#tw: terminal illness

[thepupperino]

Hi Keely! How about Gallavich in a 38 kiss?

HI SARAH first of all let me say—I am so sorry??? I know I’m kind of an angsty girl, but 😶

Anyway tw for cancer/terminal illness, lots of sadness ahead

(If you HATE this please let me know and I can find a different direction for this prompt I’m so serious)

38. …because they’re running out of time

It’s not what he expected when they got married, that one day he’d find himself sitting in a doctor’s office, his hearing fading out as soon as the oncologist said, “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t expect Ian to lose weight so quickly, the drawstring on his sweats cinched as tightly as possible, his body swimming in shirts that used to be too small.

He kept his hair through it all, always making some joke about ginger superpowers, but Mickey was ready to shave his head at a moment’s notice if it started falling out.

One year becomes six months becomes two months becomes “weeks, maybe”, and Ian’s decided he wants it to happen at home, in their little apartment on the West Side that Mickey’s not sure he can afford on his own.

Their insurance covered a hospital bed, one that adjusts so he can sit up to take his meds. Mickey hasn’t slept in their bed since they got it, taking the couch when the pain is too bad to have him close and crawling in beside him when Ian can handle it.

“You have to mourn me for at least a year,” Ian says, pressed up against him in the hospital bed. “You can date after that, I don’t care, but you have to be sad for at least a year.”

Mickey doesn’t know how to tell him that he’ll be sad for the rest of his life, so he presses his lips to his forehead and hopes he gets the message.

Anyway you can prompt me too if you want

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My sister was going to die in three days from kidney failure, but it’s fine because she got cursed with immortality. Also Jiminy Cricket was there. 🦗

[prince-honeypaw]

WARNING: This post contains mentions of terminal illness and parental death! Proceed with caution.

♡ There are no secrets kept between Tamaki and Mirio. They've grown up together since they were just developing their quirks and have been attached at the hip for just as long. Where Tamaki went, Mirio was never far behind! They're in perfect tandem.

♡ Up until their first year at UA that is.

♡ Going to a prestigious hero school was already very stressful for Tamaki, but that wasn't all that bore down on his frazzled mind. Not long before he was accepted into UA, his grandmother had passed away. She was his only living family member after his mother passed from a terminal illness when he was rather young, which meant that he was hopping from foster home to foster home his entire first year. It was terrifying for him!

♡ He was so afraid of being alone again.

♡ Mirio was at a loss on how to help his closest friend. He knew that Tamaki was struggling with moving every month or so, but nothing he tried seemed to alleviate that stress. From putting time aside to help him try to regress or taking him out to do something fun, it only ever ended in Tamaki going home in tears.

♡ It wasn’t until he started his work study with Fatgum that someone finally found the solution to—at least one of—Tamaki’s anxieties. He was adopted by the BMI Hero and finally had that stable living situation that he desperately needed in order to thrive! And, with that settled, Tamaki’s little slowly started to come back out one step at a time. He was hesitant to let Taishiro know about his regression, but Taishiro is one of the most understanding and open minded heroes out there. Different strokes for different folks!

♡ And, while happy that Tamaki was starting to feel better enough to regress again, Mirio couldn’t help but feel this little twinge of disappointment. Disappointment in himself for not being able to help his best friend when he needed it most. He tried his best to not let it get to him, but oh did his smile not quite reach his eyes for a time afterwards. He was afraid of not being needed anymore.

♡ Soon after, things went back to how they used to be! For the most part. New routines filled the cracks and became the new norm... Up until another wrench was thrown in the cogs a year and a half later.

♡ UA's dorm system was implemented for the safety of the students, but Tamaki feels like it was an attack on him personally. He had gone through so much to settle in with Taishiro! He paced and fretted over the new stressor for days upon days before it was time to move in. Taishiro promised that everything would be peachy keen, and that he'd always have his home in Esuha when all was said and done! It wasn't like he was being exiled.

♡ His words went in one ear and right out the other the moment he had to pack away his regression gear, squawking and fretting that someone would find out! He couldn't- He shouldn't- He WOULDN'T! And, regretfully, he didn't. Taishiro said that if he changed his mind, he'd have it all packed and ready to go when he saw him next, but Tamaki was stubborn in his decision.

♡ Moving into the dorms was suspiciously simple to Tamaki. He didn't drop anything, didn't trip up the stairs, didn't spill water on the new carpet in his dorm- And having dinner with the rest of his class wasn't a disaster either. It was actually... Very fun! Nejire was in the dorm across from his own and Mirio was just a floor away, so he didn't feel as alone as he thought he would be.

♡ It was nice. Something he would have to tell Taishiro about later.

♡ However, he hadn't noticed just how much later it had gotten! The sky had grown darker and most of the class had already disappeared into their dorms, leaving a chilling quiet to bear down on his mind. He'd been so content with the company of so many familiar faces that it never occured to him that his schedule had been thrown off entirely.

♡ First was brushing his teeth. Then was taking his medication with a bottle- A bottle he didn't have. That was fine, it was fine! There was no need to freak out, okay... He could just skip that part and take his medicine with a glass of water. Then he could get dressed and get Lilliput r- Lilliput was still at home. Okay... Okay, that would be harder to do without, but he didn't need to freak out! He... Papa could fix it-

♡ Like the shatter of glass, Tamaki's already slipping headspace crashed to the floor with that realization. Papa wasn't there. He was all alone now, all alone without the comforts he'd grown to rely on when the world felt so much bigger and he felt so... so small. Tears fell hot and thick, hiccups burning his throat. He was alone, he was alone, he was alone, he—

"Tamaki?"

♡ His breath caught and he snapped to attention. Mirio, suddenly understanding the situation with only a look, wore an expression that was as warm as sunlight, reaching out and taking Tamaki's hands.

"Hi there, sunshine! What's going on up here?" He asked with a gentle tap of his fingertip to the baby's forehead. Tamaki blinked through the tears and immediately jammed himself into Mirio's comforting presence and fit against him like a puzzle piece, hiccuping when he managed to speak. His words were jammed together between panic and his headspace, but Mirio nodded along as though it was just another conversation.

♡ Because, to him, it was! He knew baby Tamaki just as well as he knew big Tamaki, through timid mumbles and teary babbling, Mirio understood him. Rough thumb pads gingerly wiped the still falling tears off his ruddy cheeks, and Mirio spoke in a soft voice he knew was just for him.

"Okay, I gotcha, I gotcha! I still have some of your stuff on hand, remember?"

At the slow nodding, Mirio smiled, "That's right, so we can text your papa that you need your stuff and go get it after class tomorrow, 'kay? It's no big deal."

♡ Tamaki, still sniffling, echoed the words, "No big deal...", before letting Mirio guide him through his nighttime routine with what they had. A sippy full of water and a puppy plush suited him just fine, but following Mirio to his room was just inevitable. He felt so much less lonesome with him there and Mirio couldn't find it in himself to take Tamaki up to his own room.

♡ So, they settled in for the night in Mirio's dorm. Tamaki picked out a story on his tablet while Mirio washed the spare pacifier he kept around for Tamaki when he would stay over. With the pacifier clean and the sippy refilled with fresh water, Mirio returned to tuck in under the covers and pop the soother in Tamaki's mouth. They were in for a night of reading fairy tales and just being together.

♡ Tamaki barely lasted more than five minutes before he dozed off, his head resting against Mirio's chest. The thrum of his heartheat against his ear was like a lullaby soothed him into letting out a murmured, "N'ni, Mewi..."

♡ While holding Tamaki in his strong, scarred arms and stroking calloused fingers through indigo blue locks, feeling Tamaki's breathing slow into a gentle purr of sleep... Mirio wonders what he ever had to worry about in the first place.

[vlouette]

Story Prompt

(TW: terminal illness, mention of time left to live)

James Potter has a terminal illness that leaves him only 1 more year to live while he was grieving he met this one guy (regulus) in a coffee shop and immediately fell in love he spent a few months going back to the coffee shop just to admire the guy from afar before one day he built the courage to talk to him, then some shit happens (I can't get too much into the details that I have in my mind because it is very long and I'm not the best at wording stuff) then they finally start dating. But James was too busy falling in love and admiring from afar not realizing that he only had 1 month left to live after they started dating

can someone write this... if anyone wants to write it I can help brainstorm more ideas just DM me

[batwynn]

A Recipe for Grief

With shaky hands he crushes the chunks of still-too-cold butter into the sugar, impatient for the taste of it. It’s a gift, his mom’s chocolate chip cookie recipe that has no recipe. He can’t write it down, it’s made of handfuls and feelings. It tastes just right. Tastes just like the memories of tall kitchen counters and the smell of cheap vanilla extract. Of the excitement of creation, and the sweet reward of the work.

His mom is still here, in the other room. But today he’s letting the grief creep in as he mashes a fork through the slowly melting butter. He knows he doesn’t have the memory like her, to keep this recipe alive. He knows he has no one to pass it down to, no one to teach by showing the handfuls and speaking the feelings. He knows there isn’t a lot of time before she can’t correct his mistakes with it anymore.

The words “pregame grief” pop into his head, and he laughs a little as he cracks the eggs. His whole life has been pregame grief, one batch of cookies at a time. He knew what the threat of death was when he was five, knew there was an inevitable end to the familiar. To the safe and comfort of old, green sweaters and chocolate chip cookies. Predictable as the sliver of eggshell that always makes its way into the dough.

Maybe it’s a gift. Learning early on that that one and only person could be gone at any moment. Maybe it steadies the hands when you get the news that the end is predictable, written down like everyone else’s recipes. Maybe it keeps you up at night, trying to find ways to re-write the measurements. Ways to avoid burning when you have to bake them. Trying to find ways to let it go, and let the science and time do their work.

But letting it go is hard. Measuring with your heart when your brain tells you that’s too many chocolate chips. Letting go says the whole bag, why not? Life is short. Life is short, but it’s coming together now and forming something cohesive. The wet and the dry. The whole bag of chips, she says from the other room. It’s a gift.

[bringthekaos]

On a more serious note i remember taking a screenshot of each time Viktor is like. *Looking* at the Hexcore and. Man. Stop looking at it as if its your wife or like your drug. Its scary. Please return to being normal. I can’t believe Jayce never noticed how concerning it was

I truly believe, had he not been forced into politics against his will, and was spending his usual amount of time in the lab, Jayce would have noticed. I feel like the “are you sure this is safe” line was even hinting at his worry about the risks Viktor was taking with the Hexcore.

I also think that whatever this influence is that the Hexcore is exuding onto Viktor (whether it’s the Void or not)… it’s sentient. It knows it needs to keep itself secret if it wants to continue to put its feelers in Viktor’s psyche, and as such, I feel like it started to manipulate Viktor’s behavior. Viktor already had a tendency to pull away from people when he was struggling (“he disappeared. He does that sometimes”), so it wouldn’t have been that much of a stretch for this habit to get worse without people around him noticing (especially in the wake of his terminal diagnosis—everyone has a different reaction to a terminal diagnosis, and sometimes solitude is one of them. Jayce may have wanted to respect that. And that’s a slippery slope, with no right answer—do you force yourself into someone’s personal life when they don’t want you there? Do you leave them alone, even when it’s clear they’re hurting and could use the support? I can understand how they end up in a sort of stalemate, because everyone is afraid of encroaching on boundaries.)

But the sad truth is that Viktor’s desperation to save himself is what drove him to these extreme measures, and even without the Hexcore’s influence, that desperation would still be there. The Hexcore was his hope, and I understand how hope—even when flawed—can be addicting. At that point, there would have been no going back to “being normal,” because either way he’d suffer. He truly is backed into a corner, and the inevitable snarling, gnashing, lashing-out rage at the injustice is yet to come, I think.

[wellthebardsdead]

Astarion being able to smell and taste Tav’s blood and he detects they have something the likes of terminal cancer. At first he doesn’t say anything, he’s just using them for protection and food after all it’s none of his business. But then he starts to fall in love. His heart breaks hearing Tav speak so hopefully about their future after getting rid of the parasite. And he realises the disease is going to take them away from him and with no cure in sight he’s left with one option… and his heart is too selfish to ever let them go after feeling genuine love for the very first time…

So he Ascends against their wishes, and turns them, giving them his blood too so they can walk in the sun together and he can try to give them their hopeful future… however dark his new twisted nature may ultimately make it in the long run.

[moralpuppet]

In your main verse, how do you envision Orel growing up? His family, his beliefs, stuff like that?

In your main verse, how do you envision Orel growing up? His family, his beliefs, stuff like that?

Okay so if I had to give some key notes this is going to be long and rambly, and feature talk of depression , death , terminal illness so please be careful going through ... starting from the end of the episode honor here you go ....

OFFICIALLY UNRELEASED CONTENT / END OF THE SHOW

talking about Grandpa Puppington / goth Orel / I mention terminal illness and death here so please skip over if needed !

Orel by the end of the show is 13 . It's not ever OFFICIALLY announced but we know from season 1 his birthday is after Halloween and before Christmas . He never fully recovers from being shot and as they said in the last episode he continues to limp even in deleted scripts that follow episodes that never made it because of the shows cancellation .

We know that in unreleased scripts he loses his grandfather on Easter after Clay basically condemns Orel's Grandpa to Orel's bed as a death bed when Arthur Puppington ( Orel's Grandpa ) comes to Clay seeking reconciliation as he is terminal .

Orel comes home to Arthur every night and tells him about his day , getting a new perspective on lessons , as we know , Orel usually mistakenly gets wrong/misguided by . Arthur is essentially a grounding perspective and helps Orel become a little more wary of what he trusts .

Orel at this time seems , at least in the scripts , to have not forgiven Clay but he's still caring about Clay , at least still showing that he has some respect and generally loves him as his father still . He prays to God for Clay and Arthur to reconcile in hopes that it would stop Clay from "getting any sadder " I quote he says " he can't afford to get any sadder " . Of course that never happens and they never reconcile .

After Orel loses Arthur , he becomes a Christian Goth for a while sort of not denouncing his faith but not fully committing to it either. He is essentially lost and he's in this state of grief for a few weeks until Reverend Putty can't stand seeing him like this anymore and snaps him out of it .

That's it for unreleased stuff really ... Here's where headcannons come into it .

HEADCANNONED STUFF !

Relationship to faith after Goth Orel tm ! Found family

Things don't necessarily go back to normal but Orel is now finding that returning back to focusing on his faith is actually helping him with the grief and loss . As my good friends @ rvrend and @ dollene have built up he comes to Reverend Putty more and more , finding that the good reverend is more like a father figure to him than Clay but not quite making that leap because of the views he was raised on that he must honour his biological father . Noellene too is far more motherly than Bloberta . She is more emotional unlike the emotionally withdrawn Bloberta .

Orel also is a far better brother to Shapey and Block , teaching them to do stop motion animation too and helping them get schooling by teaching them at home so they could enroll in a public school .

FAMILY / CHRISTINA AND DOUGHY

Eventually , in his late teens to early adulthood ,Orel finds an interest in architecture of religious buildings , something he could sculpt out of clay and design in other ways like he used in his stop-motion videos / my friend scribbs actually suggested this one . And of course all the while he and Christina are still very much sweethearts.

His relationship to Clay and Bloberta become estranged but he still invites them to important gatherings, probably had to kick Clay out of his and Christina's family home for being a violent drunk a few times . Clay and Bloberta are still stuck together ! Block and Shapey become a fireman and a police officer ! Orel and Christina of course get married and have a family of their own like in cannon.

Lastly , I will say Doughy , Orel always wanted to stay in touch and still be his best friend but I quite like the fan headcannon by the fandom that Doughy is incredibly jealous of Christina due to actually having a crush on Orel since childhood and maybe sadly he pushes Orel away .

Orel always keeps his faith .

OKAY so that was a lot but if you ever want to ask any more questions or for me to elaborate on anything let me know !

[veilxstars]

Prompt One:

In his nightmare, Lucian found himself back in the cramped room where his little brother Javier lay in bed, pale and fragile, his small body barely a whisper beneath the tangled blankets. The room was filled with a dim, sickly light, the air thick with the scent of medicine and stale air, punctuated by the faint rustle of his father’s heavy coat and his mother’s hushed, soothing whispers.

His parents stood beside Javier, faces lined with exhaustion and hope, promising him yet again that they would keep fighting—together they would make him well, they swore, voices breaking with the weight of belief. "We'll do anything we can, Javi," his mother said, her fingers trembling as she smoothed his hair. "You'll get better; we won’t stop until you do."

But Lucian saw Javier's expression, caught the faint quiver of his lips, the exhaustion that hung on him like a shadow. He saw his small hand, barely able to lift itself from the bed, reaching out, and all he wanted was to hold it, to wrap himself around him, to take away his suffering.

Yet his feet would not move. He could only watch, heart breaking as his parents’ voices filled the room with promises he knew they couldn't keep. The darkness outside the small window deepened, creeping into the corners of the room, seeping toward Javier's bedside, hungry and patient.

Desperation flared within him, a frantic urge to save him, to take away his pain, even if it meant abandoning his own strength. But his hands were empty. When he finally managed to take a step forward, reaching toward him, Javier’s face turned toward him, his eyes dark and weary, filled with an understanding far beyond his years.

“Lucian…” he whispered, the words too soft, fading into the shadows as his form grew weaker, slipping from his grasp. He stretched out his hand, desperate to close the distance, but Javier was slipping away, swallowed by the encroaching dark, as though even the memory of him were fading. His parents continued to murmur their promises, as if nothing had changed, as if he hadn’t already begun slipping through their fingers.

His heart ached with the emptiness of the words, the broken promises that lay heavy in the air as the dream unraveled around him, leaving him trapped, helpless as he reached for a little boy who was already too far gone.

With a gasp, Lucian jolted awake, heart racing, his hands gripping the bedsheets as if to anchor himself back in reality. The shadows in his room seemed to recede reluctantly, leaving only the lingering sense that something had followed him back from that dreadful dream, waiting patiently in the dim corners of his room. He had sold his soul, hadn't he?

The devil was coming for his due.

Prompt 2:

Lucian walked briskly down the sidewalk of Cardinal Hill, his thoughts swirling like the autumn leaves skittering across the pavement. The air had taken on an electric charge, a tension building that felt almost tangible, as though the world itself were holding its breath. He had been mulling over a new magic trick, something elaborate he hoped would bring a bit of joy to the children in town, when the wind began to shift—suddenly fierce and unrelenting.

The sky darkened, casting ominous shadows across the street, and the trees bent low, their branches swaying violently. As the gusts intensified, they carried with them whispers—murmurs of regret that intertwined with the howling wind, each one striking deep within his heart.

What if this was the time he would have been cured?

His pace faltered as guilt clawed at him, the voices swirling around him like a storm of doubt.

What if you killed him?

The thought landed like a stone in his chest. He shook his head, desperately trying to banish the dark musings. It was too much. Memories of his last moments with Javier flooded his mind—the way he had smiled through the pain, how he had promised him they would find a way together. He had promised.

The wind howled louder, as if mocking his internal turmoil. What if he is in heaven and he hates you? The question echoed, a specter that loomed larger than any illusion he could ever create on stage. Lucian gritted his teeth, his heart racing as tears threatened to spill.

“Stop it,” he murmured, forcing his feet to move forward. But the whispers only grew louder, relentless in their assault. He could almost see Javier’s frail figure in his mind, the way he had looked at him with trust, with love. The weight of his choice hung heavily on him, suffocating and insistent, leaving him breathless.

He stumbled to a halt in front of Mabbitt’s Magician Supply Store, his sanctuary, but even the familiar sight of the shop couldn’t chase away the shadows that clung to him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, steadying himself against the relentless gusts that sought to tear him apart.

“Javier,” he whispered, his voice nearly lost in the wind. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have done more. I wish I could have saved you.” With each word, the tempest around him seemed to still momentarily, the whispers fading into a heavy silence, as though the world were listening.

Then, as the wind howled again, he began to speak a prayer in the old tongue known only to the Castillos—a language crafted to protect themselves as they traveled the country, words flowing from his lips like a balm against the raging storm.

“Ti síella, síon seyte, ávra séin yuven. Dureyka, llétiya, aivran’te.”

In that moment, he poured all his love, all his guilt, and all his hope into the prayer, the air around him shimmering faintly as the ancient words filled the space. He prayed for forgiveness, for peace, and for the strength to carry on in his memory, the wind finally subsiding into a gentle breeze, leaving him surrounded by a tranquil hush. Lucian stood there, heart still pounding, but resolute, feeling the weight of Javier’s presence as if he were beside him, offering comfort in the depths of his grief.

[hermesserpent-stuff]

Ive been rewatching the Justice League 2001 animated series cause its been a while since I watched it. and the bit were luthor finds out he has a blood disease from kryptonite was something I had forgotten about. I was listening to music when a full idea tapped at me.

tw: terminal illness discussion

preface, in my chilly batson au lex luthor and mirror master, sam scudder are friends.

anywho, I was thinking how that scenario would play out. I would edit it a bit, that the same experiment with kripotnite in his youth that caused him to loose his hair also gave him the underlying disease that was not caught till recently (this way it can be his fault but also not from carrying a radioactive rock in his pocket that he should have been keeping in a case om gosh luthor you idiot) it would be fairly similar to the show where he cant really accept it at first. But Superman is not the one trying to comfort him, its an actual friend. Luthor tries to solve it because that's what he does, but he also is less focused on revenge against superman for 'causing' this. He eventually settles into focusing on legacy and grows further withdrawn. He spends more and more time with the rogues as he finds a replacement. He finds it hard to see a world without him in it, but he finds that he does not want to be forgotten if he can not save himself.

there is a lot of late night crisis's of realizing that he is dying. and coming to terms with that.

he strikes me as the type to keep working and running the parts of the company that he can, because work makes him happy. But he also spends a lot of his final days playing chess. He sees some of his words of advice impacting the younger rogues and wonders if that is what it means to be immortal. To influence the future beyond his own life by speaking into the lives of those younger than him.

he leaves a lot of his anti-superman gear to the rogues. Just in case. He never did much trust superman not to snap or get fully mind controlled one day. and he trusts the rogues more than most of the other villains he has worked with.

anyways. i was listening to:

[amethyst-noir]

8 weeks ago I lost my mom, the most important person in my life.

I knew it was coming and by the end I was so just telling her to go to sleep for "as long as possible". It was the hardest thing I've ever done and I'm glad that the last thing we ever told each other was "Ich hab dich lieb. Ganz, ganz viel." (I love you. So, so much.) She was barely there, mentally, by that point but she understood that and she said and back and meant it.

It's a phrase we told each other multiple times every day, for years, and it was always sincere and an integral part of our relationship.

It matters. To me, it matters a lot. I was there just in time, in the afternoon on that Friday 8 weeks ago. I left at about 16:30, and got the call the next morning that she passed at around 5 in the night.

I also promised her to see her "tomorrow". I kept that promise, in the only way I could. I stepped into that hospital room for a few minutes and tried to wrap my head around what happend. I said goodbye. I'm not religous, so the only thing I could to say was that I hoped our atoms might one day be reunited in one way or the other. We're all made of stardust, aren't we?

I'm dealing with it. Badly, but I'm doing it. I have no other choice. By now I have written so many different versions of this post. I guess I just want to share it somehow. My mom has become a very introverted person over the decades and I want to shout it into the void that she was there, that she was loved, and that she will be missed for as long as I am here.

Fuck cancer.

I love you, Mama, and I wish life had been kinder to you.

[nvrlcnds]

Sorry for being so MIA, everyone. I will be back in the swing of things shortly. A few weeks ago we lost a family friend unexpectedly, and then the day after we buried her, my aunt died. We were processing that, and then my mom was sent to the hospital. She only just got to come home last night, and I'm keeping an eye on her as she does have two terminal illnesses, COPD & Lung Cancer; though the cancer is stable, and is not spreading. Regardless, her lungs are slowly collapsing from COPD which is why we have so many frequent hospital trips and why every few months or weeks, I tend to disappear. I'm her caregiver and the one who looks after the house, so it does take a lot on me mentally. Just thought I'd let everyone know, and that I am not ignoring replies or whatever it may be <3

[dontyoufeelcalmer]

terminal bf saved by a werewolf bite, the third installment

please do not repost w/o @ing me!!

[iamtheshriekingguineapig]

IT'S THE DAY BESTIE!!!!

It's blursed Nero Pig day! The day of his blursed birth! Happy Birthday, Nero Pig, my cursed icon.

The only thing is, I think it's tomorrow, actually, that is the blessed/cursed anniversary of his birth- and I only say that because there's a little bit of a backstory to Nero Pig.

So, a year ago tomorrow is the day that my Dad died. Which, like, sounds terrible- but, like, hear me out-

We were estranged, hadn't talked in years. I didn't even call him "dad" anymore- that's a title reserved for my step dad. And I knew he was going to die, because he had terminal cancer. It was one of those matter-of-time, but we don't know when sort of things. He lived pretty much exactly the 6 months they gave him in his prognosis though, so...there's that.

Anyway, even though we were estranged, I was still obviously torn up about it. It was rough. So, like any self-respecting Gen Z, I was obviously curled up in bed scrolling through tumblr to distract me from my woes, chatting with the mutuals. We were talking about my url and how I'm jokingly referred to as "nero" in my friend group, one thing led to another and I said basically that I needed a Nero/Guinea Pig fusion to represent me on the social medias.

And @avaantares went "give me an hour"

And thus was the birth of this abominable photoshop creation. It actually took a lot of work to get the colors to match right- more than an hour's worth of work. And she did it just because I was sad, and she wanted to cheer me up.

And, I don't know, guys- it is just a dumb little icon based off of an even dumber joke. But I'm a disgustingly sentimental person, and so something like this just reminds me that even when things suck, my friends (internet mutuals and people I actually get to touch grass with) will be there to help cheer me up. It's sappy and stupid but it does actually mean a lot to me.

So thanks to everyone who helped make that shitty day better, whether you knew what you were doing or not. Thanks, @avaantares, for making the cursed thing (it's better than a long furby, and somehow more cursed). Thanks, @princesssakurasylveon for helping make this the anniversary of the Most Joke of all time, instead of just something sad. Thanks @sunburn-faded (a.k.a., Mint, My Behated) and @spoiler1001 and everyone on the DMC discord (I know I'm never on there anymore but I promise I still like you guys!) for cheering me up when I was down. I'm really grateful for you all, you depraved heathens, and I just want you to know that.

So, yeah, sorry to make it fairly sad and incredibly feely and mushy, but I'm Like That. And I really do appreciate what everybody did for me a year ago, even if you didn't know you did anything.

So, happy Blursed NeroPig day! May he reign forever and ever, amen! We'll celebrate him next year with much less sappiness and with all the adoration his blursedness deserves.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

[shiloh-the-pokemon]

ENTER PASSWORD: kickingscreamingandmaybeevenbiting

PASSWORD ACCEPTED

LOADING VIDEO WITH PASSPHRASE: kickingscreamingandmaybeevenbiting

...

[A person with long dark hair is sitting in front of the camera, their bangs obscuring their left eye. They also wear a blue and teal striped scarf.

They look up to their right, "is it on?" A hand reaches down and points at the camera. The person looks at it, "oh cool, thanks." After a few seconds the sound of a door shutting can be heard. The person clears their throat.

"hey shiloh of the future. its me. shiloh of the past. dr baerns said it might be good to record this. so you hear all this stuff from me- er, you. whatever lets not get into technicalities.

so fair warning im about to say some pretty weird and pretty scary stuff. dont freak out. well dont freak out too much. you have my blessing to freak out a little.

so basically whats going on is you might be missing some memories. the doc said a month or two could be gone. but theres a good reason i promise.

okay. so basically we- i- fuck this is weird. i am dying. not normal dying either, like.... terminal illness shit. dr baerns over here said 'hey shiloh, youre so cool and awesome, we got this experimental procedure to keep you from dying young."

so me? us? whatever i said 'yeah man im not dying young lets do this' and anyway im in some weird hospital laboratory thing. uhhh its a little bit weird here. but yknow. ill take my chances cause ive got a whole ass life to live.

i dont know the full details of what theyre doing but apparentely its something about 'physical relocation of consciousness' which sounds scary as fuck but yknow we ballin.

but if youre watching, future shiloh, that means it probably worked. congratulations. youre dying at the normal rate. go to college, be an archaeologist. sorry about the whole memory thing. but uhh. were alive. fuck, if this works and i get to live again, i just cant fuckin wait.

stay cool, future shiloh."

They fiddle around with the keyboard on the desk, muttering a couple swears under their breath. After a bit, they let out a triumphant cry, "aha! theres the end recording button, you sly dog."

They look back up at the camera, "oh one more thing before i go. if youre watching this future shiloh, hug mom for me."

They find the button much quicker this time. They look up at the camera one more time, and give a faint smile.

The video ends.]

...

...

so thats the real shiloh huh. they really wanted to... live.

i want to go back to college so bad. for their sake, for my sake. i want to live life again just like i wanted.

i want to hug mom for them. for me?

but i dont even know if im shiloh anymore

this isnt fucking fair

[beautifulhigh]

I wonder how much criminal trouble Owen would actually be in if what he did was found out. When Robert initially asked him to help, Owen hesitated because he didn't want to take a life, but Robert assured him that he wasn't asking Owen to kill him, but just be there, clean up the evidence, and be the one to "find" him. At the very least, I guess Owen would be lying to medical professionals and potentially police...there would probably be a police report, right? Maybe some kind of destruction of evidence, but it's evidence of a suicide, not murder, so it doesn't seem all that serious of a crime. He didn't have a legal obligation to stop Robert from killing himself. Not that this makes it not traumatic for Owen to go through, of course! I just don't think there will be any issue of potential criminality on Owen's part, especially considering the "logic" of this show. Like if Carlos can threaten a man with a gun and almost kill him and not get into any kind of legal trouble, I think Owen is safe, regardless of whether he tells TK and/or Carlos about it!

Owen absolutely, 100%, broke the law:

Code Section Health & Safety 166.45-51 Euthanasia Condoned in Statutes? Mercy killing or euthanasia is not condoned or authorized by Texas law, nor is any act or omission other than to allow the natural process of dying.

I had to Google this and about a dozen prompts for Samaritans and helplines popped up. So yay for that I guess?

Owen was aware of what Robert planned to do. Failure to intervene, the omission of action, makes him guilty.

Owen watched as his brother ended his own life and did not intervene to save him. That makes him guilty because he did have a legal obligation to stop him. One could even argue that his role as a First Responder meant he had even more of a duty to preserve life.

The plan was (and we assume carried out) that Owen would remove the evidence that Robert took his own life, which is as its simplest terms him covering up a crime.

Owen absolutely broke the law. No arguments, no room for doubt. And, unlike Carlos, done with rational thought and planning.

(Carlos was still in the wrong, but there are degrees of wrong.)

Robert wanting to end his life is one thing, and I get why he wanted to do it while he still could. I get why he wanted to do it at Owen's so his family would be spared finding him (in time or too late, neither option is enjoyable). Plus Life Insurance policies pay out for terminal illnesses, not suicide. This way his family are saved from the pain of knowing he deliberately took days away from them, from the guilt of not finding him in time, and they are financially taken care of. It's why he couldn't just check himself into a motel or throw himself off a bridge. He needed to die "of his illness" to tick all the boxes and that needed help.

Now disclaimer: I get why suicide and attempted suicide remain against the law. If there is a crime in progress then it means emergency services can force entry into a locked property. In an ideal society it would not result in any charges being pressed against the person who felt that it was their only option and they would get the help that they need.

Anyone helping them? That's the legal minefield and I am not getting into the moral rights and wrongs of that. All opinions are valid on that and I'm not about to launch into a debate on that. This isn't what that ask is about.

What Owen did, regardless of the reasons for doing it, was illegal. He assisted in the suicide of someone, did not do anything to intervene, and then covered it up by removing evidence after the event. That's prison time as the State of Texas has that on the same level as murder.

(Damn, the trigger warnings on this are plentiful. If I missed something let me know.)