#i don't mean to make light of actual medical problems

[j-egg-ssica]

just like me fr fr

[sunderwight]

Thinking about an Arcane canon divergence AU where Viktor was actually sitting closer to Mel when Jinx's rocket hit.

Mel says that she wasn't really conscious of protecting herself & Jayce, and while that could mean that the magic just chose to protect Jayce too because of their relationship and her affection for him, I'm going to assume that since she must've also physically lunged in his direction that it was more that her self-protection had an area of effect that she was subconsciously able to extend towards him.

But with the two of them sitting further away, she doesn't make it. She gets far enough to semi-unintentionally shield Viktor instead, but Jayce gets blasted into the rubble, just like Viktor was in canon.

And this fucks Viktor up ENTIRELY.

He was prepared to die to destroy the hexcore, or at least he told himself that. He had been preparing for the eventuality of his own death for some time.

But Jayce dying? Suddenly? Violently? Right in front of Viktor? Just like Sky did, barely a blink ago, and perhaps even more shockingly given that they weren't even in the potentially-dangerous environment of the lab?

No. Nope. New plan -- when the medics tell Viktor there's nothing more they can do, then the hexcore is going to save Jayce. Viktor will make it save Jayce. Even if he has to shove Jayce into some kind of stasis pod modeled after Orianna's while he figures out the nuts and bolts. He tries not to think about becoming just like his old teacher. Mostly fails. Does it anyway. There's no one to really stop him, after all. Jayce's mother is also clinging to whatever hope can be found, the council is in tatters, Cassandra is dead and Caitlyn is thoroughly distracted, and Mel also has bigger fish to fry than whatever Viktor might be doing with Jayce's basically-dead body.

It takes Viktor longer to figure out how to fix Jayce than it took him to just come out of the cocoon himself in cannon. After all, he's mostly tailored his experiments to his own body, and also, he's got to deal with his own health problems at the same time. This eventually drives him back to Singed, to experiments with shimmer, and Vander, making test subjects out of the shimmer addicts desperate enough to do anything for another hit, using Vander to heal himself so that he can heal Jayce, and grappling with the immorality of it all. He always told himself that he wanted to help the people. But in the grim light of tragedy, all he really wants now is his partner back.

Eventually he does get Jayce into his very own Goopy Carbonite Block.

After that, though, I'm at a bit of a loss. What would the hexcore do to Jayce? I don't think he'd go the same route as Viktor, but obviously the arcane would have an (almost certainly negative) effect on him, and the hexcore itself seems to very much want to replicate and absorb everyone into it. Or are whatever "aims" it might have necessarily rooted in actual person interpreting them? Were the hexcore and the hallucinatory Sky only like that because things were essentially being filtered through Viktor? Would the hexcore's own aims change with its host? Or would it basically be the same but have more difficulties in getting Jayce to cooperate?

Much to consider for that part.

[happyhauntt]

a lack of caffeine — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: caffeine makes the world go 'round. that's something you and spencer can agree on.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, reader is autistic & a mom, spencer's iq gets slashed to sixty when he talks to pretty girls and it's my favourite thing. no use of y/n. swearing. i really fucking struggled with this it's so boring. thank you to everyone who requested a part 2!

─── word count: 1.8k.

     The call comes in at four in the morning.

     The screen reads three missed calls by the time its incessant buzzing rouses you from your slumber, and you pull it out from beneath your pillow. Squinting at the sudden brightness of it, an unlisted number stares back at you as your phone keeps vibrating insistently in your grip.

     When you finally wake up enough to realise it could be work, you answer it. Agent Hotchner's familiar voice is stern and low and only a little apologetic as he informs you that you're going to be required in the field for a new case, and you should be at the airfield within the hour.

     There isn't enough time to ask any questions before the line clicks, and you're left blinking into the dim light of your bedroom as you try to gather your bearings.

     Sleep itches at the corners of your eyes, all gritty and blurry, and though part of your mind recalls reading this little clause in the contract you’d signed, that constant availability takes on a whole new meaning when you work for the BAU, you still take a moment to fantasise about pushing Aaron Hotchner off a cliff.

     You’re not a morning person. And you would argue that 4AM isn’t even the morning, it’s the middle of the night, and why can’t serial killers do their business during normal business hours?

     A new case. Not your first case since joining the unit as their resident independent medical examiner, but the first where you would join the rest of the team in the field. The first where you'll be required to exert federal authority over county coroners, where you'll have to step on toes in order to get the job done.

     You know they won't take too well to an outsider coming in and derailing their whole thing. You know you wouldn't. You used to be one of them, not that long ago.

     Ah, shit. As the drowsiness begins to fade out of your body, a light panic trickles in. Your skin starts to buzz as if you put your finger into a live socket. You grip your phone so hard it leaves a mark on your palm.

     It takes ten minutes to get ready, stumbling around your room and shoving clothes into a bag. You don't really care about matching socks, but you count out your underwear three times and hope you won't run out before the case is done. Do they have laundries you'll be able to use? Have the other members of the BAU ever encountered this problem? Should you pack your hair straightener or is it really going to matter?

     When you've finally dragged a brush through your hair and dumped the last of your toiletries into a ziploc bag, a dull realisation strikes you.

     Jackie.

     Going toe-to-toe with a rabid raccoon might be more appealing than waking up your sister-in-law in the middle of the night, but you don't really have much choice. She has to know what's going on, she'll be in charge of your daughter for however long you'll be gone, and leaving a note on the kitchen counter feels like the wrong move to make in this instance.

     Is there a protocol for this? A single-parent handbook you can check out at the library? This is something you really should've talked about when you got the job, you know that. You'd known it would require you to travel on occasion, often without prior notice, but it hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time. You'd brushed it under the rug, labelled it to be discussed later as if you and Jackie have ever actually sat down and done that.

     A thousand things sit unsaid between you. That rug has got a little mountain under it by now, almost impossible to ignore. It’s really only a matter of time before you trip over it.

     “Jackie. Jackie.”

     Your sister-in-law grumbles when you sneak into her room and poke her, hard and repeatedly, until she threatens to bite you. The news of your leaving doesn't take her by surprise — exhaustion seems to dull the stung of it — and she promises to call twice a day, every day, before she buries her face back into the pillow and starts to snore like a lawnmower.

     You hope she never, ever changes.

     Pressing a kiss to your sleeping daughter's forehead is the last thing you do before you finally manage to drag yourself out of the apartment. A dull ache thuds in your chest, where your heart should be. She'd looked so peaceful, so sweet, and you can't recall a time since she was born that you'd been apart from her for longer than a day. Her bright, happy giggle and wide eyes flash through your mind.

     As your car peels out of the parking garage, you feel distinctly like a piece of laundry someone hung out to dry and then forgot about.

     The sun is just beginning to kiss the horizon as you pull up to the airfield. Long streaks of a pink-fingered dawn creep across the sky. You flash your identification at the security guard and pull up alongside the jet, scrambling to grab your bag from the passenger seat.

     It doesn't surprise you that you're the last to arrive, but you'd hoped that wouldn't be the case.

     The clock just strikes 5AM as you clatter up the steps, practically falling into the aircraft. Technically, you're on time, but it still feels like you're late for class and your teacher is about to put it on your permanent record. A kind-faced hostess greets you, offers to stow your bag, and you flash her a sheepish smile as you hand it over and pass through the curtains into the main cabin.

     "Holy shit."

     You can't help yourself. Every single member of the team turns to look at you, craning their necks to see exactly who they're dealing with, but you can't even bring yourself to care. "This is a jet. It's actually... a jet."

     You blink at the open space as your jaw goes a little slack. Do you sound a little insane? Sure, and ordinarily you'd feel self-conscious with several pairs of unfamiliar eyes gawking at you, analysing your every movement as if it's their job to do so — and it actually is — but this honestly insane.

     You had no idea the BAU had this kind of budget. Do they own the plane? Do they rent it? Is it publically funded by the taxpayer, and why can't they fly commercial? Like, you're not complaining at all, those leather seats look so comfortable, but why—?

     An austere voice says your name once, twice, and you blink, looking up to find the furrowed brow of your boss frowning at you down the aisle.

     "Take a seat, doctor, we're about to take off."

     His tone leaves no room for argument. A flush rises in your cheeks, and you manage to stammer out an apology before throwing yourself into the nearest available seat, buckling your seatbelt.

     "It's a good thing you're the M.E and not a profiler, sweetcheeks." One of the agents nearest to you leans across the aisle. A charming grin spreads over his face as he offers up his hand in greeting. "Derek Morgan."

     "Oh, I know," you reply, shaking his hand firmly. "I, uh, looked you guys up after Dr. Reid paid a visit to the underworld and I didn't recognise him. Figured I should be a little more familiar with the other members of my team."

     "The underworld?" A blonde woman you realise must be Agent Jareau gives you a friendly, if slightly confused, smile.

     You shrug, suddenly a little embarrassed. Group settings have never been your thing. Too many people, too many unfamiliar eyes, far too many voices clashing together until it all becomes a sensory nightmare.

     You much prefer your little lab, and one-on-one conversations, usually with the unlucky cadavers that find themselves on your slab. They never talk back.

     "It's just what I call the morgue," you tell her. A loose bit of skin hangs off the edge of your nail, and you really, really want to pick at it. Fatigue hovers at the edge of your consciousness, and as the plane engines begin to roar, you find yourself wishing you’d made a coffee before leaving the apartment.

     You would have been late, for sure, but life would feel worth living so, y’know. Swings and roundabouts.

     "In Greek mythology, the underworld is where an individual goes after death. Early ideas suggest that someone’s essence, their psyche, is separated from their corpse at the point of death and transported to the underworld. Accounts differ on whether any judgement occurs, depending on which scholarship you’re citing." A familiar voice pipes up from the back of the plane and you glance over. The rich brown eyes looking back fill you with an odd warmth.

     More at ease with a familiar face, you settle back in your seat and lift your hand in a lazy wave. "Good morning, Dr Reid. It's nice to see you when I'm not elbow-deep in someone's intestines."

     Agent Jareau wrinkles her nose. "Now I'm really glad I didn't have time for breakfast."

     Reid's ears turn bright pink and he looks away, stuttering out his reply. "It's good to see you too. Uh, well, not good, given the circumstances, since there's a serial killer on the loose, but good because—"

     "We get the picture, Reid," Agent Hotchner cuts him off, and Reid turns his gaze back to the small window, a little flustered. Hotch looks, bizarrely, like he's trying not to smile. "Welcome to the team. We'll go over the case details once we're in the air."

     “Is there coffee in the air?” There might be a murder mid-flight otherwise. Really, how do they function at this time in the morning? The plane judders as it rolls over the tarmac, heading for the runway. “Or tea, or soda, or— Honestly, I’ll take whatever. I just don’t want to fall asleep in a body cavity later on.”

     Again.

     Reid finds himself nodding, entirely against his will. There’s something about the peculiar medical examiner, something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it makes him want to keep talking. More than usual, at least.

     He wonders if there’s duct tape on board. Or a parachute.

     “There’s coffee,” he confirms. Is his voice a little high?

     “Dr. Reid, I could kiss you—”

     Oh, hell. Judging by the way Morgan has a hand pressed to his mouth, stifling an obscenely loud chuckle, Reid suspects he’s never going to hear the end of this.

[olderthannetfic]

A common anti talking point is that "problematic" content is fine as long as it's portrayed in a bad light, and I know this is mostly a way for them to say "porn bad", but, like... if we exclude stupidity, is this even a common issue at all?

I try to think of what they could otherwise mean, because I read a lot of things they'd hate, but even the cutesy stuff has dark undertones, or is clearly done with the reader meant to understand that at least one character involved is a freak. Even with porn, I'm not sure I've seen many that didn't lean into how taboo it is. The closest trend I can think of is age gap romances where the protagonist is 16 and going for someone in their 30s, but even those make sure you're extremely aware of the age difference the entire time since that's the appeal. Or an anime where the siblings are REALLY close and no one comments, but as a viewer I can still clearly pick up that these are codependent freaks.

Is this a me thing? Do I just not see these swarms of insidious positive portrayals and they're actually everywhere? I don't doubt there are bad writers that fumble their stories, and I'm less likely to read those long enough to find out, so is that what they're referring to? Or is it really always just porn is evil?

--

No, people being dumb as a box of rocks and not grasping that weird internet porn is not a how-to manual is not that common a problem.

However, being traumatized and having zero useful mental health support is.

A lot of anti talking points are coming from a place of toxic coping. mechanisms where someone thinks that if they can just control everything around them The Bad Thing can't happen again, to them or to anyone else.

Blaming the influence of bad fiction is a very common step for people who haven't had enough time or safety to accept that, no, actually, the person they trusted hurt them on purpose because they felt like it, not because Media Made Them Do It.

Or that maybe their dumb teen self handled some situations badly, but it's because teens often do that and/or because no decent adult was around to ask them why they seemed upset, not because it was fiction's job to teach them boundaries. It's a lot easier to blame the concrete experience of reading something that modeled bad behavior than the highly amorphous negative space where good offline role models who paid attention and gave a fuck should have been.

--

Some people are self-medicating with a rage high. A few are nasty ringleaders trying to power trip. Lots are just scared dumbasses who haven't grasped that it's okay to have dark fantasies.

A lot of it is just people with the hubris to say "Well, I have decent reading comprehension and can spot subtext, but what if all these other people can't?"

[fungifanart]

And I'll Keep On Dancing

Characters: Male reader, Zayne

CW: Heart problems

Word count: 642

Notes: Greetings Love and Deepspace fandom. I come bearing a gift. I hope it is to your liking. (@ameleii / @leichor get behind me)

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

Considering the consistent tardiness of a certain regular patient, Zayne's learned to have low expectations for the rest of them, but, of course, this doesn't stop his current patient from surprising him by arriving 20 minutes early.

Having already gotten his exam equipment ready, he tells the receptionist to send the patient up.

After another couple minutes, in walks, slightly unsteadily, a man not too much younger than Zayne who carefully sits across from the doctor.

"Y/n L/n." Zayne says while skimming over the man's medical records, "Here for a checkup after a mild heart attack."

"T-that's right." The other man says while fidgeting, "I guess I went too hard when I was practicing my dance routine for an upcoming performance, so...here we are."

"I see." Zayne says, "Your records say that you have no history of heart problems or conditions, so this may be an isolated incident. However, we still need to check for abnormalities and I have some medicines to prescribe you regardless." He finishes while picking up his first tool.

After the tests are done, Zayne begins writing down the results in silence, which is then broken by the other man clearing his throat.

"So, uh, doctor?" He asks hesitantly, drawing Zayne's attention, "Do you know how long it'll take for my heart to recover?"

Setting his clipboard down, Zayne turns towards the other man, "Fortunately, the side effects of the heart attack are light enough that it should only take a maximum of 3 weeks to fully heal, provided that you don't exert yourself beyond walking and climbing up stairs.”

He begins turning away upon finishing his sentence, thinking his assessment would prove satisfactory, but then his patient's distressed voice fills the room.

"WH-- Three weeks?! That's such a long time! How am I supposed to get ready for my dance performance if I can't even practice for three whole weeks???" Y/n exclaims with his hands on his head.

Feeling frustrated, Zayne turns back towards his patient, "First, I said a MAXIMUM of three weeks. Meaning there's a possibility that you'll be healed before then. Second, I fail to comprehend your obsession with something as frivolous as dancing."

With an offended gasp, the other man quickly goes on the offensive, "Ex-CUSE me, doctor, but A) it's my JOB to make this performance look good and B) have you NEVER experienced the magic of a well-executed dance performance? I can't deprive that of the people who paid money to see it!"

"I have not, nor do I have any interest in such things." Zayne replies bluntly while going back to writing his notes.

"Tch, I'll bet you're fun at parties, Dr. Killjoy." The other man says with puffed-out cheeks, causing the doctor's hand to stumble slightly.

"Killjoy...?" Zayne says as the lead on his pencil snaps.

"You heard me. There's not a drop of whimsy or wonder in that soul of yours, is there?" Y/n says while crossing his arms at him.

"Hmph, and you think watching a dance performance could give me this 'whimsy' you're so fond of?" Zayne asks while brushing the lead pieces off his clipboard dismissively.

"I do, actually." Y/n says while puffing out his chest, "Once my heart's recovered, you can come to my performance, gain a new perspective on life and tell me your thoughts afterwards!"

"You say that like I'd take the time out of my busy schedule for that in the first place." Zayne responds curtly.

"Aww, is someone afwaid of twying something new?" The other man says mockingly.

Not one to be looked down on, Zayne relents, "Very well. I'll go along with this little delusion of yours, if only to prove that such things don't have as much influence as you seem to think."

"Heh, it's a date, then." The man says triumphantly.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

So, it seems like eyes may be one of the most important organs for Gallifreyans. Does this impact the optometry and ophthalmology fields significantly, or are they pretty much the same as on Earth?

How does Gallifreyan ophthalmology work?

The layman might be forgiven for thinking the hearts of a Gallifreyan are obviously the most important part of their biology, but while yeah, they're pretty important, Gallifreyan eyes are definitely high on the list.

Their eyes are essential to their culture and technology, and any problems can be very disabling. So, while we don't actually know that much about Gallifreyan medical care (honest to God, if I had one script for Big Finish ...), we can definitely figure out a few things.

🏥 A Different Kind of Eye Care

Gallifreyan medical science is obviously light years ahead of Earth. Treatments can heal skin wounds in under half an hour, and regrow limbs from a single spit sample in just two days. But when it comes to eyes, things get a bit trickier. Gallifreyan eyes are critical to their day-to-day existence—without them, a Gallifreyan is at a significant disadvantage.

This logically makes ophthalmology one of the most specialised and crucial medical fields. It's not just about fixing vision; it's about maintaining an integral part of a Gallifreyan’s ability to interact with the world and even identify themselves. Without their eyes, Gallifreyans would be unable to use advanced technologies and could face a complete disconnect from their homeworld.

🔬 Eye'll Be Seeing You

Gallifreyan vision goes above and beyond human abilities—they can see a wider range of colours, in much greater detail, and even perceive minute details from far distances. They also have topographical sensitivity, allowing them to detect distortions in space and time. This superior vision makes their eyes crucial to their cognitive function and daily Time Lord-y life.

While minor visual issues, like short-sightedness or long-sightedness, are easily corrected with glasses, more serious problems are far more complex to address. Given how important their eyes are for everything from personal identification to using advanced technology, any injury to the eyes should be taken extremely seriously. This means that the field of ophthalmology would likely include highly specialised techniques to manage and treat these critical conditions.

💡 Specialised Care and Advanced Technology

Gallifreyan medical technology would be equipped with cutting-edge devices and surgical techniques designed to help restore sight. Unlike Earth technology, these devices could involve advanced cybernetic implants or nanotechnology, allowing near-perfect visual restoration.

In addition to conventional treatments, there would likely be offshoots within the field. For example, telepathic specialists might work with blind Gallifreyans to help establish a psychic bond with a specially trained creature (yes, kind of like a guide dog - it's a thing on Gallifrey too).

Another interesting angle could involve the use of genetically engineered tissue or cellular regeneration to replace damaged or lost parts of the eye. This approach would focus on restoring the natural function of the eye rather than relying on external devices, aligning more closely with the Gallifreyan focus on regeneration and internal healing processes.

🏫 So ...

The medical field surrounding Gallifreyan eyes is likely highly specialised and stretches out into several areas, including telepathy. While their ophthalmology probably isn't exactly like Earth's, it likely shares similar goals in terms of maintaining vision and treating injuries, but with a much more advanced technological edge.

Related:

💬|👁️🦮Do Gallifreyans use a Braille-like system for the visually impaired?: If Gallifreyan Braille exists, and how it could work.

🤔|👁️🦮How do Gallifreyans cope with extreme vision loss?

💬|👁️✨Could a Time Lord be deaf or mute after regeneration?: Sensory impairments from regenerations and how society could perceive these people.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[twstfanblog]

LMAO jack is worried about the wrong thing! A period≠heat but ovulation=heat

Also, in theory, couldn't Yuu just ask for maternity pads? After people give birth hospitals usually give them huge pads so that they can heal without worrying about staining their clothes and bed with blood. Although I can see why they don't get those because 1) all boys school kinda makes people forget those exist 2) that would attract attention cause what do you mean a staff member at NRC is buying maternity pads monthly??? 3) Crowley probably doesn't know, and while that's mostly a good thing, it can also mean that they can't bring stuff that could tie to pregnancy on school grounds on a regular basis without some permission

Lowkey, the biology difference Period Drama brings to light can be so annoying to deal with because it always calls into question what else it effects. The reason Twist girls dont get periods is that instead of removing the lining altogether, their internal magic just refreshs it to it's former state. Which more than likely will extend to what happens after birth. And if it didnt, again, Magic. They can just heal things very easily with spells and potions in a hospital setting. So more than likely maternal pads don't exist past an actual sheet they put down for the birth that's then removed after they heal the mother up.

I made this idea for a reason based purely on the idea that periods dont happen in Twist because MAGIC. It's a lot of world building potential for a world that always had magic as an alternative to common problems plus how that would change things as an evolution standpoint.

Im guessing you're coming from the period drama romance series. But yeah they are flying blind a lot and will make their own wrong assumptions on how the period actually works. As much as Jack knows, you get your period because you aren't pregnant -> its probably to make you more likely to have children to avoid this painful process -> this is a really kinda fucked up heat.

Im not stating the things im writing in this series as facts, not until the Ignihyde part where Idia and Yuu really deep dive because Idia needs to properly update her medical file and to do so he needs to actually understand what the fuck is happening and he doesn't trust Yuu's second hand knowledge.

Peace and love. This feels charged the more I read it over, but I really just mean it as a way to explain the way my world building shaped up from this one silly idea.

[batbusiness-schooldropout]

Fun(ish) story time!

So I had to get an MRI recently and the me one I had (12 years ago. I was a minor btw) didn't go well. I freaked out and apparently tried to run away

(I don't remember anything after them telling me that my heart rate was too high and that I needed to calm down so I can neither confirm or deny these accusations)

Anyway apparently this means that my medical records show that I have claustrophobia. And every step of the way I go "I don't have claustrophobia, I actually enjoy small spaces, I don't know why I freaked out last time" and everyone I talk to says "take this Valium. Just in case."

Cool. Let me take a med that I've never had before and don't know how it will react with my other meds rather than trust that I've matured in 12 years and might possibly not react the same way.

But then my friend pointed out that since I don't know why I freaked out the first time, I don't know if I'll freak out again.

So I take the Valium. Which, for better or worse, didn't do much besides make it hard to focus.

MRI time. After one more round of anxiety inducing 50 questions, and one more round of "says here, you have claustrophobia" "I don't have claustrophobia, I don't know why I freaked out last time" we get into the MRI room, which has had a major cosmetic change since I was last in there

Instead of everything being an unsettling off-white and, for lack of a better word, clinical it has a black ceiling with a galaxy vinyl on the lights, the windows are much bigger, the machine has several blue accents. Much better vibe overall. Current theory is that the vibes 12 years were atrocious, and I, as a connoisseur of only the finest vibes, could not handle it.

So we're doing great for the first half, no problems, not so much as an itchy nose, almost took a nap, in fact. Then, they get me out of the tube to put the contrast dye in me.

Claustrophobic I am not. I am, however, scared shitless of needles.

But that's no trouble we all knew about that before we got here, if you kind gentleman would just help get this contraption off my face so I can stretch. Oh I can't stretch. I have to stay completely still. So the photos match up. So I have to stay still while you poke me with a needle that I can't see.

This. This is what the Valium was for.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook:

Dont Play With Your Food

In which darkness drowns out the light again, and history repeats itself.

Tags/Warnings: HEAVY angst, Black Panther Hybrid!Jungkook, Bunny!Reader, hybrid trafficking, trauma, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

A/N: You all always want angst. Here you have angst.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Bad dreams haunt you to this day.

You're stuck between other shivering hybrids, some young and some older, most crying or quietly whimpering to themselves- you included. It's dark, the steel of the trailer you've been tossed into together with the others rattling loudly with the movement of the truck driving somewhere you're not sure of. Everything smells like fear, so much so that it's making you almost nauseous.

You're desperately closing your eyes, pulling your ears down, but you don't wake up like you usually do. No- pulling your ears actually hurts. When you open your eyes, the scene is still going.

You're not dreaming.

So how did you get here?

It all happened so quickly. You've been slowly coming out of your shell more and more these days, an entire year after living with both Namjoon and Jungkook giving you the needed confidence and comfort to try and become more brave. So when Seokjin couldn't take on your regular checkup appointment, you didn't really have any problem going to a different doctor. Namjoon and Jungkook dropped you off at the Seoul Central Hybrid's medical center, promised to pick you up- but then, something went wrong, you name maybe got mixed up with someone else's? You're not entirely sure. All you know is that someone came to pick you up, yes- but it wasn't your owner, nor your mate, and in your still slightly tired out state from the local anesthetics, you couldn't really voice out the mistake to anybody.

And now, you're here. With no idea where you're going.

You don't know how long you've been in here- you know you've dozed off here and there because of absolute exhaustion, so at this point, there's no clear telling what exactly is happening around you. You're cold now, shivering horribly, even with all the other hybrids around you trying to include you in sharing warmth. There's a skinny penguin hybrid near you who pitifully tries to scoot closer- but he can't really seem to move his own body any longer either, survival instinct keeping him from getting any closer to you. The crying had also become more or less quiet and soft, most younger hybrids by now too exhausted to really complain vocally anymore.

You're hungry. Incredibly thirsty. You feel like dying.

Until the container doors open, and you're blinded, and too weak to really attempt at fighting back. You just let them pull you out by your leg, before you pass out into a dreamless sleep yet again- to awake back in a cage, back underground, history repeating itself again it feels like.

And back home, it's absolute chaos.

Namjoon has taken an emergency vacation from work and is currently talking to police for the second day in a row now- agitated that the search efforts lead nowhere it seems. You've vanished- no one wants to take accountability, neither the medical center nor the staff management there, and he also can't forget about the currently raging panther hybrid he still needs to take care of. Jungkook is pretty much ready to tear the house apart- he's more than just nervous, constantly jumpy at every noise, can't sit still, can't think clearly.

He keeps carrying your stuff around; clothes you've worn, stuffed animals you've scented, just to have at least a trace of you around at all times. He knows bothering Namjoon every second of the day isn't helping, so he tries to keep himself quiet. But he still can't help but listen in on small conversations his owner has here and there.

"What do you mean you can't do anything now?!" Namjoon barks into the telephone. "No, I realize that it's difficult, but- No, there has to be a way, try and contact them then!" He aggressively responds to someone on the line. "I.. alright. It's not like I can do anything else- yes, I will. Thank you." He sighs out, before he slaps his phone onto the kitchen counter, head falling into his hands.

He knows Jungkook is standing behind him. He can see him in the blurry reflection of the fridge, holding a green lizard plushy in his hand- one of your favorites, because it's soft, and it used to be Jungkooks in the first place before he gave it to you. "Did they find her?" He asks quietly, and Namjoon has to clear his throat to attempt speaking clearly.

"They found her collar in an empty container in Nagoya. The container had no valid identification, so it's assumed she's… been.. illegally shipped to japan for underground trading." Namjoon explains, waiting for his hybrid to say something- but he doesn't. So he says out loud what he doesn't want to hear himself. "They said right now, they can't proceed with any investigations. They have to.. send out requests, get permits for something- I don't know." He sighs.

"So she's gone." Jungkook silently states.

"She's not gone- we'll get her back." Namjoon promises, as he turns around; seeing his hybrid standing defeated clearly now, eyes dull and already swimming with emotions.

And instead of saying anything, Jungkook just.. leaves the room, and crawls underneath your blankets in your safety cage;

Surrounding himself with what's left of you for as long as it's still there.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Medcember 2024 Day 4

Adrenaline

Summary: Modern AU. After a camping trip has gone horribly wrong, Astrid fights the medical team that wants to treat her. All she wants is to see Hiccup.

Warnings: Blood, Hospital, non-consensual drug use

Rating: Mature

Dead Dove: No

Words: 556

Prompt: Sedation

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Astrid

Whumpee: Astrid

Whumper: /

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Author’s Notes: Thought it was time to whump Astrid again. (Because I definitely didn't do that yesterday.)

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

The last thing Astrid wants is to be sedated.

"Please, ma'am! Calm down, we're only trying to help!" The doctor in charge of her tries to tell her, but she's not listening.

"I don't need help! I drove us here!" The young woman argues as she tries to fight her way off the bed they put her on. She’s trying to pull her arms free, legs kicking because she’s afraid somebody will grab them, too. She refuses to lose.

"You're bleeding, please let us take care of you!"

"I don't care, I need to see my husband!" The husband she drove through every red light to get here after a simple camping trip went horribly wrong.

They’ve had them hundreds of times, the two of them loving to be out together in nature. Just them and no one and nothing else. Never before has anything ever gone wrong.

They were out in the woods, far away from civilization, to celebrate their anniversary. Some ignorant family was agitating a "cute and friendly" dragon that was actually showing signs of aggression. And Hiccup, her dear problem-solving husband and local dragon expert, tried to get involved and de-escalate the situation. Instead the family escalated it even further by yelling at him to mind his own business and the dragon, a Gronckle, attacked in retaliation.

It was like trying to pet a bear. They may look like oversized pugs, but they aren't dogs. They're dragons and he proved himself as one that day.

As a matter of fact, even strange dogs shouldn't be trusted! Astrid blames the internet. Just because it claims that Gronckles are the friendliest of all dragon species, doesn't mean they won't maul well-meaning husbands because someone decided that approaching grizzly bear-sized dragons was a very good idea.

"Please, ma'am. If you don't calm yourself, I'll be forced to use chemical restraints," the doctor tells her again as she and her team of nurses try to stop her from leaving.

It's not that Astrid came out of the skirmish unscathed. She knows of the deep clawmarks in her arms that are bleeding profusely, she got them by wrapping her arms around Hiccup in an effort to pull him out of harm's way. He would've been gutted if she hadn't.

But she didn't feel any of her injuries as she carried him all the way back to the parking lot. Didn't feel them as she put him in the backseat of their car and tried to make him wear a seatbelt as best as she could. Didn't feel them as she drove him to the hospital, wiping furiously at her eyes so her vision didn't blur as she sped down the road. Fighting her wannabe medical team, she can still hardly feel them.

"Hiccup needs me!" It's when she almost hits a nurse in the face, though entirely without intending to, that a needle with a sedative is brought forth. Astrid can feel the puncture, can feel the burn of the liquid being pushed inside of her and for a moment there's panic before it quickly begins to work.

In her last moments of wakefullness, her thoughts are with her husband and her last image of him. Hiccup covered from head to toe in blood, unconscious, and wheeled off in a bed to the first available operating room.

[dinoburger]

whenever I do try to pick up threads of the main TF2 comics I feel there's just so many loose threads, emotional beats that weren't built up enough to feel meaningful to me or characters without interesting dynamics I feel part of the problem might be that it was trying to do too much.

Really one point is that it seems like it wants to be a goofy, light-hearted adventure but also serious and climatic and also introduce a swathe of new characters to elaborate on the background of the mercs - Heavy, Sniper but also somewhat Saxton with Mags, Gray with Olivia.

I suppose the logic is if there's already a set "character" the mercenaries have that can't be tampered with, only adding in new ones can make for any worthwhile shifts in dynamics, except those dynamics often also come across as shallow because they still only relate to very static characters.

tbh I think that's probably one thing I never really liked with Soldier and Zhanna as a couple, she's just someone for him to do more stupid funny antics with. Pauling is someone for her to have the most uninspired female jealousy dynamic with. Heavy’s sisters exist for him to be protective over. Sniper’s family is the most roundabout, contrived way of showing the parents that raised him are still the parents that matter the most to him.

Medic’s goofy ass deus ex machina moment was there instead of him actually being able to, idk, use the medigun or have any kind of climatic moment with Heavy.

The TFCs are written as sadistic the make our mercenaries seem better by comparison.

All the fake-outs where characters die and go to heaven feels tropey in the way that the fictional Christian canon afterlife is often used to forcefully invoke a bittersweet "dont worry they're alright now!!" kind of feeling. I've never been a fan of it tbh.

It feels more like a string of shorts that were stuck together than one story, the kind that in isolation you're alright with maybe not having every character fleshed out but they're still entertaining, but instead it has a kind of meandering quality to it.

I missed this point a little but like. The racism especially pertaining to Australia also feels in part like what happens when you make an entire country and its peoples the punchline of a mean-spirited joke. Australia is kind of a macguffin, it's a weird place nobody knows about, white American ignorance being the status quo and any weird thing outside of it being the joke.

It couldn't possibly have been anything else in a wirting philosophy that has no interest in building a world that takes itself seriously.

Really I think having the Admin's mystery be the central point and being able to build around that, or the supernatural element of that, would've worked a lot better. As it is, we don't really know much of anything about the Administrator at all or anything that happened to bring her into the position of power she had or any parallel threads. I would've liked a story that plays more with these goofy characters in this context of a historical fiction with supernatural elements than a story that seems to have a kind of disdain and contempt for anything of the sort.

[transmutationisms]

Very interested to hear your thoughts on Yellowjackets in light of your cannibalism post

i honestly feel like i was like, themes-baited into watching yellowjackets. i did make it through the first season because i was led to believe there would be certain payoffs and they just never arrived lol.

like, obviously the present-day storyline with taissa is implicitly built off the idea that cannibalism is a threat to her political career specifically because it's coded as an uncivilised act, and her being black (and gay) plays in here. basically her career is threatened by the implication that she's feral, her appetite is out of control, etc. but the show never does anything with this, never interrogates this discourse, and seems (in season 1 at least) to actually be operating fully within this white/colonial paradigm insofar as taissa killing the dog and eating dirt are meant to signal her instability and 'wildness.' (as a side-note, dirt-eating specifically was historically configured as a 'slave disease' in the atlantic world, and the writers seem wholly unaware of this or at least unwilling to engage with it; you can read more about it in rana hogarth's 2017 book "medicalizing blackness".)

i can understand conceptually why people care about shauna/jackie but i simply don't lol. based on where the first season left them i assume shauna is about to eat jackie or something. they are not an interesting pair to me, cannibalism-wise, largely because i think they basically function as a shock-value use of cannibalism as a symbol. like, it really comes across as "holy shit, look at these respectable white girls who are engaging in acts of uncivilised savagery." i find this a problem for the entire show actually, and it is certainly true to its "lord of the flies" inspiration in that sense. but whereas william golding was explicitly engaging with ideas of what it means to be 'civilised' and inverting ballantyne's "the coral island" by portraying the boys themselves as the source of evil, yellowjackets seems largely unaware of such intellectual and cultural context, and seems to want to interrogate cannibalism as an expression of Girlhood without admitting that this invocation of cannibalism is very much a discourse of whiteness and how racialisation works.

besides all that, i simply did not think it was a very good tv show dfgdgfdgf as in, the dialogue is limp, the pacing is whack, the cult/evangelism shit is annoying and unnecessary, and the different storylines are poorly integrated. there are economic reasons tv tends to be bad and i would be willing to overlook mechanical problems if the show was About Something, but it's really not, imo, because it gets stuck on a voyeuristic interest in Girls Debasing Themselves and doesn't even go anywhere with that theme.

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Ficfinder finds: The Lemonade Leak

Chapter 21: The Monster

Chapter 21 Summary: No Summary

The Monster: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is only available to those who have an Ao3 profile. This fanfic is written by @turtleinsoup, so go show them some love and support!!

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Plot is three out of five!! This chapter feels somewhat like a lull. Like the calm before the storm. This chapter is chock full of information, and story important plot!! Though it may not be as intense, it’s certainly captivating!!”

Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Suspense/Mystery is five out of five!! This chapter has loads of mystery in it!! The amount of things going on is like a slap to the face!! Sudden, confusing, and strange!”

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Angst/Hurt is three out of five!! This chapter has a very different flavor of angst than the previous ones. Lots of confusion, like floundering or drowning in uncertainty.”

Fluff/Comfort: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is two out of five! This chapter has no fluff whatsoever, and minimal comfort. Though, it’s less of comforting comfort, and more of the comfort of knowing some things might turn out ok.”

Emotions Conveyed: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is one out of five!! I feel like this chapter really hinged less on the emotional side, and much more on the knowledge and story side. So much info was dropped in one chapter!”

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Drama/Tension Level is five out of five!! This chapter actually has a lot of drama and tension! It’s got medical drama, and tension with Leo. This chapter has loads of info in it, and none of it is calm or lighthearted info, causing a lot of drama.”

Triggers: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Triggers for this chapter are four out of five. As stated earlier, this chapter has a lot of medical drama! The author notes warn for Loss of Limbs, Medical Gore, and Child Abuse.”

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Legibility (Reading) is four out of five!! Incredibly captivating read!! This chapter was incredibly fun to read!! However, it has a lot of medical terms, which can be hard for some people to read or pronounce.”

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Audio) is five out of five!! As this chapter has a high amount of medical terms in it, I found it enjoyable to listen to, as then the terms were pronounced, better to be understood ^^”

Length: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Length is four out of five!! Chapter 21 of The Lemonade Leak takes about 41-42 minutes to listen to!!"

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

Next Chapter ->

<- Previous

The Lemonade Leak: Story Ratings and Chapter List

Personal thoughts on chapter below cut (Contains Spoilers)

This chapter has such a uniquely different feel than the others!! Like a new story all together. Definitely interesting!! Especially as this chapter is from Draxum’s POV which has only happened a few other times.

Two stumbled but kept talking like he wasn’t. “Rayas, tell the docs I want structural and functional MRIs of the new parasites. No unnecessary chems before we have all scans.” He patted the Tiger’s arm as he passed him, “I want two of your men to stay on guard in case the bodies make problems. I don’t mind who, as long as it’s not Alopex again, juro que la vi masticando su máscara médica.”

To translate, Leo said “I swear I saw her chewing on her medical mask.” Which I find rather hilarious. 

A new kind of grin unfurled on the boy’s face. It caught the light in white teeth, bright in the dark, as if the very night herself recoiled from it. “No. But I’ll make sure you can try, pa-pi-to. Soon enough.” Draxum’s stomach turned for a reason he couldn’t place.

This has got to be the smartest, cleverest, most manipulative Leo I’ve ever seen. Heather becoming less and less of a person, a human being, and more like a machine driven by a task, a goal, a purpose. Leo, as Draxum built him, is a weapon, and he’s going through and executing his actions to get to his purpose. 

I don’t have many little things to say about this chapter, mostly because everything is going by so fast. I seriously can’t praise this fanfic enough, it’s so expertly written!! I love the shift in tone as the story progresses!! I think, one of the things I love the most, is how incredibly detailed each individual each POV is. The story isn’t just being viewed through a different set of eyes, but being told by an entirely different person. Each POV feels like switching fanfics!! I really enjoyed the medical setting in this chapter, and seeing how Draxum sees it. It’s fun imagining what this would look like through Mikey’s POV, or Leo’s or Donnie’s even. I love how much effort has gone into writing each POV so uniquely!!

[radiojamming]

Asking pretty please for info on your courier if you don't mind!!! Did you go with a specific build or play her a certain way?

Also any backstory you wish to share I will eat that right up, I just love the courier x coop fic you wrote!

YES OH GOSH YES SO

She goes by Lizzie Holliday or Doc Holliday and her tag skills are medicine, science, and speech. I generally play her as a well-meaning but chaotic field doctor who ends up wandering into Plot Situations.

Here's some [chef kiss] art of her by @jara257/@jaradraws for reference:

Some backstory is that her actual name is Adelita Espinosa and she was born in New Mexico. Her father was a traveling doctor and her mother was a scientist studying radiation mitigation in crops and irrigation. Her mother died of radiation poisoning when Lizzie was very young, so she doesn't remember her well. After that, she traveled with her father and learned all of her medical know-how from him.

After Dr. Espinosa died of natural causes, Lizzie moved on to find her place in the Wasteland. Kind of like a gap year. Maaaaybe she wanted to be a doctor? Or a scientist like her mom? But just like a gap year student, she needed an interim job to make ends meet and took the courier job. Cue FNV plot.

So Lizzie doesn't really think she has a head for politickin', but she ends up making decent choices in like a crapshoot way. Or like someone rolling a D20 and rolling very high every time, even when she doesn't want to. New Vegas ends up in her lap, and her whole decision to rule it is just because she thinks everyone else vying for it sucks. In her mind, she's just a placeholder for someone better at bureaucracy who doesn't suck. The only problem is that's, like, everybody. So she's still there.

And fun facts!

She's incredibly pansexual, and after her head wound, she's really leaned into a whole 'life is short, people are hot' lifestyle, except 'people' sometimes includes robots. And light switches.

She collects pencils because she runs out of them all the time.

Her favorite foods are snack cakes, cazador honey, and roasted pinyon nuts.

When she doesn't live in Vegas (which she tries not to), she's either in Goodsprings or wandering around with Raul.

After the events of FNV, she gets two pet nightstalkers named Gertie and Jose.

Her hobbies including playing guitar, sketching, embroidery (to practice her stitching work!), swimming, and practicing her golf swing. She doesn't understand how golf works and she doesn't want to, but there's something very fun about launching golf balls at unsuspecting fiends and Legion boys.

Her favorite weapon is Paciencia.

In her canon route, she's the one who botches Caesar's brain surgery. Whoops. :)

That said, she also canonically talks Lanius out of attacking and does the same to get Vulpes to leave (or does he?).

(She and Vulpes have a Thing. I never said she had a good sense of self-preservation.)

She takes her role as one of The Kings very seriously and has perfected her hip sway and 'uh-huuuuh's.

The most in love she's ever been is with Dr. 8 from Big MT.

Her dream fate is to get ghoulified so she and Raul can hang out forever and maybe she can go visit the REPCONN ghouls in space.

Realistically, she'd also like to live at Nellis with the Boomers until the end of her days. It sounds much more fun to her than ruling New Vegas.

She'd be so into Cooper Howard that it'd make her bonkers. She'd draw little hearts around his name in notebooks.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

The bigger issue with my eyes, more than the incredible dryness that's kind of on and off depending on what my immune system is doing, is that my eyes have always been like highly abnormally light sensitive.

And I mean like, my pupils barely manage to be 3mm -at most- ever, even in very low light conditions where a normal pupil size would be 4-8mm... In any lighting conditions people would think of as normal my eyes don't budge from 1-2 mm at most.

Most people experiencing that wouldn't be able to see right because something other than actual light sensitivity is usually the culprit meaning your eyes can't let in enough light to see right, but for me it IS the light sensitivity causing it. I actually see really well in really low light... Like -as in- monochromatic but still very present vision from a single indicator light or a charged glow stone kind of good low light vision... Like no eye strain or problems seeing colours or details in what would be considered 'low light'. When people see me sitting in a light level that actually doesn't hurt my eyes, they start telling me I am going to 'strain my eyes' that way and then turn on a light that's entirely blinding to me and will give me a migraine.

But sun is utterly fucking blinding.

Just like, you know how when you stare into a bright light directly and you get that opaque wash of colour over your vision that you can't see through? That you have to wait to go away? Well imagine that from just being outside on a sunny day even if you aren't looking up. Now imagine your eyes will not adjust to it.

I cannot see outside unless I am looking at the ground and my eyes are shaded. I navigate mostly by sound tbh.

I wear uv 400 goggles sometimes but with glasses that dark if drivers see you still not being able to see very well, they think at you and get really mean like they think you are blinding yourself with your fashion choices instead of being legitimately blind either way. They're actually nicer if you act like you can't see but aren't wearing sunglasses. I haven't tried glasses that are obviously a medical device yet, but that's because I am not diagnosed with anything.

I end up just walking around super extra unable to see because at least then I am not getting aggressively honked at for standing close to the road or for crossing when I am supposed to??

It's been this way my whole life.

I probably count as very much legally blind the moment sun is involved because I cannot adjust to the light level. I have refused to get my license in part due to this because it isn't fucking safe.

It's not because my pupils don't shrink or react, they do, they're just ALREADY as fucking tiny as they get and can't get any smaller. If it was from my pupils not reacting then I would know the fucking cause!

It's not an illness/infection, it isn't drugs, it isn't from any temporary condition or medication or any of the usual culprits or causes... My eyes are just really fucking light sensitive and every time I try to look up how normal this is or potential causes I get nowhere.

I get 'uveitis' as in swelling in the eye as the best suggestion... But it's not like it ever goes away or calms down if I take anti-inflammatories or if my immune system chills out some... I'm not even sure it's uveitis, it seems to be GENUINE light sensitivity.

No article anywhere seems to think this level of miosis can be normal from simple light sensitivity. Everything that talks about people who's pupils don't dilate normally also talks about it making it hard to see in low light and I assure you I do not have the problem! It's very much the opposite!

And it isn't like my pupils aren't reacting to light levels or emotions either, because they are! Both evenly, and you can see it if you look real close, it's just a tiny reaction instead of the big obvious dilation most people's pupils do. I can do this trick where if I stand in front of a mirror and think of something I -like- I can see my pupils start to dilate a fraction, and then I get a stabbing pain in my eye from the extra light it just let in and they get small again, lol.

I can tell when my pupils have been dilating at someone imperceptibly because I start to get a fucking headache when I look at them. [I like you, it pains me]

And it isn't like they physically can't, technically, because I did have one episode where pressure on the circulation behind one eye made me wake up with one pupil fucking giant one day. I got it to go away by blowing my nose and rubbing firmly at my eye and it's been fine long term... But the muscles in my eye are there and physically capable of dilating my pupil if they feel the need to... They simply never seem to feel the need to.

It's also been better since I have been less stressed because now I can get my pupils to dilate up to a whole 3mm in really low light and with enough thinking of the right things... I can get my eyes to look almost normal, for someone in normal lighting conditions, in low light. But that's it!

I HAVE known other people with eyes as light in colour as mine and they have run the full range of normal right up to stupidly big pupil sizes so I don't buy that it's inherent to my eye colour.

I mostly have to tell you what they look like in normal light second hand because I can't actually see very well in normal light and I don't have my bathroom lit that way.

But visually the impact -apparently- is that my eyes constantly look like I am highly stressed and/or super in pain and/or not having any kind of emotional reaction to anything. People describe my eyes as looking 'cold' 'intense' or 'crazy', and you can bet my social experience is impacted by people never being able to tell when my pupils are dilating or when I am fond of someone or something by what my eyes are doing. Big pupils signal -consciously and unconsciously- to other people that you care! And my eyes aren't capable of doing that! My eyes never look "warm" or give an impression of warmth to people. Even when I am paying rapt attention to someone I love!

I can only imagine what today's pop psychology on social media has to say about people with chronically small pupils!

And I have never known -why- except that it might exist at some intersection of immune system related swelling and maybe connective tissue problems, inherited mutation and maybe the nerve sensitivity that comes commonly with autism???

And any time I look for answers it's like trying to get an answer about the red flames [also a circulation/ blood vessel thing I think???]. No one knows what the fuck I am talking about, and the more you specify the more you sound off your rocker and start getting results about fictional shit.

No eye exam has ever given me answers either, because other than being really extra nearsighted in sunlight, it doesn't much impact anything they test for. They're shining a bright light in your eye so they expect your pupils to be small, and they react normally-ish if you are expecting them to mostly stay small!

It does occasionally have people assume I am on drugs. It does do that. Because my pupils are super tiny and won't get bigger. [It does make it extra absurd anyone thinks the red eyes are from pot though because pot is known to make your pupils big, I don't think it does that to mine from my limited experience and I can't test it more due to allergies, but please at least assume it's harder drugs than that, look at my pupils dummy! (I do not do any drugs, again, for the record, I actually have some allergic type reactions to opiates??)]

My eyes just make me look like I am on heroin all on their own all the time, due to seemingly legit light sensitivity and nothing I can find says this is normal for some people.

I guess I am wondering if it's one of those autism nerve connective tissue things that's actually really common and just never discussed formally? Like I know a lot of us think the big overhead light is evil, but that's because it's too bright, right???

I can't get any more answers out of medical articles, is anyone else experiencing this?

Like I can try to address the dryness all I want to, but tbh my eyes are only for looking at artwork from up close while I am working on it alone, and for reading... And nothing has ever helped them be less dry, and any treatment I try has to -not- do something like cause issues for other existing eye conditions or circulatory or inflammation problems in the eyes, because I functionally have so much else going on with them whether it's diagnosed or not. And if something goes wrong I can guarantee you that no doctor will be of very much help, because they just don't fucking know what's going on with my eyes and aren't interested in figuring it out.

[sonicasura]

Oh Tiny is defently giving that walker the stink eye, given he has no idea what it really is for. And he really hates the damage Kafka's body really is in. While during the cocoon stage helped the small kaiju managed tp fix the worse of it, theres still a lot to take care of.

With the bones being the second worse thing to fix, the brain an even more pain. Replacing the inner oragans like lungs or the intestines is no issue. Neither is taking away any extra organs not needed. Kafka don't need a tiny third lung near his left kidney after all.

Bones though? Thats where Tiny needs to be creative and careful. He first has to kill any nerves near the bone and flesh to avoid Kafka being in pain while he fixs it, the small kajiu not wanting to cause Kafka any more pain unless its unavoidable. And he was forced to actually destroy all of Kafka's hip bone to actually fix the walking issue properly.

You can imagine how everyone reacted the next day as they saw Kafka tried to move around by using his hands only. The legs not moving whatsoever anymore. Noone liked seeing the missing hip bone after Mina got the scanner to check what was going. It took Tiny a few weeks to grow it back, wanting to make sure that nothing went wrong and only needed to replace it once.

Battles being the exception. Tiny knows better then to expect any damage will be light. Especially with how Kafka is like with lossing limbs with almost every fight.

And you'd mention before that Kafka most look pretty scary when he walks on twos. Yeah he does, his a 5 meter kaiju demon looking fella after all. The seven blade tails not helping. What does help though is that when Kafka walks on two leg, the tails go for the most part slack and looks more like those long half skirts that opens in the front. At least when he is not in attack mode. Then the tails reminds many of how scorpions pose their stinger.

And speaking of the tails. They have a nasty gimmick when Kafka uses that electricity power of his, those blades heats up like crazy and causes quite the damage to anything the blades touch. They also acts as conduits, which means that should a blade be stuck inside a enemie they'll get electrocuted when Kafka hurls his electricity at them.

Something No 10 learned the hard way when he attacked the third base. Boy was that battle maniac in for a fight when both Kafka and Soshiro tag teaming him. Well, after Kafka had helped deal with those preondactyl kaijus on Soshiro's order. A order Kafka has no problems doing, knowing fully how strong his friend and vice-captain is.

Beside, his more parental side is not happy seeing all the rookies being in huge trouble. And deep inside he is very glad his mom is in another city visiting a friend. He does not want her anywhere near the base at the moment.

He of course still tells the others about the preondactyl's weak points and strenghts. Which helps a lot when dealing with it on their own when Kafka has to go and help Soshiro after 10 goes titan sized. The himbo would later tell he kinda felt like david fighting against goliath given how much bigger 10 was compared to him.

Tiny would give a stink eye to most medical equipment, lol. I have this funny image of someone showing Kafka a slideshow on these items just so the little kaiju inside doesn't try to break them. Best to take the initiative first.

Also the evil bastard in me had the thought of Tiny just forgoing both legs and having his host move around like the Mexican Mole Lizard. That or other weird alternatives until the new legs are fully ready to deploy. Like having the tails act like temporary legs.

Kafka would be a menace throughout the raid. Soshiro had to bat No. 10 with the metaphorical stick so his kaiju companion could handle the pterodactyls. Also a bigger target means more places to strike.