#they're all going to die from heart attacks at 20

[kayberrie]

SW Headcannons

The first time Rex has real, good coffee, he starts crying (happy tears). All the coffee on the ship slowly starts disappearing, and the next day Ahsoka finds him in a storage closet, surrounded by a mountain of coffee rations. She promises not to tell, as long as he shares. They make a pinky-promise on it (because that is totally something the clones would do, no I am not taking questions).

The first close call, though, came when Cody was making a routine inspection on the ship. He passed right by, but with his mom-friend powers he 'sensed' something wrong with one of the storage spaces. Rex has to subtly comm Ahsoka, who's busy with Jedi stuff. He must use the last resort. Fives answers immediately, and doesn't question why his captain wants him to blow something up. It works, and Cody bolts out to find out where the fire came from.

Unfortunately, though, Fives gets curious, and the secret eventually spreads to the entire 501st. Most of them find it amusing, but don't particularly care. But there's a few, like Jesse and Hardcase, who take it to heart. Other battalions begin to notice their coffee rations are disappearing. Nobody ever catches the 501st, because although they're often a hot mess, those boys are terrifying when united for a cause.

Soon, the 501st has turned into an unstoppable menace due to the unhealthy amount of caffeine they're drinking.

The one brother who can never know, though, is Kix. The vod even have to avoid drinking too much before their check-ins, as he might get suspicious about the crazy amounts of caffeine in their bodies. Despite their terrible lying skills, he never finds out. He might even steal from the stash on particularly late shifts (they'll never ask, because Kix is scary. Don't mess with the medic).

They're so overcaffinated that nobody questions it when Fives and Ahsoka disappear for a few days, and Palpatine mysteriously dies. Everybody lives happily ever after, and Senator Amidala makes sure that the clones all get extra coffee rations (Ahsoka too, because she couldn't escape her crazy brother's antics).

[mercvry-glow]

you, me, and empty space between us

parings. jack abbot x doctor!reader

warnings. widower!jack, age gap as always (jack late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), jack literally talks reader off the ledge, undefined relationship but they're clearly in love and going through something, unspecified mental health issues, panic attacks, possible suicidal ideation, talks of losing people, bittersweet ending though.

notes. ever since we learned jack was a widower i've been cursed with angsty thoughts. I think this one is really hard as we see both the reader and jack struggle with each other. I love them your honor, and I'm really in my noah kahan loneliness era for this man. as always any feedback is appreciated and I love all of you!

wc. 2700+

You don’t know when it had become so hard to breathe.

It wasn’t after the first patient death, or even the fourth or fifth. That was just life in the Pitt, and you had grown accustomed to it long ago… at least that’s what you thought.

It certainly wasn’t when he had walked in—Jack Abbot, all swagger and scruff, fresh on shift while you were finishing yours. You truly don’t know when you came to love him as more than a mentor. Maybe it was in the quiet, exhausted nights on his couch, or the rare mornings when your coffee mugs clinked in place of words.

Never open, always tucked away.

And maybe that’s why it hits you like a punch to the chest—because it’s something so small, something that you have no business caring about.

A glint of gold as he reaches for his first chart of the night.

His wedding band.

Still there. Still shining. Still hers.

And your breath just… goes. Like someone pulled the air from your lungs and replaced it with something heavy and wet and cruel.

You don’t even remember walking to the lockers. Just the click of the door behind you, the fluorescent lights buzzing too loud, and the burn behind your eyes as your hands shook, held tight against your sides. Everything became too much all at once. 

God, you're so tired.

Tired of the codes and the screaming and the silence that follows. Tired of watching children and parents die and pretending you’re not breaking a little more each time. Tired of watching your friends break each and every day more and more as this job steals their youth like it’s doing to yours. Tired of giving your heart to a man who, no matter how gently he touches you, will never touch you like you’re loved by him.

Not like he touched her.

You don't even cry. Not at first. You just run up the stairs, heart hammering like it's trying to escape, destination both known and unknown to your frazzled brain. Then you do cry—loud, ugly, shoulder-shaking sobs that don't stop. Not even when someone passes. Not even when your pager buzzes again.

You make it up to the roof before anyone sees you.

The cold Pittsburgh wind bites at your cheeks, but at least here, you can breathe again. 

Kind of.

 You wrap your arms around yourself, eyes burning as you stare out over the city like it's supposed to give you some kind of answer.

But it doesn't.

It never does.

You’re not even sure how long you’ve been up here.

The city stretches out below, distant and indifferent—cars moving like blood cells in some great, uncaring artery. You’ve spent your whole life trying to keep things alive, and now, standing here, arms wrapped around yourself in the wind, you’re not sure how to keep yourself going.

It’s not just Jack.

 It’s everything.

You’re tired in your bones. In your soul, if that’s a thing people really have.

Tired of the endless codes that ring like alarms in your dreams. Tired of holding hands that go cold while families scream down the hall. Tired of smiling when you’re empty. Laughing when your throat aches from swallowing everything you can’t say.

Tired of being second. 

To a memory. 

To a career.

 To a system that chews you up and spits you back out with new scars and fewer tears left to give.

You love your job. God, you do. But lately it feels like it’s eating you alive. And no one sees it. No one wants to see it.  Because you're the one who keeps it together. The calm in the storm. The smile at the desk. The one who always says, “I’m fine. Go. I’ve got this.”

But you don’t.

You don’t got this. Not anymore

You’re drowning.

And Jack—Jack is just the wound you thought you could bandage, only to realize it was deeper than you ever let yourself admit.

You see the way he softens when he talks about her, the few times you got to hear. 

The weight in his voice when he says her name.

And you? You’re the comfort. The quiet. The body he falls into when his ghosts get too loud, too much to handle alone.

But not the one he chooses.

Never the one he chooses.

A sob claws its way up your throat, and this time you don’t stop it. You sink, knees scraped by the roof's edge, standing past the metal railing and let it all go—the grief, the love, the years of being almost enough in every aspect of your life.

You cry until you’re raw. Until your breath hitches like a broken record.

Until you feel like there’s nothing left inside you. 

And still, the world keeps turning. The city lights don’t flicker. The wind doesn’t pause.

You are so deeply, achingly alone.

And in this moment, you don't even want to be saved. You just want to rest. 

To be done. 

“You know,” comes a familiar voice behind you, easy and low, “if you wanted to get me alone on the rooftop , all you had to do was ask. I would’ve brought you coffee.”

You flinch. Just barely. But he sees it.

Jack steps closer, hands tucked in his cargo pockets like he’s just wandered up here on a whim, not after checking every paitent room and hallway trying to find you. There’s that half-smile tugging at his mouth, the one he uses like armor—dry wit and soft hazel eyes, his whole coping mechanism wrapped in a single expression.

But the smile falters when you don’t answer.

When he really looks at you.

You’re standing with your hands pulled to your chest, fingers white-knuckled in your scrubs, eyes red and swollen. Shoulders shaking just enough to make him stop in his tracks after realizing you’re past the guard rail. 

“Hey,” he says again, quieter this time. “What happened?”

You shake your head. A tiny, useless motion. You can't even bring yourself to look at him, back still turned.

He steps toward you, trying to search your face. “Talk to me. Did something happen with a patient? Was it that kid from earlier? Or—”

“No,” you whisper, barely audible. “It’s nothing.”

“That,” he says, voice a touch sharper, “is a lie. And a bad one, kid.”

You let out a bitter little laugh that turns into another sob. “Everything’s just… too much.”

Jack doesn’t speak right away. Just watches you, the tension in his jaw building slowly. “You’re scaring me,” he admits, quietly.

“Fuck,” you snap through the tears. “Now you actually see me?.”

That stuns him. You can sense it—how his shoulders tighten, how his eyes scanning like they’ve missed something right in front of them.

You wobble, or try to move—your knees tremble under you, and Jack moves instantly, hands ready to grab you. 

You pull away.

“I’m tired, Jack,” you say, voice breaking. “So goddamn tired. Of being here. Of being overworked. Of watching people die. Of pretending I don’t care that you still wear her ring when you’re in my bed.”

Silence slams between you.

He swallows hard, words clearly stuck in his throat.

“I know she meant everything to you,” you say, softer now. “And I would never try to take her place. But it’s killing me. Being your person… Being the one you come to… but never for.”

His mouth opens, then closes again.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “And look, now I’m making my issues about you again. God, I’m tired of that too.”

Jack steps forward, hesitant, like he’s approaching something fragile. Or dangerous. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I didn’t want to make it real,” you whisper. “Because if I said it out loud, I’d have to admit that I’m not okay. That this job—this place—you—are breaking me.”

He’s quiet for a long time. The wind whistles around you both, cold and uncaring.

“I didn’t know,” he finally says. “I should’ve. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

You look up at him, exhausted and open and completely undone. “I don’t want you to say sorry. I just… I wanted to matter.”

“You do,” he says, quick and firm. “You matter to me,”

You shake your head again, biting back another sob.

He doesn’t try to touch you this time. He just stands there in the silence you’ve created, eyes on yours like they’re the only thing he sees now.

And maybe—for the first time—they are.

Jack exhales slowly, like he’s trying to steady his own heart before he reaches for yours.

“You wanna know something?” he says, his voice rough but quiet. “First week I met you, I thought you weren’t cut out for this. All business, too rigid, straight spine, soft. Honestly? Scared the hell out of me, I thought you’d be gone by the end of the week.”

You huff, tired, but something like a breath of a laugh escapes you.

“But then you stayed two hours after your shift because a twelve-year-old was afraid of needles,” he continues. “And I saw it. That heart of yours—the one you hide behind clipped words and all that damn competence. You care so much it hurts you.”

He pauses, lets that sink in. You turn your face slightly toward him, just enough for him to see your profile in the wind.

“I know you think nobody sees you,” Jack says. “That you’re just some extra in other people’s stories. But I see you. I always see you.”

Your lips part, but no words come.

“You’re the one holding the line when everyone else is cracking. You’re the one who stays up on nights like this, falling apart where no one can find you. But I found you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He steps forward again, slowly, cautiously. Like he’s giving you every chance to step back under the rails and hoping you don’t choose the other way down.

“I don’t wear this ring because I’m not over her,” he says, tugging at the band absently. “I wear it because she made me better. And you… you keep me better.”

That stops your breath cold.

“I never meant to make you feel like you were just something temporary,” he says. “You’re not. Not to me.”

“Then why not just say it?” you choke, voice trembling.

He looks at you like he wants to. Like the words are right there on his tongue—but something stops him. Not fear. Not doubt. Just the weight of everything this moment holds.

“I’m saying what I can,” he says instead. “Until I can say it all.”

He steps closer, right in front of you now, eyes searching yours.

“You matter, okay? Not just as my best resident. Not just as a damn good doctor. You matter to me. You’re not alone in this. Even if you feel like you are.”

Silence again. Heavy, but different this time.

“I don’t know what happens next,” he adds, quieter now. “But I know I don’t want to face it without you.”

You feel something give inside you—something that’s been clinging to the edge for weeks, maybe months. You don’t fall apart again, not this time. But you do lean forward. Just a little. Just enough.

Jack reaches out to touch you, wanting to pull you in. Standing right there on the other side of the guard rails, steady as gravity.

 Letting you decide.

You stand there for a second, barely breathing. His words echo in your chest, ringing against all the places that have been cracked and hollowed out.

You matter to me.

It shouldn't be enough. Not after all this. But somehow, it is. Or maybe it’s just enough to stop the bleeding.

Your shoulders slump as the tension you’ve carried finally starts to unwind. You don’t fall into him, not dramatically. You just… lean. Your forehead comes to rest against his chest, tentative, uncertain. But you stay there.

And Jack? He doesn’t hesitate.

His arms move around you with a kind of quiet reverence—gentle but solid, like he’s anchoring you to the hospital roof. One hand settles between your shoulder blades, the other against the back of your head, cradling you like he’s afraid you’ll break again.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he murmurs against your hair.

“I scared myself,” you whisper back, voice hoarse.

“You could’ve told me,” he says, not accusing—just brokenhearted.

“I didn’t know how,” you admit. “I thought if I said it out loud, I’d lose everything and never come back together.”

Jack pulls back just enough to look at you. His thumb brushes gently along your wind bitten cheeks, catching a stray tear you didn’t even feel fall.

“You are coming back together,” he says, firm but soft. “Right now. Piece by piece. You’re still here. That’s what matters.”

You nod, barely, like you’re still trying to believe him.

“I don’t need you to be okay all the time,” he continues. “You don’t have to be strong for anyone. You get to fall apart. You get to feel this.”

“But what if it doesn’t stop?” you whisper, voice cracking. “What if it just keeps coming?”

“Then we’ll face it together,” he says, without missing a beat. “Shift by shift. day by day. As long as it takes.”

Your eyes search his, and for once, there’s no hiding behind sarcasm or guarded silences. Just truth. And maybe something deeper behind it—something he’s still not quite ready to name, but it’s there. Burning steady like a soft fire.

You close your eyes, letting yourself rest in the warmth of him, in the safety of this rooftop moment.

And for the first time in weeks—maybe longer—you take a full, deep breath.

You both stand like that for a long time—no words, just breath and heartbeat and wind. The hum of the city below feels miles away, like a different world. Up here, it's just the two of you.

Eventually, Jack shifts a little, his arms still around you. His voice is soft, barely above the wind.

“Hey,” he says gently. “How about we get back on the safer side of the rail, yeah?”

You realize, with a sudden twist in your stomach, that you’re still on the wrong side. Still too close to the edge, with nothing but cold air and steel keeping you tethered.

You don’t move right away. Your fingers grip the rail, not because you want to jump—God, no—but because the world still feels unsteady. Like if you let go, you might float off into something you can't control.

Jack doesn’t rush you.

He stays with you, warm and steady at your side, hands never leaving you. “One step,” he says softly. “Just one. I’ve got you.”

You look at him, and there’s nothing performative in his expression. No pity. No fear. Just calm, unwavering care.

You nod once. Then slowly, carefully, you swing your leg over the first bar. He helps you the rest of the way, hands guiding you gently, like you’re something precious. When both feet land solidly on the rooftop again, you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until it finally releases in a shaky exhale.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Safe and sound. Mostly.”

You laugh, barely. “I must look like a mess.”

“You look like someone who’s been through hell,” Jack says. “And is still standing. That’s not a mess. That’s a goddamn miracle.”

You look up at him, eyes glassy, and something flickers between you. Quiet. Heavy. Unspoken.

His hand lifts slowly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, then lingering—fingertips grazing your jaw, gentle as rain. He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize the moment.

“Can I…” he starts, then stops, catching himself. “I’m not asking to fix it. I just—”

You answer by leaning in.

It’s not rushed. Not desperate. Just soft. Slow. Like an exhale. Like the kind of kiss that says I’m still here. I still want this.

His lips meet yours, warm and steady, one hand still at your waist, the other against your cheek. There’s no fire in it—not tonight. Just light. Just steady comfort.

When you pull back, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing a little easier now.

“You sure about this?” you whisper.

Jack doesn’t even blink. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m sure.”

You nod. You believe him. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you believe in yourself again, too.

mercvry-glow 2025

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hey, you.

If you're American, and you've been having a hard week egg for.. reasons -

I have something to say to the Americans.

Just remember.

They aren't immortal.

Nobility has lied for centuries. They told us they were placed on the throne by God - the rule of the king being the will of the Creator.

The French proved them wrong.

You are young. They are human. They will one day die.

And on the day they die - regardless of if hell is real or not - there will be a movement when they are laying on that death bed. They will feel their live slipping from their grasp.

And they will feel the fear.

The possiblity of eternal consequence.

They will fear what waiting for them on the other side. The one journey they cannot buy their way out of. The moment the bell tolls for thee.

And honestly, the thought brings me peace.

Trumo and Elon AREN'T demons - though it's so easy to think of them as so.

They are evil humans. And all humans die. Trump? He's 80. He's over three times my age. He's older than my grandmother. He eats McDonald's and Diet Coke like no one's business. Knock on wood I'm betting he's got ten years TOPS.

('I'll be the last president' - my ass. If you take a bad fall it's game over dude. You won't release your health records cause you're most likely due for a heart attack soon mfer. Your minions don't like your candy ass Junior enough to have him as a successor and Baron doesn't fucking care so realistically speaking whats your game plan here? 🤨 Elon's kids have too many daddy issues to take your place. You can't even use a sword. Napoleon would slay you where you fucking stand you pansy)

So if you've been struggling this week, I just wanted to remind you.

Black people won our civil rights without the support from the media, without online social networks, without the support from 90% of white people.

70 years ago, around when my grandma was born - I could not sit next a white person in school. If a white man was walking towards me on the street, I'd have to step into the gutter and let him pass. At risk of being actually killed by the whole town if not.

Nowadays in my city I could tell a white guy my age 'Fuck you!!' to your face. Middle finger and all. And they're not gonna put me in jail for it. No stranger is gonna jump in. The whole town isn't gonna care. If anything, people will just record.

That all happened in ONE generation.

So no matter what Trump does.

Remember. He's not immortal. He will die like we all do.

You're young. You'll have the rest of your life to reverse everything he's done.

That's the thing about personality cults. Once the personality is removed, the whole thing falls apart. And the personality in question is once again - an 80 year old who eats Big Macs and wears suits two sizes too large. A man who would probably get genuinely upset if you asked him to recite his 8 times tables.

If Trump dies in the next 10-20 years, before he turns 100, I'll be 35-45. a.k.a - my generation will be entering the older majority. Our generation will be the eldest and the most influencial. What then?

The Trumpettes won't have their leader for their personality cult so they'll have no one - not even their republican parents - to tell them who to think.

We'll be older, wiser. We'll teach our kids the signs. We'll tell them stories what to do, and invest pubic funds to conserve the history of our fight - to never be erased.

If you're scared this week, I understand.

But remember. We've fought harder with less - and we still won.

So keep your head up. Doom is the tool of the enemy. You keep going, you keep living, and you survive to tear down their legacy while the bastard spins in his grave.

Keep going. Keep your angry hearts and clenched fists. Hold on tight to your love and rage. And keep going.

That's what Hobie would want. That's what a Hobie is there to teach us.

Hope this helped someone, anyone, even if it was a little bit. If this helps you get through the day, or the next hour, with the smallest bit of hope - that's all I want.

Thanks for reading this far! Here's Hobie :)

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

And bonus:

Ayo I just gotta add this in here -

Word to god, and when I say this I say this with my whole chest -

I'd be DAMNED before I ever say I'm scared of Donald Trump.

First of all, I'm black and poor. There's been a white man wanting me dead since the moment I left my Mama's hoohaa and guess what, I'm still here. That mfer ain't special. Call me when the klansmen come not when done mfers with tiki torches cosplay call of duty.

Cause none of them coming to the hood..tf.. Try that shit in neighborhood with Bloods and Crips.. Y'all not the only ones with automatics and lots of money. It's just the black people with money and automatics keep shit quiet. If these racist mfers had ppl breaking in they house the way Kendrick had mfers breaking in Drake's with choppers they'd be terrified as fuuuckkk

And secondly there's 4chan fellas out there that probably legit jack off to the idea of a black queer trans person crying in fear. And those mfers can kiss my black ass and kick rocks cause I wake up every day smiling. So -

Anyway I'm done lol

I just had to get this out of my system lol. OKAY BYE FOR REAL

[discordiansamba]

What do you think about the hinted possibility that Rin lives A LOT longer than everyone else? What about Yukio (he sorta awakens, right?)? What are some your headcanons for say, 20-25 years into the future?

oh I go sort of insane for that, actually. 100% I feel like it's something that has, in fact, occurred to Rin as a possibility that he is very deliberately not thinking about and will continue to not think about until he literally finds himself without that luxury anymore. his friends are all getting older, but he still doesn't look that different from when he was in his mid-twenties.

(or: Rin suddenly gets really, really busy at work all of a sudden and can't make time to see his friends- until Shura gets sick of his crap and drags him into an intervention.)

personally I just love the headcanon that the (now former) exwires make sure to take really good care of their health so that they can live as long as possible, but they also make sure to basically entrench rin into their families so that even after they're gone, rin's not alone.

(shiemi lives to the ripe old age of like. 115, by the way. that's not even due to the fact that she's a nephilim she'd just do that anyways lmao. tiny grandma and her handsome, absurdly youthful husband who still says she's as beautiful as the day they met.)

I think Yukio has a normal human lifespan myself. he's human, after all. His death 100% hits Rin the hardest, and he sticks to Yukio's side like glue once it becomes obvious he doesn't have much time left. Rin says the younger brother isn't supposed to die first, but Yukio just chuckles and reminds him he was only born a few minutes ahead of him.

(but also: very cute to imagine Rin basically taking care of his friends in their old age. I imagine they all stay relatively spry, but Suguro. if you don't get down off that ladder this instant. you are going to give me a heart attack, you geezer! they get a little frustrated sometimes because Rin kind of treats them like they're made of glass, but they do understand where he's coming from, at least.)

[hyperthusiast]

To celebrate the completion of my longest fic yet (115,106 words - how the fuck did that happen???), I thought I'd share all my current Hazbin Hotel fic plans! (Yeah, this is partially so I have a written list, cause I keep adding more.)

Red with Envy

Obviously, this is still my AppleMedia WIP, and I have no idea how long it's going to end up being. I have a rough idea of the next 5-6 chapters, but I'll be honest, I don't know where it's going after that. (And no, that is NOT a good ending point; there is a very big issue that will need to be solved, I just currently have no idea how that will be done.)

Cherri Bang Fic

I'm writing a fic for @cherribangevent but I can't share much about it. All I can say is that it will be StaticApple.

A Killer Internship (working title)

This will be another long RadioStatic fic, that will start when they're alive and go into post-Season 1. In life, Vox (then Victor) interns at a radio station under Alastor, but his eyes are set on the prize money for catching the local serial killer. The two men become close, and Victor struggles with some of the things he's feeling for his boss (it's the 20s, so yeah, we're getting internalized homophobia from Mr. Gotta-Be-the-Perfect-Son - daddy issues thrown in for free!), but eventually the shoe drops, and Alastor realizes that Victor's gotten too close to learning the truth and their goals are not compatible. Years later, the old friends reunite in Hell, and Vox is determined that things will be different this time when he approaches his old mentor for an internship under a new name. It's a fresh start, and it has to go better than how things went on Earth - right?

Virgin Sacrifice

This is a StaticApple fic that also takes place when Vox was alive, and it's not as smutty as the title makes it sound. Vox is the leader of a devil-worshipping cult, and he's decided to attempt a summoning. It may be risky, but he has several virgin followers that he's convinced to offer themselves as a sacrifice. Except when Lucifer appears before them, he's not interested in any of them. He's only interested in Vox, and he's... not what Vox expected. And now there's a risk that Vox hadn't anticipated - that he might actually be falling for the devil. Side note: This fic has the potential for a sequel, depending on demand, which would take place with Vox and Lucifer meeting again after Season 1. But there would be a strong possibility for that going in an AppleMedia direction cause Alastor is demanding, and he'd have to be involved.

Cruel Mercy

This is another long AppleMedia fic, and is the one I have the least planned for currently. Vox miscalculated when he attacked the Hazbin Hotel. He'd thought he'd be able to destroy Alastor and his little pet project once and for all, but instead he's ended up at the wrong end of an angelic spear. Except, Little Miss Bleeding Heart wants to offer him a chance, all he has to do is join the Hazbin Hotel. It's the last thing that Vox wants - or perhaps the second to last thing because he also doesn't want to die. So, he agrees. Vox joins the Hazbin Hotel under the constant supervision of both Alastor and Lucifer, and if this is what mercy feels like, it's suspiciously similar to torture.

And that's all I have right now! (Hopefully all I'll have for a while, cause it'll take me forever to get through all of these.) Right now, I'm just focusing on Red with Envy and my Cherri Bang fic, but I'm so excited for all of these.

[imhereforscm]

Scorpio—dating a Greek MC and meeting her family in Greece

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: I received a request, asking me to write a headcanon of Scorpio with a Greek MC. 😭����🇷💙🤍 Which is heavily inspired from @colourless-hydrangeas 's Teorus × Desi Reader post (I adore when people insert their cultures into their self inserts, because all cultures are beautiful 😭😭❤️❤️❤️). Also, this headcanon ended up coming out as a self insert, because I am Greek lol. Enjoy!!💙🤍💙🤍

That's ⬇️ the temple of Poseidon, btw. It's located in Sounion. I've been there. It's beautiful. I was looking for the pictures I took myself, but I can't find them. So have one from Pinterest instead. 😭😭

You think Scorpio has anger issues??? Have you seen a Greek on the road???

MC's grandma will see him and say how beautiful he is and then her mom will go: "Spit him! You'll give him the bad eye!" And then grandma will proceed to say "ftou ftou" and move her three fingers in a cross motion.

If he starts yawning during dinner, people will say he has a bad eye and the grandma will call some cousin of hers for "xematiasma". Then, she'll hung up and tell Scorpio not to sleep, until the xematiasma is done, or else the bad eye will get worse. 🧿

20 minutes later—"Scorpio, my boy, shift in your chair for the xematiasma to work."

He's a new face entering a Greek household. Which automatically means, everyone screaming (like Greeks always do) and panicking, because the food needs to be a culinary masterpiece, because a Greek's pride and honour, is the ✨food✨.

Scorpio soon finds out that he can basically convince his Greek girlfriend of anything if he goes through her stomach.

His plate will be so full, the contents are rivaling the Burj Khalifa in height.

"Grandma, maybe he doesn't want to eat that much—" "Shut up. He's so THIN! And if he doesn't want to eat everything, I'll pack them in a bowl and he can take it home."

If he's coming to Greece during Easter, MC will have to warn him about the numerous stern faces eyeing him to see his first reaction to Magiritsa.

One time I ate 3-4 plates of Magiritsa in one sitting and then I slept and snored like a fucking monster. So if he doesn't want it, meh. More for me.

A grandpa who never finished elementary school and wants to teach Scorpio about the different dialects in all parts of Greece, of course, cannot be missing from this table.

EVERYONE at the table is going. "Scorpio, do you want Feta?" "Scorpio, do you want wine?" "Tzatziki?" "You ate your feta, you want more?" "You want music?" "That lazy daughter of mine forgot to give you more feta?! (Name)!! Quit eating with ten jaws and give your boyfriend some feta!"

(Name): *whispering to Scorpio*: "For the love of god, if you say you don't want any more Feta, the table will explode and the eldest will die of a heart attack. Just suck it up. Gods can eat a lot. It's okay."

And of course everyone is yelling.......... Because that's what ✨🇬🇷Greeks🇬🇷✨ do.

MC will also have to warn Scorpio before hand that, if suddenly, her grandparents start throwing plates and glasses on the floor and breaking them... He must not worry. That's how they're having fun.

If Scorpio breaks something by accident, they'll just say it's "Gouri" (good luck) and pat his arm.

Also... Lots of politics and swearing. And anger.

So much anger.

So much yelling.

Now, judging people based on their country's stereotypes is not okay........ BUT, AS A GREEK, I CAN PROMISE YOU, WE GREEKS ARE THE STEREOTYPES!! SO YOU HAVE MY BLESSINGS TO BELIEVE ANY STEREOTYPES YOU HEAR ABOUT US. BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL TRUE

"Μαλάκα" = Malaka = a Greek's favourite word to use everywhere, in any order. A word that defies grammar and gender and everything in between. ✨Malaka✨

Also, "μούτζα" = "moutza". It's basically a vulgar gesture where you keep your fingers spread and your palm out and you point it to a person....... Here's a video about it.

Plus, a big talk about Greece's history, starting from Ancient Greece and going through all the wars and the national days, our traditions and EVERYTHING.

"Idk what this useless daughter of ours has told you, but have you ever heard of the Kalikatzari that come during Christmas and cause havoc in the kitchen? So it's a Greek tale, about Jesus and—"

Scorpio will be enjoying all sorts of traditional dishes. Like. Gemista, Saganaki, pasta with Kima, SEA FOODS!!!!, a BUNCH of meat to last a lifetime, Dolmadakia, Spinach Pie, Cheese Pie, Magiritsa.

+ if he's coming during Christmas: Melomakarona and Kourabiedes.😭✨🙏✨😭 And Vasilopita😩✨

AND SOUVLAKI!!!!!!!!!!!!! IF A VISITOR DOESN'T EAT SOUVLAKI THEY'RE NOT LEAVING GREECE OMGGGGG!!!!

"Let me tell you about olives—" 🫒

Have you noticed that I'm just talking about food this whole time and Scorpio meeting her family around a table?..... What did I tell you about Greeks being all about food???

Also, if Scorpio and MC decide to leave, her mom will 10000% yell say "BRING A JACKET WITH YOU!!!" Is it 40°C outside??? Yes. Will she still tell you to bring a jacket with you??? Yes.

Basically...

We're loud.

We have WAY too much anger to fit in a mere mortal body.

Too much cheese and meat in EVERY. SINGLE. DISH.

And did I mention; WE'RE LOUD AND ANGRY!!! :DDDDDDDD

And we're BIG, HUGE foodies.

But we're welcoming. And warm. And it doesn't matter where you come from, a Greek will love to show you their culture and will consider you part of our already huge enough families the moment you learn to say "Malaka".

...

...

...

...

And they'll feed you until you pop like a bomb. :DDDDD✨✨✨✨

Until next time I want Souvlaki BYEE!!!!!😭😭🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹✨🌹✨🌹✨🌹✨🌹✨🌹✨🌹✨🌹✨🌹✨🌹✨🌹🌹❤️❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹

HEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEH

[beautifulhigh]

The longer this cold goes on, the angrier I get and I either need talking down off this ledge or I need someone to be my Spartan wife and nod their agreement that I should go off on one.

So...

Be me

Give lifts to someone to/from Bootcamp each week because they don't drive and so you are the only way they could attend this class. (They somewhat have the option of the earlier one in the evening but For Reasons this is currently the better options for them.)

Have a set time frame of a 10 minute window you will be there to collect them, as traffic can slow you down. You always text when you are near/there. HOWEVER... they are almost always late and you still end up sitting there for a good five minutes most nights.

You've also had to speak to her about slamming your car door shut so violently it's made your ears ring.

Also each trip there/back is taken up with her life, issues, problems (see the For Reasons) and you're lucky if you get a "so how are you" in the seconds before we arrive at the destination.

Anyway

Last week, you get a text on the Monday saying she's not well so won't be at class. No further details are given. On Wednesday she says she is "feeling better" and wants to come back.

You pick her up.

She is coughing. A lot. She's had the cold that's doing the rounds, the one that has wiped people out.

At class she wants to work with you so you're with her, sharing equipment for an hour. You drive her home.

In the biggest not surprise, have a heart attack and die from not surprise, you get sick.

Which means you now have to avoid your parents because your mum has no immune system and so things like this can make her really ill for a really long time.

You live alone so they're pretty much your only human contact. And they're going away for over two weeks in a bit so you're looking at the best part of a month without seeing them.

Text this person to let them know, a) you're sick, b) you won't be at class, and c) the consequences of their actions. Their response is "it's just a cold, I didn't think" to which you point out they knew about your mum and so it's not a cold. They respond "I'm sorry, I will try to be more aware of others in future". You tell her that you will let her know when you're back.

Just over 24 hours later she texts you saying "I won't be at class on Monday, but if you're back by Wednesday then a lift would be good". To her credit she deletes this... about 20 minutes after, and sends a new one saying she was asking about lifts next week but she realised you might not be back then, and she hopes you're feeling better soon. She still typed out and sent that first one a day after saying she would be more considerate.

You spend the weekend pretty much in bed. You can't do anything else. It's the best weekend the UK had had in months and you can't enjoy it

You need to log into work on Monday morning to do some time-sensisitive stuff, but it's clear you're going to have to sign off and be sick for a few days. This means you're now likely to hit a trigger point for absence because you had that awful chest infection at the end of last year.

All this because she thought it was "just a cold" and it didn't matter that she was still coughing away like a champ. And IDK, I'm really tempted to say that at the end of this block she make arrangements to go back to the earlier one and just deal with it in terms of work, or find alternative travel. Because while being late is something that happens occasionally (but often enough to be remarked on), and she is now better at not slamming my car door, this feels like A Very Big Thing which speedruns right into "I can't do this anymore".

[covid-safer-hotties]

Alberta's COVID-19 death toll more than 4 times higher than flu over past year - Published Sept 9, 2024

By: Jennifer Lee

A year's worth of respiratory virus data for Alberta reveals, once again, COVID-19 is far deadlier than the flu.

The death toll due to the two illnesses, combined, topped 900 over the past year.

More than four times as many Albertans died due to COVID compared to influenza.

Alberta's respiratory dashboard shows flu was responsible for 177 deaths while 732 people died of COVID-19 (between Aug. 27, 2023, and Aug. 24, 2024).

"This is continual evidence that COVID is not just another flu," said Craig Jenne, professor in the department of microbiology, immunology and infectious diseases at the University of Calgary, noting influenza is not a benign virus.

"This is the most we've ever lost to flu, and COVID has still put up many more deaths than flu. So these remain significant viral diseases in Alberta. They remain a significant risk to some Albertans. And unfortunately, and tragically, they continue to take lives at a really unacceptable rate."

While they're high compared to influenza, Alberta's COVID deaths are trending down from a peak of 2,409 during 2021-22.

As a critical care specialist in Edmonton, Dr. Shelley Duggan sees the toll the disease continues to take on Albertans.

"We're seeing people who have COVID and all of the sudden are coming into hospital with blood clots, heart attacks, strokes. So we still are very much living in a COVID world," said Duggan.

There were 3,348 flu hospitalizations, and 6,070 people were admitted with COVID in the past year.

The province counts hospitalizations where the illnesses are either a primary or contributing factor.

Duggan points out COVID-19 is not seasonal but it ebbs and flows through the year.

Unlike early during the pandemic, she doesn't admit many patients to the ICU for severe COVID-related pneumonia. Instead, she treats people for whom the disease has exacerbated other health problems.

"We also have that at-risk population [including] people on chemotherapy, people post-transplant — people really who are immuno-suppressed and are at risk — or the frail elderly who we see," said Duggan, the president-elect of the Alberta Medical Association.

Alberta Health data shows 632 of the people who died of COVID were ages 70 and up, 81 were between 50 and 69 and 15 were in the 20 to 49 age range.

Four children under the age of 10 died of COVID in the past year.

The provincial government's dashboard states influenza and COVID deaths are counted when the illnesses are the cause of death or a contributing factor.

"We still have a significant proportion of people who will die either directly from COVID or having COVID that is going to set in motion other things. So we still have to be cognizant of it."

Both Jenne and Duggan say reversing the slumping vaccination rates will be essential for the next respiratory virus season.

Just under a quarter of Albertans received their flu shot during the 2023-24 season, while 16.9 per cent were immunized against COVID.

"It's going to be very vital that people get vaccinated this year to protect themselves, of course, but to also protect the vulnerable and to protect the hospital system, because we are already overflowing," said Duggan.

Alberta stopped offering XBB COVID-19 vaccines as of Aug. 31, following a Health Canada directive, an Alberta Health spokesperson said in an emailed statement.

Vaccines targeting more recent strains have yet to be approved by Health Canada.

A federal government notice to health professionals states that updated COVID-19 vaccines (designed to target the JN.1 or KP.2 strains) are expected to be authorized in time for fall immunization campaigns.

The province said more information on its upcoming immunization program will be made available in the coming weeks.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping?

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

20) Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?

21) Who cuts the others hair?

28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them?

8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

for either mutually destructive threesome or Ivy/Claudine!

I think I'm gonna do both. I'm bored ✨

First, mutually destructive threesome:

Who talks to the other when they sleep?

...All of them. They're Isle kids, it's easier to do feelings when the other can't hear it, yeah?

Not that. Not that they do feelings. At all.

Also, they're drama queens.

Who drives and who has the window seat?

Harriet drives most often. She should NOT be driving.

For one, her drivers license consists of a post it note with „I can do what I want to“ with Ben's signature and „Please, let her."

She should not be driving anyway but she likes the control. Being in a car someone else drives is Not Good.

Anthony drives sometimes. He's safer driver than Harriet. He likes to do the hand on gear shift - hand on knee thing.

Ginny is passenger princess.

Unless she wants to drive somewhere with Maddy - well. Harriet saw that once and proceeded to give them a lift from there on.

Who falls asleep in others lap and who carries them to bed?

They take turns collapsing ✨

Isle kids who refuse to take care of themselves and also are mostly just feral cats.

Who cuts others hair?

Anthony.

No question about this one. I mean, look at him.

Sometimes, the girls give themselves or eachother a "haircut" with a knife, which just means Anthony has to fix it.

Who writes poems//songs?

They do NO such thing, thank you for asking.

Harriet. She's a pretentious bitch like that. But you'd die very painfully long before getting to the diary in her drawer.

Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

None of them wear sweatshirts!

Ew-

(Ginny.)

Okay, moving on: Ivy and Claudine:

Who talks to the other when they're sleeping?

I'd say Claudine. Again, it's easier to deal with feelings when the other can't hear.

I don't think Ivy wants to extend effort for something that Claudine won't remember anyway though.

Who drives and who has the window seat?

Ivy drives. She also does the hand thing like Anthony.

And she also shouldn't be driving. You see, she just doesn't believe in driving laws. They're boring and slowing her down. Plus any car the de Vil cousins drive is tuned to hell and back. Plus there's enough funky shit going on with her brain that she shouldn't be granted a license. Don't worry tho Auradon didn't do mental assesments for that until WAY after Isle kids started driving.

Needless to say, it takes near act of god do get Claudine to a car every time.

Who falls asleep on others lap?

Ivy and Claudine just has to deal with it.

Who cuts others hair?

Given that Claudine still refuses to enter the Tremaine salon, Ivy.

She also gives a haircut to herself whe she is at it and yes it is for the sole purpose of giving the Tremaines a heart attack the next time she shows up.

Who writes poems/song?

Well maybe Claudine, repressed feelings and all, but it ends up in a fire real fast.

Probably good thing, too, Ivy would be insufferable if she found it.

Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

Again, they do NOT wear sweatshirts, what is WRONG with you?!

(Ivy refuses to touch these with a ten feet pole and while she has a bunch of coats liberated or given from Auntie's closet, she might be a tiny bit too jealous of these. Also, Claudine mostly refuses to wear them anyway.)

Frankly I don't think Claudine knows what a sweatshirt is.

[wanderingmind867]

Paul Kupperberg did, what, 17 issues of the Doom Patrol before killing off most of his own characters? I raise him one better. I can at least plot out 20 issues, and I can have none of the Doom Patrol members die. So while i'm at school waiting for class to start, i'm gonna start planning this out:

Issues #1-2: I'd have this be a two parter, and I'd have it keep the same general concept as Paul Kupperberg's Doom Patrol storyline. In issue one, we watch as Arani goes to the remains of the caribbean island where the original Doom Patrol died, and she discovers proof that the original members of the Doom Patrol might still be alive. Larry's bandages, Rita's headband and Niles' Wheelchair were all floating in the waters. This makes her deeply suspicious, so she decides to investigate the bottom of the island for a closer look. Then she falls into a trap, and part one ends with her having to call the other members of the Doom Patrol for help.

Cliff, Josh and Valentina receive her signal, and they rush to the caribbean to rescue Arani. It turns out she fell into a trap laid by Niles. Back when Niles first set up his secondary headquarters on this island, he built a series of deathtraps to protect himself and his allies from enemies. Turns out the traps still work, and they're now being used against the Doom Patrol (the group they were initially designed to protect). So the Doom Patrol have to break free of The Chief's old traps.

But once they have, they see the floating debris Arani found floating in the water earlier. And that's when they all realize: the original members of the Doom Patrol might still be alive, somewhere. But where? And how to find them? Those are the questions at hand…

Issues #3-4: Following up on the only lead they still have, the Doom Patrol realizes that they have to find Madame Rouge and General Zahl; to interrogate them on the events of many years past. But in order to find them, they're gonna need some help. Which means the re-entrance of Mento (Steve Dayton), who's absolutely ecstatic that his wife might still be alive somewhere. After she died, he lost all the humility she helped him to gain. Now he's a washed up, deeply bitter man. And only the news of her possible survival is enough to pull him out of his slump.

Anyways, he uses his wealth and connections to help the New Doom Patrol locate Madame Rouge and General Zahl. From there, it's all a simple matter of infiltrating their new hideout and getting them to tell them everything they know. But of course, nothing ever goes according to plan. They manage to find and fight their way to Madame Rouge and the General, and they do manage to learn that they barely recall the events of that night. It's all a blur to them, almost as though someone was dictating their actions…

But before either of them can say any more on the subject, General Zahl drops dead from a heart attack, and Madame Rouge turns into mist and fades away in front of their very eyes. Nobody knows what's going on, but they realize they have to flee before anyone gets suspicious of them and thinks they killed these people. So they flee in a helicopter and begin heading back to the US.

In case anyone was wondering what did happen to Zahl and Rouge, by the way: it's Mister Nobody. He used these two as pawns to strike back at the Doom Patrol years ago, and he can't have them leaking his secrets. So he used his powers to kill Zahl and abduct Rouge. And now he realizes the Doom Patrol is slowly figuring out the truth, too. They're so close to finding his trail. So now he has to deal with them…

Issue #5: Mister Nobody needs to get rid of the Doom Patrol fast, and he's found a very weak willed pawn, capable of doing exactly what he needs. Specifically, he manages to use his sanity draining powers to short circuit Mento's helmet, and make him think the New Doom Patrol are the ones who actually killed Rita, Larry and The Chief. Now that the insane but powerful delusion has been placed into his brain, Mento turns on them and starts using his strength and his telekinetic helmet to try and force the others out of the helicopter.

A struggle ensues, a violent struggle on the very thin battleground that is the helicopter. And as can be expected from a battle in the skies over the atlantic ocean, it goes very poorly for our heroes. Mento successfully manages to push them off the helicopter, and then he flies back to his estate on the mainland, all alone. In the meantime, Cliff, Valentina, Josh and Arani all fall into the ocean; hitting the water hard enough to knock all of them unconscious (besides cliff, who was powered down by mento's helmet). And then they drift out to sea, all in different directions…

[nightingalesandnorco]

So I was wondering, do generally healthy people who experienced cardiac arrest without prior heart-related issues realize they're experiencing cardiac arrest prior to collapsing? As in, will the person feel something is off with them, then collapse or everything will go blank to for them and they will only realize what happened after they gain consciousness? Also another kinda related question, is there difference in symptont betweet cardiac arrest victim in general vs a cardiac arrest victim due to electrocution?

First, I want to talk about the difference between cardiac arrest and a heart attack, so I know we're on the same page.

Cardiac arrest is the complete cessation of all heart activity. The electrical nodes stop firing, the muscles stop contracting, and there is no longer a force moving blood throughout the body. This may also be called cardiovascular death, and is rarely consciously experienced (more on that later).

A heart attack, or myocardial infarction (MI), is a severe reduction or total blockage of blood flow to the heart muscle (myocardium) from the coronary arteries. This is why people may sometimes refer to an MI as a "coronary." When the myocardium is starved of oxygenated blood, heart muscle cells die and the muscle can no longer contract effectively. Cardiac arrest can occur, but it doesn't always. People are often conscious during an MI.

People usually lose consciousness within 20 seconds of cardiac arrest due to the loss of blood flow to the brain. I can't say what those 20 seconds feel like, as I've fortunately never experienced cardiac arrest, but I would infer that the level of consciousness would rapidly decrease. A person probably isn't going to think "oh, I'm in cardiac arrest" because their brain is going into survival mode.

There are some cases in which people have reported a level of awareness during resuscitation, but these are more along the lines of a near-death/out-of-body experience, with a sense of existing outside of time, their life flashing before their eyes, and interacting with deceased loved ones. In other cases, people don't remember anything about the event, even having no memory of the events that led up to the cardiac arrest.

It's important to remember that a person in cardiac arrest is dead (clinically, at least), no two ways about it. They'll be just as dead if they were electrocuted as they would be if their heart stopped for any other reason. They may have electrical burns, but that would be the only difference.

Happy whumping!

[b3anieperson]

THE LETTER - An Epilouge To Fourth Wing - Part 1 - Part 2 -

Xaden's letter is marked with the same seal I've seen the last three years, a blue wax seal with a rising dragon. I snap open the seal, the wax breaking quietly.

Dear Sloane,

I'm so, so sorry.

My gaze shifts at the letter, sorry for what? As I pay attention to the paper, trying not to read ahead, the corner of one letter is torn, and slight dark spots appear on the paper, like tear stains.

Liam stands with Malek now.

My heart shatters, as I read.

We were attacked by Gryphons, while we were going to save a nearby village. Deigh died, and we didn't have long to say goodbye to Liam before we had to fight.

I am so sorry, I tried, he died in mine and Violet's arms- and so did Soleil.

I'm used to reading through the lines at this point, its how most words to me look. 'Gryphons" always the same, and yet, never Gryphons, Venin.

I barely remember Soleil, her mother was a lieutenant under my mother, and I maybe met her once- but Liam? He was my brother. I'm alone now, no family, no mom, no dad, no Liam. I continue reading, letting the tears spill onto the page as I try not to cry out in pain.

I wish I could be there, I'm leaving in a few days, as soon as we get back to Basgiath, we're currently waiting for Violet to wake up, we're in-

The next word is scribbled out, but I know what he means, they're in Aretia. Letting the one who lived- Violet Sorrengail- heal, while Liam is in a burn pit with his dragon and Soleil.

I don't bother reading the rest, I throw the letter across my bed and reach for Garrick's. This one is sealed with brown wax- I rip it open, and worry my lip as more tears fall.

Sloane,

I wish I could bring you good news.

Please don't be stupid- do something stupid more importantly.

I'll give you what the report says, but I'm sure you've already read Xaden's letter, or Eya's.

Included in his letter is his own personal report, since there were no scribes to write it down.

Name: Garrick Tavis

Rank: Third Year Flame Section Leader, Fourth Wing

Location: Athbyne

Beyond Wards Y/N: Yes.

Commanding Officer: Xaden Riorson

Riders Available: Masen Sandborne, Eya Wrenwrought, Garrick Tavis, Liam Mairi, Soleil Telery, Violet Sorrengail, Ciaran Jun, Bodhi Durran, Imogen Cardulo

Incident Report: June 24, 633 AU

War Games 633 of Basgiath War College, Gaurd and Riot of Wing Leader Xaden Riorson was set down at a lake 20 minutes out from Athbyne.

10 minutes in on break a scream was heard from the west side of the lake, in the woods.

A drift of Six Gryphons attacked and killed Deighabron-- a Red Daggertail belonging to Liam Mairi, saving Violet Sorrengail from impailment.

Soleil and Fuilinstrogh were killed in action by suprise attack.

In action Violet Sorrengail and Xaden Riorson took out two Gryphons as well as rider. Violet was then impailed by poisoned dagger (awaiting condition updates), and incapacitated.

Eya Wrenwrought, Imogen Cardulo and Bodhi Durran fought the remaining Gryphons.

-INCIDENT END-

Injuries sustained:

Bodhi Durran: Broken Arm

Garrick Tavis: Six Inch Cut from Temple to Jaw

Eya Wrenwrought: Twisted Ankle

Violet Sorrengail: Stab Wound (poison)

Imogen Cardulo: Several Fleshed and Treated Knife wounds, (unpoisoned)

Liam Mairi: Deceased

Soleil Telery: Deceased

I don't bother to read the rest of the report. I throw it aside and ravage through Imogen and Eya's letters. All I can focus on is that he died for Violet, saved her, and she still got stabbed and might even die. He died for fucking nothing.

My heart pounds in my chest as I rip at a rouge peice of paper. Tears fall down my cheeks, and make my face sticky with grief.

When Helena walks in, towel wrapped around her head, I'm hugging myself, looking at my sheets instead of the letters. Her face drops as she sits next to me, an arm wrapped lightly around my shoulder as she consoles quietly.

When I think I've cried out every tear that ever existed in my body. Helena asks me quietly what's wrong.

"H-he's gone." I whimper out, my voice breaking.

"Fuck," I hear from another voice, I glance up. Fynn stands there, against my bedpost, and his hair is slicked back with sweat.

"Liam?" Helena asks quietly and Fynn and I nod simultaneously. A gasp escapes her mouth, and she tries not to shudder.

When Emek sticks his head in through door, Fynn shakes his head and waves him out.

"I'm sorry Sloane." Fynn whispers, but I begin to shut everything out. I haven't done this since- since I watched my mother be incinerated- six years ago.

My heart sits in the bottom of my stomach, and I find myself shrugging away from Helena's touch.

When others walk in, they sit adjacent to the bed, or like Fynn; against the bedpost. They ask hushed questions, "What happened?", "Why is Sloane-", "Is she going-". I shut my eyes closed, and just scream.

The room quiets. Nobody speaks. No one moves, then quietly, a hand clasps my shoulder. "Out." He whispers.

I don't bother looking up at Emek, I know it's him. Everyone leaves, and I slowly collapse in on myself, crying again. He shushes quietly, sitting down on the bed, running his fingers through my hair.

His hand passes in front of my vision, and he picks up a letter. He let's out a breath, and sets it down, no doubt reading what Eya had wrote.

Dear Sloane,

We lost Liam two days ago.

We were in a battle at Resson.

I'm not going to sugarcoat this, you know that's not my thing, and I guarantee you've read Xaden's letter.

You know what took him out. We tried, I couldn't get there in time. I will see you at Parapet. I'll be on the other side, you know I will be.

Just remember: You are strong, and you will get through this, you have gotten through worse, and you are amazing.

I love you kid.

-Eya Wrenwrought, Second Wing, Claw Section, Second Squad.

Emek takes my hand, "I know." I shake my head, a few tears falling.

"Y-you don't." I whisper, even though I know his older sister fell at Gauntlet two years ago. "Emma fell at Gauntlet. Liam was eviscerated with his fucking dragon. Emma died before her threshing. Liam did not."

Emek sighs. "Mom died by Venin, if you remember." He says, not trying to guilt-trip me, but informing. Pain flares in the back of my mind, a headache swirling. I fall back on Emek, and he catches me.

"I- I'm sorry." I let out.

"Don't be, we all know the sacrifices that are made."

And I know, from all experiences, it never gets better.

"I'm sorry Sloane."

[shadoedseptmbr]

20 Questions for fic writers

tagged by @wrathoscribbles Thank you!!! <3

hmm, i am where these things go to die but feel free to tag me if you get the urge to run with it!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

115 uh, doesn't seem like that much, really

2. What’s your total A03 word count?

832,340

3. What fandoms do you write for?

well, let's see- Mass Effect, Dragon Age, MCU (caveat, all my Marvel knowledge goes into anything I write. My Hawkeye is an amalgam of the Clint i grew up with, the Clint from Fraction's run of Hawkeye, and what we were given in the MCU with all the...uh, blatantly weird dad vibes thrown out the window. I really like Laura and the kids but i have no idea what to do with Dad!Clint. He is the least Dad-shaped Avenger and i'm including like, Speedball). I haven't written Buffy or the fandom that shall not be named in literally over a decade but i do have a couple stories for each on my AO3.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

In Cupid's Little Bag of Trix

Fandoms: Thor, The Avengers (2012), MCU by way of every Marvel 'verse M Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis background Natasha/Steve Summary Darcy might have a little crush. And possibly a kink. Look, it's been a long couple of years.

Shelter

Fandoms: Dragon Age 2 E OCf!Hawke/Sebastian Summary In whom do we seek shelter? Sebastian and Hawke, figuring things out over the course of a story. mind the tags, this one goes dark and sideways but ends happy. Written before extreme tagging was a thing.

apodyopis (SO *thirsty* lol)

Fandoms: Thor The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types M Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis voyeurism but not like...no one is actually having sex Clint's just like that

Summary

Clint likes to watch his girl work. Kind of a sequel to Cupid's Little Bag of Trix but can be read alone

Steal Away Home

Fandoms: Dragon Age 2 Explicit Graphic Depictions Of Violence F/M, Multi Work in Progress Sebastian Vael/Hawke (F) Aeryn is a menace Aeryn is also an assassin Child endangerment Panic attacks fantasy PTSD childhood neglect everyone here has issues

Summary Post-game adventure including the reclaiming of Starkhaven. Sequel to Shelter. This one needs tags updated, too. Several panic attacks, several people with control issues, lots of childhood neglect and out right abuse and endangerment. We used to just assume everyone knew that was par for the course with DA but honestly.

anchor the night

Fandoms: Mass Effect Teen And Up Audiences Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings F/M Summary After the date at Apollo’s. After the bit that would fade to black, too. Mind the tags.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

oh absolutely, fandom is built on the life blood of comments and i've made some of my dearest friends fangirling over each other's fic. Plus, i've never been particularly overwhelmed by comments so it's never been a particular hardship.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

dolore broke my own heart with that one

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In Cupid's Little Bag of Trix, probably. Clint and Darcy are a barrel of monkeys and they're both so fucking full of zest.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Not that I've ever noticed. I'm fortunate enough to just get readers who want to be chill. i had someone once scold me for being mean to Alec Ryder, lol.

9. Do you write smut?

so much smut- less in Mass Effect, which is mildly hilarious given Aedan's penchants, lol.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not unless you count the various branchings of Marvel. I don't really get the appeal.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

again, not as far as I know

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I have! I had the high honor of writing Shep/Shep with my buddy @nightmarestudio606 with The End is Where We Begin

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

I sail an armada, lol. I multiship and my favorite varies with what day it is. Right now, Codywan is winning, heh. My favorite to *write* though... Shenko is right up there but Clint/Darcy was so much fun.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

none of my WIPs are abandoned. I don't know if I'll ever finish Steal Away Home the way i want to, though.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Dialogue and characterization, I think. Structurally, I have an excellent grasp of nuance when it comes to word choice in a way that lets me say a lot with not much.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

I'm not particularly focused and it can take a long time for me to finish work. And I tend to write without outline and that can lead to a wandering, meander of a fic.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Do it all the time, do my best to make it accurate. I use a smattering of Scots Gaelic for my version of Starkhaven and my source is mostly old books because i like the archaic texture of it. Several of my characters have american south accents and i elide words and use slang and drop g's. '"I am going to the store, mother," she said in her Texas twang' does not read like "Goin' t'the store, ma." and you can't make me believe you don't lose vast amounts of characterization by trying to force it to work. And overly correct dialogue is one of the first reasons i'll drop out of reading fic.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

First written? The Black Stallion (book not movie) First published online? Trixie Belden

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

hard to pick from my favorite children, lol

Cupid's Little Bag of Trix is a (now fairly heavily edited) mess of stream of consciousness that grew a plot from when i was writing quick switch omniscient pov and just expected my readers to figure it out. But i love it. And it remains the biggest boost to my writing ego as ten years after posting, i still get kudos Verge (post Omega DLC) is when i really figured out who Aedan and Kaidan are, together and it manages to wreck me all over again, every time i re-read it.

[midnightactual]

So, this scene in TYBW Episode 24, right?

In CFYOW Volume III, Chapter 22, we get Ichibē saying:

“It is said that the Shiba clan’s ancestor attempted to persuade him, but in that opening, the Tsunayashiro clan’s ancestor sealed the Reio into a crystal. I did not view what had happened then firsthand, but everything that followed is the history of the Soul Society itself.”

Everybody is now saying Ichibē is a liar because of this scene. They're wrong. Ichibē didn't lie. CFYOW is not just shy of a thousand pages of propaganda. Let's cover what else he said a little later:

At that point, the Osho cast his eyes down and returned to his telling. “However, the Tsunayashiro ancestor doubted even the Reio’s nonresistance. He was most frightened of the Reio using his powers to escape the seal and destroy them. And so, without letting the Reio live or die, they tossed him into a contradictory spiral of simultaneous, continuous life and death. They even tore away his right and left arms that ruled ‘stillness’ and ‘advancement.’” The new soldiers held their breath while the members of Squad Zero, not including the Osho, remained silent, each with a unique expression on their face. Then the Osho himself uttered a cruel fact in the same tone he might use to merely discuss the weather. “Well, that likely was not enough. With the Tsunayashiro leading them, several of the ancestors spent a great deal of time carving out the Reio’s heart, whittling away his legs, scraping out all of his internal organs and removing them from his body. They did this in order to carve away his power and to render him simply a convenient figurehead for their benefit.”

This part is very detailed, so presumably Ichibē was actually there for it. He never claimed not to be there for the dismemberment.

Okay, so what do we get in this scene?

This is the Soul King.

This is the seal.

This is the "contradictory spiral."

The Soul King is then being butchered, but still has at least one arm.

Then he loses all his limbs. Notice you only see one arm?

We get an indistinct figure which may be Ichibē.

And finally we get Ichibē for sure.

Now, notice that nothing Ichibē says is at all contradicted by these events. He isn't present when the Soul King is sealed. We don't see him attack the Soul King. He isn't there, just as he claimed. He only shows up perhaps during or after the butchering, which fits with his testimony.

You might thus ask, who is relating these visions then? Well it's Pernida. Which was the Soul King's arm at the time. These are Pernida's visions, not Ichibē's. That's why you only see the one arm during the shot of all the limbs.

In short, everyone telling you that Ichibē was lying in CFYOW because of what they see in the TYBW anime, has no idea what they just watched. I get that everyone thinks the dude is sus, but he was absolutely telling the truth.

And of course he was, because while Kubo is a huge troll, dude was not going to make CFYOW pure propaganda and lies only to have to overturn it all probably 20 years later whenever he actually finally finishes dealing with the Hell Arc. It's not Nineteen Eighty-Four, it's not that complicated. Also, making Ichibē into The Big Bad would both be frankly not that impressive since he already took an L to a base-state Yhwach, and also because having a big singular villain doesn't fit Bleach thematically, because the theme of Bleach is that the system is the real bad guy. The problem isn't some dude you can kill. It's everyone.

Also, while I'm here, note that Ichibē said "several" of the ancestors butchered the Soul King. When you have 5 people, several implies 3, as it does more generally. This means 2 ancestors did not participate. Obviously, Shiba would be one of them. Who was the other? Well, Byakuya had no problem removing Tsukishima's heart, and I doubt Another Clan who apparently live in Hell really have any scruples at all. It's a toss-up between the latter and the Shihōin, but the Shihōin are consistently "the good guys" in so far as there is any such thing, even more so than the Kuchiki—they have a history of subversion, rebellious behavior, and showing up for the good fight.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave: Part 2

Neeve is Gale and Emmy's second daughter, a sorceress who can age, unlike their infant Jenevelle Dekarios, who is forever frozen at four months old. Gale and Emmy also can't age, due to selling their souls so Jenevelle will always have family around and she won't be abandoned.

Neeve, however, will eventually die, leaving her family behind. She and Maddox Ravengard, Karlach and Wyll's son, grew up together as kids, but who knew sparks would begin to fly?

Chapter 20 (Neeve's Point of View)

The forest around us is practically enchanted; I sense magic all around us as we venture through unknown paths. Asher is leading us through the forests, but both him and Maddox make sure I'm on their trail and don't get lost. 

  “I've hunted here for as long as I can remember. Not animals, mind you, unless they're attacking someone. Halsin always taught me the ways of the forest,” Asher mentions, leading the way, his ginger hair extra vibrant from the beams of the sunlight. “I can't believe you've never been out in the woods, Neeve.”

  “Well, I have been using a lot of magic since I was a baby. My parents took me outside of course but I have turned animals into people and…vice versa. Plus, I’m a bookworm. You know that.”

  “Fair point. Not everyone likes the outdoors.”

  “Never said I didn't like it, I'm just a nerd like my dad.” Asher’s laughter is like music to my ears; soft, contagious, and a sound to be desired by many. “Hey now.”

  “True, you are just like your father. Hey, are you both up to going to the top where can see all of Waterdeep? Ya know, after I hunt down my target?” Before we can answer, a sound of human footsteps can be heard bolting in the distance, leaves rustled as if someone is chasing after something; an animal, perhaps? “Oh damn! There he is!” Asher pulls out his bow and bolts after the human figure, noticing the abuser right away. 

 “Asher, hold on!” Maddox shouts, darting after him but then immediately pauses. “Neeve–” I take his hand, holding it within mine as I nod at him, urging him to lead me after Asher. A smile grows on his perfectly structured face, and off we go, chasing after our  fearless nature-obsessed friend. The smell of pine overwhelms my senses beautifully, and with my hand in Maddox’s, I realize how lovely the world can be. 

We eventually catch up to Asher, noticing him standing above a body, his bow on his back. He seems proud, relieved even. 

“Are you sure that's the guy?” Maddox asks as we stand above the body of an older human man, his skin covered in claw marks from an animal, as if it was fighting back against him. “I mean, I believe you.”

“Positive. Caught him beating up on some owlbear cubs. And his own dog, and unfortunately for this guy, it was in the distance from where I was. He just tortured animals and I'm not having it any longer. I…didn't exactly intend to kill him. Just wounded. But…” Asher sighs as he stares at the dead man below us on the ground, obviously questioning himself. “Damn…”

“Asher? Are you alright?” I ask, placing a hand on his shoulder. “If it's any consolation, I think it was the right thing to do. Besides, animal abusers end up killing people a lot of the time. You prevented future harm to the innocent.” Asher turns to look at me with his glistening emerald eyes, flashing a light smile in my direction. 

“Thank you Neeve. That does help quite a bit. I'm glad you both could be here. Anyway… Let’s head up to the lookout, sound good? Pick some berries and have a delicious meal Maddox packed for us. I might make some jam with the berries we pick. I'll lead the way.”  Asher bolts ahead of us swiftly with no hesitation, and there's no doubt he will make it up there before Maddox and I do. “Hurry up!’

“Hey now, neither of us are built for speed! At least I'm not,” Maddox teases. “No need to–”

“What was that, Maddox? I can't hear you, I'm almost to the top!” We both sigh at Asher’s eagerness, but proceed to take our time as we hike up the trail. The leaves are beginning to change to a rich crimson, and the cool air is starting to pick up a little. Ah, how I love the presence of autumn. During this moment I'm admiring the scenery, I begin wonder why I never wanted to play outside as a child. I missed out on so much! Father even took me to the beach but I was always so antsy to go inside. Why was I like that? Oh right…I loved books too much. 

“Regret coming out with us yet?” Maddox asks, his voice playful as we enjoy each other's company through the pine forest. “It's okay if you say yes, I won't be offended.”

“Actually… I'm very glad I came. I'm finally having the chance to admire nature in its true form. You were the only reason I wanted to come originally, but after actually being present in all of this… I want to do it again.” I glance at Maddox for a moment, noticing him smiling and looking down at the dirt. I can see a tint of red flourishing in his rich maroon skin. 

 

 “Well, Ms. Dekarios, I'm glad you came as well. What's not to like about a spontaneous adventure out in the woods? Besides, I can't think of anyone else I’d rather spend time with.” He delicately  takes my hand and stops me in our tracks for a brief moment, staring heavily into my eyes with his. The red glow of his own eyes  is so mesmerizing, and I can't seem to turn away from them. He hesitates, as if a thought is lingering in his mind that he can't unleash verbally, yet I wait patiently. 

“Maddox?” He chuckles, and I immediately notice the cute dimples in his cheeks make a wonderful appearance on his face. “Is everything alright?” As he's about to speak, I hear Asher up at the top, making loud animal sounds; he’s mimicking a crow. 

“Come on! It's beautiful up here!” Maddox and I smile at one another, then race up to the lookout of the mountain. I’m curious what he wanted to tell me; whatever it is, if he doesn't tell me as soon as we get to the top, I will be annoying and bug him until he has the courage to tell me. 

The lookout is more beautiful than I originally imagined. Asher was right, I really can see the entirety of Waterdeep…and then some. The way the sunset is causing the ocean waters to glisten? The way candles are being lit all across the city so couples can enjoy a date night out on the town? Sigh. 

“You both kept me waiting long enough, so I started eating.” Asher laughs at himself for a moment, then gestures us to sit down on the logs next to him. “While I actually did eat, it's my own fault for being way too eager to make it up here. I come here all the time.” 

“I blame Halsin for your undying love of nature,” I tease. “All those years he babysat, even just once a week, while Shadowheart and Astarion went out. That short period of time really can affect a person, huh?”

“Yep! Once a week for two or three hours. My mum enjoys it too, though now she comes out with me to hunt. Ya know…she's a vampire now. Thanks dad. Regardless, it's nice to have my parents come out here with me too.” Maddox sits down on the log with me with a basket of fruit in his arms. We begin to devour it together, enjoying the sweet and savory taste…until I realized I was still hungry and demolished an entire sandwich after that. When I say demolished, I mean I ate it in less than a minute. Asher and Maddox both looked at me with surprised yet impressed expressions. 

“Sorry. You are in the presence of a sorcerer who enjoys food. Get used to it,” I grumble, winking at them both. 

“No, it's good you have an appetite. Just means I get to spoil you,” Maddox implies, then places his hands over his mouth. “I mean…”

“Shut up Maddox, we all know what you meant. Anyway, I'll let you two love birds sit here for awhile. I'm going to feed the deer. Holler at me when you're ready to go.” Asher quietly wanders off into the woods for a little while, leaving Maddox and I here alone by the sunset. I can feel my heart racing with nervousness, my hands shaking as I try to find the right words to say. 

“Anyway, what I wanted to tell you earlier was…” He  takes a deep breath, staring off into the evening sky. 

“You can tell me, Maddox. I mean, I've only known you my entire life for crying out loud. You can tell me anything.” 

“I–” Before he can finish his statement, I cusp my hands on his cheeks and pull him in, our lips locking with intensity and passion. Gods, how I don't want to ever  let him go.  The touch of our lips lingers for a long time, and I almost forget where I am. The moment we release from each other’s lip grasp, he stares at me with eyes of wonder, his lips curling into a perfect smile that just makes me want to kiss him more. “I'm in love with you.” 

 “Maddox Ravengard, you have no fucking idea how long I've been waiting for you to say those words. I'm in love with you too.” 

As much as I wanted to spend so much time with him – the entire night, to be exact – I can't handle the thought of my parents worrying about me. Especially my father. We all head back to my home before it got too dark out, and luckily I made it back in time before the moon introduced itself to the world again. 

I open the door to the living room, inhaling the fresh smell of venison and squash waiting for me on the kitchen table. 

[sanloss]

Alright, but consider this:

Rex also got bit by the werewolf. And Ahsoka has no fucking clue. (It happened during her exile)

Rex: Find Fives

Ahsoka: What?

Rex: *Turns into Wolf*

Ahsoka: ohshitfuck- *starts running away*

And then we have two options: Reasonable, and Pure Crack.

Reasonable:

Things go the same as they did in canon, only Ahsoka doesn't need to trick Rex into the medical chamber to remove his chip- she only needs to kick his ass into it. They try the "She's not a jedi anymore" thing, it doesn't work, etc etc, Ahsoka gets to dig a mass grave and thousands of SW fans everywhere get to cry their hearts out.

Crack:

The troopers on the bridge start shooting Ahsoka, and Rex's big brother/papa wolf instincts go mental, and he bites one of them.

Cue Wolf!Jesse staring at Wolf!Rex like:

*In Wolf*

Jesse: What the kriff?

Rex: All of the 501st has chips in their heads.

Jesse: !?!

Rex: The chips make us follow orders. Our orders are to kill Ahsoka.

Jesse: !!!

Rex: But Wolves don't follow orders.

Jesse: ... I see...

(And the reason why they aren't getting shot at is because Werewolf Fur is very resistant to blaster bolts + the Chipped Clones not really knowing what to do about them? Cause like, they're wolves- and wolves can't really be expected to follow orders- so are they traitors?)

The two of them go on a biting spree, turning the entire ship into werewolves. Ahsoka and Maul are very confused.

Maul: Did you know they could do that!?!

Ahsoka: I'm as surprised as you are-

*a single wolf takes down 12 clones without a scratch*

Maul: Would you like a truce?

Ahsoka: Truce.

Once the entire ship has been sufficiently fluffy-fied, the two no-longer-affiliated force users approach. Through various charades, mimicry, and one shiny- now called Paws- discovering that werewolf paws are dexterous enough to write with on whiteboard, a plan to de-chip Ahsoka's portion of the 501st is formed:

One of the clones (in wolf form) gets in the tube, and two wolves lay down on him. After they transform back into humans, Maul holds one arm still enough to let Ahsoka (and eventually, a medic) inject them with a sedative while they get their chip removed.

Since Ahsoka didn't need to free Maul as a distraction, the Hyperdrive is fine.

They get to Coruscant just in time to hear Palps go "I'M THE EMPEROR NOW!"

Maul goes :< but they rush to the Temple anyways- he can't resist the puppy dog eyes (not all the clones got de-chipped yet, but they need to go save the younglings now.

(Also, because I'm not a heartless monster, Liberty dies during the assault on the temple, not after.)

The rest of the 501st gets turned by Ahsoka's party, while Maul and Ahsoka attack Anakin. Rex goes to get Padme- and turn most of the Corrie Guard- to get her to stop Ani from killing everyone.

Rex: Girl, come get your husband, he's committing war crimes.

Padme: WTF?

Rex: He's about to kill children

Padme: D:

So they go to the temple. Ani gets slapped upside the head (before or after killing younglings, depends on how evil you want to be) and gets dragged to the healers by 20 different werewolves with familiar markings (The Werewolf!Clones have markings like their helmets).

The Younglings all latch onto the Fluffy Saviors, and a whole bunch of them now think Maul is the coolest guy ever. The Crechemasters sigh and get the Fluffiest clones to guard Maul.

Maul has no idea what to do with the attention.

Bail and the Boys + Fluffy Cody show up, and get very confused.

Bail: Where did all these dogs come from?

Ahsoka: ...Therapy dogs?

Yoda: *looking at the newfound Light coming from Maul* Legit, this seems.

They go kill Palpatine- by "They", I also mean the hundreds of Werewolf!Clones. Maul gets the killing blow, along with Wolf!Fox. This is televised, and All The Younglings now think that Maul is the Coolest Thing Ever.

Palpatine's empire is dead before it can really even begin. The Purge is incomplete- While a lot of Jedi did die, the Younglings, Crechemasters, and a lot of the Corps survived.

Anakin gets kicked out of the order, but seeing as he had been manipulated by Palpatine since he was nine, he was given quite a lot of leniencies. That, and he never actually killed any younglings.

He gets to be Padme's House Husband and take care of his children.

Ahsoka, Maul, and Rex all get the Republic version of a Purple Heart. Maul gets to be the Coolest Guy Ever with the Younglings.

Cody gets bitten by a werewolf sometime during the war, and can transform at will with no full moon requirement, effectively becoming himself as a very large dog

he and Obi-Wan conspire to keep this fact hidden, as they're very aware of the danger of the Kaminoans finding out and disappearing him into their labs

when Order 66 goes out, Cody has a split second to fight it

and, well. wolves aren't exactly good soldiers, and you can only sort of expect them to follow orders.

transformed, Cody runs straight to the General, but when he gets there, he realizes that he can't actually warn him of the danger, because he can't transform back to explain without the Order taking hold

but he can whine sadly and pull on Obi-Wan's ridiculous sleeves with his teeth until Obi-Wan gets the hint and lets him lead him away to safety in a stolen ship

they make the rendezvous with Bail and Yoda

(Bail: what's with the dog Obi-Wan?

Obi-Wan, sweating: it's, um, a service dog

Yoda: ...fake, that sounds, but okay)

and then Cody and Obi-Wan make the trip to the Temple to disable the beacon, with Cody fighting off his brothers as nonlethally as he can while Obi-Wan does his best to follow his lead

after they find the evidence of Anakin's betrayal and receive Yoda's assignment, Obi-Wan sobs into Cody's fur the whole flight to Padme's apartment, and then silently the whole flight out to Mustafar hidden aboard her ship

while Obi-Wan is busy fighting with Vader, Cody manages to drag Padme's unconscious body back aboard her ship, then sneaks back closer to the fighting just in time to see the end of the duel

(if he waits to act until Obi-Wan is just far enough to not notice when Anakin's screams cut out, well, that's his own business)

he follows Obi-Wan back to the ship and drapes himself across the man's lap the whole way to Polis Massa

after Padme's death and her children's birth, Cody demands that they keep at least one of the babies

(look at his puppy dog eyes. how can you so cruelly deprive him of tubies like this.)

so Luke grows up with his Uncle Ben and their very strange, very large dog, Cody

when they end up on the Death Star nearly two decades later, Cody materializes from wherever he'd been lurking on the station just in time to drag Obi-Wan to safety during his duel with the Grand Inquisitor

as soon as their bedraggled group arrives on Yavin, Rex shows up to eagerly greet his former General; Cody, while thrilled to see his brother alive, starts viciously growling at him as he approaches: he might not understand in detail how the chips work, but he knows what he experienced that day, and he's seen what his brothers have done since then

Obi-Wan explains the situation to the man from the Cody-approved distance of half the hangar away, how Cody transformed one day and has refused to turn back since, and Rex immediately expresses his confusion, asking if they haven't removed Cody's chip

(Cody: I assure you, I did NOT let anyone microchip me!)

following Rex's explanation, Cody rushes them all to the medbay to undergo surgery, leaving Obi-Wan to explain to Luke how their 'dog' is actually his other Uncle

while Obi-Wan and Cody are distracted desperately making out with each other in the medbay, Luke sneaks off to destroy the Death Star, setting them up to all live happily ever after