#serious injuries and deaths

[thoughtlessarse]

The engines rev, the guitars thrum and a gruff narrator lays out why the vehicle occupying the driveway is more than just a machine. “A truck is a tool,” he says, “but a Ram – a Ram is life.” So begins an advert for the Ram 1500, a pickup truck slightly bigger than the Panzer I tanks of Nazi Germany and almost as heavy. It is growing in popularity in Europe, with the number of Rams arriving on the continent up 20% in 2023 from the year before, according to registration data from the European Environment Agency. Road safety and environmental campaigners in the UK and Europe are aghast as the latest, most extreme cases of North American car bloat – giant pickup trucks – are increasingly crossing the Atlantic. “Europe should ban the Ram,” said Dudley Curtis from the European Transport Safety Council. “This type of vehicle is excessively heavy, tall and powerful, making it lethal in collisions with normal-sized vehicles, pedestrians and cyclists.” For now, the giant vehicles fall foul of EU environmental rules but can be imported through a back-door channel known as an individual vehicle approval (IVA) that subjects them to less scrutiny. Nearly 5,000 Dodge Rams were brought to Europe last year, and about 60% of IVA approvals in the EU, Norway and Iceland are for the Ram – whose manufacturer, Stellantis, did not respond to requests for comment. Other large pickup trucks, such as the Ford F-150 and Chevrolet Silverado, are also arriving but in smaller numbers. On Tuesday, the Guardian revealed that one of Europe’s first Tesla Cybertrucks may have been registered incorrectly through the same route.

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[speakergame]

Progress Report - 4/29/24

hello and happy birthday!

...is how this was going to start when I intended to post it this past Friday. But I spent my birthday as a side character in the hit 1996 movie Twister. By which I mean there was a really big tornadoful storm here, the likes of which I've never seen before. It's never a fun time when the words "historic" and "record-breaking" are involved.

But anyway! My birthday was a few days ago, and to celebrate I have a slightly belated gift for all of you!

A release date

That's right, we're back in business here in Speakerland 😁 I'm so relieved to finally return to some semblance of normalcy, and I'm very hopeful that I'll be able to get back to doing regular monthly updates again.

As for this one, the update will be going up on Patreon TONIGHT! I'll be uploading that momentarily, in fact. That means that, barring any strange game-breaking bugs or overly tangled code, the update will be out for public release on Tuesday, May 7th!

I just want to thank everyone one more time for your patience, and for all the messages of support 💙 it really does mean the world to me.

I think that's it for this time! I hope you all have a fantastic week with only mild-to-moderate tornadoes, and I'll see you all next week! 💙💙🌪️💙

[asiriyep]

Kakashi Week 2024.

Day 6: Dream | Nightmare / Seeking.

Part 1, Part 2.

@kakashiweek

[ladyluscinia]

And fuck people are already starting to be insufferable about "sometimes people die in tv shows, god, these whiny children" and like. I love a good character death beat? I enjoyed Black Sails way more than OFMD and my favorite character in the cast of doomed characters was the most blatantly signaled dead man walking of them all?

And when he died I was distraught but also TWICE as motivated to finish the show because Vane's death was thee mic drop moment of his arc?

I can handle people killing my favorite character, lol, but maybe the romcom with hijinks and muppet logic just really sucked at delivering a satisfying death beat because they aren't actually an intense, emotional pirate drama and the episode just kinda sucked all around???

[geode-crystal]

“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.” for the prince and knight duo ❤️

-- @whumperofworlds

Hello friend! Thank you for the ask!! You get a fun little whumpy drabble lol

______________

“Don’t you touch him,” Darius snarled. “If you hurt a single hair on his head…”

He stood in front of Mianu, sword raised, using his entire body to shield Mianu’s form. Mianu was huddled as far into the corner of the tiny, dismal room as he could possibly go. He was curled in on himself, clutching at the wound in his side, his other arm lying limp on the ground. His own magic betrayed him, shadows pulsing around his bad arm. His breathing was ragged. Shallow. His face was pale. And Darius didn’t want to think about all the other injuries he had sustained.

All that damage, all because Darius hadn’t been fast enough.

But he was here now. And he wasn’t going to let anything happen to Mianu again.

The enemy soldier sneered. Their own sword was held casually at their side, tip down, practically touching the cold stone floor. An easy threat… and a sign that they were far from intimidated.

“A little late for that, don’t you think?” they drawled.

Darius bristled with fury. His own sword leveled out, pointing right at his adversary’s heart.

“Walk away,” he hissed. “Right now. Or I will ensure that everything you did to him will be unleashed on you. Tenfold.”  

The enemy only smirked. “Cute. But let’s try this: you stand aside, and allow our dear young prince to follow orders. Or I could run you through, toss you aside, and make him follow orders.”

Mianu winced. A soft cry, a pitiful hiss, passed his lips. Darius had never felt such hatred.

“Over my dead body,” Darius snarled.

The soldier laughed. “Alright. I’m flexible.”

And their sword flashed as they lunged right for Darius. Darius was only too eager to meet the challenge. Whatever happened to him didn’t matter. As long as it meant Mianu got out without any further harm.

It was his duty as a knight. And his honor as Mianu’s love.

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 11 - We're out of time

Suguru smiles, watching the scene in front of him unfurl with a great deal of amusement. Shoko is trying to teach Satoru how to heal others, now that he figured out how to heal himself, and it’s going just as well as all three of them expected.

Suguru gives her another five minutes before she attempts to strangle Satoru with her bare hands and claim that maybe a life and death situation is going to speed matters along.

“Gojo, please,” she now says, her voice tightly controlled and she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Would you concentrate for once in your life?”

“I am concentrating,” Satoru shoots back. “It just doesn’t make any sense what you’re saying!”

Shoko takes a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself down and Suguru honestly feels bad for her. It’s not as if he has any idea what they are talking about, seeing as he is the only one in the room who doesn’t have any kind of healing-power—neither himself nor others—and so to him it’s all gibberish anyway.

“You just have to concentrate,” she reiterates again. “Remember how it feels when you heal yourself,” she says, not for the first time and Satoru throws his hands up in frustration.

“I know how it feels when I heal myself!”

“Then put your hand on my arm and heal this goddamn cut!” Shoko snaps back and maybe Suguru was a bit generous with his estimate of five minutes.

It looks as if she’s about ready to snap any moment now.

“I can’t, why won’t you understand that! It doesn’t make sense when it comes to you, it’s just not the same!”

“What do you mean ‘not the same’? A body is a body!”

“But it’s not,” Satoru whines and slumps in his chair, eying the shallow cut on Shoko’s arm.

Suguru suspects it’s pretty hard for her to keep it open in the first place at the moment and he wonders if that might be one of the reasons she’s so annoyed by Satoru today.

“What do you mean by that? Gods, Gojo, would it kill you to explain yourself once in a while?”

“Things in my body make sense,” Satoru starts, clearly trying to make Shoko understand. “There’s a wound, I do a little—” he wriggles his fingers in what Suguru guesses is a sensible motion because Shoko nods “—and then it’s gone. But I can’t do the same for you. There’s this—barrier or something and everything past that is muddled and muted and confusing and makes no sense at all. I don’t even know where to send my energy to start on healing you and nothing you say makes sense because I don’t feel your body like I do mine.”

“And thank the gods for that,” Shoko mutters before she shakes her head. “But that’s not feasible, Gojo, you have to figure out how to look past this barrier. What if he gets hurt?" Her hand flies up and she points an accusing finger at Suguru, who almost jerks back.

He’s just here to bear witness to this madness, not be dragged in and besides—

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Shoko,” he drawls out and then very much does not wither under her burning glare.

“We all know neither of you are indestructible. We’ve seen it. So what if Geto gets hurt again, huh? What are you going to do then?”

“Bring him to you?” Satoru gives back and shrugs. “I mean, I can just teleport him to you if it comes to that.”

“It’s not that easy, Gojo. You can’t always assume that an injury will still allow you to move him.”

“Huh?”

“What if he’s impaled on something? What if moving him means exacerbating his injuries? What are you going to do then?”

 “I can just come and get you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shoko shakes her head. “You know Yaga sends me to Kyoto more often these days. What if I’m not here? Are you going to warp yourself all over Japan just to get me? We all know you can’t do long-distance teleportation—not yet—and even if you could: two times that close together while you’re also transporting another person? It’s unlikely even you can do something like that. And even if, let’s pretend your genius self can figure this out, what about him then? You want to leave him alone, seriously injured on a battlefield? Either with a curse still there or left all to his own? It’s not going to work, Gojo. You have to figure out how to do it, for his sake at least.”

Satoru looks over to Suguru with a frown and Suguru simply shrugs. Shoko isn’t wrong, after all. So many things can go wrong on a mission and there’s no way to predict a situation like this.

“It could also be a matter of time,” Suguru apologetically says, because he knows Satoru hates it when he’s not on his side but Shoko is right. “What if I’m bleeding out? You teleporting all over the place could take too much time. Sometimes it’s a matter of seconds that make a difference.”

Shoko only points at him as if to say ‘What he said’ and Satoru groans.

“Fine, I get it, I do, but that doesn’t change the fact that I cannot figure it out!”

“Then work on it! You learned RCT in a moment of shock to safe your own life. Imagine how you’d feel if he would die, maybe that will help.”

“Please don’t,” Suguru immediately blurts out because while he doesn’t believe in superstitions, it does feel a lot like inviting doom should Satoru imagine something like that.

And Suguru can really do without a near-death experience any time soon.

“Can we just stop for today?” Satoru quietly says, his eyes downcast, and Suguru doesn’t even want to think about what he’s imagining right now. “I promise I’ll work on figuring it out, I promise, but—not today?”

“Fine. Get out of my hair then,” Shoko mutters, waving them off and Satoru is off his chair faster than Suguru can comprehend.

Satoru snatches Suguru’s hand in his and drags him off with him and it’s not as if Suguru is putting up much of a fight, so he easily follows Satoru. He seems lost in his own head and Suguru keeps quiet until they are in Satoru’s room.

“You okay?” Suguru asks once the door is closed behind them and Satoru lets out a shaky breath.

“Don’t get hurt until I figure it out,” he says, his voice almost pleading, and Suguru’s chest suddenly feels tight.

“Satoru—”

“Suguru, just. Don’t get hurt, alright? I will figure it out, I promise you, but until then you cannot get hurt. I can’t—”

Satoru’s breath is coming a bit fast right now and Suguru steps close, resting their foreheads together.

Suguru gets it; he always feels a little bit faint when he remembers just how much blood he found in the spot where Satoru fought and he can imagine that Satoru felt much the same when he heard that Suguru had gotten hurt as well.

“I’m gonna be careful,” Suguru promises him because that’s the only thing he can do.

There’s always a chance in their profession that they are going to get hurt and things in a fight are more than unpredictable but he can at least promise that he’s not going to take any unnecessary risks.

“Please,” Satoru whispers, gripping Suguru’s arm almost painfully and Suguru pulls him into a real hug.

“I promise I’m going to be careful. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“Thank you,” Satoru says and deflates where he stands.

Suguru expected it, so he can easily hold Satoru up, but he does shuffle them over to the bed.

Today, they are going to take it easy and then tomorrow they can double down on Satoru’s training. Suguru has all the faith in the world that Satoru is going to figure it out because he’s a genius like that and so he’s not too worried about anything.

It will be fine.

~*~*~

Suguru can barely breathe and he guesses the huge hole in his chest is the reason for it. There’s a lot of red seeping out of him, he distantly thinks and tries to raise a hand to push it back in.

It’s not very successful and Suguru blames his hand for it, because it barely comes up to where he wants it.

“Suguru! Suguru, no!” Suguru hears Satoru yell out and then in the next second the sky is replaced with sky-coloured eyes.

Suguru thinks he might like the eyes better than the sky.

“I’m good,” Suguru says, can barely feel his mouth shape his words and watches how Satoru’s eyes drop to his chest.

“You’re not fine, fuck, what am I going to do?” Satoru cries out and Suguru remembers that he has not yet figure out how to heal other people.

“Shoko,” Suguru says, because he has to.

He’s going cold and things are getting more clear somehow and he knows he has to send Satoru away.

“Get Shoko,” he says again when Satoru doesn’t move and he tries to push his hand away from his chest, but he can’t find the strength to do so.

“Suguru,” Satoru whispers and Suguru blinks.

“No time, Satoru, need Shoko.”

It’s getting harder to form words and he knows in all honesty that he doesn’t have long left. This is it, for him, and he barely spares a thought for himself. The only thing on his mind apart from the fuzziness is the fact that Satoru cannot be here when he dies.

Satoru shouldn’t have to see that.

“I’m not going to make it, we’re out of time,” Satoru gives back, clearly knowing damn well that Suguru will be dead before Satoru is even halfway to Shoko and he puts his hand on Suguru’s chest.

Suguru thinks he might be sick when the wet noise makes it to his ears.

“I’m gonna heal you. I’m panicking, this is a life and death situation, I can totally figure this out,” he mutters and then closes his eyes to better concentrate.

Suguru’s eyes want to drift shut as well but he fights it. If he has to die then he wants Satoru to be the last thing he ever sees.

“You’re not dying on me, shut up,” Satoru says, a touch of hysteria in his voice and Suguru wonders if he said that out loud or if Satoru managed to read his thoughts somehow.

It could be fun, if Satoru were a mind-reader now as well.

“Suguru, stay with me,” Satoru pants out, clearly exerting himself by concentrating really hard and Suguru thought there was a hole in his chest so he doesn’t understand why it’s suddenly burning like that.

“Satoru,” Suguru gets out only to be met with a fierce glare.

“Shut up,” Satoru hisses and Suguru obediently falls silent.

Satoru is clearly doing something and it probably wouldn’t do to interrupt him now.

“You’re not going to die,” Satoru mutters as sweat beads on his forehead. “You’re not. I won’t let you.”

It’s a nice sentiment, Suguru thinks, and then his energy is all used up and the last thing he remembers to do is smile at Satoru.

He deserves at least that much.

~*~*~

Suguru wakes up to Shoko’s face. The sight in front of him doesn’t change, even when he blinks once, then twice and eventually he decides to accept it.

He didn’t expect to see Shoko in the afterlife, but stranger things have happened.

“How did you die?” Suguru asks, his voice raspy and Shoko snorts out a laugh.

“I didn’t, you idiot. Welcome back to the living.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you heard me right,” Shoko says and leans back. “You survived.”

Suguru cranes his head down to check out his own chest and he is honestly confused when he finds it whole and unmarred.

There should be a hole the size of his fist in there.

“What happened?”

“Gojo healed you.”

“He figured it out?” Suguru asks and he can’t help how proud he sounds.

He always knew that Satoru would figure it out eventually but to hear that he in fact did somehow hits differently.

“Uhm, that’s probably a conversation you need to have with him,” Shoko says, avoiding eye-contact all of a sudden. “You should feel a little bit groggy, but otherwise you’re good to go. Gojo is probably still sulking in your room, claiming I took too long to clear you to go.”

“I—see,” Suguru mutters because this is all a bit much. He does understand that Shoko wants him out of her hair and so he sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the couch he was laying on.

He feels a little unsteady on his legs when he finally pushes himself off but that feeling fades quickly.

“Thanks, I guess,” Suguru mumbles, waving at Shoko who only rolls her eyes at him.

“Go thank your possessive freak,” she gives back and that only serves to confuse Suguru further.

It takes him a little bit longer than usually, but he does make it back to his own room eventually and just like Shoko promised him, Satoru is right there.

“Satoru,” Suguru breathes out and Satoru is there a second later, fluttering his hands over Suguru’s chest as if he has to make sure that he’s really unhurt.

“Did Shoko clear you?”

“She threw me out, if that’s what you mean,” Suguru replies and then pushes past Satoru towards his bed.

Sitting down does sound kind of nice right now.

“That means you’re good then.”

“She did mention that you healed me?” Suguru asks and leans against Satoru with a sigh when he finally sits down on the bed as well.

“What else did she say?” Satoru asks, fiddling with his fingers and Suguru frowns.

“She called you a possessive freak,” he honestly gives back and Satoru huffs.

“Honestly, what does that woman have against me. That’s so uncalled for.”

“What happened?” Suguru asks and leans more firmly against Satoru. “You figured it out then? Healing others?”

“Not—really,” Satoru whispers and clicks his tongue.

“What is it then?”

“Remember that talk I had with Shoko? Where I said that it’s easy because my body makes sense and then there’s a barrier around everyone else?”

“Yeah?”

“Well—it turns out there’s no barrier around you,” Satoru rushes out and Suguru blinks.

“Huh? You mean I’m—what? Leaking everywhere?”

“No, it’s more like—” Satoru sighs. “There’s my body and then there’s everyone else’s. And you’re more like—my body.”

Suguru takes a moment to digest that.

“That’s what she meant by possessive,” he eventually mutters and drops his head to Satoru’s shoulder. “Because you see me as yours.”

“It’s more like—as if we’re one,” Satoru mumbles, his voice barely audible and Suguru hums. “Are you—mad?”

“About what?” Suguru wants to know because being angry is the furthest thing from his mind right now.

“About—that?”

“Satoru,” Suguru sighs out and reaches out to take Satoru’s hand in his, treading their fingers together. “Apart from the fact that you saved my life—for which I am beyond grateful—it’s always us, isn’t it? Why would I be angry knowing that you feel the same about me?”

“The same?”

“Of course the same. Besides, isn’t it you who always says that I’m your one and only? Don’t you think I would have complained before if I minded that?”

“Probably,” Satoru admits and Suguru shrugs.

“Then I don’t see what there’s to worry about. “I love you. You love me and it’s all like it should be. Especially now that I don’t have a huge hole in my chest.”

“Gods, don’t even say that,” Satoru says with a wet laugh. “You have no idea how scared I was.”

“I can imagine,” Suguru replies, because—again—he had to find so much blood after Toji.

He gets it.

“Now, I am cleared and I am very obviously not dead, but I am incredibly tired, so can we please just lay down?”

“Yeah, of course, sure, come here,” Satoru immediately says, moving away from Suguru to allow him to stretch out on the bed.

Satoru follows him easily but instead of laying down next to him, he almost drapes himself over Suguru, pressing his ear to Suguru’s chest.

“Do you mind?” Satoru asks and Suguru somehow musters the strength to raise a hand and card his fingers through Satoru’s hair.

“Not at all,” he whispers and with a sigh of contentment Satoru goes boneless.

“I do love you,” he says after a long moment, “just wanting to get that out there.”

“I think your actions said that loud and clear,” Suguru replies but he can’t deny that it does feel nice to hear him say it.

“Good. Can’t let you forget,” Satoru mutters and then drifts off to sleep, clearly having worn himself out with his worry.

Suguru is not far behind though and he sleeps very well, knowing that his one and only feels the same.

[snoffart]

put him out of his misery.

uhh LOL very rare for me to oc post but I've been playing ffxiv and made some OCs... my cowboy catgirl Zaeli (half miqo, half hrothgar) and her adoptive father, Harmon.. For the endings context, Harmon is a wanted man and his bounty is quite high. A man sought him out and took him down, and Zaeli killed that man for vengeance. It implies at the end that she will put Harmon out of his misery.

[sneaky-snake-907]

Why are you focusing on cracking ciphers when you could be focused on Cipher's crack?

[good-beanswrites]

If it's okay with you, could you write a drabble about the hypothetical aftermath of Amane getting attacked by Kotoko?

Welp thank you pal for making me absolutely insane with this request 👍 I ran through a few hypotheticals and realized I had to shift some things around since there were so many absolutely tragic outcomes. I worked something out but damn if it didn’t make me emotional to think about how uniquely rough Amane has it. Even making sure she's in a good place at the end, this got pretty serious, so warnings for child abuse and cult references. 

(So in canon, Kotoko goes in order and attacks Fuuta, but Kazui steps in. Then she attacks Mahiru while he’s distracted with his injuries. She’s about to attack Amane, but Mikoto gets in the way (my hc that he did it on purpose survives!). By the time they reach a draw, Kazui is back, and the two of them can prevent Kotoko from any further action against Amane. Sticking to this apparent system of three attacks and one rescue, I’m just shuffling around the injuries for this story. Fuuta’s attack went unnoticed, and he’s in the same state as canon Mahiru. Mikoto steps in before Kotoko can fight Mahiru, so Mappi’s the one who get out physically unscathed. While Mikoto checks on Mahiru, recovers himself, or discovers Fuuta, Kotoko is able to attack Amane next. Kazui comes to help, but not before she leaves Amane looking like canon Fuuta.)

Mahiru could practically feel her heart shatter into a million pieces when Amane finally cried in front of her. She hadn’t shed a single tear yesterday – it was the shock, Shidou said. Mahiru was skeptical. After all, she had been shocked, too, and cried plenty.

Amane woke as she came in with breakfast. She took a moment to survey herself, bandages peeking out from beneath her pajamas and an eyepatch securely over her right eye. As calmly as one might say “good morning,” she started to cry. Mahiru might have missed it, if Amane hadn’t wiped at her good eye with her sleeve.

“Oh, sweetheart…!” Mahiru rushed over to her. “It’s okay, I’m here.” She wanted nothing more than to wrap the girl in a secure embrace, but she remembered the mass of bandages that were around her chest. Shidou had mentioned broken ribs and bruises. It took everything in her not to cry along with Amane, at the thought.

“I can get you another ice pack, if you need. Or more medicine.” Her mind spun with ways to help with pain. Many of the first aid supplies had been used to keep Fuuta from the brink of death, but surely there were extras to spare for Amane. 

The girl just shook her head. 

She muttered, “I can’t… I…I’m going to be punished, I’m going to be punished…”

“No! You’re safe now.” Mahiru placed her hands gently on Amane’s arms. “Kotoko’s not coming back. We’re all watching over you. You’re safe. She’s not going to hurt you anymore.” 

“That’s not…” Amane pulled away. Her voice stayed level, despite hiccups interrupting her. A hand reached up to her eyepatch. “It’s this. It’s all of this. It’s sinful. I took it off last night, but he must have…” She started unwrapping it. “They’re going to punish me...” 

With a careful motion, Mahiru held it in place and took Amane’s hands into her own. She’d been picking up on the signs ever since they arrived here together, and a final wave of understanding washed over her. 

“I can’t let you do that.”

Amane’s expression twisted, though words came out far more frantic than fiery. “Let me go.” 

Mahiru didn’t. “I’m sorry. Amane, you need this treatment.”

“That is not your decision to make. That is not any human’s decision to make.”

Mahiru pressed her lips together. “I know. But I can’t watch as you… I can’t sit by again while someone…” She was careful not to apply any pressure, but she could no longer fight the urge to gather Amane up in her arms. “You don’t need to be afraid of those people, anymore.”

“I’m not afraid.” Amane hiccuped. “They love me, and I love them. I need to be good for them.”

“I love you, and I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“You just pity me because I’m young.”

“Why does your age matter? You are a lovely young woman – you are my friend – and I can’t bear to see you in pain.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Mahiru doubted she would take that as an answer; Amane had refused to call any of the others her friend. At least she didn’t argue. In fact, it seemed she was leaning into the embrace a bit more. She sighed a shaky breath into Mahiru’s uniform.

“Listen, Amane. Can you do me a favor? I’m trying to be a good girl, too. To make up for something awful, I need to make sure you’re alright. Can you help me? Can we be good together?”

A long pause followed. Amane’s voice spoke up, ever so gently.

“I suppose I can consider it.” She added quickly, “for the sake of your redemption. Of course.”

“Of course.”

[jonquilyst]

302. Chapter 10, Episode 25

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Transcript:

(White text = Doctor)

*Molly and Megyn are in Nick's room. Molly is standing over him with her hand on his head. Megyn is standing behind her and sobbing*

*Meanwhile, several doctors and nurses are in the room working to remove Nick from life support*

*With the clock ticking overhead, the monitor tracking Nick's heart flatlines, indicating his heart has stopped. The doctor looks downcast*

Doctor: Time of death: 17:42.

[babysitting-hellhound]

This is Ez typing again. I'm big so I can type for Chester.

He wants to first of all thank everyone for their warm wishes in our inbox. We probably aren't going to answer any of the older ones, but we both deeply appreciate it. It's making us both feel so much better already, so he and I can't thank you enough.

Now on to more serious things. TW for serious injuries and near death.

We were in a three-way car crash that almost killed one of the other drivers involved. Chester was also in critical condition, both of his legs and an arm were broken, and that's why I'm here to talk for him. I was miraculously uninjured but definitely in serious shock for a while.

He almost died on us a couple days after the accident, and I was very scared I was going to have to make THAT announcement instead...but he's going to be alright, and is recovering too. We technically shouldn't even have been released from the hospital yet according to the doctor.

Here's the scary part about the future: Chester may never walk again. I wasn't present for a lot of the details but I was told it has something to do with spinal damage. If I get more information (He doesn't want to scare me, which I understand. It could be bad for me in littlespace) I will tell you all what I can. I know that doesn't affect our online presence as much as him being in pain will, but it's an important detail we know needs to be told.

Lots of love from Chester and Ezzi, Even though we were new to the community you all helped us feel more than welcome.

-♣

[sacredwrath]

P3. Fight it

Torture for information, taunting, beating with crowbar, broken bones, begging, serious leg injury, nausea, passing out from pain, vauge death wish

Morgan strides into the cell, a familiar duffle bag in hand. He drops it on the floor with a loud clunk.

"You're making me miss my lunch break."

Jesse groans, trying to hide their face, not wanting him to see their tears.

"Oh Jesse, you look distraught." He crouches next to them, lifting their head with a hand in their hair. "Were you crying?" He grins, "and here I was worrying I'd been too optimistic!" He leans in conspiratorially "My bosses think I've been going easy on you." He drops their head to the floor, standing and brushing off his pants. "Maybe I have. It's not common I let a prisoner last over a month." He moves to the bag and rummages through it. "Honestly Jesse, I like you."

They roll their eyes. "Clearly."

"It's true! I like watching you fight it." He turns to them, crowbar in hand.

Jesse's whole body tenses, every fiber of them attuned to the new weapon. Morgan never uses anything like this. Canes, whips, knives, fists, boots, but this won't just injure, it will destroy. Their breath comes in ragged gasps, they can't seem to get enough air.

"Adrian-" they gasp, using his first name

They push themself up on their good arm and try to scoot away, but Morgan's boot lands on the chain around their neck, holding them in place.

"Oh no you don't." He croons. Nausea rolls over them, and they are suddenly glad they haven't been fed in god knows how long.

"Adrian, please-"

"I mean look at you," He purrs, cutting them off with a look. “You're trying so hard to hold yourself together, but you're not that naive. You know how this'll end." He takes a slow step forward. "You know your crew can't go up against AQUA. Even if they could, its not worth it for you. I think deep down you've always known they aren't coming. Thats why you tried so hard to escape at first, despite the punishments. But now, you're finally starting to get it. Its written all over your face.”

Jesse doesn't have the energy to deny it.

“And you're still fighting, fighting the inevitable. I like watching you fight. Believe it or not, even this job gets repetitive after enough time. You're not unique per say, more just…” a wolfish grin spreads across his face, “adorable.”

"I bet you say that to all your prisoners." Jesse snaps back. "You're just playing with me. Trying to make me feel��� hopeless, like I've already lost."

“Haven't you though?” he muses

“This is just another sick mind game. You want me to feel like- like its not worth fighting back... You're just- just- just playing with me.”

Morgan grins. "Hey, of course I am!" He pauses, and all the mock humor drains from him in an instant. "doesn't mean it's not true though. Can you stand on your own or do you need my help?"

For an instant Jesse is frozen. Rarely does his interrogator let the playful mask fall, he sounds dead. In desperate fear Jesse tries to shove themself up, but they don't have the strength. Their limbs tremble violently and the floor spins back up to smack their face. Morgan drags them up by the collar.

"Give me your wrists."

Their legs are shaking so bad it's hard to stay upright, but they don't want to make it any worse. They hold out their hands.

"Good '' Morgan takes their wrists and almost gently maneuvers them up till they reach the cuffs hanging from the ceiling. "Good," he says again, wiping the tears from their cheeks. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to do anything truly nasty to you, but my bosses aren't patient." He sounds almost apologetic, Jesse feels more tears slipping down their cheeks. "Unfortunately, they aren't here with us, can't see you're already crumbling." He pauses and then, more harshly, “So I have to reassure them."

He goes for their right shin first, breaking the bone with the first blow. For a blessed second, the unnatural snap is worse than the pain, but then, like thunder after a lightning strike, it rolls in. Jesse screams, flailing against the chains, trying desperately to escape. The crowbar falls again, slamming deep into the muscle of their thigh. And again and again, their shin, thigh, hip, each blow building on the agony of the last. Its too much, they cant take it. They scream uselessly, voice cracking with the strain.

The next blow impacts the side of their knee, dislodging something important. They see the knee buckle sideways. Screams falter as their body tries to hurl up the contents of its stomach, but it holds nothing but bile and sobs.

Distinct agonies blur into one undefinable, torturous mass as they lose track of the blows. The world blurs, thick black nothingness creeping in around their edges. With the blackness comes numbness and they wish the void would swallow them. As long as it doesn't hurt.

They snap back to consiousness, where were they? bringing with it the pain and terror they'd briefly escaped. They're screaming again before their eyes fly open. The man stands in front of them splattered in red, like some bizarre piece of modern art. He slaps them again, banishing the last remnants of oblivion.

"Please!" They wail, "stop, please stop please!"

He steps close enough for them to feel his spittle when he yells "Tell me where your base is!"

They sob, unable to find words through the pain. Their mind is in chaos, each thought unraveling faster than it can form.

"Please stop, please stop, please-."

"Where. Is. Your. Base." Morgan cuts off their incoherent begging, speaking slowly, carefully enunciating each word.

Nothing but whimpers make it past their lips

"Then what the hell makes you think I'd stop?" He grabs their leg and twists. This time the pain follows them into blackness.

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Tag list :) @whumpacabra

[davey-in-a-minivan]

making isabel lovelace themed safety signs with the safety sign generator

[spinchip]

Turn You to a Colder Summer

(a/n: I wrote and edited this during my breaks at work, don't judge my grammar mistakes too harshly hehe)

(Warnings: frostbite (descriptions of numbness), violence, blood, injury, torture, mentions of past self harm, mouth trauma, threat of potential death. Kai does not have a good time, but he lives. The Ice Emperor is a Bad Guy)

(Wordcount: 2600)

Cold fingers drag along Kai's cheek in painful friction, ice crystals cracking and cutting into his skin like nettles as the hand arcs up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. The Ice Emperor's eyes are uncanny where they piece Kais gaze- black sclera where there should be white, burning electric blue where there should be warm sky, little flecks of gold that shift in and out of existence in the glow of the ice spires around them. No love. His expression is blank but not in the way Zanes usually is. It's cruel, clinical, and coldly detached.

Kai is bound in the floor, laid sideways to avoid the throbbing agony of brushing his frostbitten shoulder along the too-cold stone beneath him. That mark is hand-shaped, pressed brutally into his skin with a purposeful touch because Zane's ice couldn't get past the fire in his blood normally, not without excessive force or access to unlimited power. The ice blocks binding his arms behind his back and his ankles together don't sink frost as deep as when the Ice Emperor had torn him from his friends with an iron grip around his bicep. Their ambush failed. They were trying to escape, back through the tunnels Krag had shown them but he hesitated to follow, a part of him wanting to try and succeed where Lloyd had failed and draw Zane from the tyrant wearing his face. Kai knew better, he knew he couldn't get caught.

But he did, and now the Emperor is crouched over him with strange eyes and snowflakes trickling from his palm.

"He's not himself." Lloyd had said after stumbling back into the village- he’d left to look for the land bounty and had stayed gone three days, "If he catches you, he'll kill you." He promised, the sash from his ninja suit rewrapped tight over his belly and stained with his blood. The Staff of forbidden spinjitzu had a blade, after all. The Emperor was not afraid to use it. It was pure luck Lloyd had avoided the thick of the blade and hadn’t dropped his guts on the throne room floor.

To further prove his point and to save a life, he'd been dragging behind him a girl with each of her limbs encased in ice and delirious from blood loss, her mouth smeared with red where she'd coughed up bits of her lungs. He’d tapped her- just a tap against her sternum, the barest of hits that she’d nearly dodged, and he’d pushed ice into the delicate capillaries lining her lungs and frozen her blood half solid. The first breath she’d taken after had been agony, the second had torn. Akita. Lloyd had to tell them her name because she had passed out not long after arriving in the village- and when she tries to speak she was too out of it to form the right words. The blood flooding in her mouth wasn’t any help, either. Her body gave out once they began to chip her limbs free of ice, exhaustion claiming her. She was holding on to her life by a thread. Zane had done that.

No, the Ice Emperor had done that. It was an important distinction.

Kai, who'd just gotten his power back- the weak flicker that it was- had gone and gotten himself caught by the man.

The Ice Emperors eyes cut paths along his face, searching for something he knows is there but can't quite place. He'd been pacing around Kai for a long while, agitated and upset as he stared daggers at his prisoner. The frost on the edge of Kais cold and chapped lips reminds him not to speak. The Emperor has no qualms about forcing his silence. At first he’d thought the man was guarding him, too worried about the threat his powers might impose to regulate him to a typical cell under the palace. He was wrong. The Ice Emperor has no fear of him at all. Now he's so close Kai can smell oil, tracing burning cold lines into his skin as if finding the right path across his face will reveal what he's looking for.

Kai prepares for the eventual question. He also prepares for the scenario where the Emperor asks no questions and freezes his heart in his chest, but he hopes it doesn't come to that. He imagines what the Ice Emperor might ask- what the part of Zane still alive in him might push him to ask. There's no doubt that Zane still lives, because if he didn't the Emperor would have no reason to take any interest I'm him at all. He'd have been dead ten times over. Maybe he'll ask who are you? Or how do I know you? Or how do you know me? And Kai can explain to him that he loves him, he loves him, he loves him and that will make everything okay. It will. It has to.

Another long moment passes where the Emperor is crouched over him searching. Kai searches him too. Looks at everything in hope of finding the piece of the puzzle he can use to slot everything back into place. He's wearing completely different robes than he was before he was struck by the staff, white and gray and hand embroidered with diamonds made to glitter everytime he moved. His armor is growing fractals of ice in a messy, unkempt way. There's a patch where the icicles have been meticulously chipped away, but that chore was dropped and now they've been left to grow rampant. His face is dented and there's a patch of ice that's holding his jaw in place- an ugly crack from the corner of his mouth, a gap, and Kai can see where the connection between his mandible and skull has been snapped. The lopsided frown makes the break even more apparent.

The hand on his face is covered by a pure white glove. The hand on the staff is bare other than a thick case of ice, and Kai can see clear through it to the mess underneath. The titanium casing on his hand has been split apart to reveal his skeletal structure below. Kai has spent enough time in Jay and Nyas' mechanic lair under the monastery to have at least somewhat of a grasp on the basics of Zanes parts, so he knows what he's looking at. More specifically, he knows what he's not looking at. Wire- important wires, the ones Nya complains about because they have to special order them and they take ages to come- are missing. Not torn out, but neatly trimmed down near his wrist. The structure boning for his pinkie is gone, removed in the same clean fashion. There's more- Kai only knows so much, but he can tell the machinery underneath looks far more barren than a few wires and bone. Lloyd told them about the message in that cave, where he'd tried to fix the mech.

Kai can see it clearly in his mind. Zane, desperate and alone, taking the edge of a ninja star and sliding it along the near Invisible seam holding the casing of his hand together and shoving, cracking the connection points until it pops clean off. He and the mechs used the same type of wiring, after all.

The Emperor's voice is quiet when he speaks, the unfamiliar deep grit softening in the question meant just for the space between them, "Why do I hate you so much?"

Kais heartbreak over what might have happened in the cave stalls, every part of his mind thrown off rhythm with a question he never would have guessed he'd be asked. He can't articulate a response because he can't understand why Zane would hate him, and why that emotion would be leaking out into the Ice Emperor now.

"Zane-" He starts before his mouth is sealed shut with a layer of ice. Brain freeze hits first, sharp and cruel and like an icepick up through the roof of his mouth. Frost invades his mouth and glues his teeth together, crawling halfway down his throat. It hurts all the way to the roots of his teeth and he thrashes on instinct, bouncing his head off hard stone before he can control his reaction. Every part of his face hurts. There's a terrifying moment where the ice spreads over the back of his throat and seals off his sinuses and he's certain the Emperor has finally decided to kill him by suffocating him to death.

But the ice recedes almost as quickly as it came, though the Emperor keeps his hand over Kais mouth as a reminder not to slip up again. That was worse than the first time he'd done it, Kai doesn't want to know how bad it might be next.

The Ice Emperor's face is terrifyingly blank, a mask that gives absolutely nothing to Kai, so empty it scares him more than anything he's done so far. The interest in his eyes has fractured, and underneath is a hatred that makes the black of his pupils seem darker.

"You and your friends," his voice is still gentle, chillingly calm, "I hate all of you so much. I do not know why, but I do. I want to punish you."

Kai’s heart is jack rabbiting in his chest, beating at his ribs as adrenaline floods his system with nowhere to go. Fight or flight and he can't do either.

He takes his hand off Kai's mouth, "Speak." He orders.

Kai is woefully unprepared, stumbling over himself to try and come up with some way to remind Zane who he is. Lloyd told him that Zane said he loved them in his goodbye video. Why did that change? Was it the staff corrupting his mind? But the staff can only feed feelings that were already there. Did some part of Zane, some small part, really hate him?

"You're sick," he tries, his tongue darting out to try and wet chapped lips but its been hours since he's had a drink and his mouth is dry, "The staff is altering your mind, Zane. This isn't you. We're all friends! We love you!" He isn't above pleading and he pours desperation into each word, "You have to remember! I love you!"

The Emperor tilts his head inquisitively to the side as his expression flickers along the edges. Kai still knows Zane well enough to pick up on the minute changes- not a hint of it is kind. Whatever Kai said picked something loose, but not enough. Not enough. The light In his eyes changes but not in any way Kai can understand. He presses his finger to Kais mouth and seals it with another layer of ice, stopping his words. The air is thick, fraught with a tension so strong Kai can barely breathe through it. The Emperor looks at him. His eyes are so dark. He can still see Zane in everything the man does.

"I waited for you," the Ice Emperor speaks slowly, sounding out the sentence as if reaffirming its truth. A piece of Zane, just a sliver- a curiosity for the man crouched before him. It's a feeling, a certainty of a grievous crime, "And you never came."

It's bone chilling hatred.

It's betrayal.

Kais heart drops through his stomach and cracks to pieces on the icy floor. No no no-! He can't wrench his jaw free of his muzzle but he tries desperately to. He tries to scream, to howl and pour heat into his mouth- fire reacts to his devotion to his family, rushing through his body but again Kai is not enough.

We didn't know! We couldn't have known! We came as soon as we could! He thrashes on the floor, tries to bash his jaw down to shatter ice. He wants to grab the Emperor by the shoulders and shake shake shake him until his head pops off. I would have torn apart the sixteen realms to get to you! He's crying and the tears sting where they drip down his face. I would do anything!

He slumps, boneless and sore where his skin bruises on stone. He's thirsty, he's starving, and he's so so cold. The fire flickers out of him back down to an ember, faint and comforting if not much else. He blinks the wet from his eyes and sees the Emperors white white robes are stained with blood at the bottom. Above him, the tyrant moves.

Kai pushes himself back, the reality really sinking in. He was going to die here. No! he couldn't! He couldn't let Zane do this because when they got him back- and they would get him back, Kai has to believe that- he would never forgive himself. His back hits a pillar of ice and he looks around wildly, trying to figure out some way to get out of this, a smoking gun, a dues ex machina- anything! To stop what's coming.

He can do nothing. He squeezes his eyes shut as the Ice Emperor cups his cheek gently- but there's no ice stabbing into his brain, no agony of a literal ice pick lobotomy. The Emperors thumb wipes away an errant tear. A heartbeat passes before Kai hesitantly looks up at him.

The Emperor's face is still and serene, "I am not going to kill you, Kai." There is a moment of relief, even an inkling of hope before the chill comes.

It seeps into his skin from the Emperor's hand, down down through his face- It pours like slush through fat and muscle, cutting through his cheek to burn his gums and freeze the nerves in his teeth. It gets colder. Kai tries to dislodge his hand but the Emperor jerks forward and slams him down, holding his head against the stone floor as he pours ice into his blood faster, more brutal. Kai can't scream, his jaw locking against the bite of frost. It gets colder. It burns like the road rash he’d gotten the first time he’d wrecked his motorcycle, but a million times worse. Pain overwhelms all of his senses until he forgets how to breathe, hyperventilating and trying miserably to suck in enough air through his nose. His mouth is still sealed shut, he can't get enough air- he can't- His vision flickers with black spots.

It gets colder.

Feeling stops, numbness spreading like a balm over dying nerves. He stops struggling, taking advantage of the respite to catch his breath. His chest hurts with how hard his heart beats. His head is spinning. He looks up at the Ice Emperor with exhausted eyes and finds no pity, and especially no mercy. As Kai had struggled and sobbed in agony, he’d watched it all happen. He’d just watched. Kai is aware of the hand in his face by pressure alone, feeling blissfully gone.

The Ice Emperor takes his hand away.

He lays there and breathes, a tingling feeling spreading over his cheek. Pins and needles that turn sharper and sharper. With the loss of cold, feeling creeps back in and Kai is slowly aware of every inch of dying skin the frostbite has decimated. It hurts- it hurts like nothing he's ever experienced. He can't comprehend the pain, his mind blanking out as the blood roars in his ear. His vision goes gray at the edges as he struggles to stay awake. He can't pass out- he has to bring Zane back. He has to. He can't let him hurt the others. He can’t fail him like he did with the fight against Aspheera. Kai has to be enough. Please let him be enough.

The Emperor cards a hand through Kai's bangs, deceptively gentle as he wipes sweat slick hair off his forehead.

"I want you to suffer."

[technoxenoholic]

instead of magical healing that can poof your severed limbs right back into existence a la terrified abled person's ableist fantasy of reassurance, i think following the rule of "you can't create something from nothing" and the basic common sense of "if you try to reattach a limb which has already started to rot then you are going to have to deal with the consequences of having a rotting limb" has a lot more potential for storytelling (even aside from the question of ableism, which is obviously a big and important question to be asking and answering about/within your setting, but other people have said it better than i have the spoons to say it)

modern medical science can reattach a digit if it's been disconnected only very recently, but it will never have its full original functionality again. mobility and sensory capability will be limited. and i do think magic should be a little more powerful (because that's kind of the whole point of magic in a story), but not by too much, so maybe if you magically reattach a larger limb straight away (like within the same time frame as for digit reattachment surgery, a few hours or up to a day at very most if it's been kept cool and protected enough) it should successfully reattach, but that limb is never going to work the same again, just like a reattached finger in real life won't. those nerves and blood vessels and tendons and muscle fibers and everything else have been severed, and that's going to leave an impact after reattachment even if the limb in question hasn't deteriorated any!

and if it has already started to deteriorate just don't do it. don't invite gangrene into your life. c'mon now. Gangrene Can Fucking Kill You.

[blurred-noise]

space dragon dragon of space spacedragon is such a drag

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