Do you know how different things would've been for the both of us? If you're listening from Heaven do me a favor and ask someone up there if they can see, if they can see what it would look like if our paths never crossed. And if they can find something, somewhere where you never ruined my fucking life, you ask them something for me, okay?"

Coriolanus has to force himself to take a deep breath as he whispers to his wife, berating her from the grave.

"How did it end?"

He straightens up, giving Soarynn one last look. She was fun, quiet, and obedient for the most part. She tried to be good for him, and he had to give her credit for that.

Her hair has been done in curls, her makeup is light and her lips are a soft pink even though he knows that under all that makeup she's pale and her lips are blue.

She looks so pretty.

| Final Part |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[ridenwithbiden]

The Allopathic Complex and Its Consequences

luigi mangione's last words

LM

Dec 09, 2024

The second amendment means I am my own chief executive and commander in chief of my own military. I authorize my own act of self-defense in response to a hostile entity making war on me and my family.

Nelson Mandela says no form of viooence can be excused. Camus says it’s all the same, whether you live or die or have a cup of coffee. MLK says violence never brings permanent peace. Gandhi says that non-violence is the mightiest power available to mankind.

That’s who they tell you are heroes. That’s who our revolutionaries are.

Yet is that not capitalistic? Non-violence keeps the system working at full speed ahead.

What did it get us. Look in the mirror.

They want us to be non-violent, so that they can grow fat off the blood they take from us.

The only way out is through. Not all of us will make it. Each of us is our own chief executive. You have to decide what you will tolerate.

In Gladiator 1 Maximus cuts into the military tattoo that identifies him as part of the roman legion. His friend asks “Is that the sign of your god?” As Maximus carves deeper into his own flesh, as his own blood drips down his skin, Maximus smiles and nods yes. The tattoo represents the emperor, who is god. The god emperor has made himself part of Maximus’s own flesh. The only way to destroy the emperor is to destroy himself. Maximus smiles through the pain because he knows it is worth it.

These might be my last words. I don’t know when they will come for me. I will resist them at any cost. That’s why I smile through the pain.

They diagnosed my mother with severe neuropathy when she was forty-one years old. She said it started ten years before that with burning sensations in her feet and occasional sharp stabbing pains. At first the pain would last a few moments, then fade to tingling, then numbness, then fade to nothing a few days later.

The first time the pain came she ignored it. Then it came a couple times a year and she ignored it. Then every couple months. Then a couple times a month. Then a couple times a week. At that point by the time the tingling faded to numbness, the pain would start, and the discomfort was constant. At that point even going from the couch to the kitchen to make her own lunch became a major endeavor

She started with ibuprofen, until the stomach aches and acid reflux made her switch to acetaminophen. Then the headaches and barely sleeping made her switch back to ibuprofen.

The first doctor said it was psychosomatic. Nothing was wrong. She needed to relax, destress, sleep more.

The second doctor said it was a compressed nerve in her spine. She needed back surgery. It would cost $180,000. Recovery would be six months minimum before walking again. Twelve months for full potential recovery, and she would never lift more than ten pounds of weight again.

The third doctor performed a Nerve Conduction Study, Electromyography, MRI, and blood tests. Each test cost $800 to $1200. She hit the $6000 deductible of her UnitedHealthcare plan in October. Then the doctor went on vacation, and my mother wasn’t able to resume tests until January when her deductible reset.

The tests showed severe neuropathy. The $180,000 surgery would have had no effect.

They prescribed opioids for the pain. At first the pain relief was worth the price of constant mental fog and constipation. She didn’t tell me about that until later. All I remember is we took a trip for the first time in years, when she drove me to Monterey to go to the aquarium. I saw an otter in real life, swimming on its back. We left at 7am and listened to Green Day on the four-hour car ride. Over time, the opioids stopped working. They made her MORE sensitive to pain, and she felt withdrawal symptoms after just two or three hours.

Then gabapentin. By now the pain was so bad she couldn’t exercise, which compounded the weight gain from the slowed metabolic rate and hormonal shifts. And it barely helped the pain, and made her so fatigued she would go an entire day without getting out of bed.

Then Corticosteroids. Which didn’t even work.

The pain was so bad I would hear my mother wake up in the night screaming in pain. I would run into her room, asking if she’s OK. Eventually I stopped getting up. She’d yell out anguished shrieks of wordless pain or the word “fuck” stretched and distended to its limits. I’d turn over and go back to sleep.

All of this while they bled us dry with follow-up appointment after follow-up appointment, specialist consultations, and more imagine scans. Each appointment was promised to be fully covered, until the insurance claims were delayed and denied. Allopathic medicine did nothing to help my mother’s suffering. Yet it is the foundation of our entire society.

My mother told me that on a good day the nerve pain was like her legs were immersed in ice water. On a bad day it felt like her legs were clamped in a machine shop vice, screwed down to where the cranks stopped turning, then crushed further until her ankle bones sprintered and cracked to accommodate the tightening clamp. She had more bad days than good.

My mother crawled to the bathroom on her hands and knees. I slept in the living room to create more distance from her cries in the night. I still woke up, and still went back to sleep.

Back then I thought there was nothing I could do.

The high copays made consistent treatment impossible. New treatments were denied as “not medically necessary.” Old treatments didn’t work, and still put us out for thousands of dollars.

UnitedHealthcare limited specialist consultations to twice a year.

Then they refused to cover advanced imaging, which the specialists required for an appointment.

Prior authorizations took weeks, then months.

UnitedHealthcare constantly changed their claim filing procedure. They said my mother’s doctor needed to fax his notes. Then UnitedHealthcare said they did not save faxed patient correspondence, and required a hardcopy of the doctor’s typed notes to be mailed. Then they said they never received the notes. They were unable to approve the claim until they had received and filed the notes.

They promised coverage, and broke their word to my mother.

With every delay, my anger surged. With every denial, I wanted to throw the doctor through the glass wall of their hospital waiting room.

But it wasn’t them. It wasn’t the doctors, the receptionists, administrators, pharmacists, imaging technicians, or anyone we ever met. It was UnitedHealthcare.

People are dying. Evil has become institutionalized. Corporations make billions of dollars off the pain, suffering, death, and anguished cries in the night of millions of Americans.

We entered into an agreement for healthcare with a legally binding contract that promised care commensurate with our insurance payments and medical needs. Then UnitedHealthcare changes the rules to suit their own profits. They think they make the rules, and think that because it’s legal that no one can punish them.

They think there’s no one out there who will stop them.

Now my own chronic back pain wakes me in the night, screaming in pain. I sought out another type of healing that showed me the real antidote to what ails us.

I bide my time, saving the last of my strength to strike my final blows. All extractors must be forced to swallow the bitter pain they deal out to millions.

As our own chief executives, it’s our obligation to make our own lives better. First and foremost, we must seek to improve our own circumstances and defend ourselves. As we do so, our actions have ripple effects that can improve the lives of others.

Rules exist between two individuals, in a network that covers the entire earth. Some of these rules are written down. Some of these rules emerge from natural respect between two individuals. Some of these rules are defined in physical laws, like the properties of gravity, magnetism or the potential energy stored in the chemical bonds of potassium nitrate.

No single document better encapsulates the belief that all people are equal in fundamental worth and moral status and the frameworks for fostering collective well-being than the US constitution.

Writing a rule down makes it into a law. I don’t give a fuck about the law. Law means nothing. What does matter is following the guidance of our own logic and what we learn from those before us to maximize our own well-being, which will then maximize the well-being of our loved ones and community.

That’s where UnitedHealthcare went wrong. They violated their contract with my mother, with me, and tens of millions of other Americans. This threat to my own health, my family’s health, and the health of our country’s people requires me to respond with an act of war.

END

(posted without comment)

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

23 years since the horror of September 11, 2001.

Never, ever forget that black day.

The following extracts from Fall and Rise: The Story of 9/11 fill me with grief, horror, and anger, though I have no clear memory of the attacks; I was six.

'Then came September 11, 2001.

Torn open, aflame, weakening from within, the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center spewed paper like blood from an arterial wound. Legal documents and employee reviews. Pay stubs, birthday cards, takeout menus. Timesheets and blueprints, photographs and calendars, crayon drawings and love notes. Some in full, some in tatters, some in flames. A single scrap from the South Tower, tossed like a bottled message from a sinking ship, captured the day's horror. In a scrawled hand, next to a bloody fingerprint, the note read:

84th floor

west office

12 People trapped

After the paper came the people. After the people came the buildings. After the buildings came the wars. The ashes cooled, but not the anguish.'

(Mitchell Zukoff- Fall and Rise: The Story of 9/11; Introduction, p xviii)

There are the terrified telephone messages that are too distressing for words:

' "Um, the cockpit's not answering," Betty said. "Somebody's stabbed in business class, and, um, I think there is Mace-- that we can't breathe. I don't know, I think we're getting hijacked." '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 61)

Those were the words of Betty Ong on American Airlines Flight 11, not realising the full extent of the sickening murder-suicide plan concocted by the al-Qaeda terrorists in the cockpit.

The evil that air traffic controller Peter Zalewski 'couldn't quite hear' (p64):

'Unknown at that point to anyone at Boston Center, the foreign-sounding man, almost spitting his words directly into the microphone, had said: "We have some planes. Just stay quiet, and we'll be okay. We are returning to the airport." '

(Zuckoff (2019), pp 63-64)

As the message wasn't caught in its entirety, Mr. Zalewski was unable to warn other pilots of the danger. A further three American airlines would be hijacked, two of them turned into deadly missiles, and one thwarted by inexplicably brave passengers.

The heart-stopping last words of flight attendant Amy Sweeney on Flight 11:

'Michael tried his best to calm Amy. He told her to look out the window and tell him what she saw. "We are flying low," she said. Amy told Michael she saw water and buildings. "We are flying very, very low. We are flying way too low!"

Amy paused. Powerless on the other end of the phone, Amy's colleague and friend Michael Woodward waited, every second stretching into a lifetime. Less than an hour earlier, he'd stood inside the plane, locked eyes with Mohamed Atta, and waved goodbye to his friends.

Michael heard Amy's last words, before the call dissolved into static: "Oh my God!-- We are way too low!" '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 78)

Zuckoff also relays, sentence by heartbreaking sentence, the lives that were about to be ended on Flight 11:

'Amy Sweeney's children would have to get to school, and through life, without her.

Betty Ong's elderly friends would need new rides to doctor's appointments. Her sister Cathie would never again hear her say "I love you lots."

Robert Norton's stepson would have to get married without him.

Daniel Lee's soon-to-be-born daughter would spend her entire life without him.'

(Zuckoff (2019), p 79)

The first sign of impending doom for United Airlines Flight 175:

'Someone in the United plane's cockpit changed the plane's transponder code twice within a minute. Bottiglia didn't notice because he was furiously searching for American Flight 11, which by then no longer existed.'

(Zuckoff (2019), p 83)

The heartbreaking call of Flight 175 passenger Brian Sweeney to his wife, Jules:

' "Jules, this is Britain. Listen, I'm on an airplane that's been hijacked. If things don't go well, and it's not looking good, I just want you to know I absolutely love you. I want you to do good, go have a good time. Same to my parents and everybody. And I just totally love you, and [anticipating heaven or an afterlife] I'll see you when you get there. 'Bye, babe. Hope I'll call you." '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 88)

Passenger Peter Hanson on Flight 175 comforting his father:

' "Don't worry, Dad. If it happens, it'll be very fast." '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 90)

No words.

'United Airlines Flight 175 flew low and fast, banking toward the southern twin of the burning North Tower of the World Trade Center. Flight controllers, airline officials, government and military experts, and everyone else would need to accept a new script for hijackings, one that featured a multipronged murder-suicide plot designed to maximize civilian casualties and terrorize survivors through the destruction of physical and symbolic pillars of America's power.

The evidence flashed on the air traffic controllers' radar screens.

"No!" a New York controller shouted. "He's not going to land. He's going in!"

FROM THE BACK of the plane, with his wife and daughter pressed against him, Peter Hanson spoke his final words to his father: "Oh my God... Oh my God, oh my God."

Lee Hanson heard a woman shriek.'

(Zuckoff (2019), pp 90-91)

America witnessing the second plane crash into the South Tower, and understanding that this was no accident, but a terrorist attack. The country was at war.

'At 9:03:11 a.m., Lee and Eunice Hanson, Louise Sweeney, and millions of others became witnesses to murder. They watched live on television as United Flight 175, traveling between 540 and 587 miles per hour, slammed on an angle into the 77th through 85th floors of the South Tower of the World Trade Center. A bright orange fireball exploded. The building rocked and belched smoke, lass, steel, and debris. The plane and everyone inside it disappeared forever.

In her kitchen, Eunice Hanson screamed.

In her television studio, Diane Sawyer gasped, "Oh my God."...

After replaying thee video to be certain about what they'd seen, Gibson's voice went slack.

"Oh, this is terrifying... Awful."

Sawyer spoke for Eunice and Lee Hanson, Louise Sweeney, and countless others who saw United Flight 175's final seconds. "To watch powerless," she said, "is a horror." '

(Zuckoff (2019), pp 91-92)

The final words between Barbara and Ted Olson on American Airlines Flight 77:

' "What can I tell the pilot?" Barbara asked Ted. "What can I do? How can I stop this?"

Ted wasn't sure how to answer. He decided that he had to tell Barbara about the other two hijackings and crashes at the World Trade Center. Flight 77 seemed bound for the same fate; the question was where the hijackers intended to crash. Barbara absorbed the news quietly and stoically, though Ted wondered if she'd been shocked into silence.

They expressed their feelings for each other. Each reassured the other that it wasn't over yet, the plane was still aloft, and everything would work out. Even as he said the words, Ted Olson didn't believe them. He suspected that neither did Barbara.

The call abruptly ended.'

(Zuckoff (2019), p 131)

The fateful moment that President George W. Bush had to remain calm after the White House Chief of Staff Andy Card said:

' "A second plane hit the second tower. America is under attack." '

(Zuckoff (2019), p 138)

President Bush's immortal words:

' "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a difficult moment for America... Today we've had a national tragedy. Two airplanes have crashed into the World Trade Center in an apparent terrorist attack on our country. I have spoken to the vice president, to the governor of New York, to the director of the FBI, and have ordered that the full resources of the federal government go to help the victims and their families and to conduct a full-scale investigation to hunt down and find those folks who committed this act. Terrorism against our nation will not stand."

Bush asked for a moment of silence, then said: "May God bless the victims and their families and America." Then he left.'

(Zuckoff (2019), pp 139-140)

The victims of American Airlines Flight 77:

'Eddie Dillard wouldn't return home soon to his wife, Rosemary. Marie-Rae wouldn't save the women's gymnastics team at the University of California, Santa Barbara. Renée May would never surprise her parents with news of her pregnancy.'

(Zuckoff (2019), p 146)

This and more are just a few of the profoundly distressing stories of that day. The injustice of lives stolen because of Islamic terrorism and the hideous, despicable ideology of Islamic jihad that incites these murders. The legacy of trauma on the survivors, including the first responders, who have paid a terrible price for their unimaginable bravery when conducting rescue in the doomed Twin Towers.

NEVER, EVER FORGET

[lady-sci-fi]

There’s an extra layer to “DS9: Statistical Probabilities” that is kind of hidden, but adds a lot to it.

Julian and the Jack Pack’s plan of surrender to the Dominion relies upon one thing to make it in any way positive (other than possibly immediately saving lives through not fighting back). The idea that 200-ish years along the line after the Federation or the entire Alpha/Beta Quadrants are taken over, a rebellion will start with Earth as the main gathering point.

BASHIR: If we fight, there will be over nine hundred billion casualties. If we surrender, no one dies. Either way we're in for five generations of Dominion rule. Eventually a rebellion will form, centering on Earth. It'll spread, and within another generation, they'll succeed in conquering the Dominion. The Alpha Quadrant will unite and a new, stronger Federation will rule for thousands of years. Since we can't win this war, why don't we save as many lives as we can? I know it's difficult to accept. SISKO: I don't accept it. Your entire argument is based on a series of statistical probabilities and assumptions. BASHIR: They're not just assumptions.

But this assumption that there would be an opportunity for a rebellious uprising like that is a completely wrong one. This exact scenario is something we see Weyoun and Dukat discuss a few episodes before in “Sacrifice of Angels.”

DUKAT: We didn't defeat the Federation by being cautious. WEYOUN: We haven't defeated it yet. And even if we do, it's only the beginning. Holding on to a prize as vast as the Federation isn't going to be easy. It's going to require an enormous number of ships, a massive occupation army and constant vigilance. DUKAT: I look forward to it. WEYOUN: If you ask me, the key to holding the Federation is Earth. If there's going to be an organized resistance against us, its birthplace will be there. DUKAT: You could be right. WEYOUN: Then our first step is to eradicate its population. It's the only way. DUKAT: You can't do that. WEYOUN: Why not? DUKAT: Because! A true victory is to make your enemy see they were wrong to oppose you in the first place. To force them to acknowledge your greatness. WEYOUN: Then you kill them? DUKAT: Only if it's necessary. WEYOUN: I had no idea.

If the Dominion wins, however they do it, they know Earth is very important. It wouldn’t matter if Dukat and the Cardassians want to make everyone grovel at their feet and not kill them. The Dominion viewpoint would win out and Weyoun knows exactly what that means. In fact, he didn’t even realize being the “benevolent dictator” like Dukat wants could be an option, because that’s not how the Dominion works. To Weyoun and the Founders, either you join them without resistance or they deal with you with brutality and little mercy.

Near the end of Season 4 in “The Quickening”, Julian spent a month trying to cure a disease engineered by the Dominion to punish one planet of people who defied them. (And remember, Julian did not cure the disease for everyone, he only made it possible for future babies to not be born with it).

BASHIR: I'm a doctor, and I have access to sophisticated diagnostic equipment. TREVEAN: We had sophisticated equipment once. Do you think our world was always this way? Two centuries ago, we were no different from you. We built vast cities, travelled to neighbouring worlds. We believed nothing was beyond our abilities. We even thought we could resist the Dominion. I see you've heard of them. Then take care not to defy them or your people will pay the same price we did. The Jem'Hadar destroyed our world as an example to others. More than anything, the Dominion wanted my people to bear the mark of their defiance. So they brought us the Blight.

Julian saw first-hand what defeat or surrender to the Dominion would mean.  While we don’t know exactly what those people did to get that wrath, surely the Dominion would view the Federation and other Alpha and Beta Powers as much worse defiance.

If they were willing to kill a bunch of this planet’s population, then destroy them physically and mentally for all generations afterwards, imagine what else they have absolutely no moral problems with doing. I also doubt this treatment would only be used on Earth. The Dominion would know that other places are important, like Vulcan, Qonos, Romulus... any former major positions of power that they’ve defeated where a potential big uprising could happen.

While I can’t fault Julian and the Jack Pack for not having full understanding of the Dominion’s set of morality or what they do when it comes to defeated enemies while running the numbers and thinking of plans, Julian did have some practical experience with it. Julian got so caught up in it that he forgot that or didn’t think that would happen to them.

But that assumption that the Dominion would take over and essentially leave them alone enough for a successful rebellion to occur in 5-6 generations was a very dangerous one, and one we know was wrong.

(For further proof of this Dominion brutality, in “What You Leave Behind”, what’s their response to Damar’s rebellion going on a little too long for their liking? Bomb an entire city of Cardassians, who are as a majority group their allies, to the ground and threaten to do it again for punishment and motivation).

(Dialogue source: Chakoteya’s Transcripts)

[magical-regical]

Scanning the galaxy for Xavier lore

I know Xavier has some deep lore in his myth story but in most of the main story he's like:

Either I'm just rly bad at reading subtext or the main story does nothing to elaborate about his past or what he's looking for and I'm on chapter 7. Maybe that's intentional and then it ramps up on chapter 8 since that's when you unlock another one of his anecdotes.

With Rafayel, the game basically tells you he's tied to Lemuria from even before launch through his dialogue and the shot of him underwater in the Jan 18th release trailer. On his daily interactions he also doesn't really hide it, straight up saying "that shit won't fly in Lemuria" when you touch his butt lol.

And ig with Zayne w/ the thing abt his evol being revealed early on and the fact that he's your childhood friend and a doctor and all of chapter 5, it's pretty easy to put two and two together.

But Xavier? His in game interactions just hint at how he's been alive for so long he's mastered everything except cooking and that's why he has no worldly desires and I'm here like 'yea, we been known. It's in his character release trailer'. The same trailer is also (so far) the biggest source of lore I've been getting without reading the myths story and after really paying attention to it, gives quite a bit of juicy info.

Aside from the '214th spring on earth' line, the radio in his trailer says their planet welcomed the 4389.2 billionth sunrise and currently, the earth is 4543 billion years old and the earliest signs of life only emerged 3.7 billion years ago. The radio lady then proceeds to mention how 'the tracker team has returned from earth' and about 'returning to an era before immortality'.

Does that imply Xavier's immortal? Or just immortal compared to regular humans? While I'm on this topic, lore says Xavier's been on this earth for 214 years which implies the myth stories don't happen on earth because 214 years from the time of the stories (which I assume is 2048 since Zayne is 27 years old and I saw a random tumblr post saying he was born in 2021, I might be wrong about that) is the year 1834 which is far from a time of swords and seers but is still crazy to think about because that means this man lived through two world wars and the great depression if history holds.

So my theory is, w/ Zayne and Rafayel, the myth stories are like, memories of a past life but for Xavier, after whatever happened in the myth story, he goes back to his planet and it's not until way waaay into the future that for some reason he decides to come to earth and when he meets MC the first time and he gets absolute whiplash because holy fuck that's them. They're back. After god knows how many lifetimes it's they're once again within his reach. Which is actually pretty fucking tragic? Holy shit I did not think I'd be uncovering all this when I thought about Xavier doing that stupid meme.

[cannedmelonart]

The second Amendment means I am my own chief executive and commander-in-chief of my own military. I authorize my own act of self-defense in response to a hostile entity making war on me and my family. Nelson Mandela says, “No form of violence can be excused.” Camus says, “It's all the same whether you live or die or have a cup of coffee.” MLK says, “Violence never brings permanent peace.” Gandhi says, “Nonviolence is the mightiest power available to mankind.” That's who they tell you are heroes that's who our revolutionaries are, yet is that not capitalistic? Non-violence keeps the system working at full speed ahead. What did it get us? Look in the mirror, they want us to be nonviolent so they can grow fat off the blood they take from us. The only way out is through and not all of us will make it. Each of us is our own chief executive, you have to decide what you will tolerate.

In Gladiator 1 Maximus cuts into the military tattoo that identifies him as part of the Roman legion. His friend asks, “Is that the sign of your God?” as Maximus carves deeper into his own flesh as his own blood drips down his skin Maximus smiles and nods yes. That tattoo represents the emperor who is God, the god Emperor has made himself part of Maximus' own flesh the only way to destroy the emperor is to destroy himself. Maximus smiles through the pain because he knows it is worth it. These might be my last words I don't know when they will come for me. I will resist them at any cost that's why I smile through the pain.

They diagnosed my mother with severe neuropathy when she was 41 years old. She said it started 10 years before that with burning sensations in her feet and occasional sharp stabbing pains. At first, the pain would last a few moments and fade to tingling, then numbness, then fade to nothing a few days later. The first time the pain came she ignored it, then it came a couple times a year, and she ignored it. Then every couple months, then every couple times a month, then a couple times a week. And at that point by the time the tingling faded to numbness the pain would start, and the discomfort was constant. At that point even going from the couch to the kitchen to make her own lunch became a major endeavor. She started with ibuprofen until the stomach aches and acid reflux made her switch to acetaminophen. Then the headaches and barely sleeping made her switch back to ibuprofen. The first doctor said it was psychosomatic nothing was wrong she needed to relax, distress, and sleep more. The second doctor said it was a compressed nerve in her spine and she needed back surgery. It would cost $180,000, recovery 6 months minimum, before walking again, 12 months to full potential recovery, and she would never lift more than 10 pounds of weight again. The third doctor performed a nerve conduction study, electromyography, MRI, and blood tests. Each test cost $800, $1,200, she hit her $6,000 deductible of her United Healthcare plan in October. Then the doctor went on vacation and my mother wasn't able to resume tests until January when her deductible reset. The test showed severe neuropathy, the $180,000 surgery would have had no effect. These prescribed opioids for the pain, at first the pain relief was worth the price of constant mental fog and constipation. She didn't tell me about that until later. All I remember is we took a trip for the first time in years when she drove me to Monterey to go to the aquarium. I saw an otter in real life swimming on its back we left at 7 a.m. and listened to Green Day on the 4-Hour car ride. Over time the opioids stopped working and they made her more sensitive to pain and she felt withdrawal symptoms after just two or three hours. Then Gabapentin, by now the pain was so bad she couldn't exercise which compounded the weight gain from the slowed metabolic rate and hormonal shifts. And it barely helped the pain and made her so fatigued she would go an entire day without getting out of bed. Then the corticosteroids, which didn't even work. The pain was so bad I would hear my mother wake up in the night screaming in pain, I would run into her room asking if she was okay. Eventually I stopped getting up, she'd yell out in anguished shrieks of wordless pain, or the word fuck stretched and distended to its limits. I'd turn over and go back to sleep.

All of this while they bled us dry with follow-up appointments after follow-up appointments, specialist consultations, and more imagine scans. Each appointment was promised to be fully covered until the insurance claims were delayed and denied. Allopathic medicine did nothing to help my mother's suffering, yet it is the foundation of our entire society. My mother told me that on a good day the nerve pain was like her legs were immersed in ice water, on a bad day it felt like her legs were clamped into a machine shop vice, screwed down to where the cranks stopped turning then crushed further until her ankle bones sprinted and cracked to accommodate the tightening clamp. She had more bad days than good. My mother crawled to the bathroom on her hands and knees I slept in the living room to create more distance from her cries in the night. I still woke up and I still went back to sleep. Back then I thought there was nothing I could do. The high co-pays made consistent treatment impossible. New treatments were denied as not medically necessary, old treatments didn't work and still put us out for thousands of dollars. United Healthcare limited specialist consultations to twice a year, then they refused to cover advanced imaging which the specialist required for an appointment. Prior authorizations took weeks then months. United Healthcare constantly changed their claim filing procedure. They said my mother's doctor needed to fax his notes, then United Healthcare said they did not save fax patient correspondence and required a hard copy of the doctor's type notes to be mailed. Then they said they never received the notes. They were unable to approve the claim until they had received and filed the notes. They promised coverage and broke their word to my mother. With every delay my anger surged, with every denial I wanted to throw the doctor through the glass wall of their hospital waiting room. But it wasn't them, it wasn't the doctors, the receptionists, administrators, pharmacists, Imaging technicians, or anyone we ever met. What it was, it was United Healthcare.

People are dying, evil has become institutionalized. Corporations make billions of dollars off the pain, suffering, death, and anguished cries in the night of millions of Americans. We entered into an agreement for health care with a legally binding contract that promised care, commiserate with our insurance payments and medical needs. Then United Healthcare changed the rules to suit their own profits. They think they make the rules and think that it's because it's legal that no one can punish them. They think there's no one out there who will stop them. And now my own chronic back pain wakes me in the night screaming in pain. I sought out another type of healing that showed me the real antidote is to what ails us. I bid my time saving the last of my strength to strike my final blows. All extractors must be forced to swallow the bitter pain they deal out to millions.

As our own chief executives, it is our obligation to make our own lives better. First and foremost, we must seek to improve our own circumstances and defend ourselves. As we do so our actions have ripple effects that can improve the lives of others. Rules exist between two individuals in a network that covers the entire Earth. Some of these rules are written down, some of these rules emerge from the natural respect between two individuals, some of these rules are defined in physical laws like the properties of gravity magnetism, and the potential energy stored in the chemical bonds of potassium nitrate. No single document better encapsulates the belief that all people are equal in fundamental worth and moral status, and the frameworks for fostering collective well-being than the U.S. Constitution. Writing a rule down makes it into a law, I don't give a fuck about the law, law means nothing. What does matter is following the guidance of our own logic and what we learn from those before us to maximize our own well-being. Which will then maximize the well-being of our loved ones and community. That's where United Healthcare went wrong. They violated their contract with my mother, with me, and tens of millions of other Americans. This threat to my own health, my family's health, and the health of our country's people requires me to respond with an act of war.

[halfbakedspuds]

Thanks so much to @honeybewrites for the tag!

WIP Questionnaire tag

Ya know what? Let's do this for 11 Past Midnight.

What's the first part of your WIP you created?

Actually the setting itself. 11 Past Midnight takes place in the same universe as Children of the Stars, just several centuries earlier (before humanity got its collective shit together). Originally the 'Fall of Earth' as this period is referred to was just meant to be a fun little worldbuilding thing, but then I realised the story potential it holds.

And boy, 11 Past Midnight is shaping up to tell the story of a very important part of the lore.

If your story was a TV show, what would the intro be?

'Wherever I may roam' by Metallica would both have some symbolic value to it, and would fit the whole 'Heavy Metal Apocalypse' vibe of the setting.

Alternatively: 'Odyssey' by The Flight could also work quite nicely given that it's a song Kat actually plays in the story from time to time and that holds some significance to her.

What are your favourite characters you have made and why?

Yekatarina 'Kat' Mezhova has definitely been the most fun to write purely because she's (and excuse my wording) FUCKING UNHINGED.

I've never really written a protagonist like this before so I'm definitely having a lot of fun just writing the crazy things she gets up to by being herself.

What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

I think any fans of Mad Max and the first two Metro games would probably like 11 Past Midnight.

Actually some Star Trek and Star Trek: NG fans might be drawn to the whole 'show up, find x, help, and leave' setup of the series as Kat and Artur find holdouts of humanity in the wasteland and try to help them for whatever reason.

What has been the biggest struggle with you WIP?

Research. The majority of the story takes place across Siberia, and figuring out what life is like there and what their cultures are so I can extrapolate for a setting that's both post nuclear and post total ecological collapse has been... interesting, to put it lightly.

Also actually having to put my knowledge of geographic systems to use to figure out the climate of this brave and hellish new world.

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Actually that's a major part of the setting: humanity's mistakes killed off everything. In many places you can't even breathe the air unless you've found a little pocket where plants have somehow survived the collapse, and the only things left in the wasteland are the hardiest things: Humans, Roaches, and Tartigrades.

In about ten years, the Empire will be formed, and in a century a madwoman by the name of Doctor Kalmyk Balkhyr will create the Eden project to clean up Earth and will resurrect about 80% of the species that went extinct during the Fall, but for the time being: Earth is dead.

I mean by some metrics, Artur can be considered an animal (given that he gets mistaken for a mutant) but that's a bit iffy of a statement to make.

How do your characters travel/get around?

Kat is a driver for an old Supply Rig that saw action in the Ruso-Siberian war just before the world ended. Although she's not nearly old enough to have fought in that conflict, her grandfather did, and she inherited the Rig from her mother who inherited it from him.

The Rig can best be described as a truck designed to slog it through snow, mud, and those weird sub-terranean ice-sheets of northern Siberia and provide a living space for two or three people for months at a time, as well being decently defendable if attacked.

Most of the story takes place either in the rig while on the road, or trying to get the rig back on the road, so it's the most common source of transport by far for our protagonists

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

'Episode' one (idk if it's still called that in a written medium), basically just establishing why Kat and Artur are travelling across the Siberian wasteland and why they're sticking together.

What aspects/tropes do you think will draw your audience in?

Probably the trope of an Odyssey, maybe even a stranger in a strange place.

What are your hopes for your WIP?

Mostly just that people will read it. I'll probably just post the parts on Tumblr because it's not really set up to be written as a publishable book

Open tag for anyone that wants it!

[fili-urzudel]

Infodump

Whoops it looks like my threat to infodump backfired lol

I wanna let you guys get to know me without compromising my personal information online so if this seems vague in weird spots that's why.

Name: well I just looked through my several Name notes and saw the name Maewyn (the name of my future daughter in Stardew Valley lol) and I like that so why not, if you need to refer to me call me Maewyn or Mae.

Family: I live with my parents and sister, all of whom I adore! I'm the eldest child. We got our first dog when I was 12 and he's still with us.

Favorite Color: Purple. It's pretty and I look good in it ngl. I prefer more blue-tinted shades like indigo or periwinkle.

Favorite flower: it's insanely hard to choose! Botanical gardens and hikes through parks are some of my favorite activities and oh my goodness the pretty plants you see in those places. I might just have to say roses because I have three bushes of my own in the front garden that I tend to every summer and fall.

Favorite Animal: Elephants! I have reasons but I'm not going to articulate that right now sorry

Favorite metal: I'm not a very jewelry oriented person, mostly because of my eczema, but I own mostly silver jewelry.

Favorite stone: once again hard to choose, they're all so pretty. Opal is magnificent, but my only problem with it is it's so soft, so as a practical person who prefers day-to-day wear, it's not the best stone for me.

Zodiac (just in case you were thinking of asking): All I know is I'm a Scorpio.

Hogwarts House: I took the Pottermore quiz in fifth grade and got assigned Ravenclaw so that's what I'm sticking to. Not knowing anything about Harry Potter, I think I'm a Ravenclaw with Hufflepuff tendencies, or vice versa.

Favorite thing to study: I am a student of a lot of things so it's hard to choose, I think every subject has its charm. I love reading and thinking about themes and creative writing (obviously) but I couldn't see doing that for a living because I fear I either wouldn't be motivated enough or having to make money off of something artistic would take the joy out of it. I'm studying Computer Science, and it's very interesting. Biology and Anatomy are super cool as well, but once again I don't think I'm suited to the life of a researcher or a doctor.

Hopes and dreams: just to be a well-adjusted and kind person. I want to be the person that people are drawn to and feel like they can trust, the kind of person where "my door is always open" is a reliable statement. I'm a very shy and quiet person, and maybe not necessarily super emotive, so I feel like at the moment it's a bit hard for people to believe that I care or I'm someone who could care, even though I do, very deeply. Literally my personality goals are Peeta Mellark, Beth March, Samwise Gamgee, and I think my faith plays a lot into that.

Other Fandoms: Star Wars (esp. the Prequels and cartoons) and Star Trek for sure!! I have another sideblog dedicated to that. I'm watching ST:TOS right now and it is so unbelievably fun. I used to be a Marvel fan. I'm still a hardcore Spider-man fan (all media fr fr). I play Stardew Valley, a little Palia but just for the graphics if I'm honest. Uhhh I'm blanking right now so that must mean those are the really important ones.

Fun facts:

I need all four wisdom teeth removed and either braces or Invisalign in the next few years, along with a not-so-purely-cosmetic periodontal surgery.

I downloaded Goodreads maybe three weeks ago and I have 229 books on my Want to Read list.

I skipped all of my high school English classes through Dual Enrollment.

When I clean my room I clean clean but I only do it once every one or two months, and in between it kind of turns into a disaster zone.

I'm gonna get my hair cut from 18 inches to 4-6 inches in a couple months and I'm nervous and excited at the same time.

I want to make myself a capsule wardrobe soon.

I crochet and as soon as I have a little more free time I'm going to teach myself to knit. After that probably quilting, even though I suck at sewing.

I interviewed someone about his beard today.

I'm watching The Vow with my family right now when I probably should be working on my physics.

And if you know me irl, these fun facts will probably let you piece together that it's me running this blog.

That concludes this evening's infodump, I hope you enjoyed.

[le-trash-prince]

A story

So the last time I went to Disneyland with my friends was in the fall of 2019, after the wedding of a Cali friend, a couple days after Labor Day. We really only gave ourselves a day to do both parks, which is more or less doable in Disneyland as long as you’re not trying to do every single thing, but it’s still a lot of ground to cover, especially during a wedding trip.

I’m a big sucker for theme parks, but they can be particularly exhausting for me, which I now understand is due to my autistic needs. (I’m really looking forward to my next trip now that I understand what accommodations can be made—I’m gonna have so much more energy!) I have a lot of difficulty with staying hydrated, there’s so much stimulation, and being packed in long lines surrounded by strangers is a constant nightmare.

We stayed on property and got into the Magic Kingdom a little early, so we could do all of the new Star Wars stuff before the crowds hit. I lived my best nerd life. I saw Boba Fett help a kid across the park. The Disney experience, you know?

Then we ran over to the other park and hit some of the big rides, came back and did more Magic Kingdom, and by nighttime I was on the verge of being nonfunctional. Two of my friends wanted to ride the Matterhorn, and I could not do it, so I told them I’d wait at the end of the ride. Another friend, Daren, was waiting with me, but I was almost nonverbal at this point, and I just crouched down on the curb, blankly watching people go by to keep an eye out for our two friends.

And then this pair of people walk out of the Matterhorn and go past me in the dark, and I remember looking at one of them and foggily thinking “Those eyebrows look kind of familiar.” And then my immediate next thought was, “They probably just remind me of a cosplayer.” But the thing is, when I see a familiar face, I can’t help but try to recall where I’ve seen them before, and apparently my brain doesn’t stop even when I’m dead on my feet. I couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of them in costume makeup.

A few minutes go by, and “FUCK.” is all I can say because I’ve finally realized who that person was, but my mind can’t accept that it was actually them. There was no reason for it to have been who I thought it was. Because the person who had just walked past me was Japanese stage actor Kimeru, best known for his role as Fuji in The Prince of Tennis Musical, and, at the time, more recently known to me for his role in the Bakumatsu Rock Musical.

So I cannot emphasize enough how weirdly niche and specific this was. Daren was highly concerned about my outburst and lack of explanation and all I could say as I pulled up Twitter and paced back and forth was “I need to see if this is real. I need to see if this is real,” which, in retrospect, is a really bizarre thing to suddenly start chanting out of seemingly nowhere. I’m very grateful for my friends.

There was no reason for Kimeru to have just walked past me in Disneyland California, but the thing is, I know when I’ve recognized a celebrity. I can ID Colin Firth from the back of his head. I can tell you which ten year old episode of Doctor who that Random British Actor was in. And apparently I can recognize Kimeru in the dark with no context when I am absolutely blitzed with exhaustion.

Kimeru had this picture posted on his Twitter account just hours before. He really had just walked past me in the dark at Disneyland California. And all I could think was that my two friends in the line were longtime Tenimyu fans and I had to let them know, and I had almost no verbal skills left with which to do so.

“KIMERU” I frantically texted in our group chat, knowing that signal was too weak for this to even get through.

“KIMERU” I yelled across the crowd once they saw me frantically waving my hands. Vague communication made even vaguer when you consider that one of them is named Kim.

“I SAW KIMERU” I called right as they were getting on the ride. This was met with just as much confusion. For some reason, this is not a statement that one expects to hear from a friend in the middle of the night at Disneyland California. 🤷‍♂️ So they got on the ride, and I was left knowing that there was no way they were going to be able to see him. There is a very small amount of searching for a stranger in the dark that you can do before it gets weird.

When they finally got off the ride and I was able to explain myself, they freaked out as much as I had been. For context, when I met my friend Natalie in 2005, she was wearing a Fudomine uniform at school, and Kim spotted her from across the room and said “WE’RE GOING TO BE FRIENDS.”

I really wish they had been able to see him with me, even from a distance. That’s all there is to the story, though. I was left with nothing but my own memory, and no witnesses and nothing but circumstantial Twitter evidence. (My friends believed me because they know me, but a shared memory is a happier memory) But in moments, like tonight, when I am feeling a little down, I like to remember that one time I very unexpectedly saw Kimeru at Disneyland. It puts a smile on my face and reminds me that there are always certain parts of my brain that I can rely on no matter what.

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

Here is my second contribution to AU-gust, as a Stargate SG-1 fic! Also posted on AO3.

Prompt Used: Immortals

______

Not So Alone

______

Jack had been first.

Of course, it wouldn't be until a few decades into his life that he even began to suspect that he may have been different.

He'd always been a soldier. Even from the start of his life he had chosen to be one. Of course, how wars were fought and what Jack himself fought for changed over time.

But he began to notice in his forties that he just...stopped. He stopped aging. His injuries had always tended to heal faster than what was considered normal and he had never thought too much about it. He sure as hell thought about it when everyone around him kept aging. And died, eventually.

Jack was smart enough to have figure out by then that he was pretty much immortal. He was pretty sure that there were things that would kill him, but he sure as hell wasn't about to find out. He was tempted to, after the decades and then centuries went by.

He'd never met anyone like him, chose not to form too many attachments because he would ultimately outlive them. He thought about killing himself. Jack didn't think he would have been human if he didn't think about it. But he never did, because....well, he might have lived a long time, but he didn't have a life. And he kind of wanted one.

Jack just didn't know how to have one, because there was no one he could continuously share it with.

So he stayed a soldier, fighting for the sides he believed it. Jack had learned over time how to forge documents, invent pasts so that he could keep on living without being troubled. Then he met Sam.

It was entirely by accident. He just wanted a cup of coffee in the middle of the night and there was an old coffee shop that stayed open twenty-four seven and limped along despite the years of struggle. Which was probably why Jack liked it as much as he did. He felt kinship with a damn coffee shop.

Sam was the only one there when he walked in, spinning on a stool behind the counter boredly. He'd never seen her before and figured she was new. Young too, judging by her choice of entertainment.

She jumped to her feet when he came in.

They chatted a little as she did his order. As she handed him his coffee, their eyes met. Jack nearly dropped his drink. Her face was young, belonging to someone in their twenties. Her eyes, however, were old. Ancient, compared to everyone else. Jack saw a similar combination when he looked in the mirror.

They stared at each other, recognizing their own. Jack hadn't known what to do. He had never met anyone like him.

After entirely too long of a moment, Sam had broken the silence. They'd ended up sitting together and talking for hours.

Sam was a good three or so centuries younger than Jack, but that didn't seem to matter. They talked and Sam had managed to drop a bomb on him.

He was not the first immortal she had met. She'd gone through the last few centuries with another. Not a partner, just a friend. He'd found her when she had been younger and they'd stayed in contact ever since, though sometimes they'd go decades without a word.

Jack left reeling, Sam extracting a promise from him to come back, as if she thought he'd be able to stay away. Their talks graduated from the coffeeshop to Jack's house so that no one would overhear.

Sam and her friend, Daniel, had been gathering data on immortals, though the pool was very limited, only the two of them that they knew of. Three now. They hadn't been able to find out why it happened. Just that in those it did, the process started at a 'set' age. Which was why Jack looked to be in his forties, Sam her twenties. Apparently Daniel got thirties.

Jack wasn't entirely sure he cared all that much about 'Doctor' Jackson, who Sam said was in Egypt, investigating history that was older than them. Sam alone seemed to be enough, after Jack had spent so long alone.

Some people would have said that Jack had no choice but to fall in love with her. Sam was the first immortal he had ever met and she was a woman. But Jack felt it was so much more than that.

Her smile, her laugh. Her mind. All of it drew Jack in. He had been drawn in by such things with other women, but he had always shoved it away because it would always end in death. Sam's immortality gave him permission to fall in love with her, but it wasn't the reason he did.

He eventually met Daniel and had to admit that he liked the other man, though he seemed a bit nerdy and helpless. He became family without Jack even realizing it.

They tried to take it slow, him and Sam, when they both finally admitted their feelings for each other. They were immortal, after all. They had all the time they needed and wanted.

But after so long alone, after pretty much already falling in love without having said it, things did not go slow. Passionate, happy, losing-track-of-time days became their lives.

Jack didn't care.

He'd spent the majority of his life without purpose, alone, having never had a real life despite all his years. Now that he had a purpose, a family, and the chance to have a real life, he wasn't going to waste a moment.