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gummadianjani · 2 years ago

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Are You Searching for Pediatric Immunologist in Hyderabad?

Throughout history, scientists have been successful in developing drugs that treat specific diseases. But they have yet to create an adequate substitute for a healthy immune system - a replacement that most likely does not exist.

We used to think illnesses were linked mainly to infectious agents. Throughout medical advances and the improvement of living standards, scientists have used all kinds of chemical drugs to inhibit the spread of viruses and bacterial agents. In today's world, we are facing a new kind of health challenge: illnesses related to our modern diets such as heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, and cancer. When faced with these degenerative diseases, we realize the importance of prevention through balanced diets.

Even though "Nutrition" and "Immunology" were once two separate disciplines, today we realize the importance of combining the two sciences for the improvement of our immune systems. Imbalanced diets, unhealthy living habits and insufficient health knowledge are all causes of suppressed immune function. Without a properly functioning immune system, we cannot face the microbial, health hazards of daily life.

Simply searching for cures is no longer enough to combat disease; prevention is the key to greater health; and nutritional immunology can provide the knowledge to obtain it. According to nutritional immunology, when the body is deprived of essential nutrients, the immune system is weakened and loses its ability to defend itself against illness. However, when functioning properly, the immune system has the ability to combat disease and illness; and even overcome the constant attacks of environmental pollutants and toxins.

According to the science of nutritional immunology, plant foods such as fruits, vegetables, and herbs provide a rich source of nutrients that the body needs. In fact, the phytochemicals found in plants are believed to prevent dietary fat from promoting tutors, inhibit the growth of microbes and improve blood lipids and cholesterol levels. The American Cancer Society maintains that nutrition is a significant player in preventing cancer deaths.

Living in this new millennium and facing different health hazards on a daily basis help us see that continuing research and education are important to bring health to the world. All things considered it is just when we have great wellbeing that life really starts.

A lot of people don't mind adequately with respect to how their bodies work. While they feel fine or that they do not get sick that much, they do not appear to have trouble providing themselves with the sort of info they should have in store. Almost everyone would only fret about their jobs and other routines without realizing that they're already taking their health for granted, and even abusing it. But do not you know that the more fit you are the more productive you become? You even get to live a longer and more satisfying life.

It's likely for a person to only worry about his health the moment he's mixed up in some form of illness. And before he will be able to do anything, it's already too late. Folks would usually ignore things that aren't immediately influencing them. But you see, learning what your body can and should do so you can live the kind of life that you've always wanted is never that troublesome. All that it takes is time as well as the determination to understand what you have got to.

When it comes to your total well-being, everything should start with your immune system. If you'd like to keep a fit body or enhance a weaker one, then you should be capable of understanding what your immunological system does and the way the many things you do can affect everything related to it.

Our immune system is so potent that it can keep us healthy or defended from a good range of diseases, and it can also be the reason we have a tendency to get sick. However, the power of the immunological reaction varies from one person to another. Its functionality will somehow rely on your own actions such as your dieting habits as well as other considerations like pollution, inborn deficiencies, and many more. That's why some people simply become ill while others hardly catch a cold.

There is some folk who can maintain a robust immunological system without even working up a sweat or stretching their wallet. They're those people who constantly keep an eye on their diet and lifestyle; in short, they are the informed and vigilant ones. There are those whose lives rely on how well they can keep their immune reaction working as they should. Either they're those people who are, since birth, puny enough to battle against the various invaders of the body or those who were not able to keep their ultimate defines in a good shape.

The immune reaction consists of cells and organs that work together in order to form a balanced network that will protect your body from loads of threats. It blocks 'unwelcomed beings', hunts down attackers, and kills them totally. While your system is working well, the method never stops; unless you die. The immune system also has the power to memorize the features of various microorganisms which have just infiltrated the body. So next time it attempts to enter and harm your body, it already knows how to address it.

If you have sufficient antibodies, then your body can effectively exterminate the various unusual or foreign cells which are trying to trigger assorted diseases. If your body functions the way it routinely should, then it can produce the needed weapons towards warding off common illnesses like colds or flu as well as shield you from even more significant and lethal sicknesses such as cancer. Yes, that's how dynamic and trustworthy your system is.

You are giving bacteria, viruses, and other harmful particles the opportunity to take over your body if you have an immune system deficiency and yet you did not take immediate action. Though you can find lots of reasons for a weakening immune mechanism, the most typical culprit is the lack of enough suitable nutrient elements in your body wanted to keep your entire system going. You can dump the blame on your unhealthy lifestyle, bad eating habits, and exposure to various sources of additional damage such as cigarettes, pesticides, and other harmful substances.

What is the point of your immunological system attempting to protect your body from the various sources of injuries, allergies, and sicknesses if you are actually the one initiating the destruction of your health? Know what can injure your immune response and then try your best to avoid them. Be aware of what your body needs to function in a way by which it can run smoothly no matter how tricky and determined the germs are. Consult your doctor on the nutrients that you might need. You can get them through the food and beverage you consume or have your way towards vitamin supplements or the supposed immune system boosters. Change your lifestyle if you do have a horrible one.

Keep away from stress. It is the number one obvious reason why folk tends to easily become ill. When you're stressed, your body secretes substances that affect your immune system. Sleep well, eat a healthy diet together with help from the right vitamin supplements, be stress-free and exercise well so you can avoid any deficiency in your immune system.

Are You Searching for Pediatric Immunologist in Hyderabad?

Due to the poor function of the immune system in tackling infections, severe bacterial, viral, or fungal infections occur If your child’s system is not working right, he may suffer from frequent, recurrent, severe, and/or uncommon infections like fever, sinusitis, otitis, pneumonia, diarrhoea, pus collection, abscess infection of the lung, and fungus infection within the mouth, rash, eczema or failure to thrive.

If your child suffers from recurrent infections or other problems together with the immune system, a Pediatric immunologist has special skills to diagnose immune defects and treat your child.

So, as a Parent, if you observe any quite the above symptoms in your Child and Searching for Pediatric Immunologist in Hyderabad or the Best Immunologist in Hyderabad then you are at the right place, book your Appointment with our Expert Pediatric Doctor Dr. Anjani Gummadi, who is a specialist in Immunology from prestigious institute PGIMER.

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#pediatric immunologist in hyderabad #Best Immunologist in Hyderabad

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demonicheadcanons · 4 years ago

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What the Demon Brothers Are Like When Sick

AN: MC is gender-neutral as always. Some of these skirt the line between being platonic and romantic - I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep things platonic so that more people could enjoy this, or if I should write as if you’re already in a relationship with the brothers, so its a bit of a mess. I hope you enjoy ^^

Lucifer

If you’re not close, you won’t see him. He’s going to hole himself up in his room for a day to get better as quickly as possible. Also he feels like getting ill can be seen as a weakness, so he’d prefer for people not to see him whilst he’s in that state.

He gets sick often enough - he works hard for long hours and doesn’t get much sleep. However he’s also good at just, pretending he isn’t? His focus may be a little off, and he might be quiet or more lenient towards the other brothers because he doesn’t have the energy to scold them for hours on end, but these will be the only signs something isn’t right.

If you are close, he’ll still be wary about letting you know. Again, he doesn’t want to be seen as weak; it’d hurt his pride.

On top of this, he also worries that it might be contagious, and humans are much weaker than demons - if he’s struggling with something, it would absolutely outright kill a human. If its a disease that a human can get, his door is locked and you’re not getting near him no matter what.

Note: he is the only brother other than Satan that even considers this, and so if any of the brothers are sick in a way that could be contagious for humans, it’s him setting boundaries so that you won’t get sick.

When he does trust you enough, he’ll insist on laying with his head in your lap. He’ll tell you that having you run your fingers through his hair helps relieve the headache - it’s partially the truth, at least.

Enjoys being taken care of for once, instead of having to take care of others, but the chances of him admitting it are low. He’s self-sufficient and he doesn’t need anyone to look after him. But it’s still nice, and he’ll completely melt and stop putting up any defence if you kiss him, even if its on the cheek or forehead. He doesn’t feel like he has to fight things that make him happy right now.

Hold a glass of water or a cup of tea up for him and he’ll look straight at you as he sips at it, examining your expression and making sure you’re alright. If you seem to be stressed or upset, he’ll make you leave or cuddle up to him.

Won’t let you do any work for him - he’s a perfectionist and doesn’t trust anyone except Diavolo and maybe Barbatos to work to the same standards as him (*cough* and maybe Satan, if he’s really inspired). However, when he’s recovering and can work again, he’ll ask for your company; you can sit beside him, sit in his lap, even just lay in his bed whilst he works at his desk. Whatever you prefer. All that matters is that he has you nearby.

Will take you out to dinner or shopping as a thank you for helping him.

Mammon

If you’re not close (which, to be honest, would only happen if you don’t like him, because he likes anyone who’s nice to him) then you’ll see him complaining in the group chat and that’s... pretty much it. Sticks to his room until he’s better if he doesn’t feel like you’d take care of him.

If you are close, you can bet he’ll blow up your phone with calls and messages to come look after him for a bit, or to bring him this and that - water, painkillers, blankets, pillows, wipes so he feels less gross. Anything at all that can make him feel better, and that will make you have to stop by his room.

Mostly he just wants someone around because he feels lonely often anyway, but it gets unbearable when he’s ill. Before you were around, he’d push himself to keep going about his day so that he wouldn’t have to be alone.

Run a hand through his hair and help gently wipe his face and he’ll melt. He’s bright red and insistent that he doesn’t need some stupid human’s help, but he’ll shut up quickly if you continue to pat his head or hold his hand.

“Fine. Since you’re so desperate to be around The Great Mammon, I guess I’ll let you stay.” Yeah no, his grip is so tight on your hand that you’re not getting away anyway.

Recovers surprisingly quickly, and doesn’t get sick that often. However, he will insist that he’s better before he actually is, because he gets bored laying about doing nothing - he’s a busy guy, he has money to make and so on. You’ll have to force him to stay in bed for a bit longer even when he’s absolutely sure he’s better, because he really isn’t.

This will stop happening if you give him a lot of attention when he’s sick - he’s a sucker for affection. Cuddle up to him and he’ll stay in bed for as long as you think he should to get better. Honestly it isn’t even fully necessary - he hates seeing you upset or worried, so if you plead for him to take better care of himself he might actually consider trying.

Delirious rambling is common for him. He’ll be half asleep and look up at you and just tell you anything that comes to mind. This is as open as he gets about his feelings, and he might complain to you or tell you about this thing he saw when he was out that kind of reminded him of you, or about that one time when Lucifer did something embarrassing when they were still angels. Despite being too loose-lipped to keep short-term secrets, he’s not a gossip and so this is the only time he’ll tell you about any of the other brother’s personal matters. Please don’t tattle on him - he really was just out of it and didn’t mean to do anything bad.

He cries easily normally, and it gets worse when he’s sick - if you’re watching shows with him whilst he recovers, he’s going to be blubbering over anything even slightly sad or happy. Make sure you have a box of tissues and some treats that won’t make him feel too sick to cheer him up.

He’s going to ask for help with catching up on school work when he’s better, but he’ll repay you in any way you ask him so long as it doesn’t involve much grimm being spent. Maths tutoring is a big one - he hates doing work, but he’s really good at maths canonically. Essentially, if you’ll do his other subjects for him, he’ll do your maths homework for you. You’ll probably end up doing more work, but you get to spend even more time for him if that makes up for anything?

Additional note: Mammon is the only brother who Lucifer will give you time off school to take care of. This is because he knows Mammon won’t want to be alone and will probably stress out so much that he’ll end up worse off. It means he has a way of monitoring Mammon without having to be around him, and he doesn’t have to worry. This won’t be the reason he gives you - he’ll act like its a problem that you’re missing classes and will imply that he’s only just barely allowing it, but will give you permission at the end of the day because “well, it will keep him out of my hair at least.”

Leviathan

Like Mammon, if you’re not close you just won’t hear from him. He can get quite irritable when he’s sick, and holes himself up in his room so he doesn’t have to deal with anyone. Honestly no one will know he’s sick unless he misses school and Lucifer orders someone to check up on him, because nothing much changes except that he messages the group chat less.

He acts a bit like Belphie when he’s sick, and sleeps through most of it cuddled up to his Ruri-Chan body pillow, with TSL on in the background as a grounding comfort.

He doesn’t get sick often. His immune system isn’t the best, because he never goes out. At the same time, because he tends to avoid people anyway, the likelihood of him catching anything is low.

If you are close, not much will be different - you’ll have to seek him out to notice he’s sick, or he’ll tell you in the context of asking you to set a show to record or go to a store for a special promotion involving something he’s interested in. He doesn’t really look for any comfort, but the closer you two are, the more upset he’ll be because now he knows what its like to be close to someone and it makes him miss it.

Won’t initiate anything, but he’s less flustered about physical affection because he’s just so tired. He still blushes when you so much as hug him, but he won’t protest or put himself down, he just holds on as tight as he can manage and nuzzles as close to you as possible. He likes sitting like that for as long as you’re comfortable.

He’s disturbingly quiet compared to when he’s healthy. He can tolerate headaches because he’s used to them from staring at screens constantly, but the second he has a fever or feels nauseous he’s silent. You can try to prompt him but he’ll get out a small amount of info and then just, pout and frown off into the distance because he doesn’t feel good and he hates it. He prefers for you to talk to him at these times, in a calm and level enough voice - especially if you talk about something that you’re very passionate about.

Levi is bad at taking care of himself at the best of times, but when he’s sick he’s surprisingly obedient. If you ask him to drink some water or try and eat something, he will. He needs the reminders but once they’re there he’ll follow them pretty well. Without them he’s going to spend the entire time in his bathtub bed. If he’s really, really sick, he’s going to take out all the pillows and fill it with water and he’ll sleep off the sickness in his demon form with his head underwater. He’ll only do this if left alone, though.

If you sit or lay beside him when he’s laying down, he’ll alternate between holding your hands and playing with them. He’s too tired to be nervous and it really calms him down. If you remind him when he’s better he’s going to turn bright red and stammer out something about how “of course you wouldn’t want a gross otaku like me to hold your hand.” However, the memories, as fuzzy as they may be, make him happy and if you two are napping together even when he’s not sick any more, he’ll still play with your hands once he believes you’re asleep.

Once he’s better, he’ll catch up on schoolwork quickly be himself - he wants to get it out of the way as soon as possible so that he can catch up on all the shows and games he missed. You won’t see him for a day or two as he catches up on everything unless you ask to spend time with him, and he gets really flustered and happy because you already spent a lot of time together and you still want to be around him?

Overall, he’s pretty self-sufficient compared to most of the other brothers, because he’s used to spending time by himself and being sick doesn’t completely uproot his life. Alongside Lucifer, he’s also the most likely to get you a gift to thank you for sticking by him. If you were looking for anything, he’ll have ordered it before starting to catch up on his school work.

Note: He’s silent almost the entire time he’s sick, but at least once a day for as long as it lasts he’ll open his eyes and stare up at you and groggily mumble about if you could please feed Henry, the fish flakes are over on his desk, thanks. Also, you’ll hear him all you by your actual name the most when he’s sick because he forgets to call you a normie.

Satan

If you’re not close, like with the others you really just won’t hear from him. He’s going to be following whatever advice he found in books to get better as quickly as possible, or he’ll buy a potion if there’s one that will help. If nothing is helping, he’s going to be confined to his room because he’s in a constant bad mood and doesn’t have a good handle on his anger.

Even if you are close, he’ll ask to be left alone whilst he’s recovering because he knows he might snap and say or do something that he’ll regret. The only time he’ll willingly let you be around him is if he knows he isn’t contagious, and if he’s too weak to do anything. Its a rarity like no other, because it involves so much trust in both you and himself. If you force yourself into his room and insist on taking care of him anyway, he’s not going to say a word because he’ll be too focused on keeping himself under control.

He essentially becomes like a cat that is constantly fighting the urge to claw at your hands. Be slow and gentle around him, and keep your voice low. If you can get close enough to pat his head or let him curl up with his head in your lap, then you’re safe. However, if you’re loud or knock over his books he will quite literally growl at you, teeth-bared, and you’re going to want to get out of the room as soon as possible.

Once you manage to get close to him, keep a hand on his head and read quietly to him and he’ll pass out pretty quickly. He prefers for you to read fairy tales at times like this over anything else.

If you’re like this and another brother is loud outside of the room or bursts into the room he’s going to be furious. He’ll grip your wrist - possibly tight enough that it’ll leave a faint bruise - to keep you in place and glare at them until they back off, or just glare at the door until the noise stops. You’re pretty much trapped with him unless you can somehow figure out how to get up without waking him up, and if he wakes up and you’re gone you’re going to be hard-pressed trying to get him to let you get close again.

He’s going to be embarrassed once he recovers, and it really is best just to not bring any of it up again. After the first time he gets sick, he will seek you out if you were able to get close and you took good care of him - he’ll text you to bring water and painkillers to his room because he’s sick, and after that he’ll ask you to read to him again. He seems more normal each time, but make no mistake - if anyone else tries to be around him they won’t get away unscathed.

Satan really goes from one of the most reasonable brothers to acting very much like a demon, or like some kind of animal fighting to appear human.

When he’s better, he’ll thank you for helping him. If you don’t seem to be scared of him even after seeing him in that state, he’ll stick a little closer to you in future. He doesn’t try to repay you in any specific way, but he will help you out in little ways over time. If you don’t help him whilst he’s sick, he’s going to be understanding, but if you decided to help him and then ended up afraid of him he’ll be frustrated because he warned you and you ignored it.

Asmodeus

Unless you really seem to not like him, he’s going to act similar whether you two are close or not; he’s complaining in the groupchat about being sick and about how awful his screen feels right now and so on. This will continue until you either take it upon yourself to go take care of him, or Lucifer sets up a rota where everyone has to go spend some time with him so Asmo will stop blowing up his phone.

Asmo doesn’t seem to change much when he’s sick, but he’ll have moments where he lays quietly and stares up at the ceiling because he’s overthinking something or he feels alone and hates it. He needs to be distracted constantly - paint his nails, or help him wash and moisturise his face, or tell him whatever silly stuff his brothers have been up to lately and he’ll brighten up a bit.

If he’s sweaty or feels like he looks even slightly less beautiful than normal, he’ll try to hide his face beneath a pillow at times because if you’re going to think about him, he’d rather not have you remember what he looks like right now, even if he’s still the most attractive person in the three realms. Enough compliments will draw him out but he may make a few inappropriate remarks in response.

Overall he acts similar to how he normally is, with a little more complaining and a slight cut down on his more suggestive comments. He’ll want to be pampered and taken care of and will make his wants known, but once you’re there with him he’s able to stay calm about the entire thing unless it goes on for too long and he feels like it’s going to take time and effort to get himself looking as good as he usually does again.

If you’re very close, and he’s realising that he has genuine feelings, then he’s going to have brief periods where he’s vert soft with you - he’ll ask you to lay down beside him and he’ll hold your face in his hands and whisper to you, being honest about how he feels and telling you what he likes about you, and asking you questions about yourself and about how you feel about him. He gets a little teary-eyed at these times because he’s really happy that you’re there with him even when he’s not in top shape.

The absolutely worst with food when he’s sick. He’s picky and he’ll turn his nose up at almost everything. If it has a smell it’s making him nauseous, but if it doesn’t have any taste at all he’s going to refuse to eat it because if he wanted his food to be bland he’d go ask Solomon to cook for him. Asmo is most at risk of making himself more sick by only eating sweeter foods because they’re all he can tolerate.

He’s a healthy person generally - he takes good care of himself, it’s a huge priority of his. He doesn’t get sick often but he takes longer to recover than most of the other brothers, and it really frustrates him.

Overall, just stay close to him and help him take care of himself in whatever way you can and he’ll be alright. This is probably the safest time to be around him, because he’s not in the mood to try anything when one of the participating parties is sick, whether it be you or him. When he gets better, though, he’s going to be very suggestive for a while because he insists he’s running on a deficit and needs attention.

He won’t necessarily reward you or thank you directly for helping him - I mean, you got to spend all that extra time around him, and that was a treat in and of itself even if he was sick the entire time - but he’ll invite you over for face masks and will paint your nails and offer to give you a nice massage. Essentially, whatever you’re down to do, he’s also down for once he’s better and is able to have a nice bath and fully wash away all traces of the illness.

Beelzebub

If you’re not close, you’ll know he’s sick because there’s suddenly a lot more food around than there was before with him not around to eat it, and Belphie is complaining about how his stomach hurts because Beel is sick. Beel, himself, will stick to only complaining to Belphie in their room, or he’ll ask Lucifer to find a way to help him feel better. Whilst doctors will be called for all brothers if their condition seems serious, its incredibly likely that one will be called for Beel immediately no matter what.

If you are close, you’re going to be stuck by his side the entire time he’s unwell unless you really have something to do and Belphie agrees to spend the time with Beel instead. He really doesn’t want to be alone, and he’ll cling to anyone who comes near him. If you’re uncomfortable with physical affection you’d be best avoiding him whilst he’s sick.

Otherwise, Beel will wrap you up in his arms and cuddle with you, holding you as close as he can. He’s going to be wary of not hurting you, and he’s essentially a furnace when he’s not well so he’ll release his grip slightly if you seem to be overheating (Belphie sets up a fan so it stops being as much of a problem, thankfully). If he’s really sick and can’t focus, you’ll have to remind him if he’s holding you too tight or you’re starting to overheat because he won’t stop himself from holding you as close as physically possible and essentially wrapping himself around you like a koala bear.

Beel isn’t one for words irregardless of how he’s feeling, but you can hear him making a quiet whining noise in his throat every now and then if you listen carefully - when he’s really distressed, the sound is near constant and sounds like flies buzzing. Being sick is one of the worst things ever to him, and he can never get used to it because it’s such an uncommon state for him. He’s a healthy guy generally, as he’s sporty and active and takes good care of himself. He’s usually fairly immune to most illnesses.

Nothing really makes him feel that much better except for you to stay close by. He appreciates small gestures - gentle kisses on his cheeks or hands, words of comfort, and humming to him will calm him down enough that he might be able to sleep it off.

One good day of rest and he’ll be back on his feet, better than ever and ready to eat everything in the kitchen. If you cook for him or with him? He’s in love. Even if you don’t, he’s still going to insist that he has at least one arm around you at all times, and if you’re comfortable with it he’ll probably take to carrying you around with him half the time when he’s recovering - its his own way of saying thank you and that he appreciates what you do for him.

He won’t do anything special otherwise to thank you. However, because he and Belphie both tend to get sick at the same time, if you tend to both of them he’ll definitely try to repay you in some way. Usually this just involves giving you some kind of snack when he’s filling up again. If he knows there’s something you really like to eat, he’ll sneak out when you’re sleeping and get some for the two of you, as well as something for Belphie.

Belphegor

If you’re not close you’ll still know he’s sick because he’ll be trying to help Beel feel better first before he focuses on himself, and he’ll be grumbling the whole time. He’s angry and he’s not going to put up with anything, and the second Beel’s asleep he’s not leaving their room, or he’s locking himself up in the attic and sleeping until he’s better. No one except Beel and Lucifer dares to go near him when he’s like this - even then, Lucifer only checks up on him if he really needs something, or to make sure Belphie is okay because he’s the youngest brother and Luci very occasionally babies him.

If you are close, much like Beel you’re going to have to avoid him if you don’t want to spend the next few days cuddled up with him. He tends to be sick for longer, and if you’re not careful he’ll try to get you to spend the entire time in the attic, wrapped up in his arms.

He’s the only one who will end up in his demon form for the majority of the time he’s ill even if you’re around, for a variety of reasons; he doesn’t have the energy to maintain his more human-like form, he’s too frustrated and doesn’t care enough, etc. Also he finds it comforting to wrap his tail around you in some way if you’re okay with it so you won’t leave when he’s napping.

Belphie won’t admit to it, but the worst thing you can do when he’s sick is leave and not be back before he wakes up. Similarly to Satan, it upsets him to the point where he’ll get angry and refuse to let you back into the room, but he can be convinced fairly easily or bribed with the offer of letting him sleep with his head in your lap, with you running your hands through his hair.

As mentioned before for Beel, the two often get sick at the same time. Belphegor will be less clingy if you’re also taking care of Beel, and ten times more grateful. He won’t let you go for anything, but the second you mention that you need to check up on Beel too he’s already released his grip and he’s grumbling about how you better come back as soon as possible.

When he gets better, he doesn’t really see a need to thank you or anything - not because he’s ungrateful, but because you two are close and he’d take care of you if you were sick too. He sees it as a normal and expected thing. If he was snappy with you, he’ll apologise indirectly, but otherwise he doesn’t say anything about it. If you did end up taking care of both him and Beel he’ll pat you on the head and probably offer to let you rest with your head in his lap for once.

AN: Thanks for reading! If its highly requested I’ll do this for the Undateables too. In the meantime, I plan to write about how the brothers take care of MC when they’re sick.

#om headcanons #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #my writing #i hope the read more appears okay so that people can tell there's more than just luci's ;u;

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iwannawritelots · 2 years ago

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Original work crossover fic :”3

Some context:

I’ve already assigned Solomon’s magic to someone in the actual story, but no magic is special to a single individual that bears it. Asmodeus’ magic is the same as their charm ability in game kinda (their magic would fall under “mind-altering magic” in my universe). How strong someone’s magic is will vary from person to person due to multiple factors (including training themself to use it properly). In the world, physical magic comes from certain “release points” on a magic-born; Solomon’s are his hands. For this fic’s purposes, MC’s release points are on the shoulders, arms, and upper back. Magic-borns that have non-physical magic, like Asmodeus in this fic, utilize weapons that have other magicians’ magic within it to defend themselves. ALSO magic-born individuals have weaker bodies than non-magic-born people (immune system, bodily strength, etc).

Solomon is a magician who makes whatever he touches poisonous to others. He’s transmasculine here and has a gender-affirmation ring that utilizes a shape shifting magician’s magic. (I have 4 characters in the actual story who have this kind of ring, one of which is mentioned here: Emanuela.)

Asmodeus is a vampire that can charm others. They have a gender-affirmation ring as well, being genderfluid (it works differently than Solomon’s for this reason). They also have a ring to protect them from Solomon’s magic, so they are the only one who can touch Solomon’s hands.

MC is a magician with heat/fire magic.

(The way I’ve structured things, magic-born is the minority in every race [human, faery, merperson, etc], except vampires are always magic-born— as well as the smallest race.) Solomon and Asmodeus have a vampire-magician marriage, meaning they each have a tattoo on their neck of the other’s name. If they were to have a third person in their marriage, the individual’s name would also be added to their necks. This is mostly to signify to any vampires besides Asmodeus that Solomon is not to be fed from. (Vampires don’t see it as ownership, but cultures outside theirs think of it as such.)

LASTLY, a lot of the world building is still being done, which is making writing the actual story itself difficult. No perspective is meant to be completely black and white within the actual story.

Mentioned characters from the actual universe: (former princess of the empire, wife of the queen of vampires) Emanuela, Zeta (daughter of the queen of vampires)

onto the crossover -3-

Asmodeus trailed behind MC and Solomon, listening quietly to their surroundings as they all walked. They were hunting for non-vampire appropriate food, which was frankly more frustrating than it should have been. Animals were scarce due to the conflict between the vampires and the empire, which was making non-vampires irritable. If Asmodeus didn’t know any better, they would have tricked a few magicians into turning just to ease the food supply demand. Although they knew it was wrong, most of what was stopping them was the fact that Lady Emanuela would no doubt catch on— since they shared the same vein of magic and she wouldn’t be affected by any of their tricks— then turn them in to her wife, the queen of vampires.

Solomon stalled his tracks and turned to gaze at Asmodeus. “My love, maybe we should turn around. There doesn’t seem to be anything in this area.” He fumbled with his gender-affirmation ring, unsure how Asmodeus would react. It wasn’t as if they weren’t equals, but he still felt weird speaking as such. “I haven’t even seen wild berries…”

Humming in agreement, Asmodeus adjusted the hood on their head. Despite the overcast, even a sliver of sunlight would still give them a nasty burn, and the war was prioritizing soldiers; no sun-deflecting salves were left in the city. “You’re right, Solomon. Unless MC has any reason for us to continue this area, we should go somewhere else.”

“Won’t we get in trouble if we leave our area?”

“This isn’t the empire, MC.” Asmodeus huffed and fiddled with their cloak once more, attempting to make the wrinkles more aesthetically pleasing. “We have to find one of Zeta’s animals and tell them what’s going on.”

Before anyone could say another word, an arrow shot into the small of Asmodeus’ back, making them cry out in pain. Solomon quickly grabbed them and shielded them behind himself, words failing to leave his mouth. MC had frozen in place, but their flames erupted from their shoulders and back due to the adrenaline. “Who’s there?” demanded Solomon finally, taking a glove off of his spare hand with his teeth. “Show yourself!”

There was only silence in response. Asmodeus squirmed out of his hold, reaching behind themself and snapping the arrow in half to reduce chances of it snagging during an inevitable fight. They could ignore it for the moment (there was no choice anyways). “You know they won’t. We have to find them ourselves, and kill them.”

“What if this is a trap?” MC asked quietly, glancing at the two before double checking their fire-resistant clothes were unscathed from their scare.

A plethora of arrows mockingly shot near the trio’s feet. The attackers were either missing on purpose or poorly taught. “Even if it is, we cannot allow them to find the city.” Asmodeus felt a bit lightheaded, and the weakness of a magic-born’s body was prominent with the arrow snuggly in their intestines. They swallowed hard, then reached for their pepper-box style gun, the reality of the situation hitting them. “The arrows are coming from that direction. Let’s go.”

Despite the sharp pain from the injury Asmodeus bore, they carefully lead Solomon and MC towards the source of the arrows. Solomon grabbed some rocks from the ground, feeling the poison he created within them instantly. Then MC spotted one of the shooters in a tree just above them. Without a second thought, they released their flames and willed them towards the shooter with a swing of their arm, setting the human ablaze, as well as the tree.

The action escalated the situation, causing the other shooters to graze Solomon’s ear and puncture Asmodeus’ bicep. A scream ripped from their throat as they quickly located an attacker and shot a death bullet directly into their skull. None of them were close enough to charm, and part of Asmodeus wondered if they knew this.

Solomon, overtaken with fear, reflexively threw his rocks in the direction of several attackers, poisoning them and causing them to scream out in pain. He glanced towards MC, who was burning a few of the attackers to death, then to Asmodeus. They were blinking out tears with each shot to a pursuer’s forehead. Promising himself that Asmodeus wouldn’t be hurt further, Solomon raced to an attacker and grabbed them by the throat, a strained shriek leaving them as his poison took over. Once he knew they would die, he hurried to the next person, then the next.

By the time they had killed all the attackers, Asmodeus was seeing white, collapsed on the ground. “Asmodeus!” Solomon hurried over to kneel at his spouse’s side, horrified at their condition. The cloak had flown off, so their skin was burning, and the arrows were stubbornly lodged into them. The one Asmodeus had snapped in half earlier was much deeper than the other, and Solomon felt his stomach twist. “Asmodeus, can you hear me?” he spoke gently, laying a hand on Asmodeus’ head. The vampire whimpered to him, and he carefully pulled them into his arms. He reached for the cloak and used it to shield them from the sunlight once more. “MC?” Solomon called out, feeling tears pricking his eyes.

The magician hurried over, bag of different looted items in one hand, and a magic-infused weapon in the other. “I was inspecting their belongings. Is Asmodeus okay?”

“I-I don’t know…” Solomon snapped the intact arrow in half, then discarded the remnants in a nearby bush. “Have you seen any of Zeta’s animals?”

“No.” MC sighed, squatting down to Solomon and Asmodeus’ level. “I found some stolen magic goods in their supplies. If I keep looking, there might be something to heal them or ease the pain.”

Solomon shook his head, then stood, holding Asmodeus close to his chest. “No, they probably have garlic-infused balms and edibles. We’ll have to wait until we return to the city.” He glanced around, then gazed at Asmodeus’ cloaked form when he felt their fingertips dig into his collarbone. “Did you inspect most of them?”

“All but the ones you killed.”

“There wasn’t much on them, but we should double check in case they have any information.” Solomon led MC back to the people he defended them from, keeping alert in case there was anyone else as they sifted through the dead’s belongings. “Anything?”

MC shrugged. “Only a couple letters to their families, a few stolen magical items, and one of them had the order to search for the city.” Solomon frowned, adjusting Asmodeus slightly before leading MC back towards the city. The two didn’t speak for a long while, mostly because they were both occupied by making it back without further issues. “Is… the healer in the city?”

“I don’t know. They’re probably not.” Solomon didn’t dare take his eyes away from his surroundings. “This war is making our city suffer. None of our usual hunters are home, none of our healers are home, there aren’t any sunlight-deflecting salves for everyday use, we’re low on food and blood…”

MC nodded, picking up the pace when they spotted the city walls. “Let’s hope Asmodeus will be alright.”

“Yes… let’s hope…”

#original work crossover #iwannawritelots #violence cw #violence tw

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years ago

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Deteriorate

Sort of late entry for the final day of @fire-siblings-week. The free day prompt.

Summary: Azula is immunocompromised and Zuko takes care of her.

She is sick again. It isn’t bad, just a cold, but it is her third one this winter and she seems to be growing weaker with each fight. He is certain that this won’t be her last fight either. Her immune system is already insufficient and the more she gets sick the weaker her immune system becomes. And the weaker her immune system becomes the more she gets sick. Zuko sits himself down at the foot of her bed and holds out a bowl of soup.

“Thanks, Zuzu.” She mumbles. Her voice is hoarse and scratchy from coughing. Frankly he can’t remember the last time that her voice sounded like silk. He is beginning to think that this steady flow of illness has torn her voice to irreparable shreds. She is probably lucky to be speaking at all. He guesses that by the end of the week her voice will be lost again.

She coughs again several times, it is dry and breathy for now. Zuko swallows, usually it gets worse. Usually her coughs will go from dry and persistent to violent and with a lower sound. The sort of cough that sounds painful, that sounds like it is ripping the throat up.

Azula picks up the spoon, her motions are slow and lethargic. A sweep of unkept hair falls into her face. “Water?”

“Iroh’s going to bring some tea up.”

Azula nods and sets the soup aside.

“No!” Zuko says abruptly and forces the bowl back into her hands. “You have to finish that.”

“Zuko, I’m not…”

“Finish it.” He insists. He ignores the cross look and the folding of her arms. She is getting thinner, her cheeks are noticeably hollwer. He can’t imagine that malnourishment is helping her any. She only seems to stare into the bowl. “Please finish it.” He tries.

“I don’t want to, Zuko.”

“Aren’t you hungry at all?”

She shakes her head.

“Really? Because you look…”

“Like hell? Like I’m dying?” She asks. “Trust me, it isn’t just a look.” She presses her lips into a thin line and turns her head away from him. He thinks that unshed tears are prickling behind her eyes, he can’t imagine any other reason for her to look away.

“Azula.”

“I’m dying and that soup isn’t going to keep me alive.” She spits. She grips at her bedsheets and softly repeats, “I’m dying.”

He finds himself repeating his old matra all the way back to his room, “Azula always lies. Azula always lies.” She is going to be fine. She’s just being melodramatic. Just wants attention and pampering. Her face appears in his mind as he stares at the ceiling; dark circles under her eyes stand out starkly against the pallor of her skin. “Azula always lies, Azula always lies…” and in his nightmares, Azula always dies.

Usually when she does, the imagery is horrific. Sometimes she hemorrhages from within and bleeds from the ears and nose. She coughs it up and at the very end she cries blood that refuses to clot. In other variations she clutches her stomach and vomits until she falls over. And on some nights, her hair falls out in clumps and her body withers away to just stretched skin and bones.

Her coughs echo down the hallway and enter his sleeping mind. They are a regular part of the night noise. Some of the night staff have quit because of it, claiming that it was haunting and disturbing to listen to their princess deteriorate like that.

Zuko sheds a few tears. He remembers when she wasn’t like this. She was so powerful. So unstoppable. So intimidating. He hated her and he spent every day of his life wishing that the world would take her down. That it would strip her of her power and give him his moment.

He has it now and he wishes that he can take back years of wishes before they take his sister. It is not his fault, he tries to remind himself. It is Ozai’s fault. It always is. Her immune system began to fail after prolonged exposure to the chemicals and vapors that wafted from those tanks and airships. From all of those war machines that he gifted to her and coerced her to interact with.

When he comes to visit her the next morning Azula is bunched up under the blankets and she is still. Very still. “Azula?” She doesn’t so much as stir. He steps closer, his stomach queasy. “Azula?” Motionless. He takes another step, his breath catching in his throat. He puts a hand on her bicep and she jerks. He jolts too but it is accompanied by a shot of relief.

“What are you doing, Zuzu?”

“I thought… you didn’t answer me.”

“I was sleeping. I need sleep.” She looks thoroughly exhausted. More so than the night before. “I have trouble sleeping so when I fall asleep…” She sighs. “Thanks a lot, Zuzu.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles. He looks at her dresser. “You finished your soup.”

“Uncle is more convincing than you.” She nuzzles her head against her pillow. Her nose is red from constant rubbing and he notices that her cheeks are now flushed with fever, another notable contrast to the rest of her pallor.

“Are you feeling any better?”

She holds up her hands and indicates with her fingers just how insignificantly small her relief is.

“You just have to hold out until the flu season is over, okay?”

“What do you think I’m trying to do, Zuko?”

“Look, I’m just saying that if you don’t get better then I’m going to beat you at every Agni Kai from here on out so I suggest that you…”

“I suggest that you stop saying things that you’ll regret when I’m not…” she falls into another coughing fit, but it is a suitable substitute for whatever she was about to say. The fit goes on long enough for him to grow uncomfortable. He puts his hand on her back and helps her take a drink of water.

She hunches over as he withdraws the cup and gives a few final coughs. He continues rubbing her back as she takes a deep breath and looks up at him with dismal eyes. He swallows, his heart pangs. “You’re going to be fine, Azula. You always are.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He lowers her back to the pillow. “Uncle is going to join us for breakfast.”

“That’s fine.” She pauses. “I’m going to…” She pats the pillow beneath her head.

“Yeah.” He gives her a half smile. “You get some rest. And get better because I expect an ass kicking when you do.”

#Azula #Zuko #Fire Siblings Week #Avatar The Last Airbender #Fire Siblings #Fanfiction

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megalony · 5 years ago

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Help me, Doctor- Part 4

This is the final part of my Doctor! Ben Hardy series, I hope you have all enjoyed reading this series.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms

Series taglist: @blog-hannahnicole

Summary: (Y/n) is referred to Ben when her other doctors don’t know what’s wrong with her. Ben is one of the best doctors to treat her… but the problem is that he already knows (Y/n) and has slept with her before.

Part 3

Ben Hardy masterlist

Enjoy.

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"What's happening?" Gwilym darted his eyes around the room as he walked inside with Joe following closely behind him.

Both of them had felt anxiety rattling through them when Ben paged them to say they had to come down to (Y/n)'s room immediately. When Ben admitted her into the hospital they both tried to help Ben in coming up with any kind of diagnosis that could help. All three of them had done tests and scoured through every medical textbook they had but nothing seemed to come to light and (Y/n) was undoubtedly getting worse.

Her symptoms were coming and going but they were having a bad effect on her and it seemed to be speeding up. There were no months in between symptoms where (Y/n) seemed to go into remission, she was going into a downhill relapse and no one knew why and they couldn't stop it.

Ben couldn't give (Y/n) any antibiotics or medication because he didn't know what she had. If he gave her a treatment for something she didn't have he could make her body weaker and he could damage her brain if he treated what she didn't have. He couldn't play with her life and take a risk of treating her for something he thought it was because he had no proof that this was what it was and without evidence, it was just speculation.

All Ben had been able to do was give (Y/n) antipsychotic medication to try and relieve her sudden schizophrenia and it had thankfully worked. Within three days (Y/n) wasn't hearing the whispers and voices surrounding her like she had done before. But with the voices disappearing, another symptom took its place and Ben couldn't stop it.

"I don't know what to do."

Ben turned to face his two colleagues with tears welling in his eyes causing them both to feel startled. Ben was not one to cry and he was not one to show his emotions around them, much less at work. They both knew (Y/n) was special to him and they knew her case was rattling Ben's cage like never before but they were now realising that he was at breaking point now.

Before Joe or Gwilym had the chance to ask Ben what had happened he beckoned them further into the room to come and see (Y/n).

Ben took a seat on the edge of the bed next to her, watching as her eyes seemed to soften but he could still see the worry swirling around in her pupils. He wished things would have been different. He wished that they had continued to see each other and had gotten together because they had been seeing one another rather than because he had become her doctor. Ben wished their relationship had had a normal start as opposed to becoming closer as he tried to find out what was wrong with her.

He wished that he didn't feel like a failure because he couldn't find a diagnosis for her.

"Sweetheart, lift your arms up for me." Ben motioned with his hands for her to stretch her arms out towards him like she had done moments before he paged the boys.

Both Joe and Gwilym stood at the end of the bed to see clearly what was concerning Ben but they didn't know how to respond. (Y/n) tried her hardest to do as Ben had asked but her limbs were shaking and when she stretched her arms out in front of her and tried to lift them, she could only just raise them off the bed. They trembled far too much and after two seconds she had to lower them to her sides again.

Leaning over, Ben pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head before he stood up and walked over to the boys. One hand rested on his hip as his other hand brushed over his mouth and jaw, a motion that showed he was getting anxious.

"She's losing motor function, fast. I tried to help her up with a nurse but she can't stand and she can't move her arms... she can't even speak, she's becoming locked in." Ben brushed the stray tear from his eye as he swallowed harshly. He had noticed a few days ago that (Y/n) couldn't move as easily as before and he and the nurses had tried doing arm and leg exercises with her but it hadn't worked.

This morning when he and a nurse eased (Y/n) from the bed and to her feet, she couldn't place her feet firmly on the floor. Her feet caved and twisted the wrong way and she had no ability to place them flat on the ground or hold up her own weight. Her legs weren't moving much at all either and now her arms were losing their ability to function.

Ben had had to sit and cradle (Y/n) like she was a child during the night because she couldn't speak and the shock had caused her to have some kind of panic attack. She could murmur and try to make noises but her throat and voice box couldn't function properly to convert the noise into words and it was terrifying (Y/n) to no end. She was losing her functions in the blink of an eye and she was becoming locked in her head because her thoughts were still working.

(Y/n) could see and hear what was happening around her and she could think and form sentences and speeches in her head. Her mind was continuing to function properly but she couldn't verbalise or show what she was thinking because her body was failing.

"So we know for sure something is affecting all of her brain if it's got her motor skills and her speech..." Joe trailed off as he drifted his eyes over to look at (Y/n), managing a small smile in her direction so she wouldn't start to panic. Ben had always known that it was her brain that was the problem but they now knew that they couldn't narrow it down to a specific area or lobe of her brain because all the different areas were now affected.

"Put monitors on her to see her brain waves and function, surely if there's an anomaly or a glitch, we'll see it." Gwilym folded his arms over his chest as he tried to think about what else they could do. At least if they could see the activity of her brain then they could see if a part of her brain was suddenly not working or overworking or if something glitched, they would know where it was and what was happening. It was something they could easily do for the time being whilst they thought of something else to try and do.

"I need to find a cure. I've put her on Diazepam for the seizures because she's suddenly having two or three a day and she's still on the anti-psychotic meds but I'm no closer to finding out what's wrong with her. If I don't come up with something soon... what if these effects are irreversible?"

Ben had had to keep (Y/n) on the meds to stop her psychosis because although it had stopped now, he couldn't take her off them in case the symptoms came back. Her other symptoms seemed to have repeated recently and were flooding back so Ben had to keep her on the meds as a precaution. He also had to start giving her Diazepam which stopped seizures and muscle spasms as well as controlling a few other medical problems.

(Y/n) started to have more seizures since being admitted into the hospital and some of them were seizures where her limbs jerked and spasmed but more recently she was having seizures in her brain. Her eyes would roll to the back of her head and the monitors would scream and go viral because her brain was being affected but her body seemed to lock in place.

Ben knew it clearly hurt to have the seizures and it wasn't doing her any good to constantly keep having her brain spasm out and seize. So he had to have her on medication all day every day, he was dosing her up on Diazepam so that her brain would dull down enough to stop the seizures.

But Ben didn't know if these symptoms were going to be reversible, if he even found a cure and a diagnosis for her. He could cure what was happening in her brain but there was no guarantee that the symptoms would disappear and (Y/n) would recover. She could stay locked inside her head and become immobile like this for the rest of her life.

All of them knew that if no one found her a cure soon, her symptoms would become so severe that either her brain or heart gave out or her brain shut down and sent her into a coma. Ben couldn't have that be the outcome, he couldn't lose her so quickly when she'd only just come into his life. He couldn't lose her and find out that he could have so easily cured her. Ben needed to help her now before it was too late.

"Put her on Ciprofloxacin, it could be an infection in the membrane-"

"And if it isn't and I give her that I can make her intolerable to antibiotics or shred her immune system. I'm not giving her anything like that unless I have the diagnosis so we have to find it now."

Ben couldn't put (Y/n) on antibiotics because if that wasn't the diagnosis and Ben gave the medication to her she could become intolerable to the medication. It was a strong dose of antibiotics so if (Y/n) got through this and needed those in the future she wouldn't be able to have them and Ben was at risk of ruining her immune system with them if there was no infection. She didn't have meningitis which Ciprofloxacin was mainly used to treat, it was too dangerous.

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

Ben watched (Y/n)'s eyes drift up to look at him with a kind of pain in them that made his heart shatter and his stomach churn. She was pleading for help because for one month, she had been trapped with almost no abilities left that she had had almost all of her life.

(Y/n) felt as if she was reverted back to being a child, unable to speak, only to mutter and whine. Unable to walk or even move her legs and unable to move her arms or bend her fingers correctly. Her thoughts were always rambling but she couldn't express them in any way and it hurt to feel like she was locked inside her own body with no way to get out.

Ben was the only source of refuge that she had.

He came in every day without fail and spent almost all day with her, she wondered if he even stayed with her during the night too. He had brought cards that they used with other patients that had pictures on them. Some had coffee, some had food, some were of usual things such as clocks or music or tv. It was the only way Ben could help her to communicate with him, he would lay out some of the cards and get (Y/n) to point or simply look at whatever she wanted.

(Y/n) felt at ease when Ben would come in and talk to her. He came in as both her boyfriend and her doctor, he spoke to her like she wasn't ill and he checked the monitors and did blood tests and little tests during the day like asking her to point to something or write something out so he could check her brain function.

He even did some more MRI scans to contrast the new images of her brain to the old ones and see if there was any change or any part of her brain that was working more or less active but the little contrasts weren't any signs of an illness.

But Ben did find something interesting.

(Y/n) was still losing movement but she was gaining some as well. She was still able to move her right arm and hand even if the movements were stiff and her leg but she couldn't move properly or walk. He was noticing that the symptom of mixing things such as numbers and letters was coming back to (Y/n) again too.

"Hey, sweetheart. I need you to do something for me... can you draw that clock on the wall please."

Ben placed a plain piece of paper and a pen on the tray in front of (Y/n) and waited for her to make a noise of agreement before he took her right hand and gently placed the pen between her fingers. He helped curl her fingers around the pen before he moved back to let her do as he requested.

(Y/n) made small murmurs of concentration and strain as she tried to draw a circle for the clock but the circle was squiggled and very uneven because she didn't have enough control over her hand. She lifted her hand and bashed it back down on the table to move the pen up further so she could start drawing the numbers.

Joe entered the room just as (Y/n) had finished, and for the first time, he saw a look of hope in Ben's eyes.

"The right side of her brain is inflamed, look at how she sees the clock." Ben handed the piece of paper over to Joe as he felt a spark of hope lighting up in his chest as his brain was in overdrive to think about the reasoning for this. He could feel the cogs turning in his head as he suddenly realised just what this could be.

Joe's jaw went slack as he looked at the drawing. (Y/n) had drawn the circle for the clock, but she had written every number on the clock on the right side of the clock and left the left half blank. If the right side of the brain was inflamed it affected what that half of the brain did and the right side of the brain controlled the left half of the body and vice versa with the left half. She couldn't move the left half of her body and she couldn't interpret things properly because one half of her brain was on fire.

"What do you think's causing it?" Joe could see now why they could never find something wrong with (Y/n). Inflammation wouldn't show up on any of the scans they had done, nor on the monitors checking her brainwaves.

"She's got Anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis." Ben felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest as he reached over and took (Y/n)'s hand in his own.

This was an auto-immune disease which meant that her immune system was the cause of the disease. It thought something in her brain was a threat and her white blood cells had started to attack the receptors and nerves in her brain. It wouldn't show in blood tests and the brain was still functioning so the scans and tests wouldn't see anything wrong.

"Check the brain spinal fluid and I'll go sort out the antibiotics." Joe put down the piece of paper before he darted out of the room.

The way to test for this disease was to check the fluid in the spinal columns connecting to the brain. The fluid would show any abnormalities and the changes in the cells that would be formed to show the disease. When they got the results back they could start (Y/n) on the medication straight away and get her back to normal.

"You're gonna be okay, sweetheart."

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

"Three more steps." Ben encouraged as he stooped over a little, resting his weight onto his hands that were holding onto the two metal barriers on either side of him.

His smile wouldn't disappear from his lips as his eyes couldn't move away from (Y/n) who was standing in front of him.

It had taken just over two months to get her to this point and he couldn't believe this was now happening. As soon as they got the results back and knew Ben had the right diagnosis, Joe had gotten the antibiotics ready and they had started (Y/n) on the medication to stop the inflammation in her brain and calm down her immune system. Within days (Y/n) was able to get back her movement and feel like she could start to talk. Her head no longer felt like it was burning and her brain had calmed down.

The seizures stopped, she could read properly without her mind switching up words and numbers here and there. She wasn't hearing any voices in the back of her head and there was no paranoia eating away at her telling her that she wasn't safe and that everyone was out to get her.

But recovery hadn't been the easiest.

(Y/n) was going to have to take medication for the rest of her life because if she stopped, her immune system would simply start to attack her brain again. The medication dulled down what her immune system had done and it stopped it from attacking her brain so it would stop and the effects would disappear. But she had to take them in order to keep her body healthy.

With the ability to speak coming back to her, (Y/n) had to go to speech therapy and learn how to talk again like she was a child. And physiotherapy was needed for her to be able to walk again because her legs had been unused for over a month. She had gained back full control over her limbs and her mobility but it wasn't as easy as just standing up, she had to be able to get her feet firmly on the floor and work out how to use her legs again.

Ben had been there every step of the way.

He had taken her to speech therapy, he had been there when she first stood up and got out of bed and he had been there when she stood up on her own. Ben knew how physio worked so after a week, he was the one helping her to walk and they had the sessions every day so (Y/n) could get better quicker.

Right now, (Y/n) was trying not to lean on the metal barriers that she had used for these two months. She had gripped them and dragged herself to walk for a while but now she was trying to properly walk without needing to hold onto something to ease her weight from her legs. (Y/n) wanted to walk from one end of the barriers to the other to get to Ben without needing any assistance and she had three more steps before she reached him.

When she could walk properly and they knew for certain that her brain had recovered, she could go back home and start going to work again and (Y/n) couldn't wait for her life to start again. Up to now it was as if someone had pressed pause on her life and was only now allowing it to continue.

"C-catch me." (Y/n) stated quietly with a smile as she managed to lift her feet rather than shuffle over to Ben. It was hard to walk properly when before she never had to think about forcing her leg up and her foot to lift and then place back down. But she was walking again and to have her mobility back, felt invigorating. Her arms reached out when she got to Ben and he wrapped his arms around her waist to catch her when she stumbled against him.

He couldn't help but laugh at the sweet but dopey smile on her lips as she reached him. (Y/n) slung her arms around Ben's neck and pressed her chin into his chest so she could look up at him properly.

"There's my girl." Ben mumbled before he leaned down and pressed his lips against her own. Feeling her grin against his lips which caused him to break the kiss to smile. "You'll be coming home in no time." Ben whispered as he rested his forehead against her own, tugging her a little bit closer so her chest was pressed up against his own.

(Y/n) bent her knees to relieve the tension so it didn't feel like she was standing up for too long but Ben was holding up most of her weight making it a lot easier for her.

"Thank you." (Y/n) pushed away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she spoke earnestly. She reached up to kiss the corner of his lips but Ben's eyes narrowed quizzically. He didn't see why she was thanking him, she had spent almost six months with no diagnosis and then almost two months locked inside her head whilst he and every other doctor seemed to run around like headless chickens trying to find a diagnosis.

Ben should be thanking her for being the most patient and understanding person he had ever treated.

"Don't thank me, sweetheart. You have something so easily treatable but we couldn't find it at first. I should be thanking you for being so patient-"

He didn't feel that he deserved any praise. Ben had been given all the clues by all the symptoms (Y/n) had had and he should have found this out earlier. She could have been saved from being locked in her body or from having psychotic episodes or from the paranoia and the pain if he'd of only thought of this autoimmune disease. It was a rare disease but Ben had scoured every textbook and didn't even think or come across this idea.

"Y-you thought o... of the clock, you knew i-it was my brain and the right side. You got t... the diagnosis for me when no one else believed me... and you didn't leave me. Thank you."

Ben had asked (Y/n) to draw the clock that gave the diagnosis he needed, he noticed that the right side of her brain was the one being affected in the end. He had been there for her when she had her seizures, he gave her the medication to stop them when she had felt like her head was splitting in two. Ben had believed her when every other doctor thought she was either an alcoholic or she was exaggerating. Other doctors had come in to give their opinion when (Y/n) became locked in her body and none of them knew what to do or what was happening, except Ben.

He found out what was wrong and he didn't leave her for one single moment when she needed him. (Y/n) would be eternally grateful to him for that.

Ben started to sway them from side to side as he rested his forehead against her own, having never felt so content in his life before. It didn't care how (Y/n) came into his life anymore or how or why they got together because they were together and she was okay. Ben would never ask for anything more than this.

"I don't think I could ever leave you, sweetheart. I love you far too much for that."

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben x reader #imagine #borhap #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #help me doctor

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sleepyfountainkingdom · 4 years ago

Text

Marigolds

Pairing: Loki X Peter

Warnings: Gore. Fighting. Biting. Zombie Apocalypse.

Summary: Loki goes out on a supply run, leaving Peter to guard their current “safe house” of sorts. Things don’t necessarily go as planned for Loki.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: Loki is human in this! Both of them were pretty young when the apocalypse started. I’m also very new to actually posting my works, so if you think I should add more trigger warning tags, please tell me!

Marigolds - Despair and grief over the loss of love; The beauty and warmth of the rising sun

Peter was pacing through the store-turned-camp his and his boyfriend, Loki, had managed to set up in the abandoned mall. It’s been a few hours since Loki left for the supply run, and he should be back by now. He had only gone out to get to the pharmacy in the mall to get some water and whatever medicine he could find. He was never out for more than an hour too, and it’s almost been two hours since they said their goodbyes. The boy had to shake his head, doing his best to dismiss the grim train of thoughts. Loki would be fine. He had to be.

Loki was absolutely not fine. When he got to the pharmacy, he had found that a horde of infected had somehow found their way inside. The smart decision would have been to leave, go back to their safe house, and bring Peter with him. But he had never really been the one to make smart and well thought out decisions, more so when it implied that he needed help with something. It was only once the fight had ended and all the infected lay splayed around him dead on the floor and the adrenaline that had once flooded his system faded that he realized what had happened. An infected had managed to take a bite out of his shoulder.

He felt the blood dripping down his back first, and when he looked down he could see it drip down his arm. He stepped over the somewhat decomposed bodies, finding a place not covered in blood and sat down, pulling the gun out of its holster, letting it just loosely lay in his hand as he looked down at the broken watch, wanting to keep an eye on the time. He was honestly just waiting for the symptoms to hit him, knowing that it was just doomed to happen. They always came after an hour after the initial infection. An hour and a half passed at a snail's past, but they never did. There never was a fever, his skin never began to itch, his ability to focus wasn’t impaired, and somehow, even with the blood loss, he still managed to be conscious.

The only logical thought was that he had to be immune, there was no real other way to explain it; unless the gods he didn’t particularly believe in thought it would have been hilarious to make him turn once he made it back to the camp. He managed to push himself up off the floor using his good arm and untied the flannel that he had tied around his waist and put it on. He didn’t want to scare Peter with the bite, even if the blood was already beginning to seep through the thick fabric. He packed his bag full of water, antibiotic cream, and a few bottles of painkillers before struggling to put her bag on her shoulder. He winced when the pressure was put on his wounded shoulder, and quickly just removed the strap; he would much rather deal with having all the weight on just the one shoulder than deal with that pain all the way back. He hurried, or tried to anyways to make it back to their camp, pushing the door open with his hip. He forced himself to smile through the pain when he saw Peter running up towards him.

“Loki! You’re okay, oh thank god! I was starting to worry that you were hurt or even worse…” Peter was far too ecstatic at that very moment to notice the blood soaked flannel on his shoulders. Peter took the bag from his boyfriends, laying it gently on the floor before really getting a good look at Loki. It was clear that he had some sort of altercation, he was covered in dirt and had blood splattered across his face, but he didn't seem injured at first. That's when he saw it, the blood on his shoulder, and what blood managed to drip to the floor. Peter took a few steps back, nearly tripping over himself. "Oh god, you're bleeding! Loki what happened?!"

"Huh…? Oh… it's nothing you gotta worry about Peter." Loki picked the bag up off the floor and pushed past his boyfriend to lay the bag on the table. A quiet yet deep sigh escaped him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a moment before turning around to look at Peter, leaning against the table so he didn't lose his footing. "So nothing happened while I was gone?"

Peter looked up at Loki like he had actually lost his mind in the two hours he had been gone. "Loki, your shirt is practically drenched in blood! You can't just try and change the subject!" While he might not be as observant as Loki, but he could tell in this dim light that Loki was seeming paler than normal, almost white, because of all of the blood loss.

Loki glanced down at his arm, his mind drifting off into thought just thinking about what had actually transpired. "Well… One could definitely say that."

Peter started to pout, and his eyes started to water, his mind drifting to the unpleasant thought of Loki getting any weaker. "Can you just… please let me look at it? We can't just… leave it and risk it getting infected? We have to clean it Loki… please."

"I…" Loki tried to think of another excuse that he could use to prevent having to show off the bite wound. "Fine, fine…" He looked down to the ground as he pushed himself away from the table that he was using to hold himself up. He focused on his breathing, trying to ready himself for the movement of the flannel which would just send a new wave of pain through his body. He bit the inside of his cheek, another thing that he was doing to distract himself from the pain, while he reached to pull the fabric off his shoulder to expose the bite wound. "Tada…"

The first thing Peter tried to do was ignore the sight in front of him, though it clearly wasn't working. "You… you got bit… why'd it have to be you of all people?" Peter couldn't remember a time when he wasn't with Loki. They had been together since before they're last camp had over ran.

Loki looked towards his shoulder, a throbbing pain going through it as the bite wound only continued to seep out more blood. "It certainly does appear that way doesn't it…" He took the flannel off completely, it making an unpleasant sound when it was laid down on the table. "There was this uh… horde in the pharmacy we typically go to… I was able to kill them but not before… well ya know…"

"Loki I… I don't think that I can… that I can actually kill you… how much longer do you have…?" Panic was quick to set in, causing Peter's body to shake.

"You mean until I turn…? I mean, unless the gods are feeling particularly cruel, I don't think that's something that you have to worry about Peter… it's been about," Loki looked down at his watch, his brain taking much longer than it should have to read the hands on the clock. "Just about two hours since it actually happened?" He just let his arm fall back to the side and looked back up to meet Peter's eyes. "I honestly feel fine… besides the blood loss, but that's whatever…" He took a deep breath, his body visibly shaking when he did. "Either way, you won't have to kill me. As late as it is, if I do start showing symptoms, I'm fine with effing me myself… you don't really think I would do that to you, so you?"

"Two hours…? How… how is that even possible? You should have turned by now, or at least showing some symptoms… at the very least."

"Do you actually think I have the answer to that question? Peter… Most of those two hours were just spent waiting for the symptoms to come. I wouldn’t have even come back at all if I actually felt any of them coming along… believe it or not, I wouldn’t have done that to you. It’s like I said… I feel fine for the most part… there’s the headache and dizziness from the blood loss like I said, but it’s not the infection… and while I am a good liar, I draw the line when it comes to lying to other people, you know that.” He looked between Peter and the chair near the table and let out an almost defeated sigh. “Fuck it, I need to sit down.” He muttered quietly under his breath and held onto the table he was leaning against as he walked around to the other side, slumping down into the chair when he got there.

Peter couldn’t help but run over to him, nearly tripping over himself in the process. His imagination started to go wild again, thinking of the horror Loki must have been going through after he was bitten, and here he was tossing around accusations and throwing a fit when he had just spent two hours just waiting for the symptoms, all so Loki could protect Peter. “Well… we need to take care of it… even if you aren’t turning, we can’t just leave it open like that…” Neither of them had actually treated a bite wound of any kind, but the infection that could set in if it wasn’t cleaned and covered could prove just as deadly as turning.

“Peter, what… What is there for us to do? We don’t have enough gauze to cover it, we’ve been running low for a while. I know we don’t have enough rubbing alcohol, but we have plenty of water though it wouldn’t be wise for us to use it all on this since it’s all we have to drink.” Loki looked up to Peter, his face finally showing just how drowsy he was now that he wasn’t holding up the front that nothing was wrong. It really wasn’t bleeding much, the bite wasn’t deep enough to hit any arteries, but it was the amount of time the wound has been bleeding. “I mean really Peter.”

As much as Peter hated to admit it, Loki was right, but that didn’t deter Peter any. “We don’t have enough to treat it on our own, but I know somewhere we could get more.” He walked closer to get a better look at the bite. It was bad, but it should be treatable with the right stuff. “There’s a vet place just down the hall, say it last time we went out to get food. It hasn’t been broken into yet somehow, but they should have everything we need to treat it, right?”

“Alright fine, let’s go then…” Loki forced himself to stand up, putting all his weight on his good arm. “Get your bag goo, lord knows how it’s gonna take to actually heal.” He wasn’t about to let Peter go on his own to somewhere that hasn’t been cleared out, not after this happened when he went out on his own.

Peter immediately shook his head and pushed Loki back into the chair; it was a task that was far too easy for it to not be concerning. “Absolutely not Loki, you’re not going anywhere.” He could tell by just looking at him that the man sitting in front of him. “You’re in no shape to go out or get into a fight. I’ll do this myself, you could collapse while we’re out, or bleed completely out. I’ve got this, okay? This place was locked up, there won’t be many inside, if any.”

Loki looked like he had a protest on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t like the idea of Peter going off on his own, locked or not it just left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Fine…” He took his handgun back out of its holster and laid it on the table. “Go on and go, but if there’s too many you come right back here. Do you understand me?”

“I’ll run if there’s more than I can handle, you don’t gotta worry about it.” Peter rubbed Loki’s good shoulder, doing his best to try and reassure him. “I won’t be long, give me an hour at most, that’s all I ask.”

“Alright fine… but the moment you leave that door, I’ll be keeping an eye on my watch and if you aren’t back in an hour I will go after you.” It was an empty threat for the most part; Loki was well aware of the fact that he most likely wouldn’t be awake long enough to be able to follow through with it, mainly since he was already starting to feel himself fall asleep.

“I’ll be back, just you wait.” Peter poured the contents of Loki’s bag onto the table, some of the bottles rolling off and hitting the floor. He took it and his own bag with him as he hurried out of the room. He booked it to the vet, already pulling out his key chain that had the lock picks on it. He saw once he pushed the gate up that there was only one infected in the room, trapped under a shelf that had been knocked over for who knows how long by now, but it was an easy target so Peter didn’t complain. He spent half an hour packing what he could in the two large bags before running back to their camp.

Peter came back to seeing Loki and panicked as he ran up to him. If you looked closely, you could have seen the rise and fall of his chest as his lungs tried to overcompensate thanks to all of the blood loss. Peter sat on the floor and quickly pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He took a second to screw off the lid and tore off the seal before quickly pouring some onto the open wound. Loki shot up out of the seat, a loud string of curses flying out of his mouth. He was clenching his hands in an attempt to calm himself down. After a moment he finally looked down towards Peter who was still sitting on the floor. “What the hell was that?”

“Oh uh… Rubbing alcohol.” Peter lifted the bottle somewhat in his hands. He, admittedly, only felt a little bit guilty, and that was only because he knew that he caused Loki pain, but he was awake now, and frankly that’s all he cared about. “I’m not sure how else I could have woken you up.” He sat the bottle down on the floor and looked up to Loki. “What I got from the vet is meant for animals I think, but they should work for now… If you start barking or whatever we can handle that another time.” Peter let out a nervous laugh and forced himself to smile when he looked back up to Loki.

“Yeah, yeah whatever… Loki slowly lowered himself back down into the chair carefully, and laid his arms back on the table before resting his head back down to get himself in a comfortable position. He looked at the blood soaked fabric of his long past well worn flannel. It had at one point been his brother’s, but he wasn’t even sure if Thor had managed to make it out when their homes were overtaken, and if he was alive how he was supposed to start looking for him. He let out a quiet sigh before turning his gaze to look towards the door. “I’m gonna need a new flannel.” He wasn’t happy about it, but it wasn’t like he was gonna walk around wearing something covered in his own blood. “Might be a good idea to give me something to bite down on too…”

“I’ll get you a new one soon.” Peter rubbed Loki’s back gently, and pushed himself up off the ground finally. He went to where their clothes were put away, and grabbed one of his shirts to bring over to Loki. “I found this poster while I was there… talks about first aid for dog or cat bites…” He pulled the poster out, and rolled it out. “Said to uh… clean it i, put antibiotics on it, then put bandages on it.” He pulled everything that he would need out of the bags, and then pulled out the small sewing kit that he always carried with him. “Hopefully I won’t need to sew it, but we have the sewing kit we found a while ago just in case, and these strip things too.” He scurried off for a moment, running to get a chair so he could better see the bite while he worked on it.

“This is gonna be shitty… Just go on and get it over with.” Loki muttered quietly, mostly to himself, before just stuffing then rolled up t-shirt into his mouth so it could act like a makeshift gag, already biting down on the fabric.

Peter didn’t like being the one that was causing Loki pain, but he shoved that to the side cause he knew that this was something that needed to be done. He poured some rubbing alcohol onto the cotton pad and started to pad the area clean. After a few minutes he was done, and there was a small pile of bloodied cotton pads in front of them but at least the job was done. “There… I’ll let you rest up for a few moments before I continue patching you up.”

Loki pulled the shirt out of his mouth, and took a moment to blink the tears out of his eyes before speaking. “Remind me to never do this again…”

“Well if you wanted someone to bite you, you could have just asked me.” Peter forced himself to smile again, trying to just lighten up the mood.

“Peter, if you took a chunk of skin off me, you and I are gonna have to have a talk, just sayin.” Loki managed to let out a quiet laugh, and glanced up to Peter.

Peter barely kept himself from crying from just hearing Loki still being able to crack jokes at times like this. “Maybe I’ll just nibble a bit then… How… How are you feeling?”

“The stinging for the most part is gone, if that’s what you’re curious about. There’s some uh… tubes of antibiotic cream on the table. You probably saw them when you emptied my bag out but I got them while I was out… Figured you would want to know since you’ll need it.” Loki used one of his hands to point out one of them that had stayed on the table.

“I will, thank you for telling me.” Loki really wasn’t turning. He wouldn’t have been able to think like this if he was. Neither of them really knew how this was possible, but it was a gift, and was one of the few things neither of them would complain about. “Now I’m gonna have to poke around some… just to make sure that thing didn’t leave any teeth in you… and for future reference Loki, how about no more kinky biting games while you’re out, that sounds good enough for you?”

Loki didn’t like to think about just how lucky he was to have been immune, though he could thoroughly imagine that he was out of any good karma that he’s gained since he and Peter made it safely out of their last camp. “Well what can I say, I didn’t expect me brandishing my gun around to have been a turn on for them.”

Peter gave Loki a look that just screamed ‘you’re impossible’ before he leaned forward and pecked his lips carefully. “Alright, let me clean it out and bandage it before you get too cocky again.” He reached down and got a pair of tweezers out of his bag. “Come her, let me poke at ya.”

Loki just grinned like an idiot when he saw the look on Peter’s face. “Oh shut up, you know damn well that you wouldn’t have me any other way.” He situated himself, moving his arm back to give Peter more access to the bite. “Go on, poke away.” He quickly put the shirt back in his mouth and bit down once more.

Peter took a moment to situate a flashlight in his mouth so he could see the bite more clearly. He started poking around with the tweezers, pulling out a broken tooth and small shards of glad that he decided that it would be better left unquestioned. He took the flashlight out of his mouth for a moment, wanting to rest his jaw for a moment before finishing up. “Alright, that’s the worst part done and over with.” He reached over and grabbed a roll of bandages. He put the flashlight back in his mouth, and took his time carefully putting them on him, wanting to make sure they were tight. He took the flashlight out of his mouth and laid it on the able, smiling a bit. “Tada! All done.”

Loki pushed himself up and away from the table, and took the shirt out of this mouth, laying it on the table. He was holding himself up with his good arm before just quickly collapsing back into the chair he had been sitting in. “Well that’s certainly not gonna happen right now…” He patted the table softly. “I think I might just… stay here for a little bit.”

#tw gore #tw biting #tw fighting #tw zombie #frostspider #loki x peter #zombie apocolypse au

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sharinluna · 5 years ago

Text

MLQC Chapter 16 Translation Part 1

Translation of excerpts from chapter 16.

This is not a full translation, only some parts. It’s more like a abbreviation/summary/paraphrasing of some parts of the story. Do not ask me to translate more or reveal more plots in the story.

The translation is based on KR version text. I’m not a professional translator and get things wrong. So do not regard this as the actual canon story.

I used Yōurán as the name of MC because that is the unofficial default MC’s name in CN version.

DO NOT COPY, QUOTE, REPOST OR REBLOG THIS ANYWHERE. Links are okay but I don’t want this post to spread too much in other communities or websites.

16-1

???: As you all know, Hades’s return-to-zero plan has started.

16-3

It has been 10 days since Gavin was gone. I looked down at my bracelet feeling pain and sorrow. He said he’d come back, I had to believe him.

The news was talking about the latest influenza outbreak. The symptoms were similar to a regular flu, coughing, high fever and lethargy. It couldn’t be cured by any existing antibiotics. No one died yet, but the number of the infected was increasing every day. Every laboratory in the nation was researching about this, but there was no solution yet. The virus spread faster than anything we’ve seen before.

I wore my cotton mask before I went out.

When I went to the office building I heard the security guards talking.

Guard: Did you hear about that guy? He caught the flu this morning. He couldn’t even recognize his wife.

I felt anxiety in my heart growing. He didn’t even recognize his wife… how could this be a symptom of a regular flu? It occurred to me that I could inquire someone about the disease.

As I entered the hospital my suspicion that this was not a regular flu grew more. I met doctor Song(the female doctor from chapter 13), after the Evol rampage was solved, she went back to curing patients.

Yōurán: Dr. Song, I wanted to inquire about the recent flu epidemic…

Dr. Song: I was about to call you. There are some strange things, and I wanted to check that I’m not being paranoid… This flu is unlike anything we’ve seen before.

Yōurán: I thought so too, and I just heard something that might back your claim. Among the infected, there are hardly any children or old people. Usually they get sick first because they have weaker immune systems. But this time, it’s the opposite, the flu only targets healthy, young people.

Dr. Song: Yes, and I found out that there are no evolvers among the sick. I think…. the virus is selecting certain genes.

Yōurán: So you’re saying that the virus is targeting healthy non-evolvers on purpose.

Was this another scheme from Black Swan. They’ve targeted evolvers before, now they’re targeting non-evolvers?

16-6

I was walking home. The usually busy streets were empty and many shops were closed down. I felt dismal. Could I ever look up to the sky with light feelings?

The TV screen in the building lighted up.

News: Professor Lucien’s research lab has announced a press conference about the latest influenza.

I stopped right there. I haven’t thought of Lucien for a long time. Since that day, he disappeared from my life. He moved away from next door and didn’t answer any of my calls.

I asked myself many times whether I despised him, and the answer was “no”. The world was not black and white, and I didn’t want to judge him with just one idea of what was right and wrong.

I just didn’t want to think about him again, but every word from the screen etched to my ears. He is part of the Black Swan, and since this virus is likely related to Black Swan… I can’t deny that he is part of all this.

Yōurán: I could just send Willow… or anyone else to report about this conference…

I don’t know what I was trying to avoid. Was I afraid of the answer that would come from him? Was I afraid to find out that the flu outbreak had something to do with him, because I would get emotional? Or… was I simply afraid to see him again?

I closed my eyes and made up my mind. I had to attend this conference.

Footsteps could be heard and the reporters gathered up front to hear what Lucien had to say. Just then, his eyes met me standing among the reporters. I turned around and lowered my head. My heart was beating like crazy. A few seconds later, I gathered courage to glance at him, he was talking to his assistant like he hadn’t seen me.

I needed to get a grip. I made my decision to come here. I was not going to cower in fear. After taking a few deep breathes I held my camera up to start shooting.

16-7

Lucien: Hello. Thank you all for coming. I would like to announce that we are working on a new remedy that will cure the influenza.

Audience A: Professor, my father has the flu, and he’s trying to volunteer for human experimentation. Please refuse him!

I took out my voicepen to record his words and realized that it was actually Lucien’s silver pen. I shoved that thing back into my pocket. I must have brought it instead in my hurry.

Yōurán: Why now…. this… of all things…

I was too busy feeling sorry about myself to notice that Lucien startled for the shortest second.

Lucien: First of all, I would like to offer condolences for your father, but I’m afraid that I can’t grant your wish. Furthermore, I want more people to offer themselves for this drug testing.

Audience A: But… what if my father dies?

Lucien: All scientific progress is founded on sacrifices, that includes trial-and-error of bodily harms and deaths. All of which I think are necessary.

Audience A: So you’re expecting people to submit themselves to this testing that is potentially fatal?

More people began to voice their complaints. But Lucien faced them without even a blink. I suppose for him, this was a rational solution to the problem. I felt resentment rising slowly in my chest.

I’d heard enough. I got up to leave, but someone grabbed my wrist.

Reporter C: Hey, aren’t you the producer of the Miracle Finder? Professor Lucien is a consultant in that show!

Reporter B: Does that mean that you were already aware of his human subject research?

Yōurán: I was just here for the report. Please focus on the conference.

I tried to get away. I sincerely regretted coming here. But I was surrounded by reporters. Questions flew at me from everywhere.

Reporter C: As a producer and his coworker, what’s your opinion about Professor Lucien’s thoughts?

Reporter D: Does Miracle Finder agree with Professor Lucien’s human experimentation?

I looked at Lucien, unsure what to answer. He was looking at me like he was seeing a very entertaining scuffle. The corner of his mouth was even twitching.

I felt anger boiling inside me. I was angry at him, and I was also angry at myself.

Yōurán: Apologies. But this is not something that I can answer. My relationship with Professor Lucien is purely for business, and Miracle Finder will find a new consultant. I ask that you focus on the conference at hand. Please excuse me.

After I was done talking and made to leave, I heard his familiar voice.

Lucien: Does Producer Yōurán(he’s referring to her very formally, almost like a stranger) not agree with the direction of this experiment?

My heart felt like bursting out. I didn’t think that I could face him. I pictured many times how we would meet each other again, but I hadn’t thought that we would meet like this.

Yōurán: No, I don’t.

Lucien: Then why are you trying to leave when the conference is not even over. If there is something you don’t agree, then say it.

His tone was nonchalant, but I could sense fury that the others couldn’t catch.

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, then turned around and faced him. This was the first time that I saw him face to face since his reveal as Ares.

Yōurán: I want to ask Professor Lucien a question. Earlier you mentioned that sacrifices are necessary. Specifically what kind of sacrifices are needed?

A smile crossed his eyes. He was silent for a moment, then slowly opened his lips.

Lucien: Death, in the sense of physiological meaning.

Yōurán: So you’re saying that it’s normal to demand people to sacrifice their lives for the advancement of society?

Lucien: Yes. I agree wholly to that statement.

The reporters were shooting their films at us enthusiastically. Apparently, the war of words between us was more interesting than the remedy for the flu.

Lucien: This reminds me of the famous trolley problem. No matter what you choose, you face an ethical dilemma. But the truth is, many people fall behind as society progresses, in the form of death or others. It is the law of the universe that the weak ones fall back and the strong ones survive and reproduce. That is the only way that the human race survives continuously.

He enunciated each world clearly as he met my eye. I felt utterly foolish. What was I thinking, that I could change his views which he held onto no matter what?

Yōurán: In your eyes, is human life so insignificant?

He took a step towards me. It seemed that his eyes held some kind of enmity.

Lucien: Then, what is not insignificant in this world?

I gathered up my courage and stood up straighter and said:

Yōurán: All life forms have a right to be respected. Every one of us are doing their best to survive. You may think that’s nothing, but look at the patients in the hospital. They may be comatose, but their consciousness are fighting to stay alive. The children in the orphanages, beggars in streets, they are trying their best to live on. Their will to keep on living is their right. You have no right to deprive people of this.

Silence could be heard. Lucien looked down at me with inquiry and arrogance.

Lucien: Well said. But you are only voicing the minority. Ever since prehistoric times, the human race have slaughtered and sacrificed the weak. Some of those deaths contributed nothing to the society. “Equality” is not the principle of society. Humans have competed with each other to stay in the higher place of hierarchy for survival. If it’s for progress, we don’t even need consent for such sacrifices.

I thought of that day before when he said the same things coldly like this. That it was all for the better future. Is this really the future he wanted?

I asked him something that I wanted to ask for a long time.

Yōurán: What if… you had to sacrifice yourself? Would you still do it?

He nodded without hesitation, it even seemed like he was smiling.

Lucien: Yes. For the advancement of society as a whole, I will gladly make that sacrifice.

Yōurán: What if you had to sacrifice someone precious to you?

Without thinking, that question came out from my lips. I stared at him. I didn’t know what I was hoping for. I knew the answer already.

He kept staring at me without answering. The subtle movement of the corner of his lips seemed to mock my asinine question. Time passed. He still didn’t answer.

What was I doing here? I knew what his answer would be anyway.

There was a time when I thought, if I ever met him again, I would argue with him and voice all my opinions. But I now realized how futile that was. What was the point? He was not the Lucien that I used to know anymore.

Yōurán: I wish you all luck in your research, Professor. However, I cannot agree with your values. Ever. To me, there are more important things than survival.

I closed my eyes to hide my hurt and disappointment, and turned around and walked away. I could hear the shutters of the cameras. Next day there will be numerous headlines about our verbal match, but I didn’t want to care anything about that now.

16-11

I sat down on the bench trying to calm my wildly beating heart. I looked back at the direction of the conference room, and I realized once again that Lucien and I were on opposing sides.

Yōurán: And you already know that. Why are you still concerned…? Let’s just go home…

I gathered my things and realized that I left my pen behind.

Yōurán: Well.. the owner of the pen is still there… if the staff pick it up they will give it to him…

I tried to convince myself to leave with this logic.

Ten minutes later I put my head inside the conference room.

Yōurán: I guess everyone’s gone now…

After I checked that no one was there, I walked hesitantly in. Soon I found the pen on the floor and picked it up.

Yōurán: Found it!

???: What are you doing there?

I startled and hit my head on the podium. It really hurt and I had to drop the pen to grasp my head. Then pen rolled and stopped at the front of black shoes. Long slender fingers picked it up.

Lucien: You came back for this?

His eyes looking down at me held mischief. I gathered myself before approaching him.

Yōurán: Yes. Is something the matter?

He handed the pen out to me.

Lucien: Don’t ever lose it again.

His voice reminded me of that warm late spring day from such a long time ago, but my heart grew colder and colder. I knew shouldn’t have come back here.

I didn’t take the pen from his hand and retraced my steps.

Yōurán: I don’t need it anymore. Besides, it wasn’t mine from the start. The pen should go back to its owner now.

There was no change in his facial expression, but his eyes narrowed slightly. He took the pen in his pocket.

Lucien: You owe me something else besides the pen.

Yōurán: …what?

Lucien approached me and blocked my way.

Lucien: Today I found out that I was resigned from Miracle Finder without notice. Is it too much to demand an explanation?

Yōurán: I’m sure such things don’t matter to you anymore, Professor.

Lucien: It matters for my reputation.

His tone was light, like he was playing with me. The audacity of him!

Yōurán: This is not fair!

Lucien: I thought you already knew that about me.

He’d already stepped closer to me. I felt pressured.

Lucien: All I want to know is why.

Yōurán: You don’t have to waste your valuable time honoring my humble show with your overbearing presence. (She is sarcastically talking to him as if he’s some royalty. That since he’s so high and mighty he shouldn’t concern himself with the likes of her.)

Lucien: What if I want to continue to be on your show?

Anger raged inside me again. I closed my eyes to contain my emotions and said quickly.

Yōurán: You lost your right because you have different values. My show, Miracle Finder, is about intrinsic values of justice and philanthropy.

Why was he not saying anything? When I opened my eyes he had let me go and was walking away from me.

Lucien: Good thinking. I understand.

Yōurán: Wait! I have something I want to ask you. The recent flu outbreak, did you have anything do to with it?

Please, please tell me that you had nothing to do with it.

Lucien: Yes.

I felt something sinking at my chest.

Yōurán: Y, yes, I see…

Lucien: It seems that you’re disappointed in me. What were you planning to do if you confirmed your suspicions?

He was emitting out a dangerous atmosphere. I stepped away from him until I reached the end of the stage.

Lucien: Did your concept of what is right and just, give you what you wanted? Is this what you think is more important than survival? I want to ask you, will you sacrifice someone precious to you to hold on to your beliefs?

My back reached the cold hard wall. Lucien had already put his hand on the wall beside my face.

Lucien: I see you’re hesitating. Should I take that as a yes?

Before I could answer, a bright light blinded my eyes. In an instant a strong force pulled me forward and I was in his arms. Next moment, a ray of golden beam struck the place where I’ve just been. He hugged me tighter into his chest, his hands shielding my head.

He looked out the window. His eyes held a murderous stare. Was I mistaken when I thought I saw in his eyes fear that he would lose something precious to him…? But that look vanished quickly, as if I had imagined it.

I tried to get away from his arms, but he held on tight.

Yōurán: Lucien…

Lucien: Don’t talk…

It felt like things between us had gone back to the way they were before. When he was still Lucien. Like then, he was protecting me from danger. I felt warm in my heart.

I stepped back and saw a hole that was paved on the wall.

Yōurán: Are you okay? Thanks for saving me…

Lucien: It was only for your safety, nothing more.

Yōurán: You saved me… because you need me alive in your plan?

Lucien: Of course, I never engage in useless actions.

I knew it. Back then, the Black Swan goons said they needed me alive for their scheme. So all this time he must have protected me for the same reasons…

I felt tired. I just wanted to get away from here.

Lucien: You still haven’t answered my question.

I looked at his eyes but couldn’t fathom anything about him. Maybe this was for the best. I laughed dejectedly and looked into his eyes.

Yōurán: I didn’t. And I won’t.

My eyes were getting teary but I kept them wide open.

Yōurán: Even if I were smart enough to know all the secrets and knowledge with my precognition, even if I were powerful enough to move all mountains, without love, those are meaningless to me.

Yōurán: The truth of this world is cruel and painful. But even when the light is gone from people’s lives, I will hold on to my own light. No matter how impossible it is, no matter how dark everything else is, no matter how foolish I may be. I won’t give up.

Yōurán: Someone who used to be very precious to me taught me that. I will never give up.

As I turned around I let the tears flow freely. I will never shed tears in front of him again.

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

Okay, I had to stop here because this was being too long.

I had so much fun translating Lucien and MC in the press conference. What I love about their dynamics is that Lucien and MC both hold on firmly to their beliefs but they still care for each other deep down.

Lucien as an extreme Darwinist won’t bat an eyelash as he sacrifices many “weak” people for the “strong” people to survive, but when asked about whether he would sacrifice MC, he refuses to answer.

MC will continue to defy Lucien and fight against him but when asked whether she would “sacrifice” him, she refuses to answer.

They are fighting each other ferociously and they are both determined to defeat the other, but none of their swords will land a fatal blow to each other.

Who will win in this battle? Well the answer is obvious :)

I’ll come up with part 2 when I feel like it.

#mlqc #love and producer #mlqc translation

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virgilsinferno · 6 years ago

Photo

SPILLR » CHAPTER THREE

important :: this is a horror fic and might contain triggering content. proceed with caution.

tw :: nightmares, death, corpse

word count :: 3145

notes :: uh yeah,, there are loceit and logicality stuff in this chapter and analogical in the previous ones,, but there will be no endgame ships nor will there be romance between the 5 of them.

intro || 1 || 2

Lately, Dmitri has been feeling ill. Like his immune system’s getting weaker every day. He thinks it’s nothing to worry about though, and green tea helps from time to time. Yet even when he’s not feeling to well, he still refuses to sleep. Logan tells him it’s because of circadian rhythms. He doesn’t know what it means, but if he wanted to know, he can always ask Logan.

School life was stressful for him due to his popularity. Everyone adored him and constantly bothered him, all because of the fact that he’s kind of popular on the internet. It wasn’t his fault, really. People simply loved the content he posted. From the latest gossip to the recent breakups, he knew it all. And he delivered the news so eloquently, people took his word for it. Not everything posted on the internet is real. He’s just trying to have some fun by rewriting the tales that have been passed down from person to person. He guesses having fun also had its consequences.

Almost the entire school had his number. He doesn’t know how they get it, but he keeps changing it just to be sure. So when he gets the 3rd call that morning, he had his doubts. Upon seeing the caller ID, he let out a sigh of relief. Thank the heavens it wasn’t one of those creeps that keep trying to ask him out on a date. It was only 3 in the morning, and yet 2 people have already started annoying him. At least it was Logan who called. He could never annoy him. If anything or anyone dares to hurt his friend, he would lead an army of followers right to their doorstep and ruin their life.

Hey, he cared about Logan immensely.

“Hey Lo.” He greets, taking a sip of his tea.

“Are you free right now?” Logan asks through the phone. Dmitri chokes on the tea and has a coughing fit. He sets down his tea on his bedside table. It takes a few seconds for him to stop coughing.

“Yes. Are you asking me on a date?”

On the other end, Logan’s eyes flew wide in shock. He somehow manages to keep his cool and a smirk appears on his face. “No. Why, do you want me to?”

“Hell no! Shut up.”

“If you say so. Can you come over right now?”

“Yeah sure, gimme a sec. Be there in 10-ish? Should I bring anything? Flamethrower… sword… you name it.”

“Just yourself.”

“Gotcha.”

He ends the call and rolls off of the bed, landing on the floor with a thump. To him it sounded urgent, so he threw on a leather jacket over his plain yellow shirt and put on the first pair of jeans he saw.

The window had a tree branch near it, so he could get out and get back in through the window with ease. Logan didn’t live too far, which meant he didn’t have to sneak into the garage and get his car. At that moment, he felt incredibly grateful for all of the working out he’s been doing. The faster he can run, the more trouble he can cause. And also, he’d feel less worn out whenever he sneaks out of the house to go see Logan.

7 minutes later, he arrives at the front door and rings the doorbell. Usually, he’d ring it 3 times. One long ring followed by two short ones. It was his own way of letting them know who’s at the door. But this time, Logan opened the door right after the first ring and dragged him in.

“Lo, you okay? You look spooked.”

“I’m good. We should get going, the others are waiting for us.”

“Others? Wait, what?”

“Yes, and we have important matters to discuss.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

They head to Logan’s room, thoughts of the worst possible things that could happen already forming in Dmitri’s mind. Why does he have a bad feeling about this?

“You’ll be fine.” He says, patting him on the shoulder. Dmitri nods. He’ll be fine.

As soon as he walks in the familiar room, he could feel eyes on him. It was a normal thing for him, but there’s always been a slight feeling of discomfort. He only loves the attention he gets when he wants attention.

“It’s you!” says one of them, the one in the purple hoodie. “You’re the guy with the yellow eyes in my nightmare!”

Okay, what? That, he wasn’t expecting. Better to be the guy in someone’s nightmare than to be the guy who’s internet famous, right? Logan gives purple hoodie guy a warning look.

“Sorry, that was rude. The name’s Virgil, man.”

“Virgil,” he repeats. “what an odd name. I like it.”

That sounds familiar.

The guy which Dmitri now knows as Virgil visibly becomes paler. He doesn’t know how to react to this, nor does he know if he should do anything. Was it something he said? He hoped not. The guy with the gray cardigan on his shoulders comforts him.

“Listen man, this might sound weird and all, but that’s what you said. In my nightmare thing. Kinda freaked out right now.”

Dmitri nods in understanding. “I get it. Sometimes I get nightmares that come true as well.”

He realizes what he just said and his right hand immediately covers his mouth. Too much information. That’s when he also realizes that he had forgotten to put in his contacts. Which meant that they could see his real eye color—a mix between light gray and blue.

“Uh, at least you don’t have yellow eyes?”

“Yeah about that… Virgil, right? I seem to have forgotten to put on my contacts before I left.”

“So you can have yellow eyes if you wanted to?”

“If I wanted to. Don’t worry, I won’t use yellow contacts if we are to meet again.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Now, let’s discuss the matter at hand.”

As he was about to continue, Patton’s phone rang. He excused himself and went outside of Logan’s room to answer the call. It was his mom calling. Logan proceeded to catch Dmitri up on things.

“Hey mom!”

“Pat, dear, where are you? We’re worried sick about you!”

“I’m fine mom, I’m at a friend’s place right now. I didn’t want to go home yet ‘cause Dallon might come looking for me there and we’re sort of not on good terms right now. I’ll be back for lunch, I promise!”

“Oh honey, has no one told you yet? Dallon went missing four days ago. His body was found by the river yesterday at 6:50 pm.”

Missing?

… Body?

There was a sudden feeling of suffocation, yet Patton was aware that he could breathe just fine. He knew he was alive, he had to be. Didn’t he call him recently? That means he’s not dead, right? He heard his voice through the phone, he’d know that voice from anywhere. There’s no way he’s dead. Right?

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Yeah mom. I… I have to go.”

Patton ended the call and ran back into the room. He plopped down next to Virgil and put his knees to his chest muttering a few incoherent words. They all stopped what they were doing to try and comfort Patton, even though they had no idea what was going on.

“I-I’m not imagining things, I can’t be. I heard him. I’m not imagining things.” He sounded so confused and the others weren’t sure if they should give him some space momentarily or let him talk it out. Everything was going too fast and they had no time to process the situation.

“Virgil! You were there, you heard it too, right? He was calling me, he’s not dead. You know that too. He was calling and you were next to me and you heard us talking. I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Patton, I uh… yeah, someone was calling you. Could you talk slower please?”

The room fell silent.

“Dallon’s dead,” Patton whispered. It was quiet, but loud enough for the rest of them to hear. “He’s been dead since yesterday. But he called me so that means he’s not dead, right? I don’t want him back, I really don’t, but he called me and now I just have to believe he’s dead?”

“Still confused!” Roman groaned. Of course he’d be the most clueless one out of all of them.

For a moment, Dmitri’s eyes switched from light gray to brown. It was fast enough to think of it as nothing, but what he said was quite worrying. “Not everyone you know is real.”

“W-what?” Patton asked, gripping the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie.

Dmitri tilted his head. “What?”

“I’m all for the spooky stuff, I truly am, but I don’t understand anything! Please, don’t leave me out of this adventure of a lifetime!”

Brown eyes gazed into Roman’s— brown eyes that he knew were once a different color. Though he really never got a good look at Dmitri’s face, so he wasn’t sure if his eyes did change colors. Then again, he did mention something about contacts but he hasn’t been paying that much attention to anything, really. Something told him he’d better stay out of this entire thing.

“Trust me, you don’t want to be a part of this.” said Dmitri in a stern voice.

The lights began to flicker and Dmitri’s eyes began rapidly switching between light gray and brown. He grabs Virgil’s arm and pulls him closer to him in a harsh manner. He leans dangerously close to his ear, and in the softest voice he could manage, he whispers: “You know too much. All those theories in your head are absolutely right. I can’t keep this up, it’s bound to find out. Don’t worry, I’ll get all of you out. Eventually.”

Utterly terrified, perplexed, and stressed were only a few words that could describe how Virgil was feeling. He gives Dmitri a weak nod and wraps his hoodie around him even tighter. As soon as the lights stopped flickering, it changed from a warm white color to a disturbing red color, bathing the entire room with the color red. Roman, though full of fear, got off of the bed to get out of the room and make himself a salad despite his brother’s warnings.

The door wouldn’t budge so he was forced to sit back down on the king-sized bed and snack on the cookies til the lights were back to normal. Logan only cared for all of their safety and wouldn’t want any of them to be attacked by whoever was messing with them. Surely, they’ve got to be inside the house. Yet the look on Dmitri’s face said otherwise. He appeared to be calm, but he was shaking. Virgil on the other hand was breathing heavily, and Patton was trying not to cry.

The light flickered once more, making it dark for a fraction of a second then returning to its previous state. They all sighed in relief. Now that that was over, Logan got up to check if there were any people inside the house that may have messed with their lighting and if there were any possessions stolen. There was just one tiny problem.

“Hey uh, where’s Dmitri?” asked Virgil, who was doing his best to keep his breathing even. He was a hundred percent sure that he was there a moment ago. They would be able to feel it if someone were to get up, seeing as they were all sitting down very closely to each other. It was almost like Dmitri had disappeared in thin air.

“No one is going to leave this room until I am sure that it is safe to do so.” Logan announces to the remaining members of the group.

As if it couldn’t get any weirder, their phones all went off simultaneously, and the television was switching through channels at a blistering speed. A familiar face shows up on TV. It was Dmitri. His irises were now yellow and he looked scared. Anxious, even. There was nothing but darkness behind him. Everything was so difficult to understand and there were a thousand thoughts that were overlapping over each other. It didn’t make any sense.

“I’m dreaming, it’s okay it’s just a nightmare. It’s just a dream.” Roman repeated over and over to himself.

“I don’t have much time,” Dmitri starts, looking around nervously before continuing. “I’ll do my best to get you all out. Just please don’t look at it in the eyes for any longer than 10 seconds. I wish you all the best of luck.”

The television turns off and their phones stop making noise. Roman is the first to speak. “What was all that about?”

A loud crackling sound is heard, followed by the deafening sound of static. Then the power went out. Usually, one would still be able to make out the figures of whatever is in a completely dark room. Or at least be able to feel any objects that were littered around.

It was entirely pitch black. Like when one would close their eyes and be met with absolute darkness. It no longer felt like they were sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Logan?” Roman called out, reaching his arms out and feeling around for any sign of life.

“Here!” His brother responded. Did he hear it on the left or on the right?

It was clear that the brothers were in close proximity to each other. Virgil on the other hand, found that he was slightly farther away due to the voices barely being heard. He took out his phone from his pocket and used it as a flashlight, though not much was accomplished. Everything was still pitch black. He walked around for a bit—a desperate attempt at finding a way out. No luck. Instead, he had tripped on something. Or rather, someone.

Virgil shone a light at what had caused him to trip. A body. He didn’t know if the person was dead or not, but they sure had a familiar face. Well, it did have a rotting smell so he supposed it was a dead body. It was a face he had seen around before, though he couldn’t pinpoint where he had seen it. The anxiety was starting to kick in. Its head shifted to the right, allowing him to observe its face more.

Its eyes flew open.

“Holy fuck.” Virgil kicked it in surprise and ran as far as he could away from the seemingly alive corpse. It was so dark that he had not seen that there was someone in front of him, causing him to bump into the person. He pointed his light at the person’s face which made them squint. It was Roman.

“Watch it, Captain Brood.” He sneered.

“You’re in my way, Roman Numerals.” Virgil retorted. “Where are we?”

“Definitely not in Bill Nye the stoic guy’s room, that’s for sure.”

Someone crashed into Virgil, making him bump into Roman once more. They could tell it was Patton right away, because of the high-pitched squeal he made when he saw it was the two of them. Logan was with him as well, holding Patton’s hand to make sure he doesn’t run off and get lost even more.

“The whole group is here! Let’s go, my entourage!” Roman exclaimed as he took the lead. Logan, Patton, and Virgil followed behind him, with Patton refusing to let go of Logan’s hand. Just in case.

“L, how do you suppose we get out?”

“That is for us to find out. Are you alright?”

“M’not on the verge of a panic attack. It’s strange, I feel like I’m being watched but it also feels like I’m safe.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing.”

The four of them continued walking, following wherever Roman decided to go. It’s not like they know where they’re going either, so they might as well take a chance. Eventually, they come across a door. Roman puts a hand on the doorknob and faces Logan, probably asking for permission first to open the door. His older brother nods. They all silently pray that it’s the way out.

It’s a…house?

More specifically, it was a freaking huge house reminiscent of the one in Layers of Fear. Oh for goodness sake, out of anything that the dark void could possibly bring them to, it puts them in a freaking video game. Virgil groans upon realization and picks up a cassette tape that was randomly laying around. He attempts to throw it at the wall out of frustration, but was stopped by Patton.

“Wait! I found a cassette tape player, maybe this is a clue!” He says, taking the tape from his friend.

He plays the tape.

“Hello? Hello, hello? I’m kidding. This is Dmitri. I see you’ve found the first clue. Don’t worry about me, I’m okay. Doing my best to get it away from you guys as possible. Focus on finding a way out, and don’t split up. It’s going to use your fears against you, and you’re all probably in the first stage right now.”

They all look at each other with accusing stares.

“So which one of you is afraid of this game in particular?” Roman asks, pointing to the other three.

Patton raises his hand slowly. “The painting is scary!”

“This is fine, I’ve played this before. Just don’t wander off.” Virgil said as he gave a knowing look at the other three.

The layout of the house wasn’t how Virgil remembered it, but it has been a while since he had played it so he wasn’t entirely sure. It seemed to have elements from different games he had played, though. He was wondering how a simple social networking site could put them in so much danger when he came across a piece of paper hanging from a strand of spider silk. Logan takes it before Virgil could.

Similar to the first note they had gotten, it had a drawing of an eye. In the center it had a message. Logan reads it aloud.

“You should have read the privacy policy.”

“No it doesn’t!” Virgil scoffs, taking the piece of paper from Logan and reading what it said to the others. “You know too much.”

Roman peeks at the paper, frowning when it obviously didn’t say both those things. He snatches it from Virgil and clears his throat before speaking. “You were better off clueless.”

And of course, it wasn’t the same for Patton. Roman shows him the message, trying to prove that he had the “real” message. Patton reads it for the rest of them, a shiver running down his spine upon uttering the words that were written in such a familiar handwriting.

“I didn’t think you’d last without me. I see now that I was wrong. We’ll meet again.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist :: @ai-incarnate @anon-e-has-a-tmblr @baddeceit-ohsorrydeceit @but-jesuschrist-im-never-good @captainlilithrouge @cats-fandom-universe-room @cryptidcherrry @deceit-is-a-lil-bitch @comicsimpson @easyidentification @effortiswhatmatters @human-being-kinda @ilovemygaydad @insanetentacles @keeshy-ekho @lemon-towns @lesbian-aesthics-are-my-aesthic @lokisuggests @lopaviro @lucifer-just-needs-a-hug @mychemicalpanicattheemo @nottodaylogic @prplzorua @roanoaks @rosepyxels@starrycari @strickenwithclairvoyance @sanders-sides-rebloger@suyun-doo @therealmoshar@theultimatemomfriend @unicornlogansanders @what-even-is-thiss@whizzie72 @why-should-i-tell-youu2

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #ts fic #fanfic #human au #horror fic #SPILLR #tw glitch

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sammyspreadyourwings · 6 years ago

Note

For that propmpt list thing: "“19. There’s so much blood." Whoever you want to choose but I'm partial to Roger and Brian (and your Brian whump is great sooo)

19) There’s so much blood

I’m glad you’re enjoying my stuff. Sorry, it took so long to get this out.

Circa, 1781 (probably, eh they’re super famous rn)

Side note, more Brian whump but in a different style than how I’ve written every other piece!

Roger is riding high on the adrenaline from the concert. He barely has the focus to stop for a few autographs with fans along the rope line. All he wants to do is get Brian between his legs when they get back to the hotel room and celebrate. Brian grabs his arm harshly. He’s yanked back in surprise and he turns to snap at Brian to ask what the big idea.

It happens in slow motion.

As much as he hates clichés it’s the only description that fits. His eyes flit up to Brian’s face who’s staring worriedly into the crowd opposite of them. Then a man slips under the rope and rushes forward. The momentum from Brian’s tug sends Roger sprawling back. Roger winces as he lands awkwardly on his wrist.

Everything speeds up. He hears John’s confused statement, a sharp gasp from the fans and the man taking off with security tailing him. Roger shoves himself up and over to Brian. His heart is in his throat despite not knowing what happened. He ducks under Brian’s arm and sucks in hair when he sees darkening fabric.

It doesn’t seem like the fans noticed anything beyond some guy breaking the rope line. Brian’s face is quickly paling. Roger knows they need to go, and to cause as little seen as possible. He straightens with Brian’s arm around him to make it more like his giving comfort than supporting his weight.

“Freddie, John! Let’s go before someone else tries something.”

John seems to pick up on the stress in his voice. Roger watches John push at Freddie’s elbow which is enough to get the singer moving again. Freddie looks at him confused and Roger shakes his head and tilts it towards the waiting car. As they walk Brian lets out soft grunts of pain. Once they’re far enough away from paparazzi and fans, Roger slots his hand over where he saw the fabric darkening.

He gags at the sticky feeling.

John supports Brian from the back as Roger climbs in first. He looks worried but is just as confused as Freddie about Roger’s insistence that they move. Brian climbs in clumsily and his eyes are sagging. Roger presses his hand harder against the spot. Both John and Freddie climb in, Freddie taking the front as usual and John squishing in between the door and Brian.

The second the door is closed Roger let’s out a sigh of relief.

“We need to go to the hospital.”

He sees the driver peer through the review mirror and nods in acknowledgment. Meanwhile, both John and Freddie are staring at him as though he’s lost his mind. John reaches over so that his hand is over Roger’s and his eyes widen.

“Shit.”

“Keep pressure,” Roger orders.

As soon as John’s hand is steady on the wound Roger reaches up and cups Brian’s head in his hands.

“I think he may have gotten stabbed by that fan,” he hears John explain.

That makes sense. Roger is surprised his mind didn’t immediately make that connection.

Hazel eyes are glossy, but they’re trying to focus on Roger, “Brian, hey.”

He sees the lips move as though Brian’s attempting to speak. Roger nods.

“That’s it, just pay attention to me, sweetheart. There you go.”

Roger isn’t sure what he’s saying, but words tumble out of his mouth just to keep Brian’s attention. He’s not sure if falling asleep is a bad thing with blood loss, but he’s calmer with Brian at least aware of what’s going on.

“There’s so much blood,” John mutters.

His heart jumps into his throat. He glances down and sees that blood is lazily leaking through both hands that John has on Brian’s abdomen. He vaguely recalls that means a vein or artery was hit. Not a surprise considering it’s in the torso, but Roger’s panic spikes.

“Only a couple more minutes until we’re at the hospital,” Freddie calls back.

“Just hang on. Okay, Brian. Just keep staring at me. That’s it, love.”

“Could do that for the rest of my life,” Brian whispers, dazed, “you’re so pretty.”

Roger does roll his eyes. Even in the grips of blood loss, Brian is still a sweetheart. Although the slurring in his voice is alarming.

He nearly falls off the seat when the car slides to a stop. Roger hears Freddie say something like he’s going to go get someone. John’s cursing is steadily growing worse. Brian’s eyes are staying closed for a longer amount of time. He panics and tugs sharply on a curl, he barely gets a reaction.

“No, Bri. Brian. Don’t sleep. Don’t do that. Come on, love. Listen to me. Please listen to me.”

John steps out to let a nurse into the car. Roger folds himself over Brian’s body in panic when he feels the nurse attempt to slide Brian out of the car. Conversation flows over his head, but then someone is wrapping their arms around his chest and pulling him in the opposite direction of Brian. He kicks and squirms but the arms manage to keep him away while Brian is loaded onto the stretcher.

Roger dimly realizes that it’s Freddie that’s holding him. He forgets how strong the singer is. Once he’s calmed down enough, Freddie sets him back on the ground and he sags into John’s arms. John to his credit barely stumbles and cradles him.

He’s also not sure how they get into the waiting room, because his legs aren’t working and also Freddie must have sweet-talked someone into giving them a private room because Roger doesn’t feel anyone’s eyes on him. John hasn’t let him go yet, and the blood is starting to dry and crust on his hands.

It makes them itchy, but he knows that he can’t stand.

Freddie returns with a warm cloth and starts swiping at his palm. The singer is speaking, but there’s a buzzing in his ears making it impossible for him to understand what’s being said. It’s like a record skip of Brian’s breathing growing weaker. He hopes that the knife missed Brian’s lungs, but he doesn’t know what else it would’ve hit instead. Intestines? That would increase the risk for infection, and considering Brian already has a weakened immune system.

John’s arms get uncomfortably tight. Roger flicks his eyes to John and understands that it was the bassist way of making sure that he doesn’t fall into another panic attack. Freddie picks up one of John’s hand and starts wiping away the blood. Brian’s blood. Christ, there was a lot.

Roger wonders with morbid curiosity how much he lost.

They sit in the waiting room, he couldn’t tell you for how long, just watching people trickle in and out of the uncomfortable seats. His logical mind was telling him that they had to take Brian to surgery and they’re more focused on fixing him than comforting the family, but the emotional part of his mind that watched Brian’s eyes roll into the back of his head at the last second is telling him that the staff is just stalling so they don’t have to tell Queen that their guitarist is dead.

John doesn’t let him go, and Roger is grateful.

Eventually, a soft knock stirs them all from their anxiety. Roger glances over the doctor, the man is older, maybe in his fifties and his posture is neutral. He can’t figure out what news he’s about to be told. His fingers dig into John’s arm as the forearm tightens around his stomach.

“Well,” the doctor says, “the surgery was successful in repairing the artery. Mr. May is in recovery now. He lost a lot of blood, were able to replace it. He’s on a round of IV antibiotics because the weapon did perforate his intestine. He will make a full recovery.”

He sags against John.

“I’ll have a nurse take you up to his recovery room. Mr. May will be waking up within the next hour or so.”

Roger wants to hug this doctor, “thank you.”

He nods, “someone upstairs will go over this with you, but make sure that he refrains from strenuous activity and rests frequently. His stitches will be examined in two weeks for removal.”

He feels the weight lift from his shoulders. Roger wants to collapse but he wants to see Brian first.

The nurse takes them up to the new room, babbling excitedly about how she got to meet Queen. It’s endearing but also Roger is annoyed by the chatter because he wants people to be professional when dealing with Brian. Thankfully, Freddie is still playing up his frontman persona and is able to take the brunt of the girl’s attention.

Roger lets out another long breath when they finally reach Brian’s room. He rushes to his side and picks up Brian’s hand on the bedsheet. There’s no reaction, not that he expected on and he raises the palm to his lips.

“Wake up soon, dearest.”

#maylor #ask meme fill #prompt meme fill #ment: medical #ment: blood #more Brian whump #I'm so sorry Bri #technically not a cliffhanger #but also a cliffhanger #drabble #claracivry

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pack-the-pack · 7 years ago

Note

Hey! I'm pretty new to the omegaverse and just had a question. What happens if an alpha bites/marks an omega against their will?

Harô there, anon. And welcome to the dumpster fire that is ABO lol. As for your question: Well, I think it depends on some factors. Let me explain. When an Alpha bites an Omega that is known as a claim mark. So as the name implies, by biting on an Omega’s scent glands what the Alpha is doing is claiming them as their Omega. Usually this is all fine and dandy, but since your question is not about those, here are the possibilities:

The Omega will be tied biologically to the Alpha for an undetermined ammount of time.

I say undetermined because that depends for how long the Alpha bit into their glands, if the Omega has or hasn’t been bitten before by another Alpha, Beta or Omega, and if the Omega is already mated or not. See, when an Alpha and an Omega bite each other what they’re doing is introducing a set of proteins to their mate’s body through their saliva. Which will in turn mingle with their own proteins/natural scent and signals to their brains that this is their mate. Their brain then signals to the pituitary gland that they must start producing a scent that incorporates this new protein as part of their own new scent. This is why one’s scent changes when they mate with one another.

What this does is making your body create a sort of “addiction” in this new protein your mate has. Thus, why one craves for their mate’s scent when in distress. One starts to see said scent as essential for their survival and well-being. When only one of the two people involved has said arrangement, that causes an imbalance in the power dynamics between the two. An Omega (or Alpha) that is bitten against their will, will be held captive of this unfortunate fate. Having their bodies depending on the other person’s scent and presence without having the reciprocity of the act.

The Omega (or Alpha/Beta) will feel incredibly insecure. They smell like the Alpha but the Alpha doesn’t smell like them. It is a sign of rejection. And for an Omega to be rejected by their mate is a serious detriment for their quality of life and mental state. Thus, why mating it is not taken lightly by people (at least in my verse). It is something that must be made with mutual understanding and consent, because it’s not just a bite mark on one’s neck. It is something that will interfere with the way your body responds to the world and the way your mind works on itself.

To bite someone (regardless of dynamics) unwillingly is a serious crime and carries terrible consequences. From more than 30 years in prison to life imprisonment. Some people in-universe would be even capable of arguing that mating is an immoral act on itself because of its intrusive nature (But that is an argument for another time).

Regardless of any factor previously mentioned at the beginning, I think that anyone that is bitten will be temporarily addicted to the perpetrator’s presence. Which doesn’t mean that they are enslaved to the thought or that they’ll live every minute of every hour only craving that. That’s not what I mean at all. It means that they’ll still be operating as their normal self, but deep down their body is calling for something else, something missing. Even more so whenever they are faced with a particularly devastating or challenging situation. But honestly speaking I think that this extreme dependence would not exist in 99% of mated couples and here’s why.

“Since mating works like a “drug dependency” One just craves more of it the more they become immune to its previous effect”.

The Ammount of bites one receives and how long they are attached DOES matter.

Much like smoking a cigarette once doesn’t make you a smoker, being bitten once by one person doesn’t make you chained to her forever. If I recall correctly I read in a fanfiction (Dirty Little Secret, I think), how forced biting could affect an Omega when done for extended periods of time. There the bites were inflicted on an unmarked, unmated, young and scared Omega through the period of several weeks. This created an addiction that permanently linked the Omega to the Alpha. When he was finally rescued, the bond was already made and reinforced so many times that even intense rehab and neglect of the substance didn’t really make it go away. His mind was no longer clouded by the excessive ammount of “substance” within his body that made him crave for the horrible Alpha that had done that to him and he had regained his autonomy in every way possible at principle. All except for his bodily one. At least not entirely.

That is because his circumstances were incredibly unfortunate and much easier to take advantage of. He had just recently presented, which made his body unbalanced with all the new changes, making it easier to temper with and to tarnish. He was not mated, which means he had not yet created a romantic association within his brain with another Alpha, Beta or Omega yet. In addition, he was unmarked, which ment his body had never been introduced to said procedure before. His body and mind were a blank canvas yet to be filled with various experiences and slowly develop into its own behaviour. However, this was stripped from him the moment someone pumped his veins full with unwarranted excessive amounts of Alpha juice.

The “solution”, was simply intense rehab and keeping the Omega away from said person as best as they could. But the damage had already been done, and he remained unmated. The fact that his body needed to be claimed again when in intense distress didn’t change. Thus, the only other Alpha in his life took upon himself and started to bite him instead whenever the Omega was in an intense state of depravation and emotional recklessness. This brought upon many problems. This not only didn’t fix the problem by simply replacing Alpha 1 for Alpha 2, it also made it that everytime the Alpha bit him to give him relief, he was only reinforcing the idea in the Omega’s mind that they were mates. Which they weren’t (at that point at the story at least). So there was no real “solution”. It ended up being a “the lesser of two evils” situation.

It’s also worth noting that this is an extreme case. The worse of all bad scenarios. In which there is no real solution other than replace one addiction for another. For most other people that pass through this and don’t fit these circumstances, the dependency is not as bad. It will vary in intensity from person to person depending on their age and when they presented, if they already have a lot of social links with other Alphas or not, if they are mated, if they were bitten before, etc. So I’m confident in saying that even if a person was bitten unwillingly by someone, through rehab, therapy and allowing their bodies to heal on their own and with the help of their significant others the effect is not permanent.

And after they are clean and the mark has completely vanish they will no longer be dependent of the perpetrator. There’s a catch though. Their scent will be permanently changed. Much like mated people don’t go back to their original scent entirely even after their own claim marks had vanished, a person that was unwillingly bitten won’t either. Their bodies already assimilated the substance as their own. And although it becomes weaker with time, it will never vanish entirely. Like a somber, invisible scar that they cannot get rid of.

The only way of doing so is having another person claim you again. Much like the previous example I gave, that will gradually “overwrite” the scent of the other Alpha. Your body will learn to crave something else and to produce something more effective than the previous “claimer” had given you. Something fresher and that makes you happier.

Treatments and living unmated but dependent.

I do think however that one can have a fulfilling life without having a need to mate or to be bitten ever again. Say that in your verse you din’t want the solution to be replacing A with B. Then fine, why not replace A with B to Z? I’m fairly certain that medical care could come up with either a donation system or a synthetic replacement. In the case of the latter, you’d have the addiction fulfilled without being dependent of a single person, becayse your body doesn’t even have time to create an addiction with the new Alpha before you introduce it to another one. And in the second you don’t even need and actual Alpha to fulfil said addiction. The synthetic can do it on it’s own. Obviously the outcome would depend on which one you’d respond better to. Nevertheless, the important thing to keep in mind is that, like this, this terrible incident would not mean one’s entire life would change because of it. They can still live peacefully with all their autonomy and with barely any meltdowns until they found someone go take the wheel. And if that person never came, they’d be fine too.

I think that as tragic as all of this sounds, it is not the end for anyone. One could still have options and you could still be happy. No claim mark in the world can keep that away from those who are willing to overcome such ugly realities and strive for a better future.

Holy fuck this was long >.> I’m sorry for rambling for so long. I hope I didn’t lost you half way through this mess. I also apologize if I got any biological fact wrong or if my writing is confusing. I was tired when I answered this. But I did my best to correct all the mistakes I could spot on a second read. I really hope this clarified all doubts you could have.

And remember this is just my verse, you can have this sort of thing happen however you want in your verse. There are no wrong interpretations. I did enjoy answering this though. So thank you very much for the ask ^^.

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askdarus · 6 years ago

Photo

“Out of the barn!” Dante, a Hilltop soldier, yelled, “We get pinned in here, we’re dead!”

The dead were surrounding them. It had been their first solo mission without their group leader, Kal, and they’d been taking a break the heard came out of practically thin air, completely silent one moment and loud, screaming growls from walkers the next.

And they were closing in.

“We can fight our way out, Dante, but we don’t know what we’re fighting our way into!” Marco called, fighting beside Ken.

“Doesn’t matter right now!” Dante yelled to him, “In here, we’re as good as dead! All the exits were blocked!”

They cut through the walkers, swords swinging and guns banging loudly with bullets courtesy of Eugene Porter.

“Oh, hell,” Dante breathed out when the sea of walkers continued, “Get in formation!” he yelled.

“Really need more people for this to work with how many they are!” Ken yelled, pressing his back to his two fellow scouts.

“We’ll only do five steps, stop complaining before we die!” Dante snapped at him, “Get hacking!”

They called out their steps loudly, just like Kal had taught them all the years ago when he trained them. It had taken years, but he finally let them go out without him. And they were good, despite the normal plan calling for five people. They cut the walkers down easily, the ones that were dead longer falling easily.

“THAT ONE HAS A KNIFE!” Marco yelled, pointing with his sword at the walker he saw.

“That’s impossible!” Dante yelled, “Keep fighting! Let’s end this before more come-”

“Wh-” Marco yelled when the walker got closer, slashing at him, “They’re attacking us! They have fucking knives, Dante!”

“Just fucking run!” Ken yelled, breaking the formation and starting to turn. But before he could, the walker shoved the knife into his back.

“KEN!” Marco screamed.

“I heard you!” Dante screamed at the walker, “I heard you talk!”

“We can kill too,” it hissed at him, shoving the knife through Ken’s neck, making him fall to the ground.

Dante slashed at another walker, cutting it’s head clean off with his sword, “What the hell are you?!” he screamed, “How can you talk?!”

“We whisper and the dead don’t mind,” it hissed at him, “You’ll see...you’ll be dead soon yourself, then you’ll see.”

“Not today,” Dante said, slashing his sword, though it was met with the walker’s knife.

The two fought, slashing, until Dante finally shoved his sword through the thing’s head.

Dante stood there, breathing heavily and looked at Ken, who was shaking over Ken’s fallen body, “Ken...Ken, we have to g-”

He was cut off when something hit him in the back of the head and everything went black.

Paul was completely zoned out, if he was being honest. Sure, he’d never tell Maggie that, but he really hated these meetings with the Hilltop leaders. They were always asking something and they always needed to make a decision on something.

“Jesus?” Maggie asked, pulling him out of his daydream.

“Hmm?” Paul looked up at her.

“We were talking about expanding the fields by a foot after winter,” Aaron whispered in his ear, “She needed your vote.”

“Oh, uh...sure,” Paul said, smiling at the farmer in front of them, “Let us know if you need anything else.”

They nodded to them before walking out.

Paul looked over at Maggie, “How many more?” he demanded.

Maggie looked down at the paper in front of her, “Ten more people. Pay attention, Paul,” she sighed.

“Maggie,” Paul sighed back at her, exaggerating his own, “I’m pretty sure he just droned on for ten minutes about expanding the fields by a foot.”

“Nine minutes and thirty seconds,” Enid piped up from where she was taking notes beside Hershel, who was sitting beside her working on his homework.

Paul rolled his eyes, “I nominate that I’m taken off this board.”

“Wait, we can vote to be taken off the board?” Aaron asked quickly.

“No!” Maggie said quickly, pointing at them both, “There needs to be three on here so we don’t have any ties and you’re the only two who can sit here long enough to do this. It’s once a year, you’re gonna sit here and do your job.”

Paul groaned, putting his head on the table.

When the next person came in, Paul found a source of entertainment.

His godson, Hershel Rhee, was working on his homework at one of the empty tables, waiting on his mother to be done with the meeting.

Paul glanced over to Maggie and coughed loudly, making Hershel look up at him.

Paul smirked and crossed his eyes, making a face at Hershel.

Hershel snickered, but hid it behind his hand.

Aaron elbowed him as the person left and Harlan came in with Alex and Siddiq, getting his attention.

Finally, something interesting.

“Hey,” Maggie said suspiciously, “I thought this meeting was just supposed to be with Doc Carson.”

The three medical men in front of her shifted awkwardly before Harlan elbowed Siddiq.

“Uh…” Siddiq said, taking out a paper from his pocket. He put it on the table in front of them and cleared his throat, “We’ve already ran this by the construction crew, they’d be on board with it, starting in the spring.”

Maggie looked down at the paper and Paul scooted over so he could as well.

Drew on the paper were houses, including writing on one building in curly writing that had hearts around it, that said “Hospital.”

Maggie looked up and raised an eyebrow.

“We could spend the winter getting materials,” Alex added, pointing at the paper, “I drew the hospital,” he added with a smile at Aaron.

Paul rolled his eyes and looked down at the paper, “Oh, Maggie, those houses would be amazing…” he trailed off, thinking about his eyesore of a trailer, packed with too many people.

Maggie sighed, looking down at the paper, “We’d have to do a wall extension project first, we won’t be able to sustain this many houses without doing an expansion.”

“It’s been years, the walls need updated anyways,” Aaron added, “The wood is rotting…” he trailed off, looking at Maggie hopefully.

He was probably just tired of the creaking floor that was really just the roof of their trailer.

Maggie nodded and smiled, looking down, “I’ll go over the blueprints...add it in. We’ll have to see where we’re going to extend the walls to. I’ll start to talk to the crew that we’ll have on it.”

Aaron grinned at Paul.

“So much better than the person who wanted to extend the crops by a foot,” Paul mumbled, getting elbowed by Aaron again.

“Anything else?” Maggie asked, smiling now too. She always got that smile when it was something that was going to expand the Hilltop.

“Uh…” Siddiq looked at Harlan.

“Oh!” Harlan said quickly, “The survivors you brought in last night...they’re all healthy. Yumiko is a little banged up, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“Good,” Maggie said, “Daryl will take care of their weapons and keepin’ an eye on them.”

“Also we have about fifty things we’re low on and we’re going to need to stock up for the winter,” Alex deadpanned, holding out a list.

Paul groaned, putting his head on the table again.

“Good?” Daryl called loudly.

“Yeah!” a little voice chirped back.

Daryl jogged back into the house, tripping over a few things when he walked inside. He stepped over Snowball, who was lying in the middle of the floor, narrowly managing to miss one of her kittens as well. He walked back to the kids room and checked the window, making sure Richie had definitely made sure it had been weather sealed for the window.

“Good job, buddy,” Daryl said, high-fiving him. He looked over to Meredith and the nine year-old was lying in her bed, reading a book, “You wanna help?”

Meredith looked up at them and shrugged lazily, “I’m reading,” she said, at least giving him an answer.

Daryl rolled his eyes, “Okay, well me and Rich are gonna head over to the storage and get the rest of our weatherproofin’ stuff. Don’t leave the trailer or answer the door if ya don’t know ‘em.”

Meredith raised eyebrow, “Dad, you’re going to be, like, twenty feet away. I’ll be fine.”

“Get your aunt if ya need anything too,” Daryl said, ignoring her brushing off his worries. He turned back to his son, “Get your coat, we’re gonna go get the storm windows for the rest ‘a the house.”

Richie sighed and went out to grab his coat.

Daryl ruffled Meredith’s hair, “You feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” Meredith sighed, “Hate the cold though.”

Daryl laughed, “Yeah, you and your daddy,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, “You worried about somethin’?”

Meredith closed her book and flopped back, “Me and Gracie were takin’ a walk the other day and Doc Carson and Doc Alex were outside the trailer gettin’ it ready for winter,” she explained, “Doc Alex mentioned...something. He didn’t know we were listening though.”

Daryl tensed, “What’d he say?” he asked immediately.

“He was tellin’ Doc Carson that he’s worried about daddy ‘cause of the winter...Doc Carson said it would be fine, b-but Doc Alex brought up that he almost died once,” Meredith said in a small voice, “Is that true?”

Daryl pursed his lips, “Look,” he sighed, “When your daddy was little, he, uh…” he trailed off, trying to figure out how to explain this to a nine year-old, “You know how me and your daddy aren’t your bio parents like we talked about?”

Meredith nodded.

“Well, his bio mommy did a lot of drugs when she had him in her belly,” Daryl swallowed, “It makes him a little bit weaker than us, he gets sick a little easier ‘cause his immune system isn’t as good.”

Meredith swallowed, “Why’d she do drugs?” she mumbled.

Daryl pursed his lips, “I don’t know the answer to that, sweetheart. Some people don’t mean to get into it, some people can’t help it...she might not of meant for that to happen.”

She did. Paul’s biological mother abused him for years. But he didn’t know how to bring that subject up to his daughter, especially with his own past.

“Okay,” Meredith whispered, “So...he did almost die?”

“One winter, years ago, before we had you two,” Daryl explained, “And before we had such a good medical unit. It’s why we make the trailer all winter proof, so everyone here don’t get too cold when the snow hits.”

Meredith went silent for a minute before she grinned at him, “Can I help?” she asked excitedly, “I wanna help keep us warm.”

Daryl smiled, “Yeah, go get your coat on with your brother.”

Meredith got up and ran out of the small room quickly.

Daryl sighed, scrubbing his hands against his face. When he walked out, Violette was leaning in the hallway, her arms crossed.

“You handled that well,” Paul’s adopted sister told him, a smile on her face, “He wouldn’t have been able to explain it that well.”

“Woulda handled it better,” Daryl sighed, glancing down the small hallway to make sure the kids were getting their coats on, “Would had something a psychologist would say to ‘em...woulda made more sense.”

“I think you explained it well,” Violette smiled, glancing down to make sure the kids weren’t listening, “Not to change the subject, but…” she trailed off, taking a small box from her pocket, “Look what I got Earl to make me.”

Daryl looked down and grinned when he saw a small, golden ring, “Really?”

Violette nodded, “I’m going to propose to her after the fair.”

Daryl nodded, “Lily’s so excited for it, it’ll be the icing on the cake,” he laughed and pulled her into a hug, something he wouldn’t have dreamed of doing years ago, “M’happy for ya.”

Violette hugged him back and sighed, “Thanks, man,” she said before pulling away and leaning back to look at the kids, “Be good for your dad, goofs!” she called before smiling and going back to her room, closing the curtain behind her.

Daryl walked out, grabbing his own jacket and zipping up both the kids’ jackets for them, “Okay, let’s get goin’,” he said, walking out.

As he walked across the yard, both Richie and Meredith took one of his hands and Meredith swung their arms as they walked, skipping. Richie just walked at Daryl’s pace, keeping quiet.

Richie was always the more shy one.

Daryl watched Magna’s group at the guest trailer. Magna was sitting on the porch with Yumiko and the door was open; Daryl could see the curtains were drawn and there were lights on inside, along with all the cots that the room usually had.

“I like them,” Richie said suddenly.

Daryl looked down at him, “Huh?”

“We gotta trust new people or we’ll never grow,” Richie shrugged, “S’what daddy says at least. You should trust ‘em too.”

Daryl gave him a half smile and let go of his hand briefly to ruffle his blonde hair, “Too smart for how young you are, kid,” he said before taking his hand again, going towards the storage shed.

Kal walked into the room after their meeting had went into break and sighed, “Guys, we have a problem.”

“What is it?” Paul asked.

“Marco, Dante, and Ken are late to get back,” Kal sighed, “I knew I shouldn’t have sent them out without a lead, this is my fault-”

“No, you’ve trained them all you could,” Maggie cut him off, “They’re your group, you should go to look for them.”

Kal nodded, “I know the route they’re taking and where they were going. I’m sorry to cut the meeting short, but my men are out there and I need to make sure they’re okay.”

“Do what you need to do,” Maggie nodded at him.

Kal nodded again, “Thank you. I’ll pack up and leave after my gate shift, I’ll stop in before I leave,” he said before jogging out.

Paul sent Aaron a worried glance, “It’s not like Dante to not show up on time…” he trailed off nervously, “Should we go with?”

Aaron shook his head, “Nah...he’ll be fine. Dante’s with Marco and Ken, they probably just convinced him to stop off and dick around somewhere, knowing those two.”

Paul nodded, “You’re probably right.”

“No getting out of this meeting,” Maggie told them, “We’re talking about the greenhouse extension next, that’ll keep you both focused. Dante will be fine...I know him.”

Daryl laughed as he watched Meredith and Richie push the cart with the storm windows on it together, both of them running. He looked back at the guest trailer and saw just Magna sitting on the steps now, when his eyes caught something on her boot.

“Hey, you guys push that back and start takin’ em in, I’ll be there in a minute,” Daryl told them and then called, “And don’t let none of the animals out, I ain’t chasin’ after ‘em! You let ‘em out, you’re doin’ it.”

“‘Kay!” Richie called, still running with the cart.

Daryl knew he’d be chasing after at least one of the animals within the next hour, but this was more important.

Daryl walked over and leaning on the railing of the steps, “Hand it over,” he said, putting out his hand.

Magna raised an eyebrow at him.

“Look, I know ya don’t like the rule, but no weapons for the next few weeks. We got kids here, ya gotta understand,” Daryl said, putting his hand out, “Trust me, if there’s a breach or ya need it, we’ll give it to ya.”

Magna narrowed her eyes and started to take off her belt before handing over the buckle, which was actually a knife, “Whatever,” she said simply, staring out at the Hilltop.

“Necklace too,” Daryl told her.

Magna sighed, “How the hell-”

“Got a husband who hides knives all over his body an’ all through the house, I’m good at spottin’ ‘em,” Daryl gave her a small smirk.

Magna took off her necklace and handed him the small blade, “Me and him should hang out...maybe trade some.”

“After the two weeks are up, sure he’d love that,” Daryl said, pocketing the knives, “I’ll keep these safe, I promise,” he told her, “They got any.”

“Nah,” Magna said, shaking her head, “They didn’t even know I had these ones...don’t blame ‘em.”

“Hell, I don’t even blame you,” Daryl shrugged, “I get it. I used ta be against all these places that took your weapons...that’s why we don’t do it for too long here. We’ve had back experiences...we get it,” he nodded.

Magna met his eyes and nodded as well.

There was something there...the knowing that they had something in common.

“We’re seen the worst, especially at the beginning,” Magna whispered, “Our fair share of crazy places...but this place...it seems real. It seems like you all are actually doing something here.”

“What we’re tryin’ ta do,” Daryl nodded and looked at their trailer, “We’re winter proofin’ trailers today. After I finish mine, I’ll stop over to yours and show ya how it’s done so ya’ll won’t freeze. Winters can get rough around here,” he said before nodding to her, going to walk away.

“Hey!” Magna called, standing up and jogging the small distance to him, “Thank you,” she told him before holding out her hand, “We weren’t formally introduced, I’m Magna.”

Daryl nodded, “Daryl...Daryl Dixon-Rovia,” he said, giving her a smile.

Paul was walking back to the house, smiling when he saw the kids outside with Daryl, putting window covers on. As he looked around, he saw everyone doing different jobs. The doctors were outside of the medical trailer, getting things ready for the winter kids were running and playing in piles of leaves.

He was about to call to his family, but Kal yelled from the top of the gate.

“OH MY GOD!” Kal screamed, “MARCO!” he yelled, jumping down.

Eduardo opened the gate as fast as he could and Kal was already climbing down.

When the gates opened, Marco was on the ground, bruised and covered in blood.

“In the house, go!” Daryl told the kids, giving them a light shove towards the door. He grabbed his crossbow from the porch and started to get the stray walkers as Harlan ran over, Alex following close behind.

“Gonna need the stretcher!” Harlan called to Siddiq, who ran inside the trailer to get it.

Paul’s eyes widened when Harlan helped Marco up and a walker stumbled into them. He ran over, taking the knife from his boot and shoving it through it’s skull, throwing it to the ground.

“Go, I got this!” Paul told him, cutting into the other two stray ones that were nearby before going inside the gate.

As the gate closed, a walker’s hand stuck through, getting closed into the gate.

Paul took out his knife and cut the hand off before walking back to where they were now putting Marco on the stretcher, looking down at the man worriedly.

What the hell happened to him?

“He’s stable,” Harlan told Maggie and Paul, walking outside of the trailer to where the two were waiting, “No ideas about Dante and Ken though. He’s not saying much.”

“Let us try to talk to him,” Paul said, “Maybe we can get something.”

“I can’t recommend that right now,” Harlan shook his head, “Alex just finished his stitches and cleaning the rest of his wounds, he’s on a high dosage of pain medication for tonight. He’ll be watched over in shifts. You’ll have to talk to him tomorrow,” he explained.

Maggie nodded and looked at Paul, “Get home. Kal’s out searching tonight...I’ll wait up for him to get back,” she said, touching his shoulder, “I’ll let you know if I hear any news.”

Paul smiled at her, “Okay...doc, let me know if you need any help, I’ll just be at home,” he said before going back to the trailer.

He entered the trailer and Daryl was just setting dinner down on the coffee table in the living room. They only had room for a dining table with four chairs and with Aaron and Gracie living with them, along with Violette and Lily, there was no way they could all sit down to a family dinner if they weren’t in the living room.

“Smells good,” Paul said, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks for cooking.”

“Aaron helped. We made spaghetti,” Daryl smiled at him, kissing him back, “How’s Marco?”

“Harlan says he’s stable...no word on Ken or Dante though,” Paul sighed, “Kal went to search, Maggie’s going to wait up.”

Daryl nodded and sighed, “Best we can do right now, I guess.”

“Daddy!” Richie cheered, running out of their room with Meredith, throwing himself into his legs and hugging him, “I helped cold proof the house!”

“Me too!” Meredith said quickly, hugging his legs as well and smiling up at him.

“Well, thank you two,” Paul said, kneeling down to their height, “What else did you do today?”

“I finished another book!” Meredith said excitedly, “I can’t wait to tell Lily when she gets home!”

“I’m sure she’ll be very happy that you’re all done,” Paul grinned.

“I took Daisy for a walk,” Richie grinned as well, “She tried ta chase a squirell but I held on!” he said proudly.

“Well, good job to you too,” Paul smiled at him, “Hey, go wash your hands for dinner, I’m going to call Gracie and Aaron down so we can eat.”

The two ran off quickly.

“Where’s Vi and Lily?” Paul asked.

“Barrington, they needed to work on some lesson plans for class, so they’re usin’ the library there,” Daryl explained, “I already made ‘em plates and put ‘em away.”

“Thank you, dear,” Paul said, kissing him again. He grabbed the kitchen chair and stood on it, pounding on the ceiling a few times, “Dinner!” he called.

He heard footsteps, then the upstairs door open and close. A few seconds later, Gracie ran inside, followed by Aaron.

Hours later, the medical trailer was dimly lit, with just the desk lamp on. They’d turned it off, so Marco could get some rest. Harlan, Siddiq, and Enid all went to their respective homes, going to rest. Alex had first watch, so he was working on his notes by the small desk light.

A small groan snapped him out of his bored daze at his notes and he turned around on the stool, rolling it over to Marco’s bed, “Marco? It’s Alex, can you hear me?”

Marco grabbed him by the front of his shirt in a tight grip with bruised knuckles, “They were...they were talking.”

“Who was talking?” Alex asked quickly.

“The walkers,” Marco breathed out, “The walkers were talking,” he gasped before he drifted off again, eyes drooping closed.

The kids were all in bed now, and most of the adults too. Paul was asleep beside him, sprawled out on the bed with his arm across Daryl’s chest.

Daryl was still running his hand through Paul’s hair, not yet asleep, when he heard talking outside.

There wasn’t exactly a noise curfew at the Hilltop, but everyone was usually really quiet. It was harder to fight walkers in the dark, harder to track them, and noise just drew them near.

Daryl slowly got out of bed, being sure not to wake Paul up and he quietly grabbed his crossbow and jacket, going outside. He twisted the knob so it would close quietly and he walked over to where there was a small group, Maggie included.

“What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked.

“Daryl,” Maggie walked over to him quickly, “You need to listen to me-”

The group moved slightly and Daryl finally managed to catch a glimpse of why they were there.

Dwight and Sherry were standing at the gate, one child holding Dwight’s hand and another holding Sherry’s.

“What the hell?” Daryl breathed out.

CAST

Tom Payne as Paul “Jesus” Dixon-Rovia Norman Reedus as Daryl Dixon-Rovia Ross Marquand as Aaron Raleigh

Elodie Yung as Violette Rovia Tessa Thompson as Lily Marie Teller

Samuel Joslin as Richie Dixon-Rovia Zendaya Coleman as Meredith Dixon-Rovia Anabelle Holloway as Gracie Raleigh

Lauren Cohan as Maggie Rhee Katelyn Nacon as Enid Rhee

GUEST CAST

Diego Boneta as Dante Andrew Scott as Ken Gustavo Gomez as Marco

James Chen as Kal Jesse Spencer as Alex R Keith Harris as Harlan Avi Nash as Siddiq

Nadia Hilker as Magda Eleanor Matsuura as Yumiko

#anb;#cutscene #cutscenes

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saviorgoddessastrid · 6 years ago

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How To Write An Interesting Deity

So, I get some commentary about how Astrid’s an incredibly well-written deity OC, and I have a couple of friends who I talk to about our mutual frustrations with how folks generally RP or just write deity OCs. Given how I am a guy who wants others to improve, I’m going to detail how to come up with a deity that folks are going to be actually interested in. Fair warning, this is a lot simpler than it sounds, and most of it is going to be under the cut due to the length. So, let’s begin, shall we?

So, when we talk about gods that are being written by folks, there’s a general set of pitfalls you’ll see people fall into, what I shall refer to as The Classic Blunders. These are pitfalls you see almost everybody who writes a deity do, and they‘re mistakes you should probably avoid if you want your deity to be interesting.

Classic Blunder #1: The Power Fantasy.

Let’s not kid ourselves here, deities are an easy Power Fantasy to write, because gods are inherently overpowered beings and you can easily excuse their OPness under their divine status. However, consider this: Everyone and their mother knows this fact, and is using it for that very purpose.

With this Classic Blunder, you commonly see folks creating a deity with the express purpose of being The Strongest(tm) and having little personality outside of Being The Strongest(tm). This isn’t exclusively a mistake done by deity writers, and honestly it speaks more of one’s inexperience with RPing than it does their actual OC when it’s committed. These deities all have a single purpose: Be as ludicrously overpowered as possible, and shit on everyone else and get away with it because they’re a god and they’re taking the shit on mortals.

This may seem entertaining in the short-term, but frankly, folks aren’t going to be interested in a character who is, by all measurements, arrogant, selfish, and prone to destroying anything they want on a whim just because they can. While some folks might find entertainment in the Power Fantasy, for those of us who like good characters, this becomes an extremely frustrating topic because the vast, vast majority of deity OCs are built with this purpose in mind.

I’m not going to say not to make your deity powerful, because that is part of the purpose of gods, to be something greater than a mortal. However, instead of having your deity abuse their power and shit all over everyone else, consider the following: Instead of focusing on what they can do, focus instead on what they should do with that power.

Here’s a classic example: Folks like to ask, “If God is all-powerful and benevolent, why doesn’t He just cure every disease possible?” And while yes, the vast majority of deities could easily obliterate every possible disease out there in an instant, the long-term effect of such an action is a net-loss.

In curing every disease imaginable, not only are people left with weaker immune systems, medical science is rendered irrelevant. No new cures and breakthroughs are invented, and people have less reason to actually treat themselves when something does happen, because they have a god who has already set precedence that they can and will cure their diseases and injuries for them.

Their followers learn nothing, and ultimately slip backwards and become reliant on their god’s power to solve everyday problems because there is precedence for such a thing. That is not a beneficial thing in the long run, and gods, being totally immortal, will live to see the lasting harm of their actions.

Unless your god’s shtick is explicitly being evil or uncaring, your god is probably going to be concerned with the long-term ramifications of their actions, since they will live long enough to be concerned by them. And if they’re uncaring, they’re less likely to want to involve themselves in trivial mortal affairs.

That’s an important aspect to consider. Gods think bigger and broader in scope than mortals do, and while they have the power to change reality, whether or not the should do that is a matter of debate.

Classic Blunder #1a: Hostile Divine Negotiations

This Classic Blunder is related to the first one, and like the first one, tends to be the result of inexperience more than anything else. This Classic Blunder is mostly for crossover material. In particular, two gods interacting with each other across universes. A lot of folks who write Power Fantasy deities like to look down on other deities and make it very apparent they don’t approve of the other.

It is important to bear in mind that gods are petty, selfish creatures prone to spiting whoever offended them at a moment’s notice. Every god knows this, and even if your god is extremely powerful, they will also know that every deity has a number of allies at their back. Remember, a good chunk of bad things that happen to mortals in mythology are the results of them insulting the gods in some fashion and suffering payback, which the gods are happy to inflict. There’s no reason to believe that the gods won’t do the same for another god not of their pantheon (or even of their pantheon, depending).

As such, if your deity is going to waltz on in and start insulting another deity because you view your god as arbitrarily stronger, recognize that you’re pretty much going to, at best, get an annoyed god that wants you to go away, or at worst, an interdimensional pantheon war, which is a horrible result because war between gods is never pretty, and your god will stand to lose a lot as a result of these shenanigans.

As a result, no matter how powerful your god is, it’s generally wiser to have your god be at least neutral in tone around other gods. They may have their issues, but few gods would be reckless enough to insult another god and risk a war between pantheons, because even if they’d win, they’d lose more than they’d gain.

Classic Blunder #1b: Omnipotent Jackass

This one’s also related to the first one of Being The Strongest(tm), and this one is mostly about goddesses, particularly omnipotent goddesses. This one I see less often in RPing than the others, so much as writing, but it’s a thing that happens sometimes. I’ve noticed that several people who write omnipotent goddesses tend to have their goddess simply abuse their power, warp reality to their leisure, and be treated as the sexiest woman alive as a result of their power.

However, these sorts of characters are, to me at least, much less appealing than kind-hearted goddesses, because when you read between the lines, these characters come off as cruel, selfish, and self-centered, caring about nobody but themselves and willingly using their power to do whatever they damn well please, knowing that nobody can stop them. I can see some level of appeal in it, but I’d rather someone who has infinite power be restrained in its usage because then I know I can talk with them without them turning me into a footstool because they’re bored.

This doesn’t necessarily apply purely to sex appeal either, though it tends to be used for such, but any god who abuses their omnipotence to no end can fall into this particular Classic Blunder, especially if they’re doing it just because they can. The only real thing I can say here is that, unless you’re deliberately making your god uncaring about anyone around them, it’s probably better that they show at least some restraint in their power usage. It’s not very fun to have someone who’s omnipotent constantly warping reality to their leisure and being a dick to everyone, at least, for those of us who don’t find that stuff attractive.

Classic Blunder #1c: Amoral God

This topic is closely related to Omnipotent Jackass, but has a few distinctions. Amoral God largely has to deal with gods who are intended to be Lovecraftian in design. The problem is that these gods end up as a case of “all the power in the universe, and no personality to back it up”.

The idea behind Amoral God is that they operate on an entirely different set of morals than mortals, and thus are beyond mortal comprehension. What you typically get instead is a god that simply does what they please and has no discernible motives for anything except “It Amused Me”. These gods are extremely boring to work with because they just don’t seem interested in anything except what personally interests them, and end up being extremely one-note in personality even when you’re trying to make them interesting by making them unlike other human gods.

The only real thing I can tell you here is that vagueness does not equate to substance in and of itself. You need to go with something greater than that if you wish to be a truly interesting deity, someone who folks are going to want to learn more than that.

To give you a general tip on how to write a Lovecraftian deity: The trick with Lovecraftian gods is that their sense of morality is different from ours, but that wouldn’t make them completely incomprehensible to us. Their actions and deeds are going to seem strange to us, but they are definitely going to be consistent in their applications. When writing one of these gods, figure out what they view as right and wrong, and make it apparent that they view things in this manner. Don’t just end it at “they view things different from humans, so don’t bother trying to understand it”.

Classic Blunder #2: The Christ Problem

Now, unlike Classic Blunder #1, Classic Blunder #2 is an issue that comes at you from both writers and readers. What is The Christ Problem you might ask? The Christ Problem, as a friend of mine calls it, is the assumption that gods are inherently perfect creatures, who are either pure good or pure evil, with no room left for a middle-ground. Mistakes made are intentional, and flaws hint at them being evil.

The interesting thing about The Christ Problem is that this is a purely Judeo-Christian view of the gods, and even then, it’s a misinterpretation of the Judeo-Christian God, who was very much a flawed figure in the Bible. Outside of Christianity, gods have always been treated as flawed creatures, and never a perfect being.

Greek Mythology, one of the best examples of gods done right, was so memorable to so many because their gods were human. Every god in Greek Mythology had their flaws, their vices, their virtues, and were overall no different from their own creations with the exception of power. However, this was by no means exclusive to Greek Mythology in and of itself. Norse Mythology had much of the same issues with the gods, that they made mistakes in a desperate attempt to avert Ragnarok and, in the end, caused the very thing they were trying to avoid to occur.

When you work with The Christ Problem in combination with The Power Fantasy, there’s a noticeable split in how it’s applied. Many times, male deities are treated as pure good even though they are by all measurements cruel and arrogant, while female deities are treated as the purest of evils even if all their actions point to them being good people just because they made a few mistakes.

Counteracting The Christ Problem is very difficult because of how this is a Classic Blunder committed by readers just as often as it’s committed by writers. The only real thing I can tell you is this: No religion in the history of existence has treated their gods as truly perfect, and gods can make mistakes. As well, the idea of a god never doing a bad thing ever is totally unrealistic. As I said, gods are infinitely more likely to care about the long game, and they will be willing to do a bad thing in the short term for a long-term gain for their followers. Just remember: All the most interesting gods out there got that way because they made very human mistakes and are all the more relatable because of it.

Classic Blunder #3: Where The Religion?

This one’s a more minor nitpick, but I noticed that a lot of deity OCs don’t actually touch up on one of the most important aspects of gods: Their religion. There’s a lot you can do to craft a god’s personality by just figuring out their religion.

The vast majority of deity OCs never mention their religion, or if they do, it’s only in passing and never given some actual detail. Religion is perhaps one of the most important parts of a god, because religion is typically how gods interact with their mortal followers. Really, if you’re going to write a deity OC, you should really think deeply about what your god teaches to their followers and what they believe in. There’s a lot to cover on that topic alone. And developing a god’s religion will help you develop their personality.

When it comes to deity OCs, developing the religion is entirely optional. Many deities can get by without any actual worship, and even if they did need it, not every god is directly involved in their faith. You rarely see other mythologies delve into how exactly one should worship the gods and make it a key factor of the gods (most simply leave it at “respect the gods or else”).

However, if you’re stumped on where to take your deity and what you want them to be personality-wise, it would be quite beneficial for you to contemplate their religion. Consider what aspects your deity represents and what they teach. For instance, many War Gods are all about battle in some format, while a Sun God is typically about...well, the sun and the warmth it brings.

You need not develop an entire mythology around your deity, simply consider what they teach, what they represents, and how their domains affect them as a person. Many gods are interested in assuring that their domains remain unchallenged and that they can continue to grow in power as they work.

What to do to make your deity stand out?

Honestly, I know that this sounds like a lot of explanations, but frankly, it all boils down to one thing: Give your gods a genuine personality outside of their raw power. How do they view their worshipers? Do they love them like they would their own children, or are they distant from their followers? Do they get personally involved with their faith, or do they leave their worshipers to their own devices? For that matter, what does your god do when confronted with followers who use their faith as a shield against criticism and commit horrible misdeeds that go against the god’s own teachings?

If you can give your god a genuine personality that is about more than just having raw power, then you’re well on your way to creating a fascinating deity that truly stands out among the rabble that other deity OC writers come up with. And I assure you, folks will be infinitely more interested in interacting with your deity if they can be taken as something that seems human, despite all of their divine power.

In regards to a god’s power, the best thing to do is leave the limits defined, but the powers vague. You’ll notice in a lot of other mythologies, the gods tend not to have their powers spelled out for everyone in plain lettering, they simply give them a defined limit, and leave the rest up to one’s imagination.

Where To Start?

If you wish to write a truly interesting deity OC, I strongly suggest studying ancient religions, particularly Greek Mythology, though by all means, don’t feel it necessary to restrict yourself to it. Any religion can serve as inspiration, as long as you use its ideas respectfully, and while I myself love a good Greek Myth-inspired character, every other religion out there has something interesting to bring to the table. Pick up on the quirks and traits that the gods of other religions demonstrate outside of the Christian faith. See how the god’s domains influence them as people, and what they teach to their followers through their myths. You’ll find that it’s much easier to write an interesting god than you might think if you study how other religions did the topic.

Above all else: Don’t rely too much on your god’s raw power. Once you get to the point where your god can create planets with their mind, any higher and you’re basically just saying they’re fully omnipotent. There’s little reason to boast about a god’s accomplishments, because every god is well beyond what mortals can do, and we don’t read about gods to see them constantly boasting and belittling others. We read about them to see the unique challenges they face, and see how their very human flaws result in them committing terrible mistakes out of selfish reasons.

Gods are, by far, one of the more interesting topics to write about when you work with more than just a bland power fantasy. Really, you should try it sometime, you might find it to be more interesting and worthwhile than Power Fantasy OC God #5731257532652.

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15001700tt · 6 years ago

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Movie Nights

Junmyeon x @peachangkyvn

A/N: or reader insert if you want

Supernatural AU, Werewolf, vampire and witch AU

Word count: 2,553

Little something I did so I can get creativity back!

its also inspired by Suho’s ice cream truck by @tsucheri

Moving out is supposed to be the best experience ever, considering that most people move out to go to another city, looking for a job, adventure, and freedom from the past and the parents. But not this case, I moved out and stayed in the same town with the same past and the same friends. The streak of adventure didn't come from my surroundings,. It came from me and my selective friends that I've decided to keep. I admit moving to another city was tempting but not as tempting as my dream apartment and dream job. Which is funny because usually, that's somewhere else other than your hometown. Nevertheless, it's my life and I am content.

I have kept the same group of friends that I can with the exception of those who moved away, and it's not like I didn't make new friendships, I made plenty. My neighbors are the sweetest. My apartment building is built so that three apartments were on each floor. On my left, I had a cute college couple that is barely home but when they are, never fail to invite me over to dinners. And on my right, an old classmate from high school that is very shy.

His name is Kim Junmyeon, his shyness didn't seem to be a barrier between him and people, he had quite a lot of friends. So when he bumped into me the day I was moving in it was no surprise that he would greet me and act like we're closer than we really were. But after a while, I got used to it, because to be honest, he was just really friendly.

I got introduced into his group of friends and they welcomed me with open arms, they called it ‘ a fresh breath of estrogen’. Like I mentioned he's friends with a lot of people but his closest were 8 men who seemed more like overgrown puppies than anything.

But there was one thing he didn't share with his friends, our movie nights on Wednesdays. It was the middle of the week and somehow both of us have that day free with his busy schedule and mine. But a month after I moved in, he invited me to a movie. And I the tradition stuck. Usually, it was at mines, but if he was practically lazy, we would spend it at his.

It was purely platonic from both ends, except a little detail. In high school, I had a huge crush on him and we weren't that close to even have a conversation beyond greetings. I am a grown woman now and those feelings disappeared.

The movie nights continued, now its been almost two years and the tradition is still upheld, except now its once a month since it was getting harder with their ever-changing schedules and work. Junmyeon never really misses them but there are times where he does, and those times that he does miss, the next day he looks like a complete wreck.

It happened again so I decided that maybe his immune system is getting weaker as he exhausts himself more at work. I made him some porridge and packed some medicines before making my way next door. It was around 8 at night. Before I could even knock I heard a couple of voices inside that sounded strangely like Chanyeol and Sehun.

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“They’ve been circling your apartment building for the last couple of nights”

“so they already know that I am here”

“They can smell her on you, it won't be long before they figure it out,” Sehun stated back.

“You really have to tell her, it's getting more dangerous as the years pass, and now the damn danger is right outside your door,” Chanyeol adds in.

“But it's not even possible, tonights a full moon which means that my scent should overtake hers” he paused. His head turned to the door, his eyes widened.

I ran back into my apartment before he could open the door. My heart was beating erratically as I tried to take a few breaths to calm it. I have no idea what they meant but they sounded serious and they're never that serious and they weren't making any sense anyway.

I tried to push it far away from my mind as I can. I decided that I’ll just sleep this off.

“You know, when I said I can help you with anything, I really didn't mean it like this” a voice hissed into the night as they sneaked into her apartment.

“I never thought I’d have to do this. I thought I had enough time” another snapped back

“You had more than 6 years you dumbass!” they sounded strangely like Minseok, Junmyeon, and Sehun.

Just do it so we can get out of here in time.” a new voice sighed, Chanyeol. A snap was heard in the silence of the night. And then another one.

“It's not working.” Minseok sighed.

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol and Sehun whispered.

“There's a block between her memories and my magic, somethings wrong” he frowned.

“You said this would work if she’s sleeping” Junmyeon stated

“That’s how it works, but somehow it's not working for her.”

“Maybe I am not completely sleeping.” I turned and opened my eyes fully. The four men jumped away from my bed.

“Uhh, I can explain” Junmyeon stuttered. Sehun glanced at his watch, he nudged Chanyeol.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” I snapped.

“Uhhh were very sorry, well explain later, but we have to go” Chanyeol hurried and dragged the three other men out her front door.

“Oh no, you don't” I ran out and slammed my front door and throwing open his.

“You're explaining now.”

“You can't be here.” Minseok ushered but I wouldn't budge. My eyes were glued to the sight in front of me. Junmyeon, Chanyeol, and Sehun turned a sickly yellow before collapsing in the living room. Junmyeon laid on his couch while the tall men laid on the ground as they started to groan in pain.

“Wh-whats happening to them?” I stuttered. Normal people don't turn yellow in a span of three seconds. Minseok glanced at the clock and sighed.

“3 minutes before midnight” he murmured.

“Why is that important, they need help” I scrambled to my own apartment. I looked for any painkillers but couldn't find any, damn I need to buy some. I discarded the thought and went to get some towels and ice-cold water.

When I made my way back to the apartment, Minseok sprang up to his feet.

“You're back!” his confused voice rang in my head. I am back, in the danger zone, oh well fuck it, they need my help.

“Help me turn Chanyeol over,” I ordered him as I made my way to Chanyeol’s side to roll him on his back.

“Ohh I wouldn't touch him right now,” he warned. “He's in a lot of pain, he's also not in his right mind he mig-” he was caught off by the sound of feet entering the room. Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Jongin. They looked shocked to find me here with a towel in my hand near Chanyeol.

“Fine,” I mumbled and pressed the cold cloth to the back of his neck instead. I made my way to Sehun and pressed a cloth to his forehead and did the same with Junmyeon.

“Shes not freaking out” Jongin whispered to Baekhyun, he nodded as he observed me.

“I can hear you” I turned to the pair. A rapid knock broke our intense stare off before I went to get it. It was Kyungsoo and Yixing who looked frazzled and in a hurry and not happy to see me at all.

“No no you cannot be here” Yixing rasped out. Kyungsoo gently pushed her inside and closed the door behind Yixing.

“They made their way to the living room where the rest were.

“They know she's here.” Kyungsoo filled them in as the sick boys groaned.

“What is going on?” I tried to ask but they weren't really listening to me anymore.

“YO! Who knows I am here?” their heads snapped to her direction.

“Bad people really bad people” Yixing stated.

“Shes not freaking out” Kyungsoo murmured.

“Yeah, I am confused too” Jongdae answered. Minseok rolled his eyes before turning to me and baring his very animalistic fangs at me and changing his normal brown eye color to a blood red.

“Vampire” he pointed at himself and then pointing towards Jongin and Baekhyun “The same thing” before pointing toward Kyungsoo and Yixing and Baekhyun and saying

“Shapeshifters” my eyes were wide t this point.

“These three are werewolves, I am guessing,” I said in the most casual voice I can muster. I paused before continuing, “I am guessing with the full moon and all”

“You're smart” Baekhyun winked at me, immediately Minseok hit his arm.

“You're not human are you?” he said as he gave me a pointed look. I cringed. This is why I didn't want to move, but I am regretting that choice now.

“I am a descendant.” I sighed as I revealed my past.

“What the hell is that?” Jongdae asked.

“She has witch genes in her blood but she’s not a witch” Kyungsoo explains.

“I can make potions though, it's cool” I murmur as I rotate the cold cloths on the heavy breathing Junmyeon. His eyes were turning a slightly golden, I brushed my hand against his hot skin.

“I am his mate aren't I?” I state, silence overtakes the room. They all nod their heads in silence.

I bite my lips before mentally searching for the list of things I need to be able to at least help Junmyeon.

“Have you called Hyo Gun and Sang-Soo yet? I can only help Junmyeon at this point” I stated as I stared at the stoic boys in front of me, I guess they were expecting this.

I checked my watch 12:50

“Yes, they're on their way” “what do you think you're going?”

“I have most of the ingredients but I am missing some, some I am going to the convenience store keep an eye on them,” I said in a hast as I went to open the door.

“You can't, bad people are outside.” Yixing reminded me,

“Why do you think they haven't broken in yet?” I questioned, “I have a spell protecting the building and on me., ill be fine” I assured.

“I thought you said that you can't cast spells,” Kyungsoo asked

“I am half witch half descendent” I explain, “my mom was a full witch while my dad is a descendent.” nice all the secrets come out tonight. I glanced back at Junmyeon he still looked sick but was now passed out.

“I'll be fine” I assured again before walking out. I planned to go to the 24-hour convenience store for some meds and the ingredients for the healing potion I am making. As I arrived I already sensed the bad aura the three guys hanging in the back had. I kept my cool and went through the isle that I needed and gave them no attention, as they clearly knew who I am. My phone gave a shrill ring. I hastily picked it up with the bag in my hands.

“Where are you?” Baekhyun asked.

“I am almost done, I making my way back after I pay.” I glanced at the cashier and then eyed the three men. I sighed this isn't going to end well.

“I might be late” I stated before hanging up and not bothering to hear Baekhyun frantic response. I went to the register and paid for everything and started to make my way home again before noticing two things, the three men were following me, and I got a message saying that the girls are waiting for me so I wouldn't have to walk alone. I decided that if I am going to use my powers tonight I’d rather it not be in front of the sweet girls. I sighed again, I hate this. Well not my powers, the part where I damage their egos and accidentally kill them.

I set down the bags and turn to face them. I keep my face as blank as possible. They don't try to hide the fact that they are werewolves and morph right away, greenish-yellow eyes stare at mine as they stalk towards me. I feel my body already starting to prepare itself for the next spells and castings. The one in the middle is the one that goes first, a binding spell keeps him locked in his position. One of the left snarls at me, I feel offended so I blasted that one with an energy spell. The right one growls and charges towards me at full speed and I didn't have time to deter him off his track so I just put up a protection spell around me. By now the left of recovered and was snapping his jaw at me.

I don't want to play any more games so I just cast a revocation spell. The left one slowly and painfully turns into a human before dying. The right one witnessing what I just did, snapped his jaw at me and charged, this time I can see the fear in his eyes. I cast a force spell that knocks the wolf out of the day and into a nearby tree and knocks it out. The one in the center is still bound and looks very much scared. I smiled and cast a banishing spell so he can never come here again, taking one look at the knocked out wolf and the one trembling in front of me I cast forgetful spells on both of them before picking up my bags once more.

I met up with the girls and went up the apartment complex. The boys scrambled to get up. I looked at the watch to see how long it took me, 2:30 AM wow. Sang-Soo and Hyo Gun make their way straight to the two boys, while I stay back and settle in the kitchen to make the potions I need for him.

“How long does it usually last?” I asked, so I can get the measurement for the pinewood right.

“Until 4 AM” Jongin responds.

“Why do you have blood on your face” Baekhyun stated.

“Ran into a couple of omegas, they attacked me, I defended myself” I shrugged as I wiped it off. A growl rang through the air, I hurriedly went to sit next Junmyeon.

“I am here, not my blood” I reassured him, his eyes were still yellow.

“I'll kill them” it was between a growl and a snarl.

“You can't do that, I already did” I whispered. He didn't seem to be in as much pain anymore since he had the power to look shocked.

“What?” I demanded softly. “only one, there were three”

“We’re going to have a long chat” he gasped out as he went into more waves of pain.

“Fun” I rolled my eyes. I headed back into the kitchen. Once I finished the potions I needed, I made my way back into the living room.

“Great, I guess we're going to have our movie night with company.”

#exo #exo-writers-net #junmyeon #suho #halie writes #exoot9

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expatimes · 4 years ago

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A geneticist’s biggest challenge: Curing his own son

Palo Alto, California – Whitney Dafoe’s day begins at 2:30pm. His father, Ron Davis, peeks through the keyhole into the 37-year-old’s room. Is he awake?

ABSOLUTELY NO ENTRY is scrawled in red on a handmade sign pinned to the door below a picture of the Dalai Lama. Davis has rushed home from Stanford University in Palo Alto, California, to take the afternoon shift. When Whitney raises his left hand, fingers clenched to a fist, that’s Davis’s cue. Whitney is ready for his dad to change his diapers, put ice on his aching belly, and refill the IV-drip.

Davis’s shift ends at 6pm when his wife, Janet Dafoe, takes over. Dafoe, a child psychologist, carefully attaches a bag filled with liquid nutrients to her son’s j-tube because he cannot digest solid food. She will also take the night shift, so her 79-year-old husband can return to Stanford to work on the task that’s been governing his life for years: finding a cure for his son.

Whitney was diagnosed in 2010 with myalgic encephalomyelitis, or chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS), a complex illness that leads to debilitating exhaustion, brain fog, insomnia and neurocognitive impairments. Any physical or mental effort aggravates the fatigue. He has been mostly bedridden for the last 10 years and has not spoken a word since Christmas 2014. He only communicates via pantomime or by typing short messages into his tablet. In one of his texts several years ago, Whitney typed, “Chronic fatigue sounds too banal. I call it total body shutdown.” He added an apology to his parents: “I am sorry I’m ruining your golden years.”

At about 190cm (6-foot-3), Whitney weighs a little over 45kg (100lbs). His head is shaved, his figure emaciated. Filmmaker Jennifer Brea (Unrest), a fellow ME/CFS patient, compares the illness to “a broken battery” that can only charge to five percent. Nobody has been able to identify a single cause. There are no standard diagnostic tests and no cures, doctors can only rule out other illnesses such as multiple sclerosis (MS) or cancer.

The National Academy of Sciences estimates that up to 2.5 million Americans suffer from ME/CFS, and an estimated 84 to 91 percent of people with ME/CFS are not diagnosed. The World Health Organization lists ME/CFS as a neurological illness, but Davis is convinced he’s confronting an autoimmune disorder, not unlike MS. Like many autoimmune disorders, it disproportionately affects women. His research became especially urgent after Dr Anthony Fauci, the top infectious disease expert in the US, warned that the novel coronavirus could cause ME/CFS.

“CFS is probably the last major illness we need to figure out,” says Davis, who speaks with a voice so tender everyone around him immediately lapses into silence so they can understand his words. “I feel the tremendous weight to find a solution.”

Whitney Dafoe, 37, who has chronic fatigue syndrome, weighs little more than 45kg

A problem solver

Davis, the director of the Stanford Genome Technology Center, has solved complex puzzles before. It’s something he has enjoyed since childhood when he would build model rockets, persevering despite being told by teachers that he would never amount to much because of his dyslexia.

He later developed one of the first methods for mapping DNA in 1967. In his 50-year career as a biochemist and geneticist, he has also worked with Nobel laureate James Watson at Harvard, created the first image of the pairing of two genomes, and made crucial contributions to the Human Genome Project.

I’ve always found tremendous joy in solving problems that others deem unsolvable.

Ron Davis

In 2013, Atlantic magazine counted him as one of “today’s greatest inventors.”

“I’ve always found tremendous joy in solving problems that others deem unsolvable,” he says in the foyer of his house, but the joy drains from his face when he stops at his son’s door. “My greatest hope is that we find the cause.”

Whitney, before he became ill with ME/CFS

‘When Ron calls, we come’

Whitney was an award-winning photographer with a keen, meditative eye. The lanky, curly-headed adventurer explored all 50 states and nearly all continents with his camera. He lived with a shaman in Ecuador, discovered the Himalayas on the back of his motorcycle, and helped build a nunnery in India. Like many CFS-patients, his breakdown started with an infection: In 2007, he went to a clinic in India with a fever and bloody diarrhoea. When the doctors there could not help him, he booked the next flight home to California.

But despite innumerable doctor visits, he kept getting weaker. In 2009, he took photos of then-President Barack Obama’s inauguration but already could not work full days anymore. He tried keeping up with wedding photo assignments, but it would take him an entire week to recover.

“First he couldn’t carry his shopping bags anymore, then he became too weak to cook, so in May 2011, he moved back in with us because he didn’t have the energy anymore for the simplest everyday things,” Janet Dafoe recalls. “At first, we couldn’t understand why he was always so tired. Then, we thought, OK, who are the specialists? At which clinic can we get help? We tried absolutely everything the doctors recommended.” She runs down a long list of medications, antidepressants, cancer remedies, MS supplements. “Until we realised: Nobody knows how he can get healthy again.”

That is when Davis came to a decision: “I have to do it.”

Whitney’s state is comparable to an AIDS patient about a week before his death. And that has been the case for the last six years.

Ron Davis

The words of the doctor who finally diagnosed his son with ME/CFS burned themselves into his memory: “The good news is, he won’t die from it. The bad news is, he won’t die from it.” But the truth is that any further infection, for instance from his feeding tube, could be the end.

Davis understands his race for a cure as a race against the death of his son. “Whitney’s state is comparable to an AIDS patient about a week before his death. And that has been the case for the last six years,” Davis says. At one point, Whitney spelled D Y I N G with scrabble tiles.

In 2013, Davis founded the Stanford Chronic Fatigue Syndrome Research Center (now called ME/CFS Collaborative Research Center). In his labs, centrifuges churn with the blood of dozens of severe ME patients, including his son. A geneticist colleague is sequencing their genes as a favour.

“There are still doctors who send these patients to a psychiatrist,” Davis laments. “If a general practitioner analyses Whitney’s blood, they get near-normal results. Therefore doctors think the illness is in their head.” But when he explored further, Davis detected anomalies. After more than 9,000 experiments, Davis has proven that Whitney’s blood is thicker and stickier. When he exposes the blood of healthy people to a stressor such as salt, it will soon revert back to normal, whereas the blood conductivity of CFS patients collapses. Davis has developed four diagnostic tools he is currently testing and believes he will soon be able to announce a breakthrough in confirming biomarkers.

Ron Davis, one of the world’s leading geneticists, is focused on finding a cure for his son

But Davis’s deeply personal fight for his son’s health is also a battle for the recognition of this illness. The National Institutes of Health spent only about $15m in 2019 on ME/CFS research, which affects up to 2.5 million Americans. It spent about $111m on MS research, which affects about one million people.

Luminaries from all over the world have joined Davis’s research and flew in for the last pre-pandemic CFS Symposium at Stanford in September 2019: Robert Phair, a former Johns Hopkins School of Medicine professor, has seen interrupted metabolism in patients; top surgeon Ron Tompkins established a CFS research collaboration at Harvard University; Maureen Hanson, professor of molecular biology at Cornell University who was motivated to join the efforts by a family member with CFS, has focused her research on the microbiome of patients’ gut and blood; neuroscientist Jonas Bergquist who travelled from Uppsala University, in Sweden, where he started a research centre on ME/CFS.

Stanford geneticist Mike Snyder summed up what many of them think: “When Ron calls, we come.” They all acknowledge his brilliant mind and work ethic, and complain about the lack of funding to study this complex disease.

With Davis’s help, the Open Medicine Foundation, which leads the largest non-profit effort to diagnose, treat and prevent ME/CFS and related chronic, complex diseases, raised more than $18m in 2019 and was on track to raise another $20m in 2020. Davis, who is the director of OMF’s scientific advisory board, has such a stellar reputation among scientists that he was able to convince numerous renowned researchers at Ivy League universities to contribute to his work, including Nobel Laureates Paul Berg and Mario Capecchi.

They have made progress: Neurologists found inflammatory changes in the brain; immunologists suspect an error response in the immune system; and geneticists point to a genetic marker for CFS that up to three-quarters of people may have. “It’s like looking at an elephant,” Davis jokes. “One is checking out the trunk, another the legs, and a third the ears. Everybody finds something in their area.”

Whitney has not said a word since Christmas, 2014

ME/CFS and COVID-19

Davis’s research became even more urgent and important after Dr Fauci warned that some COVID survivors showed symptoms in line with those of ME/CFS. “This is a phenomenon that is really quite real and quite extensive,” Fauci said at the federal government’s first conference on “COVID long haulers” in early December, calling it “a significant public health issue”.

According to Fauci, “a considerable number” of COVID survivors struggle with extreme exhaustion, memory lapses, and cognitive difficulties many months after they have been officially cleared as recovered.

Davis is part of a high-level interagency work and research group (PDF) looking at the long-term consequences of COVID with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), National Institutes of Health, the Veterans Administration, and the Department of Defense.

This could be a turning point to figuring out how ME/CFS gets triggered and how to stop it before it starts.

Whitney Dafoe

He launched the first study into long-term molecular changes in COVID patients and he is years ahead in his research on why some patients cannot recover easily after a severe viral infection.

“This could be a turning point to figuring out how ME/CFS gets triggered and how to stop it before it starts,” Whitney typed in a text shared by his parents. “They are taking blood from coronavirus patients and monitoring their progress so they can see, in real-time, the transition from coronavirus to ME/CFS.”

‘Superman’

In the early years, Whitney was still able to work with a physiotherapist. “Now he can’t tolerate strangers in the room. Everything is too much.” Janet Dafoe sighs. She reduced her therapy hours and her husband reorganised his institute so they can care for Whitney around the clock. Sometimes, a nurse takes over the night shift, but the family cannot afford constant care. “Many ME/CFS-patients have a warped night-day rhythm,” Janet Dafoe explains why she often stays with her son until 5am. They have tried in vain to find a different rhythm. “Whitney hardly sleeps more than two hours a night, and nobody knows why.”

Ron Davis and Janet Dafoe

Just like the virus took over their son’s body, it has also brought his parents’ lives to a standstill. “Our life is stuck in a holding pattern,” Janet Dafoe acknowledges. “Doing my PhD was hard. I conquered mountains, that was hard. But living with my son’s illness is a thousand times harder. Our entire world has been eaten up by a chronic disease.”

Last July, Davis and Dafoe celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. They met at the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) when she was a budding child psychologist, he a geneticist who had already garnered the first of his 30 patents. They immediately connected over their shared interests: hiking, nature, Indigenous American wisdom. They used to enjoy mountain tours, trips to the Sierra mountain range, and visits with Native American shamans. But their travel together has all but ceased as at least one of them always stays close to their son. They still have a traditional sweat lodge in their lush garden, Janet Dafoe’s greatest pride.

“Because we can’t travel anymore, I take care of the garden, so we at least have a nice place here,” Janet Dafoe says, her grey curls framing her face. Tibetan prayer flags flutter above the pillars of their elegant single-family home in Professorville in the heart of Palo Alto, a reminder of Whitney’s Buddhist faith.

This is a devastating, really serious disease that affects many body systems. It will completely knock you out, it will ruin your life and the lives of people who take care of you. It can affect anyone if they just get the wrong virus or the wrong environmental stress.

Janet Dafoe

In the hallway leading to Whitney’s room, Whitney and his younger sister, Ashley Haugen, smile from framed photos, taken in happier times, their toddler selves dancing hand-in-hand. Ballet used to be Ashley’s passion; now she is an event manager and new mother.

In 2011, after Whitney first fell ill, his sister took care of him for a full year. But she burned out. “He was my best friend,” she says. “It is hard to find someone who knows you as well as your brother.”

Her parents invited friends and colleagues to their Palo Alto home on this pre-pandemic afternoon the day after the conference, including a dozen patients with milder ME who are strong enough to leave the house. For 20 years, Janet Dafoe worked full-time at the Children’s Health Council in Palo Alto, then the last 15 years at the Morrissey Compton Educational Center in Redwood City, mainly counselling children with Aspergers and autism. Instead of taking care of her own psychology patients, she now spends many hours a day comforting other ME/CFS patients. “I try to show them that they are not alone. I am busy every day to prevent suicides,” the mild-mannered Janet Dafoe says, then her tone changes and she speaks of increasing despair.

Whitney and Ashley when they were children

“This is a devastating, really serious disease that affects many body systems. It will completely knock you out, it will ruin your life and the lives of people who take care of you. It can affect anyone if they just get the wrong virus or the wrong environmental stress,” she adds. “They should all be up in arms that the research isn’t funded better so we can figure this out! Instead, some doctors are still telling patients to simply man up or exercise. They are basically committing malpractice. It’s absolutely mind-blowing.”

Of course, many patients are depressed and anxious, she says, “because so much has been taken away from them. But that doesn’t mean the illness is in their head. You would be depressed, too, if you couldn’t do most of the things you used to do, and nobody knows how you can be helped.”

She tries to retrieve her sense of humour, recounting one of her last conversations with her son several years ago. He was worried he would not be able to find a wife. “’They’ll all be taken by the time I’m recovered,’” Janet Dafoe smiles as she remembers his words.

“I told him finding a girlfriend for him will be the easiest problem to solve.”

Everything can change in a moment. You never know what will happen in the future. Never stop fighting. I'm fighting with you. If you feel like giving up, give it to me. I will carry it for you.

Whitney Dafoe

This year, Whitney’s energy has improved a little with experimental medication. For the first time in years, he can type longer texts into his tablet, opening a window into his isolated inner world. When Dafoe asked her son if he had a message for other CFS patients, Whitney closed his eyes, focused, and wrote a few lines: “Everything can change in a moment. You never know what will happen in the future. Never stop fighting. I’m fighting with you. If you feel like giving up, give it to me. I will carry it for you.”

Janet Dafoe had the lines printed on posters, with a picture of Whitney’s raised left fist, photographed through the keyhole of his room.

It’s a fight his parents have vowed to never give up either. Davis’s book with award-winning journalist Tracie White, The Puzzle Solver: A Scientist’s Desperate Quest to Cure the Illness that Stole His Son, hits bookshelves this month. It paints an intimate portrait of Whitney’s journey to diagnosis and his father’s fight to find a cure.

Whitney, with his parents and sister, who have taken care of him at different times since he fell ill in 2010

Sitting in the garden, Davis keeps checking his mobile phone until it tells him it is time for the next feeding. He promptly gets up to mix a second helping of nutrient powder for his son.

When Davis returns from feeding his son, his face is crumpled by exhaustion. “I’ve got to sit down,” he says. Both father and son have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, which causes joint pain and fatigue. Davis started suffering from rheumatic fever as a one-year-old toddler, was often bedridden for weeks as a child; he lives with chronic pain every day. “I’m used to pain,” he says flatly. “You just rewire your brain to ignore it.”

It was precisely his childhood experience with medicine that ignited his passion for science. When a doctor gave him penicillin for the first time, instantly erasing his fever, the child thought medicine was a miracle and vowed to study it from then on. “His whole life prepared him for the task of saving his son,” Janet Dafoe comments. “Whitney truly believes dad is superman.”

The book The Puzzle Solver, co-written by Ron Davis and Stanford science writer Tracie White, will be published January 5, 2021, by Hachette.

#technology Read full article: https://expatimes.com/?p=16320&feed_id=26392 #coronaviruspandemic #features #health #scienceandtechnology #unitedstates #usampcanada

#Coronaviruspandemic #Features #Health #ScienceandTechnology #UnitedStates #USampCanada

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