#he has a lot of people to remember
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bardspeak Ā· 11 months ago
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My durge's sad lonely funeral for Alfira | ao3 link
Warnings for: Suicidal ideation, handling/preparation of the dead, gore/blood, and durge-typical description.
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Kaivir kneels at his bedroll for long enough that his thighs have been aching and trembling long before the sun begins to rise. Blood and viscera dries sticky and cloying on his hands up to his forearms, dipped through the leg of his pants as though he knelt just like this in the spray of her. It flakes off in little chunks though he tries not to move, head dipped low - wrists propped against his knees, palms turned up. Tendons and veins and arteries turned out toward whoever might bring teeth to tender flesh. Punishment or measure of justice. Snap of the whip or relief.
But when the dawn comes - sunlight breaking over the horizon and making their display bright, obvious, dusty, beautiful, and disgusting - and people begin rustling and milling about, when they notice , itā€™s obvious that of everyone here, only he would have the stomach.
Karlach shouts at him, but like an owner might at a bad dog. A beast who is expected, if discouraged, to disembowel defenseless people - to kill and keep going until claw scrapes raw against bone. A beast expected to kill a woman who wanted shelter for the night, to gain stories to tell and give hope. Expected to splay her out across the campsite. Thereā€™s a sigil of blood under her body that they ignore in favor of a convenient explanation.Ā 
Ignore the beast with obvious intention.Ā 
They all have something to say, a false laugh getting caught at the back of their teeth or an admonition that meets the bad dog where itā€™s at. And they all watch but donā€™t look as he gathers her body in his arms. They glare, Laeā€™zel reaches for her sword, but they donā€™t move to stop him. Was she this small before? Was she this small when she was working on her song, smiling up at him, asking him for a chance? Was she this small when he was killing her? Was she so small and feeling it, or was she small and dead before it could hurt?
Her shoulders are still smooth and unmarred, skin soft and ice cold against his as he hefts her up, thighs continuing to burn and shake as he brings her to Withers - the gazes of his companions at his back.Ā 
His voice croaks as though with disuse, though it hasnā€™t been long since he last spoke. The back of his throat aches and burns. ā€œI didnā€™t mean to kill Alfira,ā€ he tells Withers - voice coming out weak, reedy and pathetic - laying her down delicately in front of the skeleton. Careful placement of her hands at her sides. It matters little to Withers, who stares down at him with the shadows of his face obscuring eyes. ā€œPlease bring her back,ā€ he adds, a raspy whisper, though he can already see the answer.
ā€œThe bardā€™s death is a weight for thine own conscience to bear,ā€ Withers says, finger outstretched as if in instruction. Bad dog. ā€œShe will be left to the peace of eternity, where the Urge shall seek her no more.ā€Ā 
And if Withers knows the Urge, Withers would have known if there was a way to stop it before he did this. And if Withers knows the Urge, Withers would know if Alfira being alive would mean she could never be free of him.Ā 
He ducks his head - swallows against the hot, red, bloody feeling in his throat - and gathers her in his arms again. He paces her back and forth like a caged beast until the wet drip of shame down his neck pushes him away from their eyes.Ā 
The river might wash away the blood enough that wildlife wouldnā€™t come for her body. The river is symbolic, he thinks, of death somewhere - if not of hers. The river is further from camp. The river is pretty. So he brings her there, just to the bank, and washes the blood off of his hands so he can wash it off of hers. Thereā€™s nothing under her nails, the beast notes, like sheā€™d been unable or unwilling to put up a fight. Washing her only reveals more wounds, though her body is too cold to bleed anymore. Her purple-tinged hair tangles around his fingers.Ā Ā 
The lutes - both hers and that of her teachers - he puts further up so that they donā€™t get wet. It wouldnā€™t be good for them, he guesses distantly, not if she wanted to play them again. Bloodied musical notation goes with them. She doesnā€™t have much else.
He still doesnā€™t remember killing her, canā€™t fathom wanting to, but setting her things aside and cleaning the blood from inside her - the cavity out of which her slippery organs spill forth and do not go back in no matter how he tries - makes his hands shake. A phantom sensation or imagining of tearing them into her flesh. Of warm blood pooling between his fingers and twitching muscles resisting him to a point. Of tears rolling down his face, though now his eyes run insidiously dry.Ā 
It might not be real. He might not have cried.
Sheā€™s as clean as sheā€™ll get without undressing her, which he doesnā€™t want to do. It feels wrong to be her killer and be the one to do so, but the thought of asking another in camp makes his throat ache hot and wrong again. Wyll is watching without looking from his vantage point, tent looking flimsy in the light of day. Withers stands across the bank. Karlach only behind a few grasses and branches. They might not trust him to not attack them. They might not wish to help her killer with her lonely funeral. They condemn her death but looking at the both of them would be too much. Heā€™s washed the blood out of the fabric so that it stains but the smell isnā€™t so strong, and itā€™ll have to be enough. She can still wear it.Ā 
Her hair is still twisted wet around her neck, mussed and matted around the style sheā€™d put it in, so he starts combing it out as gently as he can with his hands. It tangles still, and terribly - the water and the blood flattening and sticking the strands to each other. A half hour, the sun standing taller, and itā€™s at least managed enough that it doesnā€™t cover her face or her neck. But the sun might give her a burn, so he blocks it with his hands for some time until he blinks hard, realizes itā€™s not going away, and shades her in the trees instead.Ā 
He doesnā€™t know what sort of funeral sheā€™d have wanted. He doesnā€™t know her at all, except for her teacher and her song. And it wasnā€™t finished, and he doesnā€™t remember it, so nobody could sing it. He wouldnā€™t have been able to play it, with or without her.Ā 
A shallow grave, some part of him decides while the rest has only been looking at her, right there in the reeds. Burials are practiced in most every culture, if not primarily in some. He has a shovel in his pack, somewhere, if they havenā€™t already taken his things. But even if they have, itā€™s only fair to dig it with his hands. He killed her with them after all.Ā 
More time passes while he shifts cold, wet dirt with his hands. Small stones get caught under his nails. The noises of camp fade behind the water, the dirt, and her silence - they might be watching him, or breaking bread, or already left them. They might not wait much longer than they already have, so he stops digging once his hands are aching down to the bone and the hole is deep enough to cover her by a few inches, at least. He leaves her by the bank, water drifting lazily at her feet and reeds shifting in the wind above her head, to go back up to camp.Ā 
They havenā€™t left, and they still arenā€™t looking. He grabs his bedroll and takes it back to her, tucking her into it as best he can - to hold her together, and because he found it soft. It almost looks like sheā€™s sleeping, nestled into furry warmth and hair wet and sort of combed. A child tucked into bed, except her blue cheeks arenā€™t flushed with sleep or fever, and he canā€™t recall ever seeing a sleeping child anyhow.Ā 
Itā€™s inappropriate, like it would have been to undress her, but he doesnā€™t seem to be able to help leaning down and pressing a trembling kiss to her brow. Like an impulse, or another thing piloting his body, or muscle without the memory.Ā 
Alfira, he remembers with intent as he tucks a small, escaped strand of her hair back into the bedroll. Apprentice to Lihala. The Weeping Dawn, the song, the eulogy to her master. He remembers parts. The bloodied papers remember others, legible between pools of red.Ā 
He lays her in the grave, then, and buries her. He tries to hum the parts he knows as he works, but his throat closes only a few stanzas in.Ā 
Itā€™s faster than digging, but still the sun is high in the sky when heā€™s done and has been burning the back of his neck. His whole body trembles with effort, with exhaustion - lack of sleep and water and food but mostly whatā€™s been done. Heā€™d never put shoes on, he blinks to realize, neither to kill her or bury her. Thereā€™s still blood soaked into his pants.Ā 
The reeds are disturbed and messy, but he hopes theyā€™ll grow back. At her head thereā€™s rocks and trees and no headstone he can conjure. He takes both of the lutes in one hand, necks crowded against each other and squeezing the bones of his fingers so he can hold her papers in the other hand. Walking back to camp, soaked in water and blood and mud and holding her things, he instinctively bares his teeth at anyone who might look at him.Ā 
But they avoid doing so now, while he lays them tenderly in his pack, which they also havenā€™t yet taken from him. Theyā€™re all standing with their bags packed beside them, so he dresses, pins himself back into his armor with sand in his hair and her blood invisible from him but for the stickiness left at his elbows, his neck under the armor. His hair is wet against his forehead when he looks up to the sky. They still seem to take their cues from him, even as they glare, turn their noses, or stink of fear. Theyā€™re ready to leave the camp, if ready is something he can be. He wishes any of them had learned the song, or had the stomach.
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cosmosnout Ā· 8 months ago
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The most doomed siblings ever
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kindnessoverperfection Ā· 1 year ago
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Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.
NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.
I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.
The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.
Because it's so hard to exist in this world.
My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:
Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)
Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.
Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.
Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.
Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.
Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s
I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.
So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".
Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)
Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.
If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.
NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD
Stigma in the DSM
Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)
"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."
(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)
#actuallynpd#signal boost#actuallyautistic#mental health awareness#narcissistic personality disorder#people also need to realize that mental health professionals aren't immune from bias#(it really shouldn't come as a shock that the mental health field has a longstanding pattern of misunderstanding and mistreating ppl who ar#mentally ill or otherwise ND)#the first therapist i brought up NPD to like. literally pulled out the DSM bc she could barely remember the criteria. then said that there'#no way I have it because I have low self-esteem lmaoooooo#anyway throwback to being at work and chatting with a co-worker. and the conversation turning to mental health. and him saying that#he tries to stay informed and be aware and supportive of mental health conditions & that he doesn't want to be ignorant or spread harmful#misinformation. and then i mentioned that i do a lot of research into mental health stuff and i listed a bunch of things. which included#several personality disorders. one of which was NPD.#and after listening to my whole ass list he zeroed in on the NPD and immediately started talking about how narcissists are abusive and#he knew someone who had NPD and how the person who had it had an addiction and died from the addiction in a horrible way and he#was glad he did#fun times#or when i decided to be vulnerable and talk abt my self-criticism/self-hatred bc i knew my friends also struggled w that and i wanted to#support them by sharing my own coping methods. and they both(separately!) started picking and prodding at my npd through the lens of stigma#bc i'd recently opened up to them abt having it. they recognized self-hatred as a symptom and still jumped on me for it. despite me#trying to share hurt vulnerable parts of myself to help them and connect with them.#again..... fun times
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Anyone else think a lot about how at the end of canon, Lan Wangji has had time to mature for 10+ years into a guy in his mid-30s, but Wei Wuxian still has the life experience and general maturity of a war-traumatized early 20-something?
Because like. Wei Wuxian died young and he died tragically, and everyone who was around him then that's still there after he's resurrected has gotten to live their lives. They got to mature. They've had 13/16 years to heal (or not heal -_-) and learn who they are. To become fully realized adults outside of the pressures of war. And Wei Wuxian hasn't had that. If you believe MXTX's interview that circulates on this site sometimes, he spent those 16 years in a suspended state of agony. And even if you don't believe that, he was still dead. Non-existant.
For Wei Wuxian, the war is fresh. The pain is fresh. He has no idea what's doing because he's barely an adult, if admittedly a highly skilled one for his age. The world has moved on around him and he has stayed in place. What does he do with that?
Wei Wuxian had no choice but to pretend that he's moved on, too, because that war that took so much from him was almost two decades ago, now. The Wen Remnants have been dead for over 10 years. What use is it to dig up old hurts? Except, those hurts are still hurting him.
When he died, Wei Wuxian was helping care for Lan Sizhui. Wen Yuan. When he died, Lan Wangji raised A-Yuan with the Lan. If Wei Wuxian was dead for 13/16 years and A-Yuan was 3/4 when he died, then Lan Sizhui is about his age, or very close to it.
This is the child he was raising. This child is now his peer.
Wei Wuxian has memories of war and tragedy, but no one to talk to. The juniors, who are closest to him in relative age, haven't known war, and everyone who has known it has moved on. He's trapped between generations, and that has to be so incredibly isolating.
Jiang Yanli, the Wen Remnants, Wen Qing of particular note, all of them died shortly before he did. Did he ever really get to grieve them? Will he be allowed to now? Especially with his reputation. Especially with the number of people who would really prefer him to simply leave the past in the past. Especially with all the people who think he is the cause of the deaths he wishes to grieve.
Will he be allowed to mourn, if the cultivation world thinks these deaths are his fault? Or that these people don't deserve to be grieved?
Wei Wuxian has the misfortune of being a man who is a decade out of time, and he will have to learn to cope with that, but how does he account for the missing years? When the pain is still fresh for him, how does he find a place in a society that has long since moved on?
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crashetc Ā· 3 months ago
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i bring you another figure drawing project because my classes are obliterating me but at least I get to draw jrwi fanart for school. i tried to make him look closer to canon but sorta gave up on that towards the end.
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kaiserouo Ā· 6 months ago
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"Huh."
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popppyfur Ā· 2 months ago
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sometimes when i like characters thisssss much i like drawing unnecessarily complicated comics of them having a normal ass conversation
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mutable-manifestation Ā· 2 months ago
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Ghost Chirps AU Part 5
Part 1 & 2
Part 3
Part 4
***
While ā€œJasonā€ (i.e. Alfred with an empty jet that Jason will meet up with later in order to ā€œarriveā€ in Amity) hops a private jet, Red Hood is busy searching the Fenton home from top to bottom.
The local police move slowly, and by the time they arrive Jack and Maddie Fenton are both tied up and disarmed in their living room under heavy guard.
They hadnā€™t been restrained immediately, Batman talking him into giving them a chance to implicate themselves first.
Hood let him take the lead, but he didnā€™t even get a chance to ask a question, being cut off at the first indication he might want to talk about their ā€œwork.ā€ Less than 60 seconds in, and the pair had outright confessed to violating the meta protection acts - and in tedious detail.
The questioning didnā€™t suffer any from them being tied up.
Far from the mulish silence or crocodile-tear laden denial of most criminals, they instead doubled down, insisting that nothing they had done was illegal, then jumping to the assumption that they were ā€œpossessedā€ - and boy had it been a nasty surprise when the whole house came alive trying to attack them with a quick verbal command.
Well, trying to attack Hood. And only him, for some reason.
One laser also freed the Fentons, who turned out to have even more weapons built into their suits.Ā 
Somehow.Ā 
Despite them being skintight.
That had been a pain, but Red Robin was able to hack the system using one of the couplesā€™ own devices while Hood dodged - and kept the stray fire away from the others - leaving everyone else to recapture the pair. A blessedly simple task once they found out the lasers would splash harmlessly off of their armor (save for a gross film of green goop left wherever they grazed).
They take turns knocking each unconscious to change them in order to properly disarm them - Batman and Nightwing taking Jack first, followed by Orphan and Spoiler dealing with Maddie.Ā 
The only non-weapon laden clothing they own turns out to be pajamas.Ā 
This is around when the police show up, looking hesitant.
They, too, cite the ā€œAnti-Ecto Acts.ā€
Oracle had debriefed them on the supposed Acts and ā€œGhost Investigation Wardā€ on their short drive over. Both were utterly bogus - the Acts had never even been proposed, let alone been approved as law, and the so-called ā€œGIWā€ had no ties to the government.
The Fentons had been furious and denied the information intensely when told, but the cops mostly just looked relieved.
Apparently thereā€™d been a lot of property damage by the GIW and Fentons both that had supposedly been dismissed under the Acts as ā€œnecessary in the pursuit of ecto-scum.ā€
For the Fentons, half of this damage was in the form of broken fire hydrants, cracked sidewalks, and totaled cars - theyā€™d never been good drivers, before, the cops disclosed, but theyā€™d become even more negligent since the ghosts began appearing, to the point they had to have a news segment warning when they would be on the road.
The lack of fatalities thus far had been nothing short of a miracle, they claimed.
ā€œOf course there havenā€™t been any fatalities!ā€ Mrs Fenton defends. ā€œOur work is to protect people from those things, not make more! Officers, listen to reason-ā€ Hood snorts disdainfully -ā€The Red Hood is clearly a ghost! All our systems targeted him the moment they came online - and they only target ecto-entities. Heā€™s clearly taken these heroes under his sway - why else would they be working with a murderer!? You have to do something before he starts up his killing here in Amity!ā€
The officers look at him a bit hesitantly, but Batman is unmoved and gives the cover story Hood had outlined back in the alley.
Any concerns the locals have are quickly assuaged.
But for the whole explanation, Jason is trying not to shake even as he falls apart in place.
Their little website called them ghost-hunters, making it pretty clear what ā€œecto-entitiesā€ meant.Ā 
Their system supposedly only targets ecto-entities.
The system had only targeted him.
The system only targets ghosts.
Jason had died.
A lot of his family members had died, too, granted.Ā 
But Jason was the only one who seemed to come back wrong - anger sticking in his throat and never quite fading, an inclination towards violence even when he wasnā€™t angry well beyond what heā€™d ever felt before, and a sea of other emotions (that he would never acknowledge aloud) and triggers for those emotions that he always struggled to make heads or tails of.
He doesnā€™t have the meta gene. He knows that. He knew that.
He just assumed that the test missed it, because he knows he doesnā€™t know magic - the All Blades being the only exception - and he couldnā€™t think of another explanation at the time.
But he came back wrong.
And as he stands there, he wonders if he came back at all, mind on Solomon Grundy.
Wonders if he isnā€™t just some ghost, wandering around possessing his own corpse.
He jolts, as the thought strikes him: what about Danny?
If heā€™s a ghost and chirping is a ghost thing then what about his KID!?
Absently, he notes that Bruce has started interrogating the cops on what they meant by ā€œghost attacks.ā€Ā 
He ignores the discussion, hustling for the door in the kitchen down to the lab.
He slams and locks the door behind him - in Red Robinā€™s face - as he descends, making a b-line for the computer heā€™d seen when the Fentons had dragged them all down there to start bragging about their crimes.
The only thing Oracle could get out of the whole building was things that were openly available online; direct connections were impossible.
Opening up the screen, he gets to cracking.
Going for the surface level files first, it turns out he doesnā€™t even need so much as a password to find what he wants.
One of the video game sub-files has an unrelated file in it: ghost notes.
There are plenty of other notes, of course, but heā€™d only been skimming to start, looking for anything hidden.
The Fenton parents were too open to bother, of course, with plenty of more obvious files strewn haphazardly across the home screen, but itā€™s always better to check. That there is a hidden file means it was likely made by either Danny or Jazz.
And itā€™s a treasure trove.
Sub-files for rogues, allies, conditional allies, and ā€œhalfasā€ were what greeted him.
The last being the only term he didnā€™t recognize, he clicked.
6 files: Clones, Danny, Dani, Dan, Vlad, and Red Hood.
He clicks his own file.
What greets him is a picture of himself 4 days ago, looking just to the left of the lens in an alley that he distinctly remembers searching for the kid in.
Just below is text.
~~~
??? Name: Red Hood
Species: probably a halfa
Status: Nnnneutral? I think? I know, I know, heads in bags. But Valerie tries to kill me all the time! And weā€™re allies sometimes! Hood- uh- looked for me? Okay I guess I canā€™t really judge this yet but please read the first met section before you judge please you guys?
First met: Aug 17, 2005, was in Gotham to bother Batman, stopped to think a bit on some fire escape - decide on the first prank yknow - but then my ghost sense went off. It felt like a halfa so I thought ā€œoh cool, must be Daniā€ so I chirped, but then Red Hood - who was chasing some guy down an alley at the time - froze and looked around. I dropped visibility and chirped again and yeah, he definitely heard it. Humans canā€™t so heā€™s definitely a halfa - no glow so he canā€™t be a full ghost and it felt nothing like an overshadowing.Ā 
Ended up following Hood around the rest of week - forgot to prank Batman, damn - and playing hide-and-seek with the chirps. It was really funny. But he very obviously doesnā€™t know heā€™s a halfa. But the guy is, like, scary levels of smart, so Iā€™m sure heā€™ll figure it out on his own now that the chirp thing made it clear that something is up. Hopefully.
I figure I can go back in winter break - he should have it figured out and let his emotions process enough by then to at least hear me out when I explain the AEA and GIW and everything, then it wonā€™t matter so much if he can, like, track me by voice or something if I talk since weā€™ll have MAD by then.
Despite his reputation, the people living in his haunt seem to love the guy. I can see why. On top of the whole smart heā€™s actually really nice to people heā€™s not shooting in the knees (which only even happened one time in the week I was there? It was actually pretty relaxing - most quiet week Iā€™ve had since the portal opened THANK YOU TUCKER for hacking the portal hatch to be inoperable for a week).Ā 
Where was I? Oh yeah, heā€™s actually surprisingly nice to people? So like, I think heā€™ll probably hear me out if I go back and be polite? I hope. Hate to leave the guy in the dark and him end up on the GIWs dissection table for ā€œlots and lots of painful experiments.ā€
Not that those guys could even catch the Box Ghost. But uh, Hood doesnā€™t seem to have powers either? Or if he does he doesnā€™t know about them I donā€™t think - he only used the chirp the whole time I was their - not even to cheat with moving around.
Seriously. That guy's acrobatics could make Freakshowā€™s contortionist green - er, red??? - with envy. Actually wait, arenā€™t contortionists and acrobats different things?
SAM NOTE: help^?
Powers:Ā 
?
~~~
Jason leans back, breathing deeply.
ā€œNot a full ghost,ā€ ā€œnot 'overshadowed'ā€ - a term that sounds likke some kind of cousin to possesision - ā€œdefinitely a halfa,ā€ ā€œhumans canā€™t hear chirps.ā€
Halfa.Ā 
Half.Ā 
Ghost.Ā 
Half Ghost.
It should sound absurd - you canā€™t be half alive and half dead.
But Jason has seen the Lazarus pits, has met Solomon Grundy, has met aliens and bullshit magic and can pull magical swords out of his own damn chest.
Half alive. Half dead.
Hopefully not just a fancy way to say possessing his own corpse.
He doesnā€™t have time to deal with every file - heā€™ll ā€œconfiscateā€ one of their USBs with a copy of everything for himself before leaving the rest to Batman & co, of course, minus the halfa files (a small part of him wants to shove his condition in Bruceā€™s face and demand he kill the clown again even though he knows itā€™s a futile hope, but the rest - the same part that snapped and denied and refused to say he was a meta less that a day ago now - cannot stomach the thought of even more rejection. Of a Bruce that believes heā€™s a monster. Of a Bruce that mourns him even while heā€™s right there. Or at least, more than he already does.) - but while the files copy he take the time to look at Dannyā€™s.
The image has two people, Danny Fenton on one side and a version of the kid in a black hazmat suit with white hair, tanned skin, and painfully familiar green eyes. And floating.
~~~
Human Name: Danny Fenton
Ghost Name: Danny Phantom
Species: Halfa (half-human, half ghost)
~~~
Itā€™s the section after that that makes Jasonā€™s breath catch in his throat.
~~~
Death: The Portal Accident
So like, there was no audio (thank GOD I do not want to hear myself screaming) so. Details: When the portal didnā€™t work when they plugged it in mom and dad left for fudge, Jazz went to try and talk them into a more realistic career choice than ghosts. Sam and Tucker came over and Sam dared me to climb in and check it out - it was broken anyway so no harm. Except it wasnā€™t broken, just that my parents put the on button inside. Which I caught myself on when I tripped on a wire.
Anyway, electrocution!Ā 
(T - Danny for the love of god be more serious, the cheerful tone is creepy)
(D - Hey! Iā€™m the one who died! Shouldnā€™t I at least get to write my own epitaph)
(S - ā€¦Danny this is not an epitaph. You donā€™t even HAVE a grave)
(D - wow way to rub it in Sam)
(T - yeah Sam)
(S - ugh! Whatever, just stop with the chatting in official files)
(T - ā€œofficialā€)
(S - Tucker.)
(T - shutting up now)
Electrocution! I got zapped to death, but the ectoplasm from the portal was also opening up on top of me and a lot got bonded to me I guess (S - probably because of the electricity with how you ended up with some of Vortex' powers for a little while) at the same time said electricity was reviving me? - probably getting my heart beating again or something, I was a little busy screaming to pay attention (T - yeah okay we're going to Nasty Burger after this. And playing Doomed) - not that it wouldā€™ve mattered without the ghostification preventing me from melting me all the way to death.
Status: Me!
Powers:
Chirps! (ghost echolocation of some kind! humans can't hear em - halfas can, of course, in either form)
Form Change (really Sam? This barely counts)
Human form
Ghost form (no need to breathe)
Flight (last clock speed 210mph) (T - and climbing. Dang dude)
Invisibility (S - donā€™t forget shareable.) (Shareable. sigh)
Intangibility (Shareable)
Ecto Rays (eyes & hands) (T - and butt) (D - dude! Iā€™m deleting that. Tucker why can't I delete it. TUCKER) (T - bow down in awe of my ksill) (S - ksill) (D - ksill) (T - yeah okay itā€™s permanent now) (D - aw man!)
Ghost Sense (S - why do we never test your range?) (D - no need? They always make themselves obvious or are being sneaky specifically to annoy me so *shrug*) (S - I still think we should test it)
Power Absorption (that time with Vortexā€™s weather powers)
Cryokinesis (Wayyyyy to much ice. NOT testing max output on that) (T - yeah frozen city was enough, letā€™s not cause an ice age. Tech needs some cool but too much is still bad and I just upgraded Patricia)
Ghostly Wail (cone of destruction, very exhausting - always at max output. Not to be used)
GHOST FORM ONLY (but really just never)
Cartoon Body (D - what???) (S - Freakshow literally turned you into a puddle and you just turned back and were fine. I donā€™t know what else to call that) (D - okay fair. but:)
GHOST FORM ONLY
Physical Enhancement (better strength, speed, stamina, durability, reflexes, balance, etc much better than human) (T - why does this look like dnd knockoff stats haha)
GHOST FORM ONLY (S - obviously mr last place in PE)
Resistances (pretty solid on the overshadowing, avoided being taken in by Ember until targeted, didnā€™t get turned to stone during the Medusa thing) (S - which was pure luck! Be careful!)
Ecto Electricity (ghost stinger, but I really donā€™t think this counts Sam. I mean I just. Make my ecto zappy. But itā€™s still just ecto) (S - so is your ICE and you donā€™t just call that "just cold ecto") (D - fine, but it feels overly specific) (S - maybe writing it all down will make you stop. Forgetting. POWERS!) (D - come on Sam that was a lucky hit! I was distracted! And it turned out fine!) (S - Fentonā€¦) (D - oop okay doing fire now)
Ecto Fire (made Dashā€™s shoes melty that one time by make the ecto hot) (T - really needs more testing)
Tech possession (chasing Technus into computers, not very tested)
Ghost form only, i guess?
Overshadowing (control people, copy their voice, invade dreams - the control one erases the personā€™s memory so they donā€™t know they were overshadowed just lost time. I hate Walker. SO much) (T - rip Dannyā€™s reputation, youā€™ll be missed)
Probably ghost form only
Duplication (T - Thatā€™s optimistic) (D - Iā€™M WORKING ON IT OKAY!?) (S - pretty sure it just falls under cartoon body until you can actually separate) (D - :( betrayal)
Probably ghost form only
More? (D - ugh I hope not) (T - hey donā€™t say that, maybe youā€™ll get a power to make the JL give a crap about Amity) (D - honestly Iā€™m getting pretty close to letting Boxy loose in Gotham) (S - Danny, donā€™t stoop to their level!) (D - it's only box ghost!) (T - I mean he has a point)
~~~
Jason changes his mind, seeing the commentary, and deletes the entire hidden file from the computer as soon as his copy is made. He can go over everything and bring any important info to Bruce separately, the batā€™s can just chew on the parentsā€™ files for now.
Once the original files are thoroughly and irretrievably removed he pockets his shiny new USB, makes a second one with all the official files, and heads back up and out - carelessly brushing past a thoroughly irate Red Robin with a pair of firemen and broken jaws of life. And not a scratch on the door; impressive - just in time to get Oracleā€™s text that heā€™s got 2 hours and 16 minutes to be at the location on his HUD so he can ā€œarriveā€ to Amity.
And a fresh set of civilian clothes will be waiting in the plane, Alfred as reliable as ever.
ā€œFiles,ā€ he says, tossing the safe USB to Batman and interrupting his interrogation of the police officer.
He catches it effortlessly of course, but the officer stops paying attention to him to jolt at Hoodā€™s reappearance - even outside of Gotham his reputation is fierce.
ā€œI sent a copy to myself. Iā€™ll review them and give you an overview, but other than that consider this the end of my involvement in this little shitshow,ā€ he says, continuing smoothly to the door. ā€œIā€™m heading back to Gotham.ā€
Now, he has a little over two hours before Jason Todd needs to arrive in Amity Park. He only needs to lay hands on a laptop that he can isolate from Babsā€™ influence and he should be able to review the Halfa files in full before he "lands" - after he figures out just why the kid has a grudge against the JL.
#The defenses only attacked jason because the others are liminal#But not quite liminal enough for the Fenton House to pick up on#Heā€™s the only one who died and had it really *stick* thus why heā€™s the only halfa#Sure the others died but they were all revived fully#Death left a stain#Not a chain#Jason has one foot in the grave#The others batā€™s just have some graveyard dirt smudged on their pants cuffs#I can keep going with the metaphors#lol#Anyway#Their contamination is. Like. not worse than the average person living on the opposite side of the city as the Fentons#(which is a lot compared to everyone else in the whole world#but not much in terms of ā€œwill the house shoot meā€#Fenton ghost detecting devices arenā€™t that precise yet)#The ā€œfilesā€ arenā€™t super professional because like. Theyā€™re 14.#Itā€™s organized sure but itā€™s not gonna be scientific paper levels (& theyā€™d feel uncomfy making it too scientific sounding)#Thereā€™s powers missing on purpose (not thinking of thing as a power. All 3 forgot about it. Etc)#So why did the JL ignore Amity you ask?#Info blackout#One does not simply ignore the Meta Protection Acts and pretend to be a govā€™t agency without taking precautions#Everything out of Amity Park is sanitized as hell. (ha#and doesnā€™t that just fit the GIW clean-obsession)#ā€œBut Mutable!ā€ I hear you cry ā€œWhat about Undergrowth & Vortex!ā€#I donā€™t remember Undergrowthā€™s radius of effect but Iā€™m saying my AU he was Amity-only and the GIW set up a blockade to intimidate witnesse#Same deal with Pariah town-knapping the place (GIW base was JUST out of the town-knapping radius. Lucky them)#As for Vortex#the storms themselves made it impossible to track anything through normal means#(ie no cams caught Sam & Tuckerā€™s jet taunting Vortex except some people with cells on the street. But wind killed all the audio)#So as far as the world is concerned there was a freak storm and it went away
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morganbritton132 Ā· 2 months ago
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Oh geez this might be a double ask because my phone glitched out when I tried to send previously BUT just wanted to say that I love ur Steve has older siblings au
I also need to say that I shamelessly combined that au with ur post about Tommy knowing Steve the best. Just picturing Steveā€™s sibs zoning out when his mom lists what he canā€™t eat because they assume sheā€™s just being difficult. Flash forward a few years and they accidentally poison Steve with like peanut butter cookies and are realllly lucky that Tommy was staying over that weekend and knows heā€™s allergic.
anyways thx for all ur writing!
I only got this ask once so weā€™re good! The Steve Has Older Siblings AU has kinda been on hold for a bit because Dustin is either the easiest or the hardest character to write and right now, heā€™s being difficult for me.
BUT! I love this.
Iā€™m going to change it around a bit because Iā€™m on this kick right now where Steve is allergic to aspirin. Also, with the way that Steveā€™s mom is written for this AU, she is negligent but protective of her son. I donā€™t think sheā€™d allow peanut butter in the house if Steve was allergic.
She wouldnā€™t allow aspirin either but Richard insists that itā€™s the only thing that cures a migraine (hangover), and Steveā€™s eight. He doesnā€™t even like taking his Flintstone vitamins so sheā€™s not concerned about him getting in the medicine cabinet.
Itā€™s not common that Tommy stays over at Steveā€™s when theyā€™re sick.
Typically his mom watches them at their house but she had to go wake up his grandma (ā€œThat doesnā€™t make any sense. Why canā€™t she set an alarm clock?ā€/ā€I dunno, Steve. Thatā€™s what Mommy said. She had to go to Grannyā€™s wake.ā€) so Mrs. Harrington was babysitting them.
Mrs. Harrington isnā€™t very good at taking care of them. Tommy wouldnā€™t tell Steve that because itā€™ll make him sad, but his mom kinda sucks at this. She doesnā€™t even give them popsicles for their sore throats or kiss their foreheads to check their temperature. She just disappears for long periods of time to yell into the phone.
Tommyā€™s kinda happy when she has to go into the office because he thinks Claire might look after them, but sheā€™s apparently studying in her room so Steveā€™s brothers are doing it.
Tommy secretly likes this better because Jason and Richie are very nice to him, and they tell him that heā€™s cooler than Steve. No one has ever said that before! Not even Carol and they got married under the jungle gym.
Tommy likes hanging out with them even if he feels icky today.
He is standing in the kitchen next to Steve, watching Richie cut a little orange pill in half with a knife. Richie keeps muttering under his breath about running out of the ā€˜liquid S H I T.ā€™ Tommy thinks itā€™s funny that he said a bad word, but canā€™t laugh about it because he can see the bottle that the pill came out of and ā€“
ā€œI donā€™t think we take that,ā€ He voices but Richie brushes him off. He says itā€™s like candy. Tommy has brothers too, so he knows that sometimes you gotta give in or theyā€™ll rub your face into the carpet until you get rugburn, but, ā€œI know butā€¦ but what if only I take it?ā€
ā€œYou take half,ā€ Richie tells him. ā€œStevie over here takes the other half and then weā€™re right as rain. It reduces fever.ā€
ā€œYeah,ā€ Jason adds from behind them. ā€œSo your brain doesnā€™t leak out your ears.ā€
Tommy looks over at Steve but he isnā€™t fully awake so thereā€™s not much of a reaction there. Plus, heā€™s not a very good reader so Tommyā€™s not sure if he even knows what the bottle says. He tries again, ignoring Jason, ā€œThatā€™s not what Mrs. Harrington gave us earlier.ā€
ā€œYeah, I know. This is better.ā€
ā€œSteve canā€™t take that,ā€ Tommy tries again after he crunches the medicine between his teeth. He sticks out his tongue so Richie can see that itā€™s gone, and then adds, ā€œMommy gave that to him once and it made him really sick.ā€
ā€œIt did?ā€ Steve croaks, snatching his hand back when Richie tries to hand him the pill. Richie tries to force the pill into his mouth but Steve presses his lips together. It makes his brother swear and gesture to Jason, and then Steve is snatched off his feet with a hand pinching his nose shut.
He struggles and Tommy wants to help but he ā€“ he also wants Richie and Jason to like him so, he doesnā€™t help. Steve gasps for breath and the pill goes inā€¦and Steve is fine. Heā€™s angry and out of breath, and his nose is still stuffy so he still kinda sounds like a frog but heā€™s not.. heā€™s not blue like last time.
Tommy thinks, oh. He thinks, cool.
Everything is fine for fifteen minutes and then Tommy is yelling out the door of Steveā€™s bedroom that they need help. Steve is breathing weird and ā€“ ā€œand, I ā€“ I think heā€™s going to die!ā€
A lot of stuff happens at once. Claire leaves her room, Jason and Richie come up the stairs, and they all start yelling and blaming each other. No one really jumps into action until Tommy bursts into tears. Then itā€™s movement and car rides, and Tommy is sitting in the waiting room at the hospital without shoes on.
He doesnā€™t know how long theyā€™ve been sitting there when Mr. and Mrs. Harrington rush into the room. The only thing he does know is that heā€™s never seen anybody look as angry as Mrs. Harrington did when she sees them.
She looks like sheā€™s going to yell at them but Mr. Harrington grabs her by the arm and drags her to the reception desk. They disappear behind the white double doors that Steve went through.
It only makes Tommy cry harder.
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ruporas Ā· 1 year ago
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i killed. i murdered. i'm nothing like these sleepy people hereā€¦ nevertheless, you can actually be grateful? bastardā€¦ iā€™m sayingā€¦ thank you. because you spilled blood, you saved all of these peopleā€™s lives. i couldnā€™t have done it without you. (ID in alt)
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#participated in altades' dance collab :3 very grateful for the opportunity and many thanks to them for organizing this!#there was a lot of vw arc choices... but i went for the leonof arc bc it's a dear vw moment to me#i think a lot of the leonof arc further breaks down vash's ideology and for the readers - together with ww- to learn that his ideals aren't#pure naivety and that vash knows he's at an odd standpoint with himself. he's criticized ww for shooting rai-dei just prior when ww had don#so on the behalf of vash but here he thanks him for killing on behalf of his home and its genuine. bc vash's presence - although it's not#his fault - he was the reason leonof and gray had gotten to the ship and killed people there. that's the guilt he has to live with and#despite his anger he'd still resolute not to kill. meanwhile ww just did what he had to - beating down on a seemingly immortal monster but#at the core made up of many lives he had to take and i feel as the fight dragged on - his own mentality waned. committing active carnage#while remembering the orphanage... and bearing that guilt alongside the words vash left with him during rai-dei's death#only for vash to thank him afterwards what he's done and for apologizing for pushing his beliefs on ww when he had no solutions of his own#anyway. i just have so an immense love for this arc bc they just got around to appreciating each other in weird ways. though ofc its still#weird and confusing for ww bc every new info on vash it'll just be strange to him as someone who's human#ruporas art
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violent138 Ā· 4 months ago
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HC that Crime Lord Red Hood routinely donates medical equipment, money, and well-trained black market medics (formerly employed by gang leaders he took down) to Leslie's clinic. He's also obsessive about updating or improving the generators at the clinic and wears her down in a way that Batman couldn't.
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cfffrk Ā· 6 months ago
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+ little bonus
I think I accidentally created their son instead of Jeeves when I was drawing the first framešŸ˜­
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pa-pa-plasma Ā· 1 year ago
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hey i feel like we're really sleeping on that time Danny possessed Vlad & framed him for assaulting a minor
Editing with the clip because people don't believe me. Episode is 41: Eye for an Eye.
#Danny Phantom#i think this ties into my other post i made a long time ago about Danny siccing the GIW on Vlad#like we KNOW in CANON that if Danny was even a tiny bit more like Vlad he would literally become a supervillain#villain is such a stupid word i hate how it's spelled. why is it like that#anyways i need to like. rewatch DP cuz i remember shit & then i'm like#did that actually happen. because that sounds too insane#but like. he Did That. didnt he#i think that's what i love about this character. but a lot of people ignore it#Danny is like. gritting his teeth going ''do good do good'' it isnt effortless it isnt easy he doesnt even want to do it half the time#& sometimes yeah he WILL do crimes or get back at people who've been assholes to him or whatever#he WILL use his powers for bad sometimes#he'll be like ''dont do that it's bad'' but like. he WILL do it himself#the whole ''i'm a hero'' thing he's got going on is like. more of a. how do i put this#it's like when you're drawing or writing & saying ''it doesnt have to be perfect it just has to BE''#like Danny isn't a hero sometimes. he's got morals & has a general understanding of good & bad#but also he's 14 & being attacked every day#i would start saying bad words & threatening people that annoy me too man#okay i glanced over the scene again for the first time in years & Danny was literally in the middle of outing Vlad to the whole town???#hello?? are we really ignoring this?????#VLAD TORNADO VLAD TORNADO VLAD TORNADO#this show is so stupid i love it#love how Sam & Tucker immediately backed him up yeah fuck Vlad all my homies hate Vlad#okay you know what. maybe i will do a DP liveblog. i think it would be fun#on daddyplasmius. only posting this on pa-pa-plasma cuz it's kind of just a. weird rant post? kind of? idk
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add1ctedt0you Ā· 1 year ago
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The Untamed - Episode 19
Throughout the night, he [Jiang Cheng] had somehow managed to sleep a couple of times. The first reason was that, having been too tired from crying himself weak, he couldn't help from passing out. The second reason was that he still had the hope that this might be a nightmare. He couldn't wait to wake up after some rest and open his eyes to find himself lying inside of his room back in Lotus Pier. His father would be wiping his sword in the main hall. His mother would be angry again and complaining, scolding Wei Wuxian who winked in a funny way. His sister would be in the kitchen, thinking as hard as she could about what to make today. His shidi would be refusing to do their morning lessons properly and jumping around.
The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Chapter 59, Poisons- Part Four
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skyloftian-nutcase Ā· 7 months ago
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Ok Wild Angsters, you wanted a continuation, so here you go :)
Four already knew what he would be walking into. His phone had been blowing up for hours. Heā€™d come in to work early. Whether he was assigned to take care of Wild or not was another matter - Vaati loved to try and take all the admissions, convinced he was the best nurse on the unit. If Four could just keep Vaati out of Wildā€™s room, heā€™d consider it a success.
When the charge nurse told him he would be admitting the trauma alert, he knew who he was getting.
Pre-admission jitters always made Four anxious, but this was an entirely other level of fear. He almost wanted to request a different assignment, but it was too late now. What if he couldnā€™t take caer of him because he was his friend? What if that impair his decision making? What if he just wasnā€™t skilled enough to handle it? He knew Ezlo wouldnā€™t give him an assignment he couldnā€™t handle, wouldnā€™t be there to support him, but stillā€¦
Four went over the supplies in his room once more. Safety checks were fineā€”they had suction, they had a bag valve mask, the code card was nearbyā€”and he had all the supplies he needed. It was just a waiting game.
Four paced the unit at least three times before he looked at the OR status board again. Wild was still in surgery. He poked in his chart, glancing at injuries, looking at vital signs and anesthesia notes. The last update he saw was that Wild had gotten another unit of blood. Estimated blood loss so far was around 2200mL.
2200mL. Thatā€¦ wasnā€™t too terrible, Four supposed. Heā€™dā€¦ seen worse.
Please donā€™t get worse.
Four knew for certain that Wild had been mass transfused in the ED. Warriors, his primary nurse when he was there, had told him as much. Between that and the multiple blood products heā€™d gotten in surgery, as well all the crystalloids he was likely getting as wellā€¦
Four took a breath. Then another. He grabbed his phone, texting Warriors. You doing ok?
Wars didnā€™t reply.
Four wasnā€™t entirely sure where everyone was at this point. Hyrule had stayed at the hospital, lingering in the emergency department and then the operating room waiting area, but Four hadnā€™t seen him since heā€™d clocked in. Warriors and Legend should be getting off shift now, but whether they were going to stay up was another matter. Time was obviously in the OR (Wildā€™s wreck had been around 10pm, heā€™d arrived in the ED around 10:45, and heā€™d been stabilized for surgery and gone to the OR by around midnight - it was 7am nowā€¦ he wasnā€™t sure how long this was going to take, but it couldnā€™t be much longer). Malon should be getting on shift now as well - she had come in last night when everything had gone down, alongside Twilight. Wind had been cautiously left out of the loop until Wild had gone to surgery, simply because nobody had really had much information at the time, so no one wanted to worry the kid until they could figure things out. Everyone had their hands full as it was. But by now, Four knew Wind was either in the OR waiting room, harassing every respiratory therapist he knew, or in the hospital library pacing anxiously. As for Sky, the last Four heard he was bouncing between different people, checking in on everyone.
He clicked through more anesthesia notes, looked at flow sheets for blood products. There wasnā€™t much to go on, as charting was sparse. What Four did know was that Wild had been obtunded, got mass transfused, had gotten a chest tube, had been intubated, blood was evident in his abdomen, and he had an open femur fracture. Heā€™s been taken to Timeā€™s OR for a ex-lap. Head CT had shown a bleed, and they were monitoring it. That was all the information Legend had told the group when heā€™d had a moment to spare.
Fourā€™s vocera activated, telling him he had a call from the charge nurse. When he answered, he was told Malon had called and said theyā€™d be finishing up in about thirty minutes and were likely to come up open.
Why was he coming up with his abdomen open? When had they gone from exploratory laparotomy to a full on open abdomen?
Ten minutes later, Malon called back to give report. When Four answered, the first thing he asked was, ā€œHowā€™s he doing? Is he okay? Are you okay?ā€
ā€œIā€™m fine,ā€ Malon said, even though she sounded exhausted. ā€œAnd heā€™sā€¦ hanging in there. Iā€™ve seen worse, Iā€™ll say that. Iā€™ll give you the full rundown, okay?ā€
Four listened as Malon gave report, feeling his heart settled into his stomach, which was tying itself in knots. Multiple spots of bleeding, possible compartment syndrome in his abdomen, a likely kidney injury due to compression from the bleeding on some major vessels, a small hematoma in his brainā€¦ theyā€™d had to call neurosurgery to do an emergency craniotomy out of overt concern of swelling, given that Wild had apparently had previous head trauma, based on what they saw in the OR.
Open abdomen, craniotomy, ICP monitoring, bleeding, one chest tubeā€¦ this was a disaster. Four swallowed as he wrote, feeling his hand shake a little as his heart raced. He was not qualified enough to be admitting this. He was not.
But the turnaround on his unit was pretty insane, and he was the most experienced nurse on the unit today. At least Ezlo was charge; he knew heā€™d be well supported.
This was a nightmare. But Four had dealt with nightmares, and he would deal with this. He wasnā€™t going to screw up taking care of any patient, but especially his friend.
Sighing, he hung up the phone after thanking Malon, pushing worries for her and Time aside, trying to focus on what he would need, who he should grab to help him, and how he should prep his room.
It was time to get to work.
When everyone arrived from the OR, Four made brief eye contact with Time. He couldnā€™t read much from the man, who was stone faced, aside from the exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes. Four got to work quickly, assessing Wild from head to toe as he looked to see what IV medications he was on. A coworker wrote the note while Ezlo helped detangle his lines (the OR always brought up a mess, after all). Time gave an overview of the surgery, and Four listened along as he checked pupils, as he zeroed the arterial line and the ICP monitor, as he listened to lung and heart sounds, as he checked the chest tube and stripped it with his fingers to ensure patency, as he checked peripheral pulses, as he looked at the abdominal dressing to get a baseline in case there was swelling from bleeding later. One of the techs connected the chest tube to wall suction, and Four looked over his drips. Only having levophed at 2 wasnā€™t terrible, and he was getting a unit of red blood cells, which was in a transfusion set that was yā€™d to some lactated ringers fluid. He was on propofol for sedation. Another nurse grabbed a blood gas from his arterial line and sent off labs. His foley he had was temp sensing, and Four quickly ascertained that Wild was cold, so he set up the blanket warmer and covered his friend up.
His friend. His friend.
Four shook his head. He had to focus.
As Time left the room, he put a hand on Fourā€™s shoulder, making him freeze. The surgeon didnā€™t speak, just locking eyes with him. Four wasnā€™t entirely sure if it was for his own benefit or not. But he had no more time to let his emotions make any decisions for him. He nodded to the doctor, who nodded in return, and then the two went their separate ways.
This was going to be a long day.
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canyoureallycallthisablog Ā· 7 months ago
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I'm love ttyd so of course I was gonna make art when I heard the news
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