#because none of my specialists are finding anything

[duality-disability]

Does any other disabled person with a mystery illness get the worry that their health problems are genetically caused?

like. I was adopted by my maternal grandparents. I dont know who my dad is, or his family history; My health issues are presenting in a way that no one else on my maternal side does, so I wonder if it's something that just.. Runs very strong genetically on my paternal side.

You don't know you're a zebra if you're in a pasture of horses, and well, you wont know unless someone tells you. A lot of the time you just get told "you're a weird lookin horse."

[commsroom]

circumstances surrounding the “leaked” documents about eiffel’s sentencing in need to know, as i understand them:

one of the very first things kepler does is offer eiffel, minkowski, and lovelace a drink. in true “at any given moment, kepler has about eighteen ulterior motives” spirit, it is, among other things, “hospitality”, sure, a test for eiffel, definitely, but… i think the main reaction he was checking for was minkowski’s. will she look at eiffel, or react to his reaction? how much does she know? how much does he trust her?

in don’t poke the bear, jacobi and maxwell stop lovelace from breaking into kepler’s server by pretending to be in on it with her: “she’s very good. it might turn into a problem.” / “i’ll run it by kepler.” two episodes later, files from kepler’s very secure server are “leaked.”

(the words "need to know" are spoken offhandedly by eiffel in the episode itself, but it also calls back to the excuse maxwell gives lovelace: "colonel kepler practically lives by the words 'need to know.' and, apparently, nothing i can say will ever convince him that i 'need to know' everything that's in our databanks.")

need to know opens with minkowski finishing an eleven hour shift, and then finding out kepler moved that shift to, well. now. she’s already frustrated and sleep deprived.

minkowski complains to kepler. jacobi and maxwell, on cue, barge in and complain to kepler. kepler assigns minkowski, jacobi, maxwell, and lovelace to punishment detail, taking eiffel out of the group because “you’re the only one who hasn’t wasted my time with pointless whining.” lovelace says: “um, i don’t think that i did any complaining either, so…” but that doesn’t matter. it’s just an excuse to remove eiffel from the group; he could just as easily have been singled out for special punishment. either way, it was going to happen.

hilbert isn’t there. not the most significant factor, since he’s already been effectively sidelined by kepler, but remember he already knows about eiffel’s sentencing, doesn’t care (about eiffel’s history OR about anyone else’s personal drama), and will later respond to minkowski asking by telling her to grow up and get back to work. it simplifies things to not factor him in.

consider the files themselves: we know from happy holidays that maxwell not talking to her family is common knowledge, but jacobi reacts like it’s news. we know from hera’s performance review flashback in memoria that kepler and jacobi were aware of “multiple attempted crew member homicides” in her record. the file about hera’s bentham directory was on kepler’s server. if there’s one person who would’ve been briefed on everything there was to know about hera, it would’ve been maxwell; her shock is entirely feigned. in fact, almost every reaction from jacobi and maxwell here is feigned. they’re black ops specialists who arrived prepared with divide-and-conquer tactics. there’s no reason they wouldn’t know these things. also note that none of the “leaks” reveal anything about the mission they didn’t already know, and that nothing about the si-5 is incriminating - if anything, it’s mostly silly and even humanizing. and, yes, all of that contextualizes maxwell’s reaction to “skiing?!”

eiffel’s file comes through last, once they’re already worn out. kepler sends eiffel to check on them at the same time so that he’ll walk in. jacobi shows minkowski the file. he lurks around waiting to see how her not-confrontation with eiffel goes, and then cements the thought in her head: what about you? are you going to care?

it’s true that there are aspects of the mission only kepler knows, but as far as information on the hephaestus crew goes (barring one very particular detail about lovelace)? that’s part of the job they were chosen for. when they kill the plant monster, kepler says: “you think we didn’t know about that thing? please. we listened to every log that you beamed down to canaveral.” kepler’s entire foundation is shaken when jacobi turns on him because this is how they operate: “have one person take the blame, say the mean things. meanwhile, the poor, betrayed little guy gets a bit more leeway - just enough to sneak up and hit you from behind.” the show is not subtle about any of this. you can pick apart any early-s3 interaction between two hephaestus crew members and an si-5 agent and see the same divide-and-conquer tactics at play. jacobi and maxwell are always - in morals, loyalty, job description - closer to kepler than they are to the hephaestus crew, and to even sort of believe otherwise is falling for that facade. it’s worth remembering that the hephaestus crew are prisoners. some of them were aware of it from the start, and some of them were lied to, but none of them were meant to leave. the si-5, on the other hand, went up there with a unified goal, and the knowing intention they would be, among other things, prison guards.

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

I'm allowed to "give up" on treatment

I got sick with COVID in January of 2020 when I was 19 years old. Instead of getting better I gradually got worse and by April I was nearly bedbound with CFS/ME. I have been unable to work this whole time and was only able to return to college (part time) in 2022.

I've been in a physical health crisis since the onset of my illness. Even with resting pretty much all the time I was getting sicker and sicker. It was a race to find a treatment that worked before I got bad enough that I needed help that my parents couldn't provide. It was a race to get well enough to get out of my parents' house so that I didn't have to deal with the abuse between them and directed at me. It was a race to convince SSI that I was really disabled so I could get the money I needed to live on my own.

After I sorted out my last big health crisis I made the decision to stop seeking treatment for a time. I would try treatments or cures if they were offered to me, but they're not being offered right now because they don't exist. I don't know for how long, or what level of efficacy a treatment would need to have to convince me to give it a try, but for now I'm limiting doctor's visits to mental health stuff, checkups, vaccines, and treatment for any new or acute symptoms. I got SSI, I'm on two meds that are working to reduce my symptoms, I have a better powerchair now, and I'm living in accessible housing. My race is over.

My parents, especially my mom, were upset with this decision. They don't or can't grasp that my condition is not treatable despite me saying it all the time. My mom especially also doesn't understand that doctor's appointments aren't neutral for me, that they're usually negative and difficult. When I was constantly going to the doctor I was dealing with people who didn't understand my limits, who didn't understand ME/CFS, and were "willing to learn" at best. It was exhausting. None of the doctors I saw could provide me with more than they could find from an internet search, except for the specific CFS specialist who prescribed my current medications. Most doctors didn't even know the difference between chronic fatigue as a symptom and chronic fatigue syndrome and would just run diagnostics on me trying to find the "cause" of my CF even after I told them what it was. Every time I left an appointment I was depressed, hopeless, and angry. I was in a mental health crisis for days or weeks following each appointment because the doctor would show pity or even horror about how disabled I was and then not offer anything that would help me.

I debated whether I was even going to talk about this or if I was just going to stop. There's such a stigma around accepting your condition and moving on, especially if you're reliant on others or the government for care. But I want to say that regardless of what people around you are saying it's fine to be tired of doctors. It's fine to want a break or to want to stop altogether. People who have never dealt with chronic issues have a difficult time grasping how exhausting constant medical care can be, especially when you continue to be the same level of sick throughout the entire ordeal. You don't have to continue wearing yourself out to please people who don't understand what you're going through.

[specialagentlokitty]

Saul silva x reader - in the eyes of a god

Part 2:

Saul kept his eye o it for you during the entirety of the training session, but you weren’t anywhere to be found.

He wasn’t sure what you were, if what you said was true or not, so when training came to an end he headed to the library.

Alfea wasn’t exactly short of books, especially books based of its history and similar themes, so there was no doubt in his mind there would’ve been something.

He decided to look for books on family insignias, no doubt that’s what was engraved into your wrist brace, so it would be easier to track who you were or at least what family you belonged to.

Taking the book he was looking for from the shelf, he walked over to a table and set it down, turning the lamp on.

He sat down, and began the process of looking through each and every one if the pages.

None of the ones he was coming across seemed like a match, and he sighed, setting the book aside.

“Looking for something?” Farah asked.

“You remember the person who attacked the specialists?”

She nodded her head, making her way over.

“Yes, I did try to track them, but I couldn’t find anything, not even a magic trail was left behind.”

“That’s impossible, they used magic Farah, I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“Then they’re incredible at covering their tracks, because I couldn’t find one, even Ben tried, nothing he made showed any trace on that scorch mark.”

He pinched the bridge if his nose, tilting his head back slightly.

“I’ve had a look, I can’t find the insignia. It’s the only book we have as well.”

Farah stood next to him, taking a look at the cover of the book before she shook her head.

“There is another one, hold on.”

Taking the book he was looking through, and placed it back on the shelf, then she walked back over, gesturing for him to follow her.

They both made their way to the far end of the library, to the restricted section, and she opened it, letting them both in.

“I keep this one locked away because of the types of families that are included. Students don’t need to know about these people, or what they’ve done.”

Farah walked over to a shelf, unlocking a glass cabinet and she pulled out a book, placing it on the pedestal.

“Most of these were known dangerous families, it individuals, all of them are long gone, but it was settled that it was for the best that they couldn’t possibly find a link between these people and them if they’re related.”

Saul opened the book, slowly going through the pages, and some of the names he recognised.

Some were renowned threats to the realm years ago, some of them were taught in basic classes, as a lesson about how dangerous it was to mess with magic.

Others he had never heard off.

“This one.”

He pointed to the page and Farah looked at it.

“The (L/N) family, not really noticeable for anything truly significant. There’s no real history on them or the people of the family, or family tree or anything. It’s not really known what kind of family they were or what powers they possessed.” Farah read.

Saul nodded his head, then turned the page, and he studied the image, pointing to it.

“Not until this one at least. The only member of the family that made any sort of name for themselves.”

“(Y/N) (L/N), age unknown, strength unknown, agility unknown, powers unknown. The only thing reported about them is the fact they could summon lightening.”

“Air fairy?” He asked.

“I don’t think so, it takes a lot of power and training to do something like that more than once. If they are they definitely spent time practicing. What else does it say?”

Saul turned back to the book.

“(Y/N) was a general for the solarian army, it doesn’t say when, they were strong but unpredictable, always rushing head first into battle, as time went on it was reported that they slowly began to slip into a state of bloodlust, became too dangerous. One day they just disappeared. It was rumoured they were executed but it was never confirmed.”

Farah nodded her head, and Saul closed the book, handing it back to her so she could put it away.

“It isn’t far off that they wound become the god of war, people have become gods for far less. I mean looked at your family tree, your ancestor became the god of blacksmithing.”

Saul sighed, leaving the enclosed space and he waited for her on the other side.

“Even if that’s true, they don’t interact with people, not without reason. All of them also left when modern technology came about, they didn’t like it.”

“When was the first time you encountered them?”

“Training, I was in the middle of putting up one of the ribbons when they attacked.”

“Well if that was their shrine then they wouldn’t have liked you leaving something there, and what brought them here?”

Saul followed Farah out of the library and down the hallway.

“Riven stole something from the shrine and they wanted it back, then engaged me in combat but never threw a hit at me.”

“They could’ve seriously hurt any one of you if they really wanted to, but they didn’t.”

“Exactly, so, why are they still here?”

“What makes you think they are?”

Saul stopped for a moment, looking out if the window.

“It’s a feeling I have, but I can’t find them.”

Farah placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Get some rest, I’m sure they’ll leave you alone now.”

He nodded, making his way back to his room to get ready to sleep.

Knowing you were out there it made it hard for him to get a good sleep, even as days slipped by he still found it hard to properly rest.

You studied his training, watching how he taught his students and it made you scoff slightly.

He was good, you’d give him that.

Standing in the wall, you crossed your arms as you looked down at him tidying the training grounds.

“You’re strong, but your form is inadequate at best. You’re still, you have now fluidity to your movements. Seriously, who taught you such weak fighting stances?” You huffed.

Saul drew his sword and looked towards the wall that you had shouted down from.

You titled your head to the side a little bit, grinning ever so slightly.

“Seriously, you pass your technique on and they just change it, rather disrespectful if you ask me.”

Putting your hands in your pockets you titled your head back just a little bit.

“I could easily defeat you with my hands in my pockets.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asked.

Going based of what Saul had read about you he theorised that you wouldn’t be one to turn away when presented with a challenge.

You had a big ego, and you would do anything to prove that you’re stronger than anybody.

So when you grinned even more, eyes widening slightly with excitement he knew he was right.

You jumped down, bringing your hands up to unclasped your cloak, then you took your sword off and dropped it next to your cloak.

You put your hands in your pockets, and you looked down your nose at him.

“It absolutely is. If you manage to win I’ll train you myself to be a true fighter.”

“And if you win?”

You shrugged slightly.

“You have nothing I could want, I just think it’ll be fun. I’ve done my research on your Saul silva, the best specialist in Solaria, let’s see if you live up to that name shall we? Don’t hold back now.”

Saul charged for you, swinging his sword, and just as quick as blink of an eye, you were gone, you stood behind him, turning to the side as he swung the sword backwards.

You were just toying with him, sometimes you’d let him get close to managing to land a hit on you, other times you would just completely avoid his advances.

Even without you attacking back, hands in your pockets he couldn’t even get a scratch in you.

You were fast, agile and able to move in ways he hadn’t even seen before.

You had a unique technique that was unpredictable, he couldn’t guess your next move or where you were going to move to next.

You kept going around in circles around him, ducking, jumping, moving from side to side.

You weren’t even breaking a sweat.

“Oh you are determined, I admire that. I remember when my foes had such determination, oh how fun it was to watch them fall!”

You spun around, finally bringing your leg up and you slammed it into his chest, sending him flying backwards, sword falling from his grasp.

Walking over to him, you stood above his head, leaning down to look at him, a frown on your face.

“You’re predicable, it’s pathetic. You don’t change your routine, it makes it easy to guess your next move.”

Huffing, you stood up, walking over to his sword you you kicked it over, then made your way to your things.

You put your sword back on your belt, then picked your cloak up, putting it back around your shoulders and turned around to look at him.

“Swordsmanship used to be a craft of art, now it’s just a pitiful display. That really pisses me off.”

“Well it’s not fair if I’m fighting an apparent god.”

Saul ran at you once more, this time you didn’t even move, you just reached out, grabbing his wrist, bending it it backwards so he would drop his sword.

“Never go for the cheap shot, it pisses me off when somebody tries to use a cheap shot, that’s not very respectful you know.”

“Respectful?” He scoffed.

You pushed him back, placing your foot on his sword to stop his advances in order to get it.

“You must always respect your opponent Saul Silva, if you don’t you get cocky, if you get cocky you get killed.”

“You’re cocky.”

You scoffed a little, placing your foot under his sword you kicked it up, catching it by the hilt as you studied it.

Jumping backwards you landed on the wall so he wasn’t able to reach you.

“I’m not cocky, I know what I can do. There’s a difference.”

You looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Your sword is dull, it’s weak.”

You threw it down, stabbing it into the ground below.

“You give swordsmen a bad name with your horrific training, your terrible weapons.”

He scoffed, walking over to pick up his sword and he put it away.

You clearly weren’t going to attack him, you had absolutely no interest in that whatsoever.

Whether you enjoyed taunting him or trying to piss him off was behind you.

A smirk slowly spread across your face, and you crouched down, resting your arms on your knees.

“I’ll train you.”

“What makes you think I’d want that? Plus I never won the fight.”

“I admire your dedication to the craft none the less.”

Standing up, you pointed at him.

“You shall be my prodigy!”

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.25

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: None

As it gets later, out of curiosity, I follow some of the specialists and find myself in a canteen that looks like one in an old barracks. When I see the sad state of this place, I can only roll my eyes. This building is far from up-to-date. In search of a quiet place, I walk past it, turn a corner, and step into a notch. I put my hand on the building wall, connecting myself with the building to bring the look of the canteen and its decoration closer to modern standards. 

Instead of a large square room, I rounded it off with large windows that look out onto the inner garden, which most people have probably never seen before. I also gave it a first, second, and third floor, with a large chandelier hanging from the much higher ceiling, ending at the third row of windows. The first floor covers three-quarters of the ground floor, while the second covers two-thirds, and the third floor covers half. The tables are more luxurious, made of sturdier wood, and the chairs are almost as comfortable as those in a palace. However, columns sometimes make the large rooms narrower.

A squeak escapes my throat as I come back to myself. "Shit, dude. What the fuck?" I asked the person who snapped me out of my head.

"Where were you?" His heated voice, different from the calm and relaxed one I'm used to from him, is already making me nervous.

I look for a way out, ready to dodge all his questions, but he smacks me in the back of the head before I can do so. With my eyes wide open in shock, I'm ready to unleash a torrent of words at him, but he hits the back of my head again, leaving me speechless.

"You're such an idiot!" he shouted at me. "I was worried when I didn't find you in the hospital room," he mumbles further. "Do you even know how many rooms there are here?"

"Well, I do, but I'm sure that's not the point."

"Of course not, you fucking idiot!" His fists are clenched at his sides. When I finally realize that I messed up, I hang my head.

"I'm sorry, okay? My mind is a bit foggy, but I can't tell you why, after all, you're as much of a traitor as my parents; you have to accept that I'm not going to tell you as much as you'd like." Seeing that he's about to argue, I raise my hand. "Don't you dare say otherwise!" I warn him. "My grandfather is no longer my ally, nor my family; after all, he is forcing me to marry someone I met once. Cory. Once! This hasn't happened since the Vulcor tragedy; that only happened because a member of my family was forced to marry someone he didn't love." I repeat our world history. "What's going to happen this time? Is the rest of our world supposed to drown in our seemingly endless oceans?"

I can't explain my anger, but I'm ready to put Cory in his place for the rest of our lives. While I'm sure it wouldn't help us move on to greener pastures together, it would calm the raging anger in my heart.

"Only when you swear your eternity to me will I let you back in, but until then I will never accept you as a friend or an ally because I simply cannot trust you."

I push past him without giving him a chance to say anything else, and I shove his shoulder so hard that he almost flies against the wall. I walk past the new canteen with long strides but still take a quick look inside. A gentle smile graces my lips as I see how much more comfortable it looks now. But unfortunately, I also meet the brown eyes of a certain specialist who I don't want to talk to right now.

Sky raises his hand and waves at me, but I avert my gaze and run away quickly, my steps faster than I intended. I jog around a group of girls, bowing my head slightly so they don't get any funny ideas. They can't be trusted either. I have no idea where I'm running, but I'm not stopping either.

It's only when I reach the room where I'm supposed to sleep that I finally stop jogging. When I get inside, I see all my things lying on a bed, which I'm sure Sky put there. Once I reach the bed, I dig through my stuff until I find my sword, the rusty beauty that will surely one day be as legendary as it is meant to be.

With the weapon, which feels like an extension of myself, in my hand, I step back into the hallway, walking straight ahead, past the main entrance, all the way down, then taking the hallway to the right, at the end of which I can barely make out the door I had been sleeping in while recovering. I head down the hallway to the right, away from this room, and walk until I reach another circular room. Although there are other corridors, my gaze remains fixed on the large wooden doors in front of me; it looks like no one has ever been here beforehand.

Honestly? It's not even a miracle; considering the inside of the building is about a hundred times bigger than it looks from the outside, it's a pretty cool magic trick.

I put both hands against the doors and opened them easily. Behind them is a small staircase, with two statues on either side looking down on a large open space. From where he stands, he can easily reach the statues as they are level with my feet, but just a few steps in front of the statues, the level drops immediately.

I go down the stairs, but only when I get to the bottom can I see the entire room. It's clearly a training hall, perfectly tailored for specialists and fairies. While the left side is just for the fairies and the right is just for specialists, the middle is a battlefield with activatable walls, simulated buildings, and everything a warmonger's heart could desire. It's only rudimentary, as I've never trained in a place like this—part simulation and part real world—but I'm sure it will work.

I ignore everything, as it's just a shortcut right now. I head straight to the other side, where there's a perfect mirror image of the entrance. After opening the doors, I enter another round room that leads to changing rooms. As before, the right side is designated for the specialists, while the left is appointed for the fairies.

When I look at the two doors, I don't go through the pink one on the left—even though I'm a fairy myself—but through the blue one on the right, just so the fairies don't mistakenly conclude that I'm a pervert again. I can only roll my eyes at the thought. It still gets on my nerves to no end.

As I walk in, I see that the room is also circular. Everyone has their own small cubicle with a safe, a locker, a bench, and even towels hanging there. The only problem is that, despite the presence of several hundred students, only about 24 people fit into one of these circles. The only solution was to make more circles. As I continue straight ahead, there are several rooms to the left and right; it almost looks like a room with endless mirrors.

It takes me a minute to reach the other side of the long changing room, but when I get there, I leave immediately and find myself in a hallway, facing several more doors. But this time I turn left and almost immediately reach a door that leads outside. It's one of two back doors. The second door is on the other side of the building.

Finally getting outside, I breathe in the fresh and slightly humid evening air, the perfect time for some exercise.

The sounds of the nearby forest, the singing of birds, the buzzing of insects, and the cracking of old wood are more relaxing than I first thought.

From the exit, I walk a bit until I am almost directly in the forest. Between the trees, I come to a halt. I turn to the side, straighten my back, hold the sword in both hands, raise it above my hand, and swing it downward. I repeat the movement over and over again, with the same intensity and strength. It doesn't take long before I feel myself slipping into the rhythm as my mind goes blank—exactly what I needed.

Completely relaxed, like I haven't felt in a long time, I swing my sword as if there were no tomorrow. Nothing can stop me—not the looks I can sense from somewhere, not the bird that nests on my head, not even the few smaller animals that sniff my legs.

Except for the icy, biting breeze. I am jolted back to reality as my body suddenly trembles from the cold. As I look around, I can barely see my hand in front of my eyes; the faint moonlight just isn't enough to make out anything about my surroundings. Because of my long training, my entire body is covered in so much sweat that I almost freeze my butt off.

My teeth chatter without my consent, and my hands clench around the hilt of my sword. Even though I'm still fully clothed—I haven't even bothered to put on my gym clothes—I feel like an idiot. Everything is almost glued to me. Sometimes I truly wonder where my head is. It's obviously not where it should be—in my skull.

Trembling, I walk back to the building, only to realize my mistake from earlier. Looking along the side of the building, in the pale moonlight, I can barely make out the corner of the front of the structure, only a few hundred meters away. Rather than walk all the way back into the building, I should probably just go around the outside.

With a satisfied groan, I keep standing there for a second to enjoy the warmth, but at the same time, to my surprise, the lights in the hallway turn on by themselves. I am taken aback, but after a short moment, instead of confusion, a smile crosses my lips. However, I can only thank the building inside my head because I am too exhausted to do it any other way.

With slow steps, I walk back to the main entrance of the school, where the boys' dormitories are located. But the closer I get, the more I notice how quiet it is. Not just quiet, but dead silent. Only then do I realize how late it actually is. When I'm almost back at the door to my room, I'm still thinking about what to do. But when I remember my roommates, my decision is already made because I don't want to be near two of them. Who knows what they do if they got their hands on my unconscious body?

I like my life, so instead of going in there, I walk a few meters back to one of the arches at the start of the hallway leading off the round foyer. Behind the arch is a living room with many couches, books, games, a fireplace, and a TV. It is rather old-fashioned.

I go deeper into the room, close to the fireplace. I turn it on, and the house lets the fire burn endlessly. It quickly warms up my ice-cold body. I pull one of the sofas closer and lie down on it, and not a second later, I already feel cozy and sleepy. The first day is over. Now there are only five years left. It can only get fucking worse.

[Masterlist]

[concerningwolves]

I've been walking around with this hypermobility diagnosis my entire life, and no medical professional ever told me definitively what it means. My parents can't remember specifically when I was diagnosed or who by – I was a severely premature baby with a rare disorder and a slew of other health issues, and the hypermobility got lost somewhere in there with all the other medical noise. Mostly, I was left to see hypermobility as something that made me super bendy and was fun to pull out at parties when I made all my fingers bend weirdly.

Everything I have been told about hypermobility came to me piecemeal, usually by happenstance. A nurse who said that the hypermobility explained why it was always difficult to draw my blood. A GP who mentioned that hypermobility was likely why my ankle hadn't broken, but had instead subluxated and then been left to heal incorrectly because it'd been misdiagnosed as a sprain. A rheumatologist who I was only seeing because of a colossal fuckup, who explained that hypermobility makes you far more prone to bruising. Everything else, I had to find out under my own steam, trawling websites repeatedly over the years and watching as the body of information grew.

When I went to my paediatrician with joint pain, she told me it was growing pains on multiple occasions. I've been to physiotherapy three times and multiple OTs when I was younger and none of them noticed that my knees' resting position was hyperextended. (It took 22 years and the aforementioned colossal fuckup that landed me back at rheumatology instead of seeing the chronic pain specialist nurse for someone to tell me that that wasn't normal.) PE teachers and gymnastics instructors made me feel lazy and inadequate and work-shy instead of thinking hey, this child has told us he's hypermobile, maybe we should pay attention to that. For a little while I got to use a portable slanted desk in middle school which was meant to make writing easier for me in lessons (it didn't). In high school I got to use an AlphaSmart – not because anyone listened when I explained that writing caused me serious hand pain, but because I was writing too slowly to keep up in lessons (and I was still told repeatedly by teachers that they were surprised I needed the AlphaSmart because my handwriting was so neat, as if that had anything to do with anything). It wasn't until my GCSEs that I first got serious accommodations in exams.

Did all those doctors I saw about my pain just think I was, I don't know, too young to be sick? I was born sick. It was there in my records! They knew, and they either decided I was some other speciality's problem or they straight up did not care.

Children can be ill and disabled. More than that, they deserve to be given all the information they might need and be offered necessary accommodations. They should be listened to! Parents shouldn't have to fight and claw for something as simple as a crappy plastic slanted desk. If I could trawl my brain to extract everything I'm feeling right now and inject it into the minds of every doctor who failed me, I would.

[magixfairyix]

Zenothe

(Currently creating lore in my head for different universes/characters in Winx Club, so introducing the first out of three for Darcy's planet, that is not cannon but in my two fanfictions it is: Zenothe)

~Several Earth cultures have roots and influences from similar ones in the Magical Dimension, and the practice of modern-day witchcraft is one of them. In the year 58 A.D. (after the Great Dragon's descent onto the planet of Domino, therefore creating the Magic Dimension) several witches from Domino migrated to Earth to find peace, as at this time it was just found out that every witch had roots in a creature from Oscurita that had just been closed. Witches were also figuring out how to use their powers as no one knew how witch magic worked and that one must use negative emotions.

~When the Wizards of the Black Circle went to Tir Nan Og (all of the wizards were outcasted and wanted revenge on fairies) the witches left Earth, knowing that the fairies always hated them and that they didn't owe them anything.

~The witches then transported themselves to a dark planet that orbited Solaria's moon, which was uninhabited. It was dim most of the time and greyish, but still beautiful. It was completely empty and barren. One of the witches sacrificed her body for everyone else to perform a siphoning ritual that made plants begin to grow from her last life force and magic, and they have a holiday for this. (The Day of Life). The witch's name was Ruse, hence the Grimore of Ruse, where all the main laws of Zenothe are kept

~The original witches (originally from Domino) created a small altar with a dark flame, known as the lifeblood of Zenothe considering it has none as it was dead before they arrived. Domino's lifeblood is the Great Dragon, Solaria's in the three suns, etc.

~They began to build the towns there using the trees around the area and soon built a good place. Over the years to the current day, it hasn't changed much, but they've added some more technology to their lives.

~Eventually, word got out and witches who were also disliked went to Zenothe and soon the population grew. They practiced their traditions in peace and were sort of outcasted from the rest of the Magical Dimension, though trade deals are still substantial between Zenothe and Linfea.

~Zenothe is prosperous in ore, rare plants for potions and rituals, and animals for meat and whatnot (and... also rituals lol). Linfea is prosperous in plants, produce and plants that need a lot of sunlight but does not have any ore.

~Any faries or specialists who want to live there are welcome, but it is common courtesy across the Magical Dimension to respect the customs of the planets one visits. As long as you follow Zenothian customs---outlaid in the Grimore of Ruse.

~However, the Grimoire can be added to as long as it is negotiated with the citizens and the coven heads. You'll be fine and welcome if you come to Zenothe, but if you don't purposfully follow customs then expect glares. The same goes for other planets anyway

~(Population: 89% witches, 6% specialists/wizards, 5% faries)

~Grimore of Ruse: 15 Zenothian Customs, one created by each of the 15 witches that first arrived at Zenothe from Domino. But other witches came to Zenothe afterwards so no incest occurred. Also, someone from specific planets can request a Zenothian trail before the Coven Heads.

~The ones with this agreement are Linfea/Zenothe and are allowed to request trials from each other, but in the current day (after my story S.S.S. when the Shaman Witch is defeated and everyone relatively goes back to their lives) planets such as Solaria and Diamond are trying to form trade alliances.

~Solaria for rare plantlife that doesn't grow in the sun, and Diamond for the same reason and animals because they are rebuilding thier ecosystem after the fall of the Shaman Witch and while Icy is crown princess.

~Grimoire of Ruse:

(From Ruse) Always respect the resources the land gives you; the magic, the plants, the animals, and all natural resources.

2. Treat all with respect to matter the past, present, or future. (May exclude the below if the act was purposful with no sign of mental damage).

3. Those charged with acts of sexual assualt if purposful and void of mental damage will be magically and perminantly circumcised no matter the sex.

4. Welcome all to Zenothe as long as customs are followed, and one has the responsability to follow the customs of the plants they go to.

5. The people have the right to overthrow the Coven heads if they choose to ignore the wishes of the people/ignore the Grimore of Ruse and call for a re-election.

6. The people have the right to free speech, religion, and freedom of action as long as one does not abuse this right to make others feel unwelcome/un-respected (which most people do not abuse this right.)

7. No matter the act all are entitled to a trail in front of the Coven Heads (basically the main covens are the government and sub-covens can be invited/requested/can request to be a part of a trail) and the people of Zenothe.

8. If part of a designated coven one must uphold the values of said coven or else face warnings (one is entitled to three unexcused warnings) or expulsion from the coven for a maximum of two years.

9. Magea (faries, specialists, witches, wizards, undines, pixies, etc) sacrifices are illegal unless facing life or death circumstances and the act is voluntary. Creature (the word animal isn't used in the Magical Dimension) sacrifices are only legal if necessary and approved by Coven Cervus and all its members, as well as Coven Tempus. (More information about the covens is later on)

10. Complete eradication of any plant or animal species (if under one's own control) will have the individual face banishment from Zenothe for 50 consecutive years.

11. One can be a part of multiple covens, though only a maximum of two head covens/one head coven and two sub-covens. Freelance covens do not fall under this category, though freelance covens are able to name themselves as representatives should a trial occur.

12. One can gain Zenothian citizenship if in residency for two years, if five citizens of Zenothe can vouch for one's character, and if one swears to follow the Grimore of Ruse when residing in Zenothe for the Zenothian customs may not apply to other planets.

13. All are welcome upon passing (excluding those who had committed one of the unspeakable crimes under thier own control, these said crimes shown below) to have thier magical essence removed from thier body and siphoned over to a pendulum to hang from the Tree of Life all years past thier death; to non-sentiently give wisdom to the citizens of Zenothe.

14. The unspeakable crimes are as follows (if acted under one's own control of self and magic and sane train of thought): s$xual @ssault, eradication of any plant or animal species, murd$r, any sort of @buse

15. Those who had committed any of the unspeakable crimes under thier own control and sane train of thought will have thier Zenothian citizenship permanently removed and may face additional charges as decided by the Head Covens and the citizens of Zenothe.

~Zenothe, like a lot of the Magical Dimension, does not unnecessarily gender things. Even Solaria or Erakleon does not require male royalty to wear suits and female royalty to wear dresses and gowns. More so only during large celebrations out of traditions for those two planets. But Domino and Diamond says fuck it. Let the queens wear suits and let's get Oritel in a dress.

~If things are like that on other planets it is because of tradition and not because of outright hate. Such as not wanting a prince to marry another prince as the bloodline must continue. But honestly, most planets will accept two princes marrying each other if they find a doner of a royal lineage. Erakleon and Andros are more strict on that and less lenient because of tradition, but some people are just assholes it's not a planet-wide hate thing.

~As Zenothe runs on an electoral democracy (different powerful coven heads are elected and nominations for others can occur) monarchy and lineage means fuck all. Powerful witches with powerful lineages are still respected, but they have a belief that power can always be developed and that everyone is valued. 

~There are five primary covens that oversee different aspects, and the coven heads receive applications for the covens and normally open any who are dedicated to putting the work into it.

Coven Viridis: Oversees the plant life of Zenothe and makes sure that no plant species are overused. Consists primarily of nature magea (mainly plant element, air element, ground element, along those lines)

2. Coven Cervus: Oversees the animal life of Zenothe, sets protections, healthy and ethical hunting. (Magea can be vegan, vegetarian, et cetera but just respect all. As long as you respect where the meat comes from). A sub-section of Coven Cervus is the Protectors (Darcy joins them later on after the events of S.S.S.) who research wildlife, new species, and dangerous species, and also stop them from getting too close to the several main settlements.

3. Coven Societas: Oversees meetings between covens/disputes that concern economics or societal structure. Makes sure the currency/pay rate is going well, watches over supply and demand and intervenes if needed.

4. Coven Homines: Oversees Coven Council meetings, Coven Head elections, how well the covens are functioning, school systems, and social programs. People stuff. Also suggestions to the Grimoire of Ruse along with the last coven.

5. Coven Tempus: Oversees the traditions/customs/events of Zenothe. Reads over the Grimore of Ruse, and suggestions to it but they can only happen if agreed by all five of the Covens and the people of Zenothe.

~One can be a part of a primary coven (or multiple but it's like a full-time job so it's not recommended, and yes, you get paid) and be part of a sub coven. Primary covens are funded by Coven Societas. Sub-covens are not named typically and are funded by grants from Coven Societas and donations, also pay a good amount but just a bit less.

~Zenothian Corpus Os (body bone, as until the trade deal with Linfea started they used bones from animals as currency) is the currency. They still use the name even though they use Linfean currency: Diya, small compressed coin-like disks of compressed plant waste/fossilized wood/other. 

~The exchange rate between Diya/Corpus Os to Earth dollars is 5 U.S. dollars for every 1 Diya/Corpus Os. It has more value than the typical dollar and one can go to Coven Societas to cut some of thier Corpus Os in halves/quarters for smaller purchases.

~Primary Coven wage: 24 Corpus Os per day of satisfactory work. 9 am to 5 pm is one day of work, and one can request extra work/overtime. (Deemed satisfactory by the observer, with one in each group working within the coven.)

~Sub-Coven wage: 15 Corpus Os per day of satisfactory work. 10 am to 3 pm is one day of work, and one can request extra work/overtime up to two extra hours otherwise the sub-coven hours become primary coven hours, which have to be observed by one of the primary covens. Usually for those with two incomes/with children, which is why two combined is more than the primary coven wage because children do be expensive.

~Normal job wage: 21 Corpus Os per day (9 am to 5 pm) or 12 Corpus Os per day (10am to 3pm). It is not as organized and one can self-direct more, so it normally includes less work in a lot of cases. Normal jobs are not that common

~Since witches were too busy trying to find somewhere where they were not hated gender also means fuck all. Concepts of boys, girls, man, woman, not either, et cetera, and whatnot still exist in Zenothe but they're more of a term to express oneself instead of assigning a gender based on sex. Also, with sexual orientation people have preferences and typically you don't need a word for them, but honestly, you can have a word for it (migration between planets brings new words woohoo) or not and either way people will love you.

~Just depends on whether you want a label or not.

(Zenothe is top tier we love it.)

~So if you take someone from Zenothe, bring them to Earth, and someone rudely tells them girls must wear dresses (and that French genders literal ice cream as masculine) they'll generally be like "Why wtf?" and debunk every possible argument.

(More information regarding Zenothe and my headcanons for Winx Club hopefully will come soon)

(Genually I spent too long on this but eheh)

[holly-louisexox]

Ribcage X Andy Biersack- Part 22

Masterlist

"There's one thing you should know about me Delia Vincent, I don't date. Got no heart to break and emptiness is safe, keep it that way."

He was adamant in his choices...

...But then things changed

"This is officer John Davies interviewing the case of a missing person known as Delia Grace Vincent, 2nd of December." The police offer start the interview with Shevy and the band by speaking into the audio recorder that he had brought along for information. "First of all, Does Miss Vincent have anyone on Seattle she may have taken refuge with?"

"No, Delia's from Ohio, she lives there with her parents." Shevy explains. "We came to Seattle for a tour, these guys are in a band, myself and Delia are crew managers and department specialists."

"Would you say this disappearing is out of character to her?" Officer Davies continues to question.

"Very. Delia's been nothing but professional this whole tour, she would never just up and leave like this. Plus her items were still in her hotel room suggesting she never came back last night." Lonny explains, he almost felt like he was having to prove to this police officer that Delia was not a bad person.

"And how do you mean 'she never came back last night'? Where you guys out last night?" The officer asks lifting an eyebrow to the group; he was trying to get every detail out of the group to try and find anything that would lead the team to knowing the whereabouts of Delia.

"We had a show here last night and it was the last show of tour so we went for drinks at the pub down the road to celebrate." Jake tells the officer.

"Did anything happen that could have influenced the disappearance?" Officer Davies asks which makes Andy gulp nervously, was the officer going to completely blame him? He guessed he was at fault for this but he just wanted her back safe, he never wanted her to go missing, to get hurt, or worst, killed.

"I may have had a bit of a disagreement with her last night... She slapped me round the face then stormed off outside." Andy stutters out trying not to let his voice crack and start crying again. "But that was the last time I saw her or heard from her."

"What was the disagreement about?" The officer is now focusing his attention on Andy which made the lead singer feel more nerves and a weight on his chest; he was not about to let himself break down now though.

"I hadn't been completely truthful or fair to her. The truth is I really liked her but was too closed to show it so pushed her away. Then last night I couldn't do it anymore and I realised I needed her so I told her and she reacted badly to it. I can't say I blame her but yeah... She left because of me. We all knew what was going on here in Seattle and I let her leave, it's all my fault." Andy heard his voice crack at the end, felt the tears he was trying to keep in fall down his face.

"You can't blame yourself for this son." Officer Davies breaks his serious vibe to show some sympathy towards the crying singer. "Has anyone had any contact with her since last night?"

"No, none. We've tried calling her and it just rings and rings until it goes to voicemail." Shevy explains.

"Okay that could be useful, if someone could give me Miss Vincent's number, we may be able to track the location of the phone to help find her." Officer Davies announce which instantly brings some hope to the group and Lonny is instantly pulling his phone out of his pocket to search for Delia's number.

"I have her number here." Lonny perks up before reading out the number.

"Okay that will be helpful and we will get tracking made available as soon as possible. If I could also take your number young man so that we can alert you all of any updates." All attention is now turned to Lonny, it would make sense for Lonny to be in charge of updates, he's been the most sensible and head strong so far. "That concludes the interview, the last thing I will require is a recent photo of Miss Vincent so we can identify her."

-----------------------

Waking up Delia was met with foggy vision and a slight headache. She didn't even drink that much last night. Looking around the room she was then confused to find she was not in her hotel room, where was she? What happened? Then it hit her, the tall blonde guy she walked into, what was his name again? Sam maybe? he insisted on a hug then covered her face with a cloth. Did he drug her?

Sitting up made her head spin slightly, but she was determined to figure out where she was. standing up to look out the window she realises she recognises nothing, was she even still in Seattle? Delia then walks over to the door of the room and tries to open it only to realise it was locked. Shit, she was trapped. It was locked from the outside with no way of unlocking it from the inside. Sitting back down on the bed, she then goes to grab her phone from her pocket only to realise that it was missing; it's at that moment the same blonde man from the bar walks into the room.

"Ah, good, you're awake. I hope the room is to your liking." He smiles, his smile was creepy, she couldn't put her finger on why but she felt extremely uncomfortable in his presence.

"Why am I here? Where is this place?" Delia spits slightly trying to hide the fear she felt.

"Never you mind dear, you'll grow to like it here one day." Sam strokes Delia cheek slightly which makes Delia flinch and send him a death glare. "Such hostility, I saw the argument you had with that guy. He wasn't right for you. I saved you, you should be thanking me." Sam smiles again, that same smile that sent a shiver down Delia's spine and not in a good way. 

"You know nothing!" Delia could feel herself getting defensive, she was entering fight or flight mode from the fear she was feeling and right now the fight was winning.

"Was it Andy you got into a fight with? If so he seems to have left a fair few voicemails to you. Ah, this one is my favourite though." Sam grins wickedly now pulling out Delia's phone before playing the voicemail left from Andy.

"Delia, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I know I've been a dick and I know I hurt you but please let me try to make this right, please just give me one last chance. If that really isn't what you want to do then I understand. Please just call one of us and let us know that you're safe, we're all worried about you. All I ever wanted to do was keep you safe, now I see I have failed at even doing that." Andy was broken. Delia could clearly hear the hurt in his voice, could tell he was crying. Suddenly all that fight or flight she had in her melted. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be in Andy's arms to bring him some form of comfort, to reassure him that she was okay. She knew that he was blaming himself for this, she didn't want that to happen. This was all her fault. She knew what was going on in Seattle and she stupidly thought she could make it to the hotel alone. Why did she have to be such an idiot?

"Please just let me go." Delia begs feeling a tear fall down her face "I won't tell anyone of any of this, please just let me go."

"Now why would I do that? I can take better care of you than what Andy could, I could make you happy." Sam again strokes Delia's face and this time she doesn't flinch. She just sits there frozen as she feels another tear fall down her face.

"Take care of me? you killed those other women!" She chokes, she was desperate to stop herself from crying, she did not want this monster to see her weak.

"What you need to understand pretty girl, I want someone to share my life with. They were not worthy so I had to... dispose of them so to speak. I need perfection, you've got the looks but I need you to worship me. But let's not move on too soon." Sam smiles sitting next to Delia on the bed.

"You're sick!" Delia spits feeling uncomfortable by the sudden invasion of her space.

"Now, now, let's not be unreasonable." Sam shakes his head slightly before going to place a hungry kiss on Delia's lips. This instantly makes Delia push him off  her which results in a sudden stinging sensation to her cheek. 

He had slapped her. 

"The choice is yours my dear. You either worship me like a good little bitch or you find yourself floating in the Seattle Ferry landing pier." Sam spits as he stands up to exit the room. As soon as he walks out Delia hears the locking of the door. That's when she realises how fucked she is. she has to try and escape this place somehow, but how will she? Could she?

"Andy, please find me. I need you." Delia sobs into the pillow after having thrown herself to lay on the bed.

Hope is the only thing stronger than fear. Delia was hoping, was praying that she could escape this. She wanted to be able to spend Christmas with her family, she wanted to see her new found friends again, but most of all... She wanted Andy to tell her that everything would be okay.

[h-c-u]

Ways he shows you love

Summary: Maverick's love languages and some of the things he would do for you.

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader [I actually managed to keep the reader gn :) ]

W/C: 2.6k

Rating: PG

TWs: none

A/N: There is no specific story, just a bunch of soft headcanons stuck together with a washi tape, but they were bubbling in my head and I had to get them out in one place.

Masterlist | List of tags

After the initial - I don't deserve you, I'm too old for you, I'm always away, etc phase - he would finally relent and properly asked you to be his... girlfriend.

Since it was his first serious relationship, he wasn't exactly sure what it entailed. Of course, he knew the "proper relationship" tropes from movies, books, and Goose and Carol, but you didn't exactly fit into any of those categories, and he wanted to bring heaven to you, he just didn't know how. Yet. What he did know how to do, was how to fix things, so he started there. 

He took care of your leaky faucet in the kitchen first. Next, he replaced that one glass panel in your bedroom window, that started to crack. Later he connected the water pump in the garden to the main line, so you wouldn't have to drag heavy watering cans from the inside of the house anymore. 

When you mentioned that you wanted to paint one of the walls in your living room gold, he went to the ends of the Earth to find four different shades of metallic paint you might like and prepared everything, and that included taping the corners of the other walls and ceiling, putting protective foil on the floor and getting you all the rollers and paintbrushes you could possibly need. And when you were finished and decided that you wanted to paint realistic clouds on the ceiling, he was right there with you, researching the best techniques and renting a proper scaffolding for you, so you wouldn't have to balance on a ladder for three days straight; he wanted to do so many things for you, but respected that you also wanted to do them on your own, so he was just happy to... well... make you happy. 

When you couldn't find a specific coffee table you wanted, he spent hours upon hours asking you questions about it. What wood would be the best, did you want it stained? How about edges, rounded or squared? The exact dimensions...? To which height you wanted the countertop to raise, so you could still work and eat on it? How many compartments on the inside? Did you want any drawers...? How tall the legs should be...? And after about two weeks of those relentless questions, you came back home to the exact table you wanted, because he built one for you, with a small help from his friends. 

He very quickly noticed that you didn't drink coffee, observed which teas you'd prefer during the day, and was ready with one as soon as you realized you wanted it. 

When he was in the country, he was the one doing the majority of day-to-day cooking, while you were the one who took care of preserving fruits and veggies from your garden for longer terms. 

Since you had an inquisitive mind and loved understanding exactly how things worked, he answered every question you had in extreme detail. It didn't matter if it was about that fixed leaky faucet or the engine of his plane and why it needed that exact maintenance. 

He was always happy to teach you new things, and learn new things from you. 

Since you quickly became a top specialist in your field, you didn't have to work as much, because you were usually called only as a last resort or to teach courses, leaving you tons of time to work on your home and to spend time with Maverick; and you both used it to the fullest. He was genuinely interested in your work, even if he didn't always understand everything, and that sometimes made him wonder if the interest was actually there, or did he enjoy seeing you talk about something you were so passionate about, that he would do anything to maintain that level of energy in you. Either way, he ended up with a much higher level of knowledge about cloud engineering than some of your colleagues.

When you expressed interest in the local huntsman community, he was right there with you, learning and acing all the tests about maintaining a proper balance in nature, how to create spaces for endangered species, and sometimes - how to help control a population. He was there when you killed your first deer, and held you close when you cried. You knew it had to be done because he was attacking and killing the younger bucks in the area, yet still - it affected you. And he guided you through those complicated emotions. After the meat was tested, he was the one to properly process and preserve every possible part, and that helped you feel less guilty, because every part of that majestic animal was properly utilized, and it fed both of you for over half of winter.

Even as a kid you wanted to do as many things as you could from scratch, that's why you ended up in a small house next to the forest, with a giant garden, that already had a proper orchard, and he never batted an eye when you wanted to plant new veggies, try freeze drying or dehydrating them, and when the pantry next to your small kitchen filled up, he was the one that came with the idea of building a root cellar, and you took a course on building one together.

And next year, when you wanted to get chickens, he was the one who researched what would be needed in the coop and built one from the recycled haul of the plane, which made you laugh so hard because you just loved it. And after that, when you wanted to start a small colony of bees, he was right there with you, preparing proper frames and contacting local beekeepers in search of a hive. 

He helped you maintain everything in tip-top condition, even though you were the one who usually got up first to do some light weeding, feeding the chickens, and gathering eggs. He was up just as you were finishing up, and was ready for you with tea and breakfast. 

It was only natural that he was the one to move in because he knew that you would suffocate living in assigned housing on base, so far from nature. He loved that duality in you... You were working in a very technical and futuristic field, and yet, here you were... Gathering honey from your bees. 

You knew he was doing a lot for you, but it first hit you how much, when he was deployed for the first time since he moved in. All the teas, the cooking, making sure that you'll actually eat during work... Of course, there were other, more technical things around the house, but you were more aware of those since you knew the building in and out, and you knew you'd had to take care of them when he was out. But there were so many small things that you didn't even notice during the regular day, which made you feel guilty because you weren't doing as much for him... An empty house was something that you could stomach, an empty bed...? Let's just say it was harder. That's when you noticed that he left three of his favorite t-shirts and his leather jacket, and you took full advantage of wearing them almost every day. The shirts quickly stopped smelling like him, but the jacket... it was what helped you the most since the calls were so few and far between. He couldn't even tell you where he was, so you weren't even able to check the news from that area.

When he proposed, he didn't do it in some grand way, because he knew you would hate it... He actually planned a beautiful two-day hike to the top of a mountain, just the two of you, where he planned to propose, but a huge storm caught you, and you had to pitch a tent in a rush because coming down was more dangerous than staying where you were. And the storm just went on and on... So you've spent the whole night just... talking, nothing else. Whispering soft stories about your time together, possible plans for the future, and the silly little project you wanted to do around the house... All the words were barely written into existence before being drowned by the sounds of rain viciously attacking your tent. And when in the morning the storm was still raging, he realized that you're not gonna move anytime soon, and he just couldn't wait any longer, so he pulled out a small box with a simple, handmade ring with a green stone embedded in such a way, that it wouldn't snatch on anything. You of course said yes because for you - it was perfect and unusual, and you loved to tell that story, even if most of your friends couldn't quite understand why.

He insisted on having a prenup, since you were the one who was earning more in your relationship, but to be honest, both of your pensions were mostly piling up in your accounts since you were mostly living from your land, which somehow wasn't the plan when you first bought the house. Sure, you wanted to have some fruits and veggies during the summer, but it somehow evolved into this beast that you loved more than anything, because your land basically became a living thing that required love and attention, but was giving so much in return. You eventually decided to get solar panels and dig a well, after one particularly long break in receiving water and electricity after the hurricane. You weren't one of those people that were getting ready for the apocalypse, and you definitely wouldn't try to force a similar lifestyle on anyone. And of course, you didn't judge anyone for living differently. You just found it funny that you've found yourself in this position, but you loved every moment.

When it came to gifts for special occasions, he never gave you something that you could just buy yourself. It was either something you wanted, but couldn't find anywhere, or an experience. Because of that, he took you to pottery classes, found a bookbinder who spend a weekend with you, teaching you the basics of making and conserving paper, and later - how to properly bind it. He also took you to a jewelry workshop, where you learned different methods of casting metal, and after that, he found a geologist who took both of you for a day-long adventure all about finding raw crystals and how to recognize fossils hidden in simple stones; you still had few of those on your fireplace. 

He was never the biggest fan of public displays of affection, but neither were you and yet when you on occasion grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers, he never let them go.

He learned everything there was about you... Not only what was visible on the surface, but because he spent so much time looking at you, he knew things even you didn't know were there. He noticed that when you were working, you preferred to use one specific type of perfume, and you were using them unconsciously when you needed to focus on work. So when he noticed you were having trouble focusing on the task you just had to do, he smeared a bit of them behind your ears, kissed the top of your head, and in only a few minutes you were back to clicking on your keyboard at the speed of light. He noticed that you gravitated to one specific brand of pens when you were documenting what you did in the garden and when you were tracking the crops, so he made sure that they were always laying around the house in visible places, and it wasn't even your favorite brand, you just liked them for this specific activity. 

When you were leaving for a week with your friends, he not only drove to the meeting point but prepared snacks for the road for everyone, and even made a thermos full of mulled wine, and you knew that you were leaving your home in very capable and loving hands, so there was not even a second when you were worried when some of your friends did... About their husbands, about their kids... And you...? After all those years you two became an extension of each other and there was nothing but trust between you two. And when you came back after a whole week of backpacking, there was a white gazebo with a blue roof, and a swing mounted to the ceiling in the corner of your garden, a mirror image of what you had in your head. He even planted the vines on the sides, but it would be a while until they'd covered the intricate white paneling. 

At first, it was hard for you to pinpoint a way he'd preferred to receive your love and attention. He wasn't the biggest fan of gifts per se... He of course cherished everything you were giving him, like that stupid pendant you cast in your metallurgy course, that somehow managed to look a little bit like a plane. And the mugs you made together during the pottery course... But something like an expensive watch or a new bike was definitely out of the question. When it came to words of affirmation... He had an extremely complicated relationship with compliments, even if they were genuine, but he loved hearing you say that you love him, so you would try to pepper that in during the day. Neither of you liked touching that much. Of course, there was occasional cuddling, but it wasn't something either of you craved; it was more of a comfort thing after a long day. There was one exception though... He simply melted when you were playing with his hair, didn't matter when or where, it was like his reset button. And even though he showed love by doing things for you, when it came to receiving love the same way, he was more than uncomfortable, so you also had to wiggle around that. And then there was just... time spent together. Didn't matter if you were actually doing something together-together, or you were just simply there, reading a book when he was fixing up the plane. Or if he was going over paperwork on the terrace while you were doing something in the garden. 

Simply spending time with you was recharging his batteries, and your single smile was able to make all the worries go away in a blink of an eye; he just couldn't stay frustrated or angry in your proximity, which was fun to see when you were spending time together with his friends from the navy, because they rarely got to see him as you saw him every day. He was much calmer, less anxious, and somehow... more confident...? Of course as a pilot and a captain, he had to be confident in his decisions, but with you near... It was just another type of confidence, at least that's what Ice said. He couldn't explain it in more detail though. 

You two worked well together and somehow managed to avoid serious fights over the course of your 14 years of marriage. Sure, there were disagreements, but neither of you was above admitting when you were wrong, so you never got properly angry, having too much respect and love for each other to assume less than the best about the other person. 

You were the couple that your friends looked up to and were a tiny bit jealous of... You were the couple that randomly started dancing in the kitchen when "Snowman" by Sia came on the radio. You were the couple that after all those years looked at each other as if you saw each other for the first time ever. You were the couple who read books to each other out loud. You were simply a couple that loved each other. 

[airokunomega]

Hey guys, I need help.

17M, lifelong depression, bi. I have tried every medication under the sun. None of them have even begun to help. I swear to god, they are sugar pills. I tried to get therapy, but every therapist and psychiatrist I try ditches me after the second or third appointment, straight up doesn't show up, and leaves me waiting with no explanation, nor any messages left to apologise. I've run out of therapists licensed to help in my state. I have diagnosed depression, and almost positively autism and ADHD, however I'll probably never know because every therapist doesn't stay long enough to diagnose me. I mostly play video games, but no matter how much I try I can't enjoy myself, so I tried to become competitive. I mostly play beat saber, and I have for 800 plus hours and 2 years. I'm number 2000 in the world, and have stagnated there for a few months now. Here we are, putting all this work in for something I don't enjoy, and then shmucks who started last month are hitting top 300 like it's fucking nothing. I can't even hit a 500pp play, no matter how much I practice and work. I also work out, 4 times a week, and none of my weights have increased a single pound since I started 4 years ago. I'm still the same 120 pounds I was when I started. I've seen nutritionists, sports specialists and whatnot and none saw any problems. I play aimlabs and Fortnite every day, and I'm still awful at aiming and basically everything else even though I know what I'm supposed to do. I have 6 thousand hours in Minecraft since 2013 and I'm still no good at anything in the game. It's almost like my body doesn't listen to my brain. Caffeine helps a bit, but not as much as I wish it did. I've tried so many different hobbies and given up after months of trying because they didn't make me happy. I stuck with gaming because I hope that the next level, the next rank, the next whatever gives me some kind of satisfaction. I was also kicked out of 3 discord servers that are now big that I helped build from the ground up, most notably being furry legion. I didn't do anything, they were all separate unrelated incidents, and completely took me by surprise. I know this post was kinda all over the place, but I'm just looking for advice. I know how depressed people have reduced neuroplasticity, but this is ridiculous. I'm just hoping to get some "I can relate"s or some advice about what I can do to get some help. I am really struggling to find a reason to keep living.

I appreciate your time, sorry to bother you.

Note: Not proofread, also bad English sorry

[mental-illness-bingo]

It's always "people with ASPD don't seek out or stick with treatment" and not "we make it ridiculously difficult for a patient to find ANY therapist at all, let alone one who isn't ableist or knows how to work with personality disorders" even though only the second one is true.

Why haven't I had a therapist in over 6 months? Because I have to sort through this massive list of providers my medicare provides since I'm disabled, google every single one to find their specialities (if they have any listed), and realize none specialize in anything but depression, anxiety, addiction, and ADHD.

I'm not saying people with just those things don't need help! What I AM saying is that if a health insurance plan for disability is going to have limited "in-network" providers, then they should do at least SOME basic research to make sure that list is inclusive for a wide range of mental health needs. You wouldn't have a list of specialists but leave off cardiology, so why would you have a list of mental health specialists and leave off personality disorders, dissociation, and oh yeah - PTSD. Seriously, I found one trauma specialist in this massive list and they are a child specialist who shows up for adults because they help parents.

And again, that's great/gen but also adults have PTSD wtf it's one of the major reasons physically abled people need disability.

[fanartandfanfiction]

I think my hearing went pretty well. Right up until I started sobbing in the middle of my testimony, then they questioned my mental health.

I won’t know for months if I get approved, which is stupid, but it’s because I’m one of the front runners fighting for long Covid disability. There’s so much they don’t know and don’t understand, so it won’t be a quick case. I’ve included my speech to give you a little insight as to what long Covid looks like for me.

—————————————

Your honor, thank you for allowing me the chance to speak today. I know that I don’t LOOK like a disabled person. I don’t have a wheelchair or a seeing eye dog. I’m not the person you picture when you think of disabilities, but that doesn’t mean I’m not disabled.

No one knew what to expect from the pandemic. No one expected Covid to produce long term effects. Every day scientists are learning more and more about the effects of long Covid. I’ve been unfortunate enough to be in the front of the line in that respect. The doctors don’t know why I sometimes lose the feeling in my legs. They don’t know why my memory has become so poor. They don’t know if I’ll ever be back to the person I was before this disease. I was so sick last year that my windpipe collapsed. There are days I have to walk with a cane, and some days where my body hurts so much that I just want to cry. I’m 27 years old and I still live at home with my parents because I need their help. If I catch a cold, I’m sick for weeks because my body just can’t handle it. Some days a shower makes me throw up from overexertion. I’ve seen countless specialists and made more trips to Vanderbilt than I can count searching for answers and finding none.

I am disabled from long covid. I hope to one day not be, and I absolutely hated to admit it, but it has disabled me and I’ve accepted that. I recently turned twenty seven and I’m supposed to be in the prime of my life. Instead I spend my days constantly exhausted from the battle my body is fighting. I’ve missed weddings, birthdays, the birth of my best friend’s baby, and so much more because of this illness. I haven’t been present and I hate that more than anything.

No child says “when I grow up, I want to be disabled.” This is not my end goal. I’d love to not be standing here pleading my case today. But long Covid is uncharted territory. I don’t know what my future holds, but I hope this is a temporary thing. So I’m asking you today, your honor, to consider my case. I’ve spent so much time and money in an attempt to find a cure for this potentially incurable illness. All I’m asking is for you to recognize my fight. Thank you.

[jessvivwinter]

!!OBX3 SPOILERS!!

i have quite a few things to say, so hold on tight.

1. i’m really happy about jiara but now that’s it’s ACTUALLY happened idk how to feel and suddenly it does now feel a little forced, i feel as though jonas pate saw how much everyone loved the ship and shoved the characters together too quickly, like literally within the first 2 episodes we had JJ go absolutely feral over getting kiara back and then by ep 3 they had nearly kissed, i mean we all know that JJ is impulse and erratic at times but COME ON, yes we did get jiara scenes last season but it literally felt like it went from 0 to 100 real quick. on top of that it also felt like the only thing JJ was focused on this season was kie which irritated me because JJ is such a complex character and jonas pate spent the last two seasons building the complexity of it only for him to basically completely throw it away and basically have JJ only focus on kiara the whole time, i also thought it was incredibly unrealistic for practically no one else to be bothered by kiara getting abducted TWICE. both times it literally felt like only JJ cared about getting her back, not to mention when she got taken to the wilderness camp NO ONE ELSE WENT WITH HIM TO FIND HER?! there’s just no way that’s realistic in my mind, literally all of them love kiara like a sister and no one went to help him get her?!

2. i’m not a fan of jjpope, they literally have no romantic chemistry, do i think they would die for each other, 100%, they are like brothers and they would do anything for each other but they have zero chemistry. HOWEVER, in my mind JJ and Pope are definitely bisexual and it would not surprise if they had confided in each other about it, hence why they are SO close.

3. why is not one of the characters single, like im sorry, i do really like the ships, but it’s so predictable and overdone to have 3 guys and 3 girls and to just match them up, that’s basically it but i feel like it’s very irritating ALSO WHY DID JONAS WRITE THAT SARAH CHEATS, ABSOLUTELY NOT, NOT HAVING IT, IM IGNORING IT EVEN HAPPENED

4. lastly WTF WAS THE ENDING. that’s one of the main things bothering me atm besides the way jiara has panned out. what was the need for the 18 MONTH TIME SKIP?! suddenly we have a year and a half missing from the story and it seems everyone’s got their life together? which btw doesn’t make any sense considering john b and JJ are both without parents and DCS would be on their asses like hot potatoes. also the random guy at the end? why did they make it seem like suddenly 6 teenagers are now antique specialists and know everything there is to know.

overall, i am quite frankly confused and incredibly conflicted. on one hand i absolutely adore this show and don’t want to critique it like i have but on the other hand there are so many things bothering me and it’s beginning to worry me that obx is just going to turn into the next riverdale which btw i will not stand for cause that show is a shit show, BUT i must say JJs comedy this season was gold and im glad we got more of it this season. please tell what if anyone else agrees with me cause NONE OF MY FRIENDS HAVE EVEN STARTED WATCHING IT AND IM GOING TO GO FERAL.

[wellpresseddaisy]

There's a Silver Lining, Through the Dark Clouds Shining pt 3

With many thanks to @sneverussape who asked what would happen if a squib inherited a magical family Headship and control of the family magics and I suddenly knew where to go with this. :)

“Well, Mr. Snape, I can’t find anything physically wrong with you. According to all the diagnostics I have at my disposal, you are a healthy twelve-year-old boy. There isn’t anything to indicate the sudden change in your age. I’m going to have to call in a specialist, I think.” Madame Pomfrey stopped waving her wand around him in increasingly intricate patterns and stepped back. “How is your head?”

He blinked. How had she known his head hurt?

“A bit of headache.” He admitted. “I think I’m remembering some things. I...it’s very strange.” Because they weren’t proper memories of being an adult. He just…knew things now. Like he got the information but the actual memory stayed locked away. His memories of being twelve behaved similarly, like they couldn’t quite make it through either.

“Here you are then, a bit of headache reliever should to the trick.” She handed over a dark vial. “I think we’re going to have to find someone to take care of you, if St. Mungo’s doesn’t turn up an answer.”

Severus drank quickly, avoiding the taste as much as he could. He thought they should call his family immediately, but it seemed Hogwarts ran the same way for students and…professors? How strange to think of himself as a professor. He never wanted to teach. He also didn’t want to be poked and prodded only to be told there wasn’t anything they could do. He sort of had the feeling something larger was at play, something none of them would understand, most likely.

He had the strangest feeling this whole mess was somehow meant to happen. That this change saved him from some hideous fate. He didn’t think St. Mungo’s could do anything, not really. Or at least not anything meaningful. He remembered sending Longbottom’s potion samples to the Unspeakables and getting a letter back asking him to stop, please, they had no idea what the boy did and now they had a feral sample chasing people through the laboratories…and sudsing at inopportune moments.

Why did these things always happen to him? He knew loads of other potions masters who taught and none of them had to deal with a Longbottom. They also didn’t have trolls in the castle or evil dark lords possessing professors. It simply wasn’t fair.

He looked up sharply when the doors opened, but it was only the Potter boy, cradling his right hand in his left.

“Mr. Potter, you were told—” Madame Pomfrey started. “Merciful…what happened to your hand?”

“Caught it in a door.” Potter answered quietly, looking at the floor. “I wasn’t watching as carefully as I could have.”

Severus immediately suspected Malfoy. It was a Malfoy sort of thing to do, slamming someone’s hand in the door because they told you to stuff it. Petulant and spoiled.

He couldn’t remember Lucius doing anything like that, though. He’d call it plebian. Perhaps petulance was a feature of the younger Malfoy.

“Hmm. Helped along, I’m sure, not that you ever give me a name. How history repeats.” Madame Pomfrey sniffed. “Sit down, please.”

Severus watched from the next bed, suspicious. He remembered being…honestly a towering bastard to the other boy. Strange that all those complicated feelings seemed to dull now. He looked so much like Lily, under the truly tragic hair and even worse glasses. And his clothes when Madame Pomfrey made him take off his robe so it stopped sliding over his hand! Severus knew what poverty looked like—he’d seen it, well-mended and faded in the mirror often enough—this was flat neglect. Even if…even if Lily wasn’t here and Potter senior had gone on to whatever he deserved by way of an afterlife, there were others to care for the boy. Black…there was something he couldn’t quite grasp in his memory. Some reason Black wasn’t the doting godfather (because as much as Severus loathed Black, he could admit that the man would likely rather die than see harm come to James Potter’s son).

But there should have been family. Someone to make sure he didn’t go about looking…Mam always said ‘like there’s nobody at home who loves you’. Even he hadn’t looked like that…at least not frequently. Sometimes Mam had bad days.

Madame Pomfrey fussed about Potter, gathering salves and casting diagnostics, frowning at each one.

“Have you been drinking milk as I directed, Mr. Potter? At each meal?” she asked after an uncomfortable silence. “I’d rather not prescribe nutrient potions if we can fix this with your diet.”

“Er, it isn’t on the table?” Potter offered lamely. “There’s only ever pumpkin juice and water.”

Gryffindors, honestly, they’d rather martyr themselves than make a simple request. Madame Pomfrey seemed to agree with him and sighed deeply.

“It is vital that you eat the proper amount of a properly balanced diet, Mr. Potter. Every diagnostic I just ran returned worse results than last year at this same time. You now have a broken hand, which can be fixed fairly quickly, but we really ought to vanish and...”

“Please don’t, Madame Pomfrey.” Potter hunched in on himself, miserable and slowly going scarlet. “I…it won’t help. Not if I have to go…”

Whatever else he was going to say vanished as the door opened again. The headmaster strode in, clearly annoyed by something, followed by…

“Dad?” Severus blurted out.

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Split Image (Kotcheff, 1982)

The first half or so of this movie is about the protagonist getting brainwashed by a cult. Being set in the early '80s, this is likely inspired by Jonestown and the like, so the cult here is, on the surface, one of those hippie, drippy peace, love and good vibes cults, as opposed to one of those cults where they do weird sex stuff. These guys are jerking each other off figuratively, with praise and what have you, as opposed to literally. If anything, they have a strong anti-jerking-off stance, as the protagonist learns one fateful night ("You'll make a prostitute of yourself").

To be honest, maybe it's because I find hippie types kind of insufferable and maybe because Michael O'Keefe, who plays the protagonist, isn't the greatest actor, but I did not find this fully conveyed how one could be seduced into a cult. I will say that Peter Fonda, despite being my least favourite Fonda, is well cast as the cult leader, and despite the TV movie vibe that others have fairly cited, Ted Kotcheff's decision to shoot this in 'Scope makes the commune look appropriately idyllic. It also helps that O'Keefe is recruited into the cult by none other than Karen Allen, whose freckled face and wide blue eyes positively glow in closeup, so maybe I do get why he joined the cult.

Karen Allen thirst aside, this really picks up in the second half when O'Keefe gets kidnapped and subjected to a deprogramming regime by a specialist hired by his family. Kotcheff piles on the audiovisual trickery: layered audio to suggest his brainwashing battling with his immediate reality, and distorted wide angle Cult-o-vision to show how warped his mind has become. The latter means that this is one movie you can get your relatives who haven't fixed their TV settings and watch Academy ratio stuff stretched out.

But really this works because the deprogrammer is played by none other than James Woods, bringing the full weight of his scumbag swagger to the role, announcing within moments of meeting the family that he lives "in a pisshole", calling the hero's college "one big fuck farm" and saying a whole bunch of other stuff unfit for polite conversation. His sleazy little mustache is just the cherry on top of the scumbag sundae. Nietszche said something about becoming the monster you're fighting, and Woods employs tactics arguably as abusive as the cult as he spits, shouts, slaps, loogies on and sets fire to a picture of Peter Fonda, and repeatedly slaps the father played by Brian Dennehy until O'Keefe is free of their shackles. I don't know if this is "good" drama or even effective deprogramming, but it's tremendously entertaining, and that's what counts.

To be perfectly honest, Woods' character seems more like the modern version of a cult member or leader than Fonda's, but I cannot hold our present realities against a forty-plus year old movie. I'm mostly just disappointed that we didn't get more movies with this character, maybe a sequel where he has to deprogram his character from The Boost from the cult of cocaine, shot in a locked room with crazy splitscreen effects. Split Image II: White Lines, coming to a theatre near you. Or maybe one where he deprograms the ultimate cult member: real life present day James Woods. Hey-o, there's a topical joke for you.

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.16

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: None

A warm summer breeze blew over me and tickled my skin. As soon as I entered the old training field, once used for both mages and specialists, I could see that everything was in such a dilapidated state that attempting to clean anything was a task no one could accomplish alone.

The sword-fighting area was completely overgrown. Some flowers have even dug through the hard soil and bloomed on the ground, which has seen more blood than most battlefields.

Saddest of all is the location for target training, where easy-to-build golems once simulated combat. The place is completely covered, but the roof had long since collapsed, so the weather had made things difficult for the poor golems. They look in bad shape, and their power cores seem empty for a long time. This is truly unfortunate, as these golems were built to grow with each fighter who uses them for training, helping them improve their skills.

My heart aches as I see all this, for this was once one of the few prides my family still has outside of our planet and empire, which is why it hurts me so much to see it in such chaos. With turbulent feelings, I just let myself fall to the ground into the soft, warm grass. As I lie there, I play with the grass and even pick a few of the colorful flowers.

After waiting a few minutes, I start making some flower crowns to pass the time. I even ignore the first steps that get closer and closer to where I lie peacefully in the grass.

I know those arrogant snobs will whine when they see the dilapidated state of the place, with broken pillars, massive stones lying all over the ground, and the literally impossible to fight upon uneven ground.

And as if I was waiting for the cue, not too far away, I could hear the first few people complaining about not being dressed for a trip into the supposed "wilderness."

Their ignorance annoys me to no end. Why were they so problematic about things like this? For my own good, I ignore them and continue to relax on the green floor. A few flower crowns sit on my chest.

I can once again feel disapproving looks on me. For some reason, they start to get to me in ways they've never done before, perhaps because it feels more disrespectful since they're doing it on grounds built by my ancestors. An area that only listens to me.

Out of nowhere, a hand suddenly appears in my field of vision. The skin structure is flawless except for a scar that is almost invisible at this point. But my anger, simmering deep within me, wouldn't let me take his hand. So I jumped back to my feet without help, the flower crowns hanging on my left hand.

I didn't even look back to see how Cory reacted to my simple but effective refusal to take his hand. As in ancient traditions, if a King or his Heir does not accept the helping hand of one of his knights, he is in disgrace or on the way there.

I leisurely walk to the stands, carefully setting down the freshly made flower wreaths before I finally turn around and face the few hundred people intently staring at me.

The few teachers who came with the classes look down on me as much as the students. What in the name of the red darkness is wrong with these people?

I had to close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing to calm myself down because their vile behavior is starting to get on my nerves. I wonder how far their faces will fall when they find out I never did anything wrong. Just the idea puts another smile on my face. It quickly turns into a sinister grin that seems to unnerve the others.

“Then can we get started?”

The teachers look at each other. Except that Saladin steps forward as the others seem unwilling to test me. With a crack of his staff on the ground, which he magically hardened, he says, "We chose Artheon to-"

“No,” I say without hesitation. "I want to fight the three idiots who 'captured' me. We'll see how far they get when I have a weapon, too." My sinister smile only grew, bringing chills to most that I could see their face sweating profusely.

Even Saladin seems unsettled by my authoritative manner of speaking. I don't even know where it came from. Maybe because I don't feel like I belong to any of their factions and therefore view the older teachers as mere human beings and not as authority figures? Or maybe even their complete disregard for my person? Who knows?

Anyway, I turn away from them and stare in the direction of the three idiots.

“You first!” I point directly at the purple-haired guy.

He steps forward, teeth clenched, a fierce anger in his eyes so blazing it makes me want to fight him even more. As he approached, the others backed away, led by their teachers. The girls were taken to the dilapidated stands. Most of them look disgusted at the dirty or broken stones, which makes my anger flare up again.

“Look here!” The bold guy suddenly called out to me. Two green daggers in his hands.

“That’s a joke, right?” I ask quietly, looking him up and down. My eagerness to fight him died when I saw his weapons. His footing is good, but I could already see that the uneven ground would be problematic for him. “Do you need more stable ground?” I ask him directly, my left eyebrow raised questioningly.

He scoffs and is ready to say something, but then he loses his balance as he tries to change his position just a little.

I roll my eyes. The only thing I want is to watch him eat dirt, but I also want no one to be able to say it was unfair when I wipe the floor with his stupid face. So, instead of reaching for the weapon Cory brought, which he is holding out to me, I close my eyes. The people actively watching start chatting quickly, talking about me again, and nothing flattering.

But everyone's eyes immediately widened when I opened mine again. Pure magic flows through my veins and shows itself in the intense brown glow of my eyes. I could feel the entire training ground buried under soil and plants. As I feel everything up and down to ensure I have everything under my control, the whole place suddenly shook under the power of my magic. Fear coursed through everyone who saw the extent of my abilities.

“Stay still!” I shout to my first opponent. He's shaking more than the others, obviously scared out of his mind.

As I expected, he didn't stop but tries to escape the violent quake. I didn't let him out of my sight. Even when he finally freezes, as it becomes clear to him that I'm peeling away the dirt from the cut stone underneath and don't want to attack him.

His eyes widen in shock. Suddenly, tons of dirt literally pour into the air. Magic and dirt swirl around us. Soon, a massive shadow hangs over our heads as the small arena beneath us is clean again. A rectangular flat surface appears: the stones are pure white marble, from my home world, as this stone is almost indestructible.

Usually, this stone is a single slab forming a ground. But here, they have been cut into large individual bricks. There is a staircase with three steps around the edges. It makes it appear like a small fighting pit.

The only dirt left is under my opponent's feet and under my own. Since he's still frozen solid, I take the first step. As soon as I left the dirt, it swung up and crashed into the other flying dirt.

Even after this spectacle, the other didn't move, even though he had seen what he had to do. So that the last bit of dirt can finally leave this field that once produced some of the best fighters in the magic and specialist fields.

It got so annoying that I was almost ready to walk up to the guy and knock him off the little platform he is standing on, only for him to suddenly step off the platform himself as I only have taken one step toward him. As soon as he did that, the dirt makes its way up.

When all the dirt was finally together, I let the lump fly to the side, to a spot on the opposite side of the benches where I have already placed two pieces of columns that once stood proudly and held up the roof of an outbuilding. I use this to keep the dirt separate from the rest of the place, as I don't want any more work to be done in the future.

"He didn't even use a spell," one of the teachers muttered. One I hadn't seen before. A peculiar man with pointy ears and a terrible fashion sense. His eyes were curious, not a hint of contempt on his face.

And here I was, always thinking elves were the arrogant ones. How foolish of me.

His little comment even makes me blush. It was hard training that I had to go through to do that. My magic teacher, a two-star grandmaster in the field of earth magic, an eccentric, strict man, but he taught me well. After I did it, he confessed to being jealous because it had taken him almost a hundred years to learn it, while I did it within four years.

Back then, I still had to think about the magic, the effect, and the spell. These days, I only need to know what I want to do.

The only problem is that the magic used for this is not fairy magic but regular magic, in which I'm far more competent than I could ever dream to be at my inherited fairy magic.

However, the situation is different with fairy magic, as this form of magic is bound within one's self and cannot be strengthened by the surrounding magic. And even among fairies, there are differences. Ordinary fairies can only use their own magic, but guardian fairies can draw on their planet's magic.

While other fairies, such as protectors or healers, have powerful magic in their respective areas, guardian fairies are exceptionally powerful, so much so that they defy logic and push the boundaries of nature itself.

While a healer fairy can defeat disease, guardian fairies can stop global disasters.

“Thanks,” I murmur quietly, rather embarrassed by the compliment.

But the teacher stares absentmindedly into space, seemingly far away in his thoughts.

Taken aback by this, I turn my attention to the purple-haired guy, still shaking slightly.

“Do you need a moment, Purple?” I ask. “If so, Blondie can take your place in the first fight,” I continue to tease him.

The guy stares at me with his violet eyes, glowing at me in silent anger. His teeth gritted, strengthening the feeling of his rage. If he had been any other guy, I might have been softer. But I'm just worried about whether I can stop myself from killing him.

“I knew you are still afraid of me,” he says suddenly. His angrily clenched teeth have turned into a wide grin.

Suddenly, the guy takes out the two small pieces of metal. I didn't even notice that he put them away. Still, I feel the need to make fun of him. But when I open my mouth, out of those two pieces of metal come out the two green blades I saw before. My desire to make fun of him only increased. He has such a big mouth and yet such small weapons.

Suddenly, I could see a similar weapon. An older man, probably a teacher with a face of five hundred years of rain, extends his hand to me. For a second, I look over at Corey. Silently, I wonder if he gave the man the weapon, but he only stares at me blankly. The moment I take it from him, the man is already walking away. I look at it from all sides, but I couldn't figure out how to use it. So I tap on anything that seems strange, but nothing happens.

The teacher quickly returns, turns the metal over, and activates it. A yellow blade comes out that is the size of a long sword. It feels strange in my hand, too light.

“Ready!” the same man suddenly shouts, startling me.

His words take me out of my thoughts. I move the sword in front of me. Just from this small movement, I can tell that the sword is too light for me. But I still get into position. My eyes fixed on my opponent the whole time. Even from a distance, I could see that while his stance is pretty shaky, he still has significant potential to master his weapons. It's a shame he obviously never received any real training outside of the academy. Although, a year can only do so much.

“And go!“

[Masterlist]