#tree surgeon near me

[treesurgeonsmiddlesbrough]

Tree Surgeons Middlesbrough

Tree Surgeons Middlesbrough is a trusted provider of professional tree care services, dedicated to maintaining the health and safety of trees across the Middlesbrough and Teesside area. We offer expert tree removals, pruning, and stump grinding, ensuring your outdoor spaces are safe and beautiful. Our skilled team combines extensive experience with top-tier equipment to deliver efficient and environmentally responsible solutions for both residential and commercial clients.

Website: https://treesurgeonsmiddlesbrough.co.uk/

Address: 9 Cragdale Rd, Middlesbrough, TS3 7QU

Phone Number: 01917432957

Contact Mail: info@treesurgeonsmiddlesbrough.com

Business Hours: Mon - Sun : 08:00 am - 06:00 pm

[neighbourstree]

The Essential Guide to Tree Services in St. Albert

As a resident of St. Albert, you know the beauty that trees bring to our community. From providing shade on hot summer days to enhancing the aesthetics of our neighborhoods, trees are invaluable. However, there are times when tree removal in St. Albert becomes necessary, or you need the expertise of an arborist in St. Albert for tree trimming. This guide will walk you through these services and help you find the right tree surgeon near me.

Understanding the Need for Tree Removal in St. Albert

Tree removal in St. Albert is a significant decision that should be made with careful consideration. There are various reasons why you might need to remove a tree:

Safety Concerns: Trees that are diseased, damaged, or leaning precariously can pose a risk to your property and safety. In such cases, tree removal St Albert becomes essential to prevent accidents.

Disease or Infestation: Trees affected by diseases or infestations may need to be removed to prevent the spread of the problem to other trees in the vicinity.

Obstruction: Trees that obstruct construction projects, utility lines, or growth of other plants may need to be removed or trimmed.

Aesthetic Reasons: Sometimes, tree removal in St. Albert is desired for landscaping purposes to enhance the visual appeal of a property.

Choosing the Right Arborist in St. Albert

When it comes to tree removal or tree trimming in St. Albert, hiring a professional arborist in St. Albert is crucial. Here are key factors to consider:

Certification and Credentials: Ensure that the arborist St Albert you choose is certified and has the necessary credentials to perform tree services safely and effectively.

Experience: Look for arborists with years of experience in tree trimming and tree removal in St. Albert. Experienced professionals are better equipped to handle complex tree situations.

Insurance: A reputable arborist will have liability insurance to cover any damages that may occur during tree removal or tree trimming.

References: Ask for references from past clients to gauge the arborist's reputation and quality of work.

Importance of Tree Trimming St. Albert

Tree trimming in St. Albert is not just about aesthetics; it is vital for the health and safety of your trees. Here's why tree trimming matters:

Promotes Growth: Regular tree trimming encourages healthy growth by removing dead or diseased branches that can inhibit a tree's development.

Enhances Safety: Trimming eliminates weak branches that could fall and cause property damage or injury during storms.

Improves Appearance: Well-maintained trees add beauty and value to your property, making tree trimming St Albert a worthwhile investment.

Prevents Disease: Trimming removes infected branches, reducing the risk of diseases spreading throughout the tree.

Finding a Reliable Tree Surgeon Near Me

When searching for a tree surgeon near me in St. Albert, consider the following tips:

Local Reputation: Opt for a tree surgeon with a strong reputation in the local community for quality work and professionalism.

Transparent Pricing: Choose a tree surgeon who provides transparent pricing and a detailed breakdown of services included.

Equipment and Safety Practices: Ensure the tree surgeon uses modern equipment and follows safety protocols to minimize risks during tree removal or tree trimming.

Customer Reviews: Check online reviews and testimonials from previous clients to gauge the tree surgeon's reliability and customer satisfaction levels.

In conclusion, tree services such as tree removal in St. Albert, arborist services, tree trimming, and finding a tree surgeon near me play crucial roles in maintaining a healthy and beautiful urban environment. By understanding the importance of these services and choosing reputable professionals, you can ensure the well-being of your trees and property.

[abovaalltreecare]

Beyond Removal: The Art of Tree Preservation by Arborists

Many people think of arborists as tree removal experts when it comes to trees. While they do handle tree removals, arborists also possess a wealth of knowledge and skills in tree preservation. Their expertise goes far beyond hedge pruning and cutting and removing trees.

In this blog, we'll explore the often-overlooked art of tree preservation by arborists and discuss six key pointers to help you understand the importance of their role.

Tree pruning beyond aesthetics

A professional arborist isn't simply a tree surgeon near you who trims trees for appearance. Pruning is a vital part of tree preservation. Arborists prune trees to remove dead or diseased branches, improve their structure, and ensure their health.

This process is not just about aesthetics; it's about enhancing the tree's vitality and extending its lifespan. Regular pruning by a skilled arborist can help your trees thrive. When seeking a tree pruning service, choose an arborist experienced in pruning and preservation.

Disease and pest management

Arborists play a critical role in identifying and managing tree diseases and pests. Beyond hedge cutting, they are skilled in diagnosing and treating issues that can threaten your trees. Consulting a tree professional is crucial if you notice signs of disease or infestation.

They can recommend a tailored treatment plan to save trees from decline or death. Hire a reputable arborist with expertise in preserving tree health for effective disease and pest management.

Soil analysis and nutrient management

Healthy soil is the foundation for robust trees. Arborists often conduct soil analysis to assess its composition and nutrient levels. Based on the results, they implement nutrient management plans, including fertilization, to ensure your trees receive the essential elements for growth. Proper soil care is an integral part of tree preservation that can significantly impact your trees' long-term health. When considering tree service providers, inquire about soil analysis and nutrient management options your arborist offers.

Structural support for mature trees

Mature trees, especially those in urban areas, may require structural support to withstand the elements. Arborists employ techniques such as cabling and bracing to support weak or overextended branches. This prevents storm damage, limb breakage, and potential accidents.

Preserving mature trees is not just about aesthetics; it also maintains property value and ecological benefits. If you have mature trees needing structural support, consult a qualified tree surgeon near you who is experienced in tree preservation.

Tree risk assessment

Trees have lifespans, and they can become hazardous if not maintained over time. Arborists excel at tree risk assessment, evaluating a tree's structural integrity and potential risks to people and property. By identifying potential issues early on, arborists can recommend mitigation measures like crown reduction or, in extreme cases, removal. This ensures safety while preserving the tree's value. Regular tree risk assessments by a local tree surgeon can prevent accidents and property damage.

Education and advocacy

Arborists are hedge cutting service providers, educators, and advocates for trees and their importance. They share valuable information on proper tree care practices with homeowners and communities. Arborists also engage in advocacy efforts to promote tree conservation and urban forestry.

Their work raises awareness about trees' value and preservation, contributing to a greener and healthier environment. When seeking the services of a tree service or tree surgeon, consider choosing an arborist who is passionate about tree preservation and actively involved in community initiatives.

Conclusion

Arborists are more than just tree removers; they are dedicated stewards of our urban forests. Their expertise extends to tree preservation through pruning, disease management, soil care, structural support, risk assessment, and education.

Prioritize tree health through experts like Above All Tree Care, who enhance your property's beauty and contribute to a sustainable and green environment for future generations. So, the next time you search for a tree surgeon near you, remember the multifaceted role of Above All Tree Careprofessionals in preserving our natural treasures.

[connorscullion]

Tree Surgeon

Scullion Tree Care Ltd provides professional tree care and removal services with over 10 years of experience and a fully insured team of tree surgeons on board. Whether the tree is interfering with your building or inviting birds and pests to your property, we can solve your problem by either removing the tree or pruning it regularly to make sure it doesn't grow out of shape. Call today.

visit:-https://sculliontreecare.co.uk

[yellowdtreeservices]

Yellow D. Tree Services | Arborist and Tree Surgeon | Tree Service in Victoria BC

Yellow D. Tree Services, a premier Arborist and Tree Surgeon in Victoria BC, offers expert care for your green spaces. Our team is dedicated to the health and aesthetics of your trees, providing everything from pruning to disease management. We enhance your property's natural beauty and safety through proper attention to every detail. Moreover, our top-notch Tree Service in Victoria BC, is designed to help you maintain a vibrant and healthy landscape. We employ the latest techniques and equipment to ensure your trees are cared for with the utmost professionalism. For all your arboreal needs, look no further than Yellow D. Tree Services. Get in touch now for a consultation!

[integritytreespecialist1]

Integrity Tree Specialist Tree Services | Tree Service | Arborist and Tree Surgeon in Virginia Beach VA

Integrity Tree Specialist Tree Services is the best pick to keep your trees well-maintained. Our top-notch Tree Service in Virginia Beach VA, entails everything, from routine maintenance to removals. Employing the latest techniques and equipment, we ensure the health and safety of your trees, enhancing the beauty and value of your property. Moreover, as a certified Arborist and Tree Surgeon in Virginia Beach VA, we also offer expert advice and solutions for the care and management of your trees. Our comprehensive understanding of tree health, combined with advanced surgical techniques, allows us to diagnose and treat a variety of tree-related issues effectively. Trust us to preserve the vitality of your trees!

[integritytreespecialist]

Integrity Tree Specialist, Chesapeake Branch | Arborist and Tree Surgeon | Tree Service in Chesapeake VA

Integrity Tree Specialist, Chesapeake Branch, a renowned Arborist and Tree Surgeon in Chesapeake VA, is dedicated to maintaining the health and beauty of your trees. With a deep understanding of tree physiology and local ecosystems, our specialists provide comprehensive care, including diagnosis, treatment, and preventive maintenance. Whether dealing with disease management or structural assessments, our goal is to ensure the longevity of your trees. For top-tier Tree Service in Chesapeake VA, look no further than us. From pruning and trimming to complete tree removal, we have you covered. Our professionals employ the latest equipment to safely and efficiently manage any tree-related task. Choose us for reliable tree care solutions.

[kellysmith15]

Palm Trees: Understanding the Durability of Their Fronds

Palm Trees: Understanding the Durability of Their Fronds

Palm trees are a common sight in tropical and subtropical regions, but did you know that the fronds, or leaves, of a palm tree, are also quite durable? In fact, the fronds of many palm species are known for their strength and resilience.

Palm Frond Structure

Palm fronds are composed of a central stalk, or rachis, from which individual leaflets, or pinnae, extend. The rachis and pinnae are both made of tough fibers, giving the frond a high level of rigidity and strength. The fronds are also equipped with a waxy coating on the surface of the leaf, which makes them more resistant to damage caused by UV radiation and other environmental factors.

Trimming Palm Fronds with a Hand Saw

While palm fronds are quite durable, they can still become damaged or overgrown and may need to be trimmed. One way to trim palm fronds is by using a hand saw. However, this method may not be practical for all situations.

The density of the fronds can vary greatly depending on the species of the tree. Some species have very dense fronds that are difficult to cut through, even with a sharp hand saw. Others may have less dense fronds that can be easily trimmed.

It is also important to consider the size of the fronds, as larger fronds may be too difficult to cut through with a hand saw. In these cases, a larger saw, such as a chainsaw or a pole saw, may be necessary.

Safety Precautions

When trimming palm fronds with a hand saw, it is important to take safety precautions. Always wear protective gear such as gloves and safety goggles. Also, be aware of your surroundings and make sure you have a clear space to work in, to avoid any accidents. If you are not comfortable with using a hand saw or any other tool, it is best to consult with a professional.

In conclusion, the fronds of palm trees are quite durable, but the density and size of the fronds can vary greatly depending on the species. Trimming palm fronds with a hand saw may be practical in some situations, but it is important to consider the density and size of the fronds, as well as safety precautions, before attempting to trim them yourself. If in doubt, it is best to consult with a professional.

Professional Tree Services

TruCo Services can help you with ALL TYPES of tree issues. Call us now and let us know how we can help you with your landscaping, snow removal, and more!

TruCo Services

4640 Commerce Drive

Murray, UT 84107

(801) 466-8044

info@trucoservices.com

https://www.trucoservices.com/blog

Disclaimer: This is not professional advice and is simply an answer to a question; if professional advice is sought, contact a licensed practitioner or professional in the appropriate administration.

[kusakiguzen]

Yandere Knight Akaashi Kenji x Isekai!MaidReader

(Credits to the owner i just yoinked it from pintrest)

English is not my first language

A/N: Hiiii I'm finally done. Its vauge but i promise it'll make sense in part 2. Hope you enjoy reading as much as i loved writing it. One more thing. DO YOU WANT AN OPEN OR CLOSED ENDING??

THIS IS MY STORY DO NOT REPOST (REBLOG IS FINE). DO NOT COPY OR STEAL. CREDIT TO THE ARTIST FOR THE IMAGE.

(orange=You, blue= Akaashi, purple=Head maid, green= extra, pink=Saintess)

Y/N L/N, was a 25 year old collage student who was persuing her dream of getting a medical degree and become a successful doctor/surgeon. With great knowledge in Medicines and great interest in Herbology, studied really hard to be at her top of her class.

But she had great love for anime and otome games, her personal favorite anime was 'Haikyuu' a sports anime. She was obsessed with it, and when she found out that there was going to be an Otome game releasing featuring the main cast of the Haikyuu, She was sold.

The first otome game, that she played about Haikyuu was feturing the story line with MC being an extra manager of karasuno 'VLB CLUB', and then many other otome games started to gain popularity.

One day she decided to scoure the Internet to find a unique Haikyuu tome game that didn't make the MC a manager of any team.

She found it. It was called " Lovers Call For Help". It featured the ain haikyuu cast in a historical era. It also had side stories and everything.

She decided to read the side stories first. After reading them. she started the game. The MC was an isekai/reincarnated Saintess, who was there to heal and get rid of the demonic monsters.

Typical cliche. she completed it in one sitting but also became sleep deprived. After the game ended it asked for her name again, Y/N wrote down hwer OC name again, but it said incorrect. And then asked her for her REAL NAME.

This caused Y/N to be confused but she remembered about the policy terms so she typed her real name 'Y/N L/N'. Then the screen showed 'THE END' and said "THANK YOU FOR PLAYING Y/N L/N". which she found creepy but also she was too sleepy to think straight.

She soon fell asleep with her phone, when the screen suddenly turned ON and on the screen displayed

'YOU ARE IT'

Y/N woke up to he name being called.

Miss Y/N are you listening? Said the head maid

HUh?.... What? said Y/N in confusion displayed on her face

You must sign th--- Are you feeling okay Miss Y/N? You suddenly look pale... The head maid asked with concern.

I-- i where- ? At this point there were millions of thoughts going through her head. Where was she? How did this old women know her name? Why does she look so mch like the character from the game she played? Is she dead? is this women someone who will measure her good and bad deeds? All these thoughts were interupted by the same voice again laced with concern.

It is alright if you would like to continue this tomorrow..

Yes that would be much appreciated.. Thank you Miss uhm

Beatrice, Beatrice Graves

Ah yes Thank You Miss Graves. I will be contacting you soon.

With that Y/N gave her a bow and ran out the door holding her mouth to prevent herself from puking.

On her sprint towards the bathroom she colided with what felt like a wall. She looked up to see him Akaashi Kenji

No no no no no NO NO NO. Why why why why why WHY WHY WHY!! WHY IS HE HERE????

Excuse me I must hurry. She ran towards the bathroom without looking back leaving a confused Akashi behind.

Y/N ran for her life to get somewhere she could breathe without hyperventilating.

Unable to find a bathroom, she finally found a lake and finally vomitted near a tree, after she was done, she covered it with some dirt because it was unhygenic to leave it that way.

She went to clean her mouth in the Lake but noticed her appearance. She looked prettier, her dark circles were gone, her skin was glowing and overall She looked healthy. Apart from that she also noticed she looked slightly animated.

'is this really me ' She thought while touching her face . suddenly she got a headache a really painful one & memories started pouring in, memories that were not her's.They were the memories of the owner of the body.

Y/N L/N daughter of a fallen Noble, The downfall was caused by her father's and brother-in-law's gambling addiction which her mother and sister refused to do anything about. when it came time to pay the piling debts, they couldn't and begged Y/N for help.

Being a pushover She agreed and decided to get a job as a maid.she worked for a Count namely Count Octavious , but after a lot of pestering from her family about her "Not giving them enough money" She decided to work at the palace. She passed all the tests to work in the palace All she had to do was write & sign a contract. which is when she (Y/N) Got reincarnated.

WOW ! What Shitty family i'll have to support ' She though while clutching her head while groaning in pain and using another tree as support.

She finally noticed the small bag near her which looked suspiciously similar to her own bag in her Real world. She reached out with shaky hands and realised, it was her bag, It had her Journals, Tablet and her basic necessities, Basically everything she carries to her collage.

Damn there is no way! She erupted in a phsycotic laughter realising this was not dream. You might ask what made her come to this conclusion? Its because there was a card.... A card that said "Welcome To Lover's Call For Help, We the authors Hope you will enjoy this, Please play as you please. Thank you"

After she read it it disappeared into some glowing particles.....

With that she decided to survive, not submissively like the manhwa and shit she read.. by faking herself .... No she'll live and make sure to enjoy every second of it.

Akaashi Kenji, The Captain of the Royal Guard, The Emperor's Right Hand Man and most of all The Heir Of the Akaashi Dukedom. He was a clam and collected man with a pinch of humor and sassiness, complete opposite of the Emperor Bokuto Koutaro, who was a Hyper and simple minded man. Bokuto was always kept in check by Akaashi due to his habit of making impulse decision.

Today he was tasked (more like forced) to meet the qualified applicants of people who are going to be maids in the palace. Now you might be wondering 'why there are tests to become a maid?' There aren't if you want to become a normal maid but for a higher position, you need higher qualifications. Especially in the Royal Palace.

Just as he was on his way to the Head Maid's Office, He bumped into a girl who looked extremly pale. She looked at him and looked absolutely terrified as if he wasn't supposed to be there. She Excused herself leaving Akaashi confused. He shrugged and continued his way to the Office.

He reached the office and knocked and heard a soft "Come in'

Ahh Sir Akaashi, Right on time. Said Beatrice

Madame Graves,... is the list ready? Asked Akaashi

Yes! We have some promising people this year, one of them in particular, but she felt sick so she will sign the contract tomorrow. told Beatrice.

I see.. That is great news.

Yes it is indeed.

I will see you later then Madame. I hope you have a pleasant evening. He said with a small smile

I hope for your day to be magnificent as well Sir Akaashi. She said with a bow

Y/N did go back to sign the contract but she did add her own conditions since it was allowed. Her conditions were

The abilty to refuse: If a noble takes interest in the employee but the employee is uncomfortable with the advances, she is allowed to refuse such advances without conseqences.

Protection guaranteed: The employee will not take any orders that may endanger the employee's life without conseqences.

Guaranteed vacation days: Employee must be given atleast 4-6 days of paid vacation. it can be saved and used in bulks.

Direct handing over the payment: The employee will be given the payment directly no matter. If Anyone claim to collect it for the employee, it is false unless the employee themself confirm with the Employer (In this case Madame Beatrice Graves).

If any of the above condition are to be broken the contract will be terminated immediatly with fine of 25 gold.

Are these terms satisfying for you Madame? said Y/N

Yes, You are quite clever. No one has ever used the blank space given for the employee's conditions. Said the Beatrice amused.

Well it is for our use isn't it Madame?. Said Y/N with a chuckle.

It is. You will be starting tomorrow then Ms L/N.

Please call me Y/n Madame, and yes.

I hope you have a pleasant afternoon. And you may get comfortable in the dormatories.

I hope your afternoon is pleasant as well. And I will. Y/N said excusing herself with a bow.

Two Years later. ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

It had been two years since Y/N got reincarnated and started working as a maid. A lot of things happened, the main thing was Y/N cutting of her family. Her family did take her to court on the 'oral Contract' of her promising to pay off all their debts. That's where she decided to fight back, which was surprising for her family. She used their own words against them by telling the judge "I only promised to pay the debts and i have paid them enough money to pay it off, your honor". she showed the proof as well. Her family tried to justify that they have to eat and drink as well but it was shut down. She also showed the law that stated that she was not obligated to support their reckless activity. No matter what her family tried, they were unable to win.

The second was that, She Got Promoted!!! Why u might ask? due to her knowledge from her original world, of being a doctor and kind of an herbologist. Which meant more money!! She Already planned to leave once she had enough money to retire from being a maid and opening a small clinic in the village near her house. With the promotion, she brought a small cottage in a desolated area on the mountains near the woods. It did cost her a year worth of her salary but... its worth it.

The Game would begin in about a month, so all she had to do was live.... SURVIVE the war of love... Orrrr she could just quit today. I mean she has enough money to live modestly sooo. Naahhhhh, who lives modestly when they can live lavishly. So she decided to stay. Just till the story starts.

A secrete between you and me... She liked Akaashi. Not like, she Loved him. In the game Akaashi was the epitome of a green flag and the softest yandere. She really hoped that Akaashi got his ending, A Happy Ending and not the cliche ending of " PrOtEcTiNg ThE FeMaLe LeAd FrOm ThE ShAdOw". She pitied the poor man, but wasn't interested in risking her life for some character, even if she loved him . She started to stalk him during her free time, not full on yandere creepy stalker, but the little stalking everyone does to their crush. Since she knew how to draw, Y/N had a journal dedicated to him, which was quite expensive, since paper and ink are expensive in this time/game. also one of the reason she doesn't have enough money to leave but that's not important . In her defense she needs a souvenir. But she won't pursue him because she wants to escape Tacitly. But she didn't Notice her little hobby had already caught someone's attention.

Akaashi Kenji was used to Girls even women, following him around and giggling at his sight but it never fazed him. He Ignored them, Why? simply because he was not interested and he was too busy to give them time. But he was never rude to them, asking them to leave with a pleasant smile, he has a reputation to maintain.

He never noticed anyone special, well... not until he saw Y/N. She was average looking, does her job well, is educated which is verry uncommon. That never interested him, She was very average compared to the women whom he has seen in the Balls, hell even the maids working with her. But something........ something drew him to her. One day, during his regular petrol, he saw Y/N. But after she spoted him, She gave him a bow and left. A paper fell from her book, so he followed her to give it back. But he got curious and opened the page..... it was HIM.. Full of his drawing, very nicely drawn too.

This spiked his curiousity. He left the page under her rooms door and left. He asked the shadow knights to find out everything about her. He was surprised to find out that she worked there for years. Slowly this simple curiosity turned into a spiral of obsession.

A month passed and the Saintess arrived. Just as the prophecy stated, She fell from the sky. But something was off from Akaashi's point of view. She was already acting as if she was a higher status than any and everyone. Or is it just in his head,... Nevermind then, he was already busy with his duties. Coincidently he had to visit Beatrice (Head maid) for something, Also to catch a glimpse of Y/N but that's irrelevent.

Sir Akaashi, What brings you here?

The list Lady Graves... You forgot to send the list new recruits to my office...

Ahh my apologise, One of our maid is quiting hence it has been hectic.

Someone is quiting? That is a surprise.

Yes... that to a capable maid.

May i inquire who?

Y/N, Y/N L/N, She says she wants to open a small shop and live her life.

Y/N's Leaving....?

yes, and here you go

Thank y--

As Akaashi was about to thank Beatrice, he was interupted by a soft knock.

Who is it?

Its me Head Maid, Y/N. May i come in?

Her sweet voice. The voice that was melody to his ears. He signaled the head maid to invite her in.

May I help you Y/N?

Yes- oh Sir Akaashi... Good afternoon.

Good afternoon to you as well Y/N

Anyways, I'd like the conformation of my resignation?

Yes, it was approved, you may leave after 2 weeks.

I see Thank you. With a quick curtsy to both the head maid and Akaashi she left.

"HOW COULD YOU!! No HOW DARE YOU LEAVE? WHY ARE YOU LEAVING.....Please stay. Should I trap her? Break her legs? NO No no. I shouldn't think like this." these were the thoughts going through Akaashi's head while he made his way back to his office.

"That's right I could just ask her? Can't I? I do realise we aren't close but i assume it isn't a secrete. I'll ask her the coming week" He thought satisfied with a low hmm.

It hadn't even been 3 days after Akaashi found out that his love Y/N was leaving. He made his way to the maid's quarters, He noticed a commotion.

I saw her steal Your Holiness Please beleive me!! A maid was kneeling while pointing at Y/N who stood tall.

Now, Why would I need jewelry when I have enough money to afford about 20 of them? Y/N stated with an innocent look on her face (which got Akaashi Hard immediately)

Because you are jealous of Her Holiness, You said it your self!!.

'Bruh what a Headache' My dear I've already quit so what good will this cheapass Jewelry do for me? Bitch.

See Your Holiness, Even her mouth is foul.

Halt, Please Y/N where were you 3 days ago when the neckless went missing?

I was---

She was with me Your Holiness. Akaashi intervened speaking from the crowed

She was?

Yes I had bumped into her at the Head Maid's office. She was there to get her resignation.

I see this proves Miss Y/N Innocent

Thank you Your Holiness.

No problem, If i were you I'd be careful with my tongue.

Thank you for the advice, Y/N said with a smile

After that encounter, Akaashi went to Y/N to check up on her. If she was alright. then knowing she was fine, he asked her to walk with him. They shared pleasantries and, Akaashi finally asked why she was quiting. Her replay was the same but she also added " others were jealous and trying to sabotage me. Plus i hate getting involved in drama like the one today. I an see it happening again".

If I got rid of it will she stay? I should get rid of that damn maid. Akaashi thought. With that they said their good byes and parted ways

The Next day, body of the maid who had was found. She had committed suicide, it also had a note of confession saying how she plotted to frame Y/N because of how much everyone loved her.

A few days passed

And Akaashi was summoned to be a witness for what the Saintess was saying

The saintess claimed it was Y/N's fault she must be punished accordingly. Akaashi intervened asking what was Y/N's fault? The fact that she defended herself? her dignity? her life ahead? WHAT WAS THAT SHE DID WRONG??

The Saintess's claim was shut down after what Akaashi said, Since He was the most trusted.

Then came the day of Y/N's departure. No one except Akaashi was their to bid her farewell. But what he did surprised her. He leaned down to kiss her on the lips not a peck, But full make out session. Y/N started to feel dizzy and then suddenly lost conciousness.

She woke up in a lavish room. Decorated with golds and gems but no silver. She was told by Akaahi that she suddenly got fever between the kiss and he apologised for what he did. Y/N dismissed it and asked if she could leave. He told her that her fever was down but not gone, So she should stay till she recovers.

They started dating after Akaashi's heartfelt confession. And after that he just couldn't keep it in his pants.

But she only got progressively worse, her fever would come back anytime. She got weaker and paler ( paler as in weak as fuck not the skin color). But there came a point her health stopped deteriorating. This caused her to get suspicious. Why? Because Akaashi had proposed to her claiming to love her and she accepted.

Was Akaashi trying to kill her because she stood against the Saintess?

Soon she was able to fool one of the maids serving her to get her a silver jewelry and to her fear....... She was correct. The Silver turned black. How could she be So STUPID. He protected the FL from the shadows meaning killing without hesitation or remorse.

So she escaped... in the dead of night that very day. It was hard but she was able to reach the shore and catch the last ship and she finally escaped death..... or she thought.

On the other side, Akaashi was losing his mind... HOW DARE YOU!! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!! HOW COULD YOU. HE TREATED YOU SOO WELL AND THIS IS WHAT HE GETS???!!

He finally saw the letter you left.

Dear Kenji, I do love you very much, but i know you love Aurelia (the saintess). Hence the reason for you poisoning me... I would have loved to spend my life with you but I'm afraid i won't be able to. I'll leave forever so that you won't have to worry about me hurting Aurelia. I hope You Will Be Happy

Your Lover Truly

Y/N L/N

What? What are you talking about? loving that bitch? who he was planning to kill? Did someone decive you? That's right someone must have lied to you..... You Still love him! You said it yourself....

Don't worry he'll find you an clear this misunderstanding.

I'm coming my dear....

A/N: FUCKING FINALLY.!!! I'm done!! I'll make a part two with the dark stuff and smut cuz i wanted to build a base for this story. Probably more than part 2.. Soo STAY TUNED

Hope You Enjoy!!

Masterlist

STAY SAFE, HEALTHY AND HYDRATED ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Therapy Files 4: A Marionette to An Animal (Carmy)

Screenshot Credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy can only seem to talk about his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) in therapy. (790 Words)

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, fem reader/lass girlfriend who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, lipstick prints, I guess the therapist could also be the reader?

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in the Therapy Files Series and will be tagged with #cb therapy files.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Day 2

I couldn’t even talk about the panic attack.

Like I tried to tell fucking Therapist about it (Darling said I probably shouldn’t write down providers’ names in case this thing gets lost somewhere; creepers about and all, so from now on, my therapist is just Therapist). Darling said it was something that needed acute addressing, but there I sat, words stuck in my throat, face to face with a patient expression, blinking back the cobwebs, racked with shivers—the fuck was I shivering for?—trying to summon anything, a single thing, to explain to this fuck what happened to me at the restaurant when I saw the stupid fucking Christmas tree, because if I could get one word out, then maybe I could stumble to the rest of them, but all I could get out was—

“Pine needles.” Was I even audible? Could she even hear me? I’m damned-near choking on my words, here, please tell me you heard it.

She nodded. “Okay. Pine needles. I’m listening.”

Listening to what? I can’t fucking speak.

“You said you journal, right?” she asked after another eternity of silence.

I nodded. It’s all I could do.

“Did you write about what happened?”

My face went cold when I realized what she implied. Her eyebrows scrunched together. Fuck no, I’m not reading you my journal. No. Absolutely not. Even if I wanted to, it lives at home, and I can’t remember shit about what I write down, so good luck getting me to spill. I blink and words are on the page in my handwriting, like I was possessed by some unearthly being, like some spirit seized control of me for an unknowable amount of time. I’m a marionette to an animal, a broken entity, to love, to hatred, to grief, to pain, to a facsimile of joy, ma’am, you have to understand. I don’t know why I do half the things I do. I don’t have a plan. I’m just kicking as hard as I can against the riptide and inhaling a lungful of salty air whenever I happen to get my head above water.

“I’m really interested in the lipstick print on your hand,” she offered, almost draping the words between us like a fine linen. I caught her gaze. Noted upturned corners of her lips. “You came in with one last week. Do you feel like telling me about it?”

Now my cheeks prickled with warmth. I fixated on the print on the side of my hand, turned it in the light coming in from the window to catch the tiny shimmery particles in the berry shade. “My-my girlfriend. Um…” Shit. Shit, where are my words? You know, if this was a kitchen, if she was asking me how to make a demi-glace, I wouldn’t fucking shut the fuck up. “It’s a comfort thing?”

She nodded, leaned forward. Tell me more.

“Uh, I-I feel less… alone, I guess?”

Therapist lady smiled broader. “That’s very sweet of her.”

Yeah. I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, it is. She’s, um, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s, uh, she’s really fucking smart.” I chuckled—where did that come from? “Like she always seems to know what’s going on with me, even before I do. But then she’ll also explain it to me, right?”—she nodded— “And it’s kinda like having a mirror who is actually paying attention, but then…” How do I put this? “She’s paying attention, but she doesn’t treat me like I’m stupid for not already getting it?”

She nodded again. “I think I follow. Do you have an example?”

I shifted in my seat and got a jolt of pain in my spine. I ignored it. “Um, so, like, early in the relationship, I-I kept getting, um… I kept losing my words? And she didn’t get impatient with me? Or-or, like, frustrated? And when I got frustrated with myself over it, she pointed out that I’ve never really had the chance to speak freely. And she didn’t make me feel dumb for not figuring that out on my own.”

“It’s pretty important for people to have the space to grow without being made to feel inadequate for not getting there before. We never know what life circumstances someone is bringing to the table. We owe it to them to give them the safety and space to grow when they want that for themselves. I’m glad you had that experience with her.”

Yeah. Yeah, all of that. It was funny; it almost sounded like that was all shit that Darling would’ve said.

“I want to go back to the panic attack you had last week, if that’s okay.”

My stomach flipped.

Darling did say therapy was going to be hard at first.

Tags: @carmenberzattosgf @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899

[possibilistfanfiction]

More surgeon suffering pls! Maybe bea learning more about Ava’s injury?

[definitely sooo gentle & no present-day suffering lol but here u go]

//

‘you can ask.’

beatrice’s gentle, callused, careful fingers still along your back, their patterns you can’t quite decipher gone quiet. ‘i would never do that.’

her voice is so soft and so relaxed, it’s not at all a reprimand; you can’t say it aloud, not yet, but you love her. you roll over so that you can see the gentle planes of her face through the silvery-blue light from the moon and the night outside her big windows, the blinds not yet drawn. she looks at you openly, patiently, like there’s nothing she wants to take from you; everything she wants to give. you know — in your heart and through your friends and your family and your therapist telling you over and over again — that you have so much to offer: you’re beautiful and funny and very smart, and you love the world more than anyone you know. you also know that beatrice is sometimes less sure of herself than she seems: she clams up every time her parents call, unable to tell them to, unequivocally if it was up to you, fuck off; she loves to be lazy and sleep in and wants no one to know; she still is in the habit of downplaying accomplishments, anything from a surgery she mastered (impressive in that you know how hard it is) to a new route she climbed at the gym (you have no idea but lilith was jealous and you can imagine it’s hot); she’s a horrible cook.

‘i know,’ you say, and you do. you let a finger drift down the bridge of her nose, count her freckles, feel the chapped bow of her lips beneath your thumb. she has a scar, small, through her left brow, and you trace it. ‘what’s this from?’

she smiles, always so quick to understand, always so generous. it makes you feel like you could light up the entire world sometimes. ‘i was five; my brothers were trying to teach me how to rollerblade.’

you think about it: beatrice’s gap-toothed grin and the delightfully terrible bob haircut she had for so much of her early childhood, the photos making you laugh when, unprompted, lilith showed you a few weeks ago when you’d all had dinner at a good oyster place near bea’s house. ‘can you rollerblade now?’

‘no, it frightened me. i never learned.’

‘putting that on the short list of things that scare you. good to know.’

she holds up her right arm so you can see the small scar on her elbow, the skin darker than before. ‘at university, i was drunk and my crush dared me to climb a tree.’

you can’t help the laugh it pulls out of you. ‘oh my.’

she nods. ‘yes, quite. needless to say, amelia and i went our separate ways fairly soon after.’

‘well, her loss. i’d have paid to see you fall out of a tree.’

‘i didn’t fall,’ she says. ‘i scraped my elbow on the way up, but i did continue.’

‘of course you did.’

she shrugs. you trace the scars across her chest, ones you love. 

‘camila told me you tried to go back to classes a week after your surgery. like, the day after you got your drains out.’

bea laughs. ‘yes, and promptly fell fast asleep about three minutes in.’

‘front row?’

‘well, the second.’

‘knew it.’

‘i can keep going, if you like. i have a good story about a scraped knee during field hockey at boarding school.’

‘homoerotic, i hope.’

she rolls her eyes, but based on her silence you know you’re right.

she lets you sit in it, easily, and her house is beautiful and warm and, you’re beginning to think — to hope — it might be full of your things one day, too. it’s easier to be brave here, but your words, the worst of them, still get stuck in your throat. ‘well, what do my scars tell you?’

she weighs it. ‘you know i’m more interested in cardio.’

‘you’re the smartest person i’ve ever met.’

‘well, you favor your left hand when you’re practicing sutures, and i know your left foot gets numb often. you have trouble with temperature regulation and walking long distances, but an easier time standing for the most part; your neck aches, i think all the time.’ she pauses. ‘your handwriting is abysmal, although i suspect that has nothing to do with your injuries.’

you’re about to start crying, but she makes things lighter, even now.

‘all i care about, ava,’ she says, soft and sure, a hand tangled in your hair and then gentle on your cheek, ‘is that you get the care you need, that you tell someone — me or anyone else who can help. and you can tell me whatever you like, if ever you feel ready.’

‘i can’t — i want to.’

she kisses your forehead. ‘like i said. it’ll always be up to you. i’m here.’

you take a deep breath. ‘my mom had a garden,’ you say. ‘she died, uh —‘ you get a little caught, stuck on the way her eyes looked when she wasn’t alive anymore, when you couldn’t move, when you were stuck for so long, screaming and so, so scared — ‘she grew all kinds of vegetables.’ your voice shakes but beatrice only nods. ‘and flowers. we were going to —‘ you sniffle and beatrice just wipes your tears — ‘i think she wanted to keep bees. i don’t even know if that was possible; we had a little yard. but everything grew.’

‘that sounds wonderful.’

‘it was, even though i hated eating my vegetables.’

beatrice laughs softly, admonishing in a way that’s harmless, fond. ‘you’ve grown so much since then.’

‘hey, i’ll have you know just today i ate, like, seven bites of a salad.’

‘very impressive.’

‘can i — not right now, because i think i’ll just cry too much, but — can i tell you more about her? i wish you could’ve met her.’ i wish i could remember her more; i can’t forget.

‘i would love that. and, if she was anything like you, i’m sure she would’ve lit up an entire room. it would’ve been an honor.’

‘bea, i really don’t want to cry again,’ you whine.

‘you should know,’ she tells you, a little firm, so there’s no argument. ‘she would be so proud of you. i know it; who wouldn’t be?’

‘that’s —‘ you bury your face in her neck, just for a moment, soft and warm and safe. 

‘would you like to plant a garden?’

‘in my tiny ass apartment?’

‘no,’ she says, and you can’t see her but you can practically feel her rolling her eyes. ‘here. i have the whole back yard and, frankly, no real interest in a lawn.’

‘i —‘ you back up so you can look at her, and her eyes are clear. ‘really?’

‘of course. i’m actually quite interested in self-sustaining agriculture, and the pacific northwest has great growing conditions for so much wonderful flora and fauna.’

‘wow. okay, but — it’s your house.’

she pauses. ‘ava.’

‘i just — you’re sure?’

‘i would really enjoy it, if you’d like. also, my friend marco, from the climbing gym, runs the community garden in their neighborhood and has been pestering me to meet you.’

‘you talk about me?’

‘of course.’

‘well, if marco will do all the heavy lifting, and preferably both of you not have shirts on, i’m so in.’

‘it’s february.’

you shrug. ‘you’re tough.’

beatrice laughs, and you sink into it, delight in it. you could light up the whole world, ava, she told you after two glasses of wine and half an edible the other night, entirely serious, crammed onto the small couch in your small apartment, your life expanding far beyond, past any walls you knew. 

‘next weekend, when we’re both off,’ she says, ‘we can go to the nursery nearby and get started.’

‘you’re —‘ the love of my life sits right on the tip of your tongue, but you kiss her instead. ‘thank you.’

‘thank you for telling me about your garden, and your mother.’

all you can do is nod, and then hold her after she turns over and falls asleep.

[abovaalltreecare]

The Role of Tree Surgeons in Maintaining Urban Green Spaces

Urban green spaces are vital in creating healthier and more liveable cities. Trees, in particular, contribute to the beauty, biodiversity, and overall well-being of urban environments. However, maintaining trees and green spaces in urban areas requires specialized care and expertise. This is where a tree surgeon or an arborist comes into play.

In this blog, we will explore the critical role of tree surgeons near you in maintaining urban green spaces. We'll understand their services, such as tree surgery, hedge cutting, and community benefits.

Tree surgery: ensuring health and safety

One of the primary responsibilities of tree surgeons is tree surgery. This involves diagnosing and treating tree diseases, pruning and shaping trees, and removing hazardous branches or entire trees. Tree surgeons in Godalming and other areas have the knowledge and tools to assess tree health and determine the necessary actions to maintain safety and longevity. By conducting regular inspections, they can identify signs of disease, decay, or structural issues, preventing potential hazards and ensuring the health of urban trees.

Hedge cutting: shaping and maintaining green boundaries

Hedges are essential to urban green spaces, providing privacy, noise reduction, and wildlife habitat. Tree surgeons also specialize in hedge cutting and maintenance. They skillfully trim and shape hedges to promote growth, enhance aesthetics, and maintain healthy boundaries. Properly maintained hedges ensure that trees are dense, well-maintained, and visually appealing, contributing to the overall charm of urban landscapes.

Planting and tree care: enhancing biodiversity

Tree surgeons also play a significant role in enhancing urban biodiversity by planting and caring for trees. They carefully select tree species suitable for the local environment and encourage native wildlife. A tree surgeon near you would understand the specific needs of different tree species and provide the necessary care, such as mulching, watering, and fertilizing, to ensure their growth and survival. Promoting diverse tree populations creates habitats for birds, insects, and other wildlife, enriching the urban ecosystem.

Emergency tree services: swift response in critical situations

In times of storms, severe weather, or accidents, trees can become hazardous and pose risks to people and property. Tree surgeons in Godalming offer emergency tree services, swiftly responding to such critical situations. They are trained to assess and manage dangerous tree conditions, safely remove fallen or damaged trees, and restore safety to urban areas. Their expertise and specialized equipment allow them to handle emergencies efficiently and effectively, minimizing potential harm and property damage.

Tree preservation orders and legal compliance

Tree surgeons are well-versed in local regulations and planning policies for trees in urban areas. They can assist property owners in navigating Tree Preservation Orders (TPOs) and other legal requirements concerning trees. Ensuring compliance with these regulations, they help protect valuable trees and preserve the integrity of urban green spaces. Whether obtaining permission for tree works or providing expert advice, tree surgeons guide property owners in making informed decisions while considering environmental sustainability and legal obligations.

The benefits to urban communities

The role of tree surgeons extends beyond their technical expertise. They bring numerous benefits to urban communities. Well-maintained urban green spaces enhance the quality of life by providing shade, reducing air pollution, and improving mental well-being. Trees and hedges in urban environments create a sense of tranquillity, promote recreational activities, and increase property values. A professional hedge-cutting would contribute to cities' overall aesthetics and sustainability, creating greener and more enjoyable places for residents and visitors alike.

Conclusion

Tree surgeons are crucial in maintaining urban green spaces by providing tree surgery, hedge trimming or cutting, and other specialized services. Their expertise ensures the health, safety, and longevity of urban areas' trees, hedges, and other vegetation.

From diagnosing tree diseases to shaping hedges, a professional tree surgeon like Above All Tree Care would contribute to communities' aesthetics, biodiversity, and overall well-being. By collaborating with these professional arborists and valuing their knowledge, urban areas can thrive with healthy, vibrant, and sustainable green spaces.

[waywardsalt]

uhhhhh a bit ago for a class i had to write a short story and then i wrote 20 pages in like three weeks which i havent done in forever. and i like it too so. heres what i would consider the 'final' fully edited version of that short story

Miséricorde

(Includes brief animal death and self-harm)

                Misericorde, misericorde. A sleek dagger with a long, slim blade. The weapon of a mercy killer, secured firmly to the traveling surgeon’s belt.

The surgeon held tight onto the misericorde’s polished hilt, gazing into the passing trees as she walked. With night soon falling, a place to set up camp was sorely needed. Collecting water was also appealing— a lake or a river would be nice. She’d been on the road for hours.

The surgeon sighed to herself. She started going through the pouches at her belt. Vials, her jar, her tools… She straightened up as she heard the distant creaking of wheels. She began to jog back the way she came and spotted a carriage pulled by a pair of large horses. Likely a merchant company, she realized, seeing crates in two of the three carriages following the first.

The leading carriage neared her, and the surgeon raised an arm and shouted, “Hoy there!”

The coachman jerked his head up and tugged the horses to a slow stop. She strode over, giving a short bow. “Apologies for any inconvenience, sir. Are you the leader of this…”

She trailed off, and the coachman, a gruff-looking man with tanned skin and a bushy beard, said, “Caravan. We’re a caravan, miss. Travelin’ merchants. What d’ya need?”

The surgeon clasped her hands behind her back. “Nothing urgent, sir, I merely just wish to ask if I may join your company for a time.”

“Ah, well.” The coachman slid off the bench and onto the ground to stand before her- he stood just a few inches shorter than her. “’m sure he’ll wanna know why we stopped…” He looked sheepish, then eyed the surgeon suspiciously. “Who’re you? ‘m name’s Kestral.”

“A traveling doctor, heading from town to town to aid any in need,” she briskly explained.

A man hurried over; Kestral stepped aside as an older man with close-cropped hair and a stern face reached them and peered at the surgeon. He narrowed his eyes at her, then at Kestral, who shrugged. “She says she’s a doctor, askin’ to travel w’ us.”

“I’m Elric,” the man simply said to the surgeon. “You certainly look the part of a traveling doctor. We aren’t opposed to picking up hitchhikers, so long as you earn your keep.”

“Oh of course, Elric sir.” The surgeon bowed again. Her hair was tied tightly back, and with her deeper bow, it fell into her face. She paused to brush it behind her shoulder before continuing. “I will offer my services freely when they are needed— I’ve just been walking a long while.”

“W-well.” Elric crossed his arms, looking a bit off-put. “Ma’am, you’re free to stay with us, so long as you cause no problems. Come, come with me, you look… exhausted.”

The surgeon was led to the second carriage and invited on, and hardly a moment after she laid eyes on her companions, the carriage began to move. She gave Elric a thin smile and turned to the others in the wagon. “I am pleased to meet you all.”

They stared at her, and Elric cleared his throat and introduced her quickly. A young man— vaguely resembling Elric— sat up. “Greetings, miss. You can call me Tash.” All of those in the carriage began to introduce themselves, and the surgeon patiently took note of all of their names and faces. Tash was a brown-haired youth, appearing related to Elric in some way. Sitting close together were a pair of ordinary merchants; West, a man looking to be nearing old age with graying hair, and Jassine, an older woman with world-weary features. The final two passengers were a pair of lightly armored women standing at the end of the carriage. One was Emm, with short black hair and her arms crossed over her chest, and the other was Lissen, red-haired and with an almost dreamy look in her eyes— the two caravan guards, Elric explained.

The silence returned when the introductions were finished, and the surgeon turned her gaze to the landscape they passed. The sunset painted the sky with fiery hues, and she found herself drawn to the deep reds she could see closer to the horizon.

“Uh, miss?” The surgeon turned; Tash was peering at her, leaning closer. The others in the carriage were looking at her. She felt a faint spark of dread. “You didn’t tell us your name.”

Ah. She shut her eyes a moment and suppressed a chuckle. She opened her eyes and shook her head. “You may just call me ‘doctor’. Through all of my travels, my name has admittedly been worn away and eroded from my memory.”

An easy, rehearsed lie. She privately judged their reactions. Tash looked curious, still, but satisfied. Elric had fixed her with a hard, inscrutable stare, and both Emm and Lissen raised an eyebrow. West easily accepted her answer and Jassine just gave a short hum. None of them pried further, and she turned her gaze back to the sky.

It was late in the night when they stopped. The front horses were kept reined to the first carriage, while the extra brought along by the back of the caravan were given a great deal of slack to wander. The surgeon trailed after the group when they dismounted the carriage and began unloading items from the third wagon. Sleeping bags, foodstuffs, a variety of items to set up camp. She helped without a word, and Tash thanked her when she joined him in starting the fire.

She used her misericorde to cut short some twigs they used. The dagger’s blade gleamed, but Tash’s eyes were drawn to the strange greenish hilt, dotted with specks of red. “I’ve never seen a tool like that,” he whispered. “What’s it made from?”

“I don’t rightly know,” the surgeon lied. “I picked it up in a town a few months back.” She tightened her grip on the bloodstone hilt. “It may be polished and painted wood, for all I know.”

Talk around the fireplace was lively. West prepared a meal for the merchants, and Elric discussed trade with Jassine. The surgeon listened in— they were textiles traders, starting from the far-off town of Corphen on a southern island. A few times, the topic of religion came up.

Tash was sitting apart from the rest. The surgeon settled down next to him. “You are Elric’s son, are you?”

“Did he tell you?”

“No. There is a resemblance. I’ve an eye for such things.”

“Oh.” Tash studied the grass at his feet. “You’re a doctor?” He stared at her clothing. “Is the white so it’s easy to see blood?”

“So it’s easy to see grime. I require my equipment to be clean in order to effectively treat wounds.” She brushed dirt off her jacket. “Foot travel is unappealing to me, as you can imagine.”

Tash was open with her as they conversed. The surgeon idly rubbed the bloodstone pommel of her dagger. He seemed the kind of person vulnerable to the harsher aspects of the world, but he was a kind soul without question. And yet his father’s eyes periodically fixed upon the surgeon for mere heartbeats at a time. Tash’s open kindness was certainly not an inherited trait.

They slept under the stars and woke with the rising sun. The two guards seemed constantly alert. Jassine returned to the carriages to check on the merchandise, and Kestral was off inspecting the horses. Tash was the last to wake, and Elric took him to the second carriage. The surgeon watched them go, then turned to West.

“How did you happen to acquaint yourself with Elric?”

The older man grunted in a good-natured manner. “Elric’s decently known ‘round these parts. We’re on the way to Nariko City, o’ course, and he ‘n his son hails from there. Bit of an up-and-coming name. Figured I’d get t’ know him in case he strikes gold.”

The surgeon nodded sagely and raised an eyebrow as she caught a glimpse of the skin uncovered by West’s rolled-up sleeve. “That’s a fresh-looking cut you have there.”

He blinked and peered at it. “Eh, this? It’ll take more than that t’ stop these old bones, nothing t’s worry about, miss doctor.”

“Know that I can tend to it if it becomes worse.”

“’Course. That’s your job, ain’t it?”

Tash and his father stayed in the second carriage for the rest of the day. The caravan moved on and the surgeon settled into the third carriage with the others. Jassine was the one to spark conversation with her, the surgeon careful with her words while they seemed to tumble out of Jassine, the woman having been an adventurer in her youth and now uses her experiences to craft unique textiles.

Still, at no point during the day did the surgeon feel particularly welcome in the group. They stopped for the night and again Tash struck up conversation with her. She was merely passing through, and despite her indulgence of Tash’s extroverted traits, was uninclined to share much about herself, as with Jassine.

The next morning, while helping inspect the carriage wheels, Jassine brought up the subject of gods.

“I take it you’re a religious woman?” Jassine asked, causing the surgeon’s heart to skip a beat. “Most people are. I’ve yet to meet someone who altogether denies the existence of the gods.”

“It’s only logical,” the surgeon quietly replied. “The magic in this land is the easiest proof, and we have those able to channel the power of their patron gods when needed. Why ask? I believe in these gods, but in my time traveling, having brushed against so many religions that I find it difficult to commit to one.”

Her words were lies, and they were ones that made her shiver. Her flesh, her blood, her bones, they knew her words to be lies, but they were lies that made her inwardly shudder. The weight of misericorde at her hip brought her back from her brief despair— it was silly to worry about such things, not when she so dearly believed in forgiveness.  She took a deep breath. “Are you a religious woman?”

“I am. A believer in the mother of the arts, the weaver of textiles and the painter of canvases and the writer of tales. You’ve heard of her?”

“Of course. I hear of many gods and beliefs in my travels.” The mother of the arts. An admirable goddess; the surgeon, on occasion, provided offerings to the mother of the arts, as someone with an earnest respect for creative pursuits. “The mother of arts suits you in your trade. Was there a different god you paid respects to in your time of adventure?”

Jassine scoffed and shook her head. She rubbed her fingers against a wheel spoke, then sighed, “Perhaps, but I didn’t pay as much mind to gods in those times.” She glanced over her shoulder before continuing, “I never told this to Elric, truthfully. I doubt West would care much, bless his easygoing heart, and Tash is such a kind boy. But Emm and Lissen have worked for Elric for years, and Elric himself is pious to a fault. Not the most tolerable man, really.”

“I know the type,” the surgeon murmured, her careful tongue slipping and allowing the depths of her misery and spite coat her words. The look Jassine gave her was thankfully understanding. The surgeon’s hand curled around the misericorde’s hilt, and she recomposed herself. “In any cause, Kestral will be pleased to know that the wheels are in perfect condition.”

It was that night, as they were preparing to sleep, when West pulled the surgeon off to the side. He didn’t speak, but the surgeon already knew what was on his mind; she’d treated enough patients to know the look of a man with a soured wound. He rolled up his sleeve and she recognized the look of a blossoming infection and guided him to lay down in one of the carriages.

She alerted the rest of the caravan before she began— there were looks of worry, the oldest member of the caravan having a wound nearing infection, but Jassine and Tash appeared to have confidence in her as she announced that she would tend to him to the best of her ability.

Elric followed her back into the carriage to watch.

She’d had audiences for her surgery before. Even audiences as stern as teachers strictly grading her work, and audiences as primordially observant as her goddess.

Before she laid out her supplies, the surgeon mouthed a prayer to her goddess.

Mercy, please, grant him mercy.

Bottles, syringes, jars, scalpels… all items from her pouches that she laid out on the carriage floor, all items that Elric eyed with suspicion.

“Have you never seen a surgeon work?” she asked, unable to hide her amusement at his scowl. “I should hope a merchant such as you would be at least familiar with some of these tools.”

“Just get to work,” he gruffly mumbled, and the surgeon did just that.

Her hands were steady and experienced. The last tool she withdrew was her misericorde with the bloodstone hilt, the polished silver blade glinting in the moonlight. West looked nervous; Elric stared at it with an unreadable expression. She set it down next to West’s arm and got to work on the wound.

She soaked a rag in disinfectant and cleaned the wound, ignoring the man’s pained groan as she soaked his cut and cleared away any dirt. It was a simple treatment, and she felt calm and comfortable picking through her bottles of ointment and stock of bandages. The wound was clean and needed to be dressed and wrapped, but before she moved on, the surgeon lifted her misericorde. “I need to create a small cut to help the infected blood escape.”

“Go ahead, ma’am.” West looked away, and the surgeon opened a small cut just below the bottom of the gash with a precise flick of her wrist. Blood leaked out, and she desired to ask him if she may draw extra blood with a syringe, but it was not the appropriate time. So, she moved quietly on to the final wound-dressing.

The ointment was meant to be cold against skin, and West hissed as she spread it in and on the wound. Once his skin was slick with the medicine, she began to wrap his wound in bandages.

“I need to check on this every night until this heals. If we reach town and it is still healing, find a doctor there to check on it.” West nodded obediently, and the surgeon tied off his bandages.

She gathered up her supplies and sheathed her misericorde, feeling Elric’s eyes follow her every movement. His suspicion hung over her for a long while after that night she treated West.  

A few days later, it was pouring rain. The horses pulling the carriages were large beasts with thick fur, bred for strength and stamina, animals the surgeon had scarcely seen.

But they were horses all the same.

So, when the trail became wet and slippery, and one of the horses stumbled at the edge of the ditch and fell, the crack of a broken bone reaching those in the second carriage, the surgeon prepared herself to carry out her misericorde’s core purpose.

Elric and the two guards hopped off the carriage, and the surgeon followed with her hood pulled on. Kestral was cursing, having stopped at the edge of the ditch. The horse writhed in the mud, its eyes rolling wildly in pain and distress. One of its forelegs was bent at an awkward angle. Elric scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, and Lissen sadly murmured, “Poor thing. Kestral, I’ll help you situate another horse.” The coachman grunted and started to cut the fallen horse’s reins.

“Will you just leave it?” the surgeon asked, innocent curiosity in her voice.

“Nothin’ else t’ do,” Kestral grumbled, straightening. “The weather’s too bad t’ stick around.”

“I can dispatch it quickly.” The surgeon crouched at the edge of the ditch. “No point in leaving it to suffer.”

“…Go for it,” Kestral responded with a shrug. “’m sure it’ll thank ya.”

There was no further discussion, and the surgeon was left with the dying horse. The rain would make it nearly impossible to salvage any parts of the animal once it was dead, but it deserved mercy nonetheless. She carefully slid down into the muck beside the animal, careful to stay out of the way of its hooves and sat by its head. She removed the glove from her left hand and laid her bare palm on its neck. The horse stared up at her with glassy eyes.

The surgeon raised the misericorde and made a thin cut in the horse’s neck, and she pressed a finger against the cut. Blood welled up around her finger and she shut her eyes, focusing on the animal’s blood. Her own blood seemed to burn in her veins as it dimly communed with the horse’s.

Be at peace. I will grant you mercy, as is my sworn duty.

The horse slowly relaxed, its eye still fixed on her, but it quieted and stopped thrashing so much. The surgeon kept her fingers pressed against the cut, and she calmly positioned the misericorde’s blade above the horse’s eye. The blade was thin and long— designed for a swift and decisive kill.

The thrum of the rain seemed to dim around her as the surgeon drew in a deep breath and plunged the misericorde deep into the horse’s eye. The animal thrashed once, then went still. She gently ran her fingers through its soaked mane, then slowly drew the dagger’s blade out of the eye. As it exited the wound, the gleaming blade was coated in blood, but the rain washed that blood and gore off the metal, leaving the blade as clean as though it had been freshly forged.

A new horse was attached to the front carriage as the surgeon sent a prayer along with the dead horse’s soul. Forgiveness to the broken bone that had led to its merciful death— it had been a loyal and proud animal, the blood had told her.

Tash’s voice rose above the rain, calling to her that they were going to get going again. She called back that she would catch up to them.

The caravan traveled on without her, and the surgeon removed a jar from her belt- a jar the size of her hand, three-quarters full of blood. She wasted no time— she slashed the horse’s throat with the misericorde and held the jar up to the wound to collect blood. It was blood that carried the life of the horse and was shed as a result of mercy. Once the jar was full to the lip, the surgeon screwed the lid back on, stood and bowed deeply to the dead horse, and ran to catch up with the caravan. Misericorde, gleaming blade of mercy, was returned to its sheath.

They slept on the carriages as the rain continued, and the topic of religion returned. The surgeon rolled onto her side at the edge of the carriage and feigned sleep. Jassine, Emm, West, and Elric talked, while Tash was snoring softly and Lissen was alert at the edge of the carriage.

“I reckon the church in town oughta like our stock,” West declared. “I’ve heard they have a few churches in town, I might visit and pray to th’ god of trade.”

Jassine laughed. “Of course, gold and demand are at the forefront of your mind. I might see if they’ve got an altar to the goddess of the arts.”

“I’ve no need for churches,” Emm muttered. “I do all my praying on my own— Don’t give me that look, Elric. I know the father of battle is a touchy subject, but it’s what I believe.”

“Be careful with that,” Elric tersely replied. “You’ve heard about the crusades.”

The conversation quieted. The surgeon willed her breathing to slow. Elric spoke up. “We should go through our stock in the morning. Make sure there’s nothing that could be seen as blasphemous or profane. The word of the lord of law is spreading, as it ought to.”

Emm didn’t respond; the surgeon heard her stand and join Lissen. The surgeon knew of the lord of law, and he was a stern, strict god, hands-off with his belief of respect and hierarchy. It was while hoisting banners of the lord of law that soldiers had run her and her fellows out of their homes and decreed their beliefs as heretical. The old surgical scar on her abdomen itched.

Gods of law, goddesses of nature, lords and ladies of trade and art and speech and government. She’d studied as many as she could, and found that the wider a deity’s domain, the wider the reach of their religion. But the narrower that domain, the more intimate the prayer.

In the following morning, she observed Elric’s prayer for the first time. He prostrated himself on the ground, his flesh, blood, and bones belonging to his lord and therefore something not to tamper with. Many religions held that view. Your flesh, blood, and bones are sacred and therefore are not to be touched, altered, or manipulated.

It was understandable why he was so suspicious of her. A doctor, a surgeon, meddling directly with the flesh, blood, and bones, though, so far, with little tampering that crosses the lines etched by his beliefs. Doctors in service to the lord often worked with potions and tinctures; surgeons, at most, usually just stitched up wounds. Deeper meddling was frowned upon. The body was a sacred temple, not to be breached or split open under decree of the lord of law.

The surgeon, as everyone else was busy, declared that she needed to wash, and walked off into the forest to find a pond. The lord of law was not her lord. She prayed to the mother of blood and so worshipped the body in a different way— a way in which touch, alteration, and manipulation was forgiven and celebrated when it granted mercy, in whatever form it took.

She found a clean pond and stripped naked, laying everything at the base of a tree. The water was cool and reached up to her knees at its deepest point. Her first job after taking to the roads was to remove a tumor from a priest of the lord of law. He was an old man who knew who she was, but did not care. Much of what she did to cure him went against the popular doctrine, but as he’d said, there are many gods in the land, and to unflinchingly treat the word of the lord of law as stone-faced fact was plainly ignorant.

He'd spoken his mind. There had been a passion to him; a passion more suited to a follower of the mother of blood than the lord of law, though the surgeon knew herself that her cold demeanor was at odds with her beliefs. When she’d become a proper blood-sworn, there had been frenetic partying and celebration with her peers, but her own emotions had always been subdued and measured.

The surgeon had brought two items with her into the pond— her misericorde and her jar of blood. She would wash in the aftermath of her ritual.

Her first ritual was an anxiety-ridden one, but no more anxiety ridden than her first surgery or her initiation. The coven she’d lived with had been gentle and reassuring every step of the way. The surgeon sighed and shut her eyes as grief washed over her. As a blood-sworn she was bound to forgiveness, but she doubted she could find it in her to forgive the people that had driven her from her home and killed her brothers and sisters.

The jar and the misericorde lay on a half-submerged log. The surgeon unscrewed the lid of the jar and lifted it. The blood inside was from a myriad of sources; the dead horse, a bandit she’d killed, a company of patients she’d treated at the last town. Humans and animals, blood of the healthy and sick and dead. She lifted the jar and tipped her head back and drank the blood.

It was warm and thick, the metallic taste more than familiar to her after her many blood-sworn years. She started with small sips, then took larger gulps— drinking deeply until the jar was empty. Not a drop was wasted— though, if the ritual went well, she would be forgiven for any waste.

She traded the empty jar for her misericorde and straightened her back. The wind sent a chill through her body, and the surgeon eyed her surroundings, looking for the slightest rustling of a bush. More so now than ever, uninitiated witnesses would not be tolerated— if not just for her nudity, then for the way her practices had been marked as deeply profane. She lifted her misericorde and admired the shining metal and the dark stone handle.

Her skin was tanned, and her forearms and hands were riddled with small scars. Old cuts and slips of the hand from her time learning to use the scalpel and misericorde in surgical acts. The surgeon held her left arm straight out, and she rested the tip of the misericorde on the underside of her elbow.

She drew in one last long breath, and tore the sharp blade through her arm, slicing it open from elbow to wrist. Blood sprayed and pain shot through the limb, but she remained on her feet. Blood streamed down her skin and poured into the water around her, the cut so deep that in some places the white of bone shone through besides the glistening skin and muscle.

She bowed her head and watched the blood dissolve and disappear in the water as accepted tribute. The pain in her arm faded, and the wound was perfectly closed with nary a scar when the surgeon lifted her head. The mother of blood had accepted her ritual and blessed her with healing and the knowledge that she’d been aptly merciful in her work.

The surgeon waded into a deeper part of the pond and quickly washed herself, then hurried back to dry herself off and redress herself. It would be unwise to be gone for too long. The jar returned to its spot on her belt and the misericorde was returned to its sheath.

A bush rustled, and the surgeon shot up and tore the dagger from its place and didn’t relax as Tash sheepishly showed himself. “What do you think you’re doing?” the surgeon demanded.

“Y-you’re a follower of the mother of blood.”

“Give me a good reason not to slit your throat where you stand. What do you wish to do with that information? Trade it off to your father so he can have me executed as a heretic? Use what you’ve seen as blackmail? Speak.”

Tash held up his hands, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry. I was just curious. I have no grudge against you. I don’t pray to any gods, and you’ve helped us so far. I promise to keep it a secret.”

The surgeon kept the dagger pointed at his chest and advanced closer to him. “See that you keep your word. You seem a kind soul; I hate to rid the world of your presence. Just know that while I am merciful and forgiving, that mercy can be ruthless.” She slowly put the dagger away, and they silently headed back to the caravan.

Neither of them spoke. Tash kept glancing her way, but with more curiosity than suspicion. The surgeon kept her eyes forward. There was a hitch in their step as the sounds of shouting drifted their way, and then they set off sprinting through the trees. Tash half stumbled through the undergrowth and the surgeon quickly left him behind with her more graceful dash.

The surgeon burst from the tree line upon a scene of bandits accosting the caravan, Emm, Lissen, and Kestral battling with them. The surgeon rushed to the nearest bandit— already engaged with Emm— and she wrapped an arm around his neck and sank the misericorde deep into his side. He grunted and fell as she released him with withdrew her blade, and Emm just gave her a short nod before joining Lissen. There were only a few bandits, but something about the weapons they wielded sent a shiver down the surgeon’s spine. Lissen had the sense to keep her distance.

Tash rushed into the carriage for safety. The surgeon slashed at the nearest bandit and managed to nick his throat- deep enough to reach the artery and cause blood to spray out. she breathlessly turned to Lissen as the bandit collapsed. “When did they show up?”

“They just got here, cocky bastards.”  Lissen sheathed her sword and nodded behind the surgeon. “Hardly capable. We’re already done. Thanks for your help, doctor— hm. Kestral looks hurt.”

The pair of them jogged over. With the body of a bandit slumped close by, Kestral was sitting against the first carriage. The surgeon lowered herself to the ground near him. “Let me see your wound, Kestral.” The coachman just groaned, and the surgeon gently lifted his hand away from his side. She hissed once she saw the wound. “Emm. Bring me one of the weapons.” The guard complied, and the surgeon started mentally considering her options.

When Emm presented the surgeon with the weapon, a plain dagger with a strange sheen, she scowled. “Ah, they used blessed weapons, wonderful. It would be helpful to know which god blessed them, that’s a waste of time now.” Kestral’s wound already had the smell of infection coming from it, and the skin and veins around it were turning a sickly green. “If I don’t work on this soon, he’ll die- please make sure I have space for this. I may need to operate on him— it looks like parts of that blade may have chipped off in the wound, likely another part of that cursed blessing.”

The surgeon hastily began setting out her tools, and ordered, “Find a cloth for him to lay on. I’ve seen such wounds before; there is only so much time before only magical solutions will work.” Emm complied and ran off without a word, while Lissen hung around. The surgeon glanced over at her. “Help me out here.”

Emm quickly found a plain cloth and laid it on the grass, and Lissen helped the surgeon move Kestral onto it. The two guards eyed the tree line, and the surgeon felt dread creep up on her as she cut away at Kestral’s shirt. “Please trust me, sir, I have the abilities to save you.”

He just nodded slowly, grimacing. The surgeon tensed as she heard footsteps behind her, but kept her focus on sorting her tools and thinking of how a normal surgeon could handle this— if even possible. Her eyes flicked up to Kestral’s pained face, and she tightly gripped her forceps and scalpel. With or without an audience, she would need to call on her blood-sworn blessings.

“Trust me,” she repeated, her voice strained as she became more aware of the rest of the caravan watching. She knew to inspect the wound- the basic treatment of applying disinfectant and numbing cream, and carefully checking the depth of the wound and extracting any metal. She’d treated wounds caused by blessed and cursed weapons before— her blood-sworn abilities gave her an advantage in meddling directly with her patients’ blood.

Once the wound was cleaned, the surgeon ‘accidentally’ slit one of her fingertips open. She could practically feel Elric leaning over her. Jassine and Tash sat on either side of Kestral. West was quietly tending to the horses. The surgeon drew in a long breath and worked faster. The poison was spreading quicker than expected, and she started to make small cuts with the scalpel along the infected veins, just barely remembering to numb each area— she would have to thank Jassine for talking to Kestral while she worked.

“Prayer may help,” Elric murmured, and the surgeon glanced briefly back at him. He shuffled over to sit next to her, in his hands a small white totem of the lord of law. “This poison is not natural to his body, and therefore throws off the law. The lord may help.”

“Sure,” the surgeon hissed, resolving to ignore him while she continued to open new cuts and apply medicine.

Nothing was helping.

Her hands stilled, and the weight of misericorde at her hip reminded her of her oaths. Of what she’d pledged herself to all those years ago, the god that she swore to provide mercy and forgiveness in the name of, the very reason why she’d made the ultimate show of faith and operated on herself in return for greater ability.

She met Tash’s eyes and reached for the dagger.

Mercy on this injured man, and forgiveness to the flesh that ails him.  

The surgeon drew the misericorde and deepened the cut in her finger, whispering, “Mother, aid me in my work once more.” Blood streamed from the cut, more so than was naturally possible. It didn’t matter who saw at this point, so long as they didn’t stop her.

She traced the coachman’s wound with her bloodied finger, a spark shooting through her arm as visceral connection was established. Kestral’s eyes shot open and met the surgeon’s, but through his blood she felt his tentative trust. She could trace his veins, find the path of the poison, and sense every detail she may need for her work. She doubted she would truly need to cut into Kestral’s body, instead just communing with his blood and flesh.

There was a furious bellow beside her, and Tash lunged past her to restrain his father. The surgeon steeled herself, blocking out the pious merchant’s angry shouting. The speed at which the vitriol towards her faith had spread still haunted her but she had rarely come into contact with anyone who harbored that vitriol and knew what she was.

She would have to thank Tash— no, not just Tash. Kestral, Emm, Lissen, Jassine, and West. Filtering out the poison and ensuring that it stayed out, she urged Kestral to stay still, continually impressing upon him that she only wished to help him. She traced the wound with her misericorde, and located the poison, dark blemishes among the vitality of the blood. Bizarre curses and blessings, highlighted by her desire for mercy. The desire that pulled her forward and kept her focused inward on the wound and the blood, compelling it to take ahold of the intruding poison and carry it back out.

Elric’s fingertips brushed her back, and she resisted the urge to turn and chastise him. Already she was seeing progress, a sheen joining the blood leaking from Kestral’s wound, and she quickly dabbed it up with a disposable rag. The cursing from Elric and the muttering from Tash urged her to work faster. “The poison is almost out,” she tensely reassured Kestral.

The color of the injured man’s veins returned to their normal color, and the surgeon kept her focus sharp until no more poison was extracted by the blood. She let out a shuddering breath and removed her bleeding finger from the wound. Kestral and all the others watching seemed to relax- Elric’s cursing had slowed down. She glanced back at him, taking in his scandalized expression. She turned back and sighed. “Kestral.” He winced. “I’m going to stitch up your wound.”

No protest. The surgeon got to work much more quickly than before, calm enough to talk. “When you reach the city, find a doctor and have them take a look at you. I promise you’ll live, but you will need to take care of this as it heals.” She paused, then added, “Do not tell them anything about me aside from my being a doctor. I am sure you know why.”

“Of course,” Jassine answered for him.

The surgeon stitched dutifully for a moment longer, contemplating what to do next. Threaten them? The reputation of her faith was bad enough. No, she would have to hold out hope that these good people would not sell her out. Elric, on the other hand…

Once the basic stitches were in place, the surgeon turned to face Elric, still held back in Tash’s embrace. The man began to speak, but she cut him off. “I care not what you think of me. Neither do I consider you to be in my debt. Understand that due to my faith, I am a woman of mercy and forgiveness, and I shall therefore forgive you for any hatred you hold towards me, despite the unfoundedness of that hatred.” She turned away and started to wrap bandages around Kestral’s waist, not wishing to waste any more breath on Elric.

She was pledged through the flesh, blood, and bones to heal in the name of the mother of blood, and her patient was more important than a man whose faith had turned him against her.

They reached Nariko city three days later. Kestral moved gingerly, but had, with the help of West and Jassine, taken good care of his wound. Elric had not spoken to her since she’d made her blood-sworn faith obvious— not that she wished to speak to him, anyways. Emm and Lissen flanked her as she stepped out of the carriage onto the city streets. Emm smiled at her, and Lissen just gave her a reassuring nod as she started off to leave.

She’d gotten where she needed to go and would move on once her job was done in the city. There was no reason to stick around with the caravan. It would likely pose a risk to her and her identity if she lingered.

The surgeon set off to find a hotel. She had messages to send and equipment to clean. She’d hardly taken a few steps as a hand on her shoulder prompted her to turn around. She was met by Tash’s melancholy smile. “…Thank you for saving Kestral. And… helping us. I’m sorry about my father. I swear to make sure he doesn’t endanger you and your identity.”

“Don’t be sorry. I forgive him, as I should. I hope you are successful in any of your future endeavors. I suspect you are one with a bright future.” With that, she turned back and walked off, adding over her shoulder, “Worry not about your father sharing news of a wandering blood-sworn surgeon. There are many like me, and you don’t even know my name.”

[lexicorp]

Ohgodstheresmore-

now I'm tryna decide wtf I want my own human Bill to look like

the left one was the last design I did a couple years ago, and it ain't bad, but I'm jus like eeehhh

bill has always been very shape shift in my brain too so that also confuses me when tryna pin him down to one lol

my Human Bill Cipher au is where he was actually born a regular human but has the mental illnesses and gets involved with dark magic. the euclideans in this world branched out from their 2D coils, there still aren't many left though since the group of them were the soul survivors of their degrading home world. aaand are thus are scattered across dimensions. Bill meets a disguised one and she is actually the one to get him involved with magic junk and creating that fun beast lol. she is very proud of herself-

anyway, here's also a bit of lore I scrounged from my documents:

As a kid, he was infatuated with oddities, and was curious as can be. He wanted to know it all, but aside from research, his father brought him on hunting trips and taught him how to cut the meat, and this sparked an interest in dissecting small creatures on his own. And when he wasn't doing that, he would play games like portal or zelda games, which his little bro ray liked to watch. His parents were often busy, his mother a surgeon and his father a lawyer. They found time where they could, and taught him and ray to be independent. As long as they did their chores and made sure not to miss school, and of course be careful and not stay out too late, their parents trusted them to stay with friends, go to the park, the library, etc. About when he was 10, a group of kids at school started paying special attention to him. The leader was a new kid from the city who started to try and make some sort of mini gang. He manipulated other kids into joining them, most guys. They would steal his work, break into his locker/his backpack, harass, and jump him. Bill tried to hide it, covering up or avoiding his parents when the gang had beat him. He found it a sign of weakness, and was ashamed and frustrated that he couldn't do anything. One day about a year later, he decided to bring a knife to school and stabbed one of the kids, after finding him alone. He carved carefully to inflict maximum damage without it being fatal. Needless to say he was expelled. Next year his parents managed to re-enroll him. During that time out of school he delved more into his hobbies, and was around the time he found books on magic in a hidden part of the library. It was usually closed off behind a bookcase, but the new librarian, oddly enough, showed it to him, and told him it was their little secret and that she saw potential in him. When it was nearing his 13th birthday, his parents had managed to get time off so that they could all go on a vacation on spring break. Unfortunately, they wouldn't get the chance to enjoy it. When they were driving, bill was reading one of the spell books over again, and trying to pronounce some of the spells. The dark magics combined with the fact that he barely slept, made him start to hallucinate. When ray tried getting his attention and he looked out the window, he saw white ghostly figures walking in the road, surrounding them as a fog filled his vision. Their arms reached the ground and their eyes were hollow, and when they opened their mouths they were like leeches. Bill told his parents to speed up, or dodge them, but they were just confused and concerned. When he looked at his family's faces they looked white and eyes blackened, and he could only hear them asking what’s wrong, in a pitying voice. His chest felt heavy and he struggled to breath. He took the wheel and flung them off the road, sending the car tumbling before being stopped by a large tree. In the end, the parents don't make it, ray barely survived with lost limbs and internal damage. Bill was practically a missile in the crash and thrown from the vehicle. The doctors said it was a miracle he and his brother survived. If it wasn’t for the witness who called 911 they wouldn’t have. When bill woke up from his coma, he had amnesia, and upon opening his one good eye the doctors were baffled by the snake eye that looked back at them.

Personality: Bill is confident, and will get frustrated when someone questions him/his actions. He has the idea that he knows what's best and that relationships of any kind are a waste of time. He’s relatively paranoid, and can get carried away, thus then throwing all reason out the window. When his head is clear he will strategize but if you tip him off his game he will become erratic and impulsive. He is obsessive when it comes to his interests and despite his curious nature, he will approach new things and ideas with skepticism. He has no problem pushing boundaries and toying with others. He’d rather torture than kill, but if you push him far enough, he’d end you. He has a variety of abilities, due to his experience with butchery and magic. He can shadowstep, utilize biomancy, arcane, fire, hypnosuggestive, dark magics, etc. He’s also a phase shifter in larian terms.

might edit some of this but yeah I am very much still tryna get my shit together

I have WAY too many stories/au's/crossover shit but gravity falls is so fucking in my brain rn I can't not do something XD

[skyloftian-nutcase]

(@hermitdrabbles56) The evening was a comfortable one, neither too hot nor too cold. The porch at Lon Lon Ranch was almost large enough to accommodate everyone, which was good enough - Time, Four, Legend, Sky, and Warriors were all lounging in various rocking chairs listening to crickets and birdsong while Wild and Twilight fussed over the horses, Wind talked to the token pig they owned, and Hyrule watched lizards scurry about near the dark, moist parts of the porch.

It was a quiet evening, and Four appreciated that. No one had much to say, and no one demanded conversation. They all needed the silence to recover from their insane lives.

But something was nagging the ICU nurse, and he had to break the moment, just a hair. He spoke up quietly, commenting, “I had a patient last night who was absolutely miserable. Nauseous and felt awful. And I… didn’t feel bad? Like, it didn’t stress me out like I had to fix it in that instant. Is… is that a good thing?”

He needed to know. He’d barely been a nurse for a year, and he felt like his empathy was already slipping out of him, drained from constantly taking on people’s problems and pain for twelve hours at a time while juggling all the decision making involved in keeping them alive.

Warriors hummed thoughtfully from his rocking chair, staring out at the trees. “Eh.”

Four blinked. “Eh? That’s it?”

“Eh,” Legend agreed with a shrug.

Now they were just messing with him, weren’t they? “I’m serious, guys, this is bothering me.”

“We’re serious too,” Warriors said. “Empathy is important, but you can’t let your concern and empathy turn into anxiety or distraction. It hurts to see others miserable, but it can’t stop you when you have to get things done.”

“Not to mention it’s draining as hell,” Legend muttered.

Four sighed, pondering the matter. He glanced at the other two on the porch for input, but Sky was snoring and Time looked too pensive for words. The surgeon did glance at him a moment, though, and their eyes met.

Time sighed. “It’s a balancing act. But it is far easier to lose touch with the human side of healthcare than I care to admit.”

Their words reminded him of another observation he’d made since working on the ICU. “Everyone on my unit is in therapy. Is that a good sign or a bad sign?”

Warriors shifted in his seat. “I mean… I guess good? It means they’re getting help.”

“Tch. Please.” Legend immediately quipped. “Everyone treats therapy like it’s some miracle cure. Something wrong? Go get therapy. Whole freaking world needs therapy! Give me a break.”

Time glanced at the nurse, raising an eyebrow and saying sternly, “Therapy doesn’t magically fix things, it’s true. But it does mean you’re trying to fix things and it gives you the tools to work on it.”

“I wonder if I need therapy,” Four blurred out before he could stop himself.

Time smiled reassuringly when the ICU nurse blushed. “Malon says everyone in healthcare needs therapy.”

The porch grew silent, everyone suddenly pointedly ignoring each other before Legend finally looked at Wars and said, “So you in therapy, then?”

Warriors laughed a little waving his hands quickly as if swatting a big. “Heavens no, I don’t need that. There are people far worse off than me, and not enough therapists out there for everyone.”

“What about you, Legend?” Four asked.

Legend shrugged, face growing neutral as he watched the sun set. “Nah, I’m fine.”

Four frowned. “So everyone in the ICU is in therapy and no one in the ED is in therapy?”

“It’s the emergency department,” Legend said, as if that explained everything.

“They don’t do self care,” Time added helpfully.

Both emergency nurses took offense to that. “Hey!”

“It’s an emergency medicine thing,” Time continued in a voice one might hear in a nature documentary. “Watch. Hyrule, do you go to therapy?”

Hyrule’s smile from watching a blue lizard scurry away faded into bemusement as he glanced at the group. “Huh? Me? No, why would I?”

Four stared at the paramedic a moment, and then hesitantly directed his attention towards the horses. “…Twi?”

Twilight turned, his face open and light. “What’s up, Four?”

“Do you go to therapy?”

“Therapy? For what?”

Four turned to Sky next, and Warriors beat him to it. “We all know he doesn’t go to therapy.”

Four groaned, his face in his hands. “You guys are ridiculous.”