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hermannsthumb · 4 years ago

Note

Lo and behold, HERMANN is the one with a long list of hunky ex-boyfriends (and it drives Newt a little nuts)

a req sent in by @k-sci-janitor and filled TIMELY ENOUGH on their BIRTHDAYYYYY 🎉🎉🎉🎉 s/out to them for discussing this fic concept w me months ago and also today 👀

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It’s a relief to find out Hermann is gay. It’s not even because of Newt’s weird, repressed feelings for the guy—though he admits it’s equally a relief to know that he’s not barking up the wrong tree entirely. The thing is that Newt’s really not sure what he would do if Hermann wasn’t. Hermann has the distinct honor (displeasure?) of being Newt’s only friend in the Shatterdome, after all; this means aside from usual friendship duties (sitting with Newt at lunch, listening to him complain about his day, allowing himself to be dragged along to bars and movie theaters when they finally have a second to breathe), he’s also the person Newt goes to with tales of his romantic conquests (not that he has any), requests for dating advice (not that Hermann has any), and reassurances that whoever Newt has his eyes on that week is hot enough for him (could they ever be?). It’s just, like, easier to do that kinda shit with someone who would also be (hypothetically) eyeing up and dating dudes, if Hermann ever managed to take the stick out his ass and relax long enough to do stuff like that.

Hell, Newt would be first in line if he ever did. As it is, he just has to settle on knocking knees with Hermann under the mess tables and—for lack of a better phrase—checking the latest batch of ranger hopefuls out. Newt doesn’t normally go for the tall, built, and athletic type, but Shatterdome transfers are usually the only way he can score a date, because all the seasoned personnel know to avoid the weirdo biologist in the basement by this point. There’s a war on; desperate times call for desperate measures. Newt hopes at least a handful of them are desperate.

“He’s kinda hot, don’t you think?” Newt says under his breath to Hermann. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at one of the new ranger trainees in line for soup behind them. He has dark hair and a nice smile, and—more importantly—Newt’s sure he’s been making eyes at their table for the better part of five minutes. He’s one of the latest batch that has only just arrived two weeks prior, and the smallest batch by far. Not many people are enlisting in the PPDC these days. Bad for the state of the world and Newt’s libido.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

“The guy behind us,” Newt says. “No, don’t be obvious about it—”

But Hermann turns, conspicuously, so (deciding it can’t get any more awkward than it already is) Newt sighs and turns with him. The dark-haired ranger notices: his smile hitches up an extra centimeter, and he winks.

At once Newt feels his ego swell. He winks back. “Still got it, dude,” he crows to Hermann, and is just rising from his chair to swoop into action when he realizes something; the ranger was not making eye contact with Newt. He was—and is—making eye contact with Hermann.

Hermann scoffs. “Oh, please,” he mutters to Newt. “If he thinks that’ll get him invited over again—”

But the ranger is abandoning his spot in line and jogging towards them, smoothing down his hair as he goes. He’s brimming with a palpable mixture of excitement and anxiety. “Hey, Dr. Gottlieb,” he says. “So, uh, last week was pretty fun?” It’s an invitation for approval, one which Hermann ignores in favor of jerking his shoulders noncommittally. The ranger presses on anyway. “It’s cool to see you. Haha. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you have my email, in case you want to get together again.”

“I have it,” Hermann says.

An awkward tension settles between them. Newt clears his throat in hopes of diffusing it, and the ranger’s eyes dart over to him. “I’m Newt,” Newt says. “Hermann and I work together.”

“Cool,” the ranger says. Disinterested. “Anyway, Dr. Gottlieb, I’m free whenever, so?”

“Yes, I’ll certainly email you,” Hermann says. He picks up his dinner roll and begins to spread butter over it, not bothering to look up when he adds “Lovely to see you again.”

The guy nods, and hurries back over to his friends, who begin debating something with him in hushed voices. Twice the group glances back at Hermann. Hermann’s—uh—friend seems to be blushing. Hermann begins to butter the other half of his dinner roll. “What the hell was that about?” Newt says.

Hermann sets down his roll and furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“That,” Newt says. “Who was that guy?”

“Oh,” Hermann says. “Him.” He rolls his eyes, and to Newt’s alarm goes pink in the cheeks. “We had a, ah, a date, I suppose you could call it, last week. He turned out to be a bit rude, actually, not the very, er, courteous sort. Attentive. Or at least not as courteous as I like. You know.”

“I don’t,” Newt says.

“You know,” Hermann repeats, with more force on the know. His pink blush spreads down his neck. “In the—coupling—sense.”

“You hooked up with him?” Newt says, too loud. A few heads swivel in their direction, including Hermann’s quote-unquote date and his friends; Hermann whacks Newt in the shin with his cane, clearly mortified.

“Keep your voice down! I don’t want the whole bloody Shatterdome to know, do I?” Hermann hisses. “Yes, I had sex with him. I do occasionally take time to enjoy myself.”

Newt stares at Hermann in amazement. Hermann hooks up? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys and then ghosts them? “I didn’t know,” Newt says. “That you…did that.” Months and months of talking about his shitty love life to Hermann and Hermann has never once bothered to volunteer information of his own. Newt always just assumed Hermann had put his emotional (and physical) needs on hold for the sake of the war. Apparently not.

“You never asked,” Hermann says. “Is it important?”

Yes, it is. Newt shakes his head. The rest of their dinner is quiet and without any further interruptions. It’s also without their usual bickering, though, which makes it feel oddly lonely, and when Newt gets back to his bunk that night, he can’t help but wonder what else he hasn’t discovered about Hermann yet. Or, really—what about Hermann’s love life he hasn’t discovered yet.

A bouquet of flowers arrives for Hermann at the lab a week later. Newt is the one to take the delivery, Hermann being too absorbed in his calculations and boring graphs, and also because Newt is harboring a secret hope they’re for himself from a secret admirer. No such luck. To Dr. Gottlieb, the heart-shaped label proclaims in pink cursive, and a few sentences of the sappiest attempt at poetry Newt’s ever seen follows. Love, Pedro. Newt smirks through a suffocating wave of jealousy, whether to be the one giving or getting the flowers he’s not sure. “Hey, Hermann,” he calls across the lab. “Your boyfriend getting persistent. Want me to stick these in water for you?”

Hermann grumbles something, then says “Boyfriend?”

“From the mess the other night,” Newt says. “The uncourteous one.” Newt double-checks the note. “Pedro. His heart is yearning for you, Hermann. Listen to this—”

But Hermann scoffs loudly before Newt can even start on the poem. “Don’t be daft,” he says. “That wasn’t Pedro. That was Jason.” He scribbles over something on his chalkboard and starts again on the line below it. “And Pedro is hardly my boyfriend—it was only dinner.”

“Dinner?” Newt squeaks.

“And drinks,” Hermann says.

“You’re seeing another guy?” Newt says.

Hermann finally turns around. “Does it matter if I am?” he says.

“Yes,” Newt says. “No? I don’t know?”

“I’m a grown man, Newton,” Hermann says. “I date. You ought to try it yourself—it does wonders for the nerves.” When Newt is clearly still unsatisfied, Hermann sighs. “I met Pedro on an errand to LOCCENT last month, and I found him charming. You’d recognize him—you actually, er, caught us in a bit of a compromising position the other night. Remember?”

Newt frowns. He hasn’t caught Hermann with anyway in any compromising situations recently—the only thing he can think of that could be considered remotely embarrassing is when he stepped out into the hallway the same time Hermann’s physical therapist did, and they ended up bumping into each other. But that was—oh, God, Newt’s an idiot. “That was him?” Newt says. He just assumed anyone stopping by Hermann’s room after work hours would be there for physical therapy, okay? And there had been a lot of…noise. Well, he’s not going to think about that now. “But he was so hot! Do you only date, like, hunks or something?”

“Really, Newton,” Hermann says. “You’re making yourself upset over nothing.” The corner of his mouth twitches up. “Though one of my old ex-boyfriends did become an underwear model…”

“Dude,” Newt says, and before he can help himself, blurts out “Shit, maybe I should start going to the gym.”

Hermann gives him a strange, searching look, and Newt immediately clamps his mouth shut in horror. He’s really gotta start working on his brain-to-mouth filter. Or at least work on not sticking his fucking foot in it every five minutes. “As I said,” Hermann says, cryptically, and turns away (apparently satisfied with whatever he saw in Newt), “you’re making yourself upset over nothing. I hardly find the need to limit myself to ‘hunks’.”

“Uh,” Newt says. “Right.”

Whatever that means.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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shiredded · 3 years ago

Text

Random wildfire evacuation tips from california

Fire far away, or it's just fire season

Pack your Emergency kit Important documents, water, etc. Google what you should put in yours. There's a lot of resources.

Plan where to go It's gonna SUCK if you're scrambling to figure out who can take you in when there's only a few hours to pack. A friend is ideal but hotels will work too. If they're decent places they will only have a minimal fee for fire victims. Make sure your destination is pet friendly if you have those. Some hotels will make exceptions, call them.

Microchip your pets You should do this anyway but you could lose your pet while 50 miles away from home and this will help it find you again. They'll be scared and confused in a new neighborhood.

Find a reliable source of information Check to see if your county website or fire/police department has a place for updates. You want accurate information from the source, not from a neighbor or a stranger.

Eat all the icecream Depending on the evacuation, You will want to empty your fridge and freezer, so the weeks leading up to this are perfect for clearing out those tater tots

Keep your gas tanks full You never know when you'll have to drive several miles to find an open gas station.

Fire preparedness on your property Another thing to look up in more detail, they will give you measurements on clearing brush/branches etc. Sometimes this is the difference between a kind of smoky house and literal ashes.

Safety gear This will get scarce the closer a fire comes. You need N95 masks/respirators. Your covid masks will not filter smoke. Only take as much as you need to evacuate, because other agencies (like livestock evacuators) need them more.

Evacuation Warning

This means you MIGHT get evacuation orders, but not yet Make sure you know what the terms mean for your local district. This period can last hours or weeks, depending on the fire.

ONLY trust official information sources If a stranger runs up to your house and tells you that it's a mandatory evacuation and they're here to help, don't trust them. Watch them every second if you let them help and don't turn your back. They may rob you as soon as you hand them your valuable keepsakes.

Double check your destination Call your friend/hotel/etc to make sure they still have room for you.

Start packing Grab your dirty laundry basket: its all clothes you like/have worn recently and you can wash it later. You really only need a few hours to pack and evacuation warnings can last weeks, so it's more identifying what you should pack and starting on the more time consuming bits now.

Only pack what can't be replaced heirlooms, hobby items, artwork, photographs, etc. You can buy a new TV I promise. If you have fire insurance they will help pay for that.

Find your pets and livestock Bring your pets into the house and know where their supplies/carriers are. There may be organizations in your area that specialize in evacuating your livestock, so look those up.

Lock up for looters A horrific problem, but that's the reality. You won't be around to watch your property so looters will go around trying doors so they can steal from people in crisis. This is the main reason that law enforcement will/should be in the area. Plan to take expensive equipment inside, like table saws, motor/bikes, generators etc, and lock them up. Whatever is outside is easy pickings. If you leave any vehicles, lock them, even in the woods where everyone is kind and safe. The looters are not your neighbors, they will drive in from out of town to rob and vandalize evacuated places.

Check on your neighbors Especially elderly neighbors who may not be tuned in to what's happening or not taking it seriously. Fundamentalist religious people tend to be difficult. Make a note if you think someone is going to sit on their porch with a rifle instead of leaving.

Request help Get help if you need it from neighbors or community resources. If you don't have a car, don't worry. Someone somewhere has one and they truly do want to help you. Get everyone's names and contact information so you can keep track of each other. Social media is generally where this stuff tends to happen, so dust that off and see what you can do.

Mandatory Evacuation

All that planning pays off You will likely have a few hours to pack, but depending on the fire you can have just minutes or seconds before they pull you from your house. Evacuation orders usually have a "get out by" time on them.

Children and pets Find these and get them ready to go first. Do not let them wander off because you don't want to be scrambling for them later. Cats in carriers, dogs in a room or pen. Other animals in appropriate travel gear. Keep them indoors until everyone is ready for the car, because smoke can hurt/kill them (birds are especially sensitive)

Most important stuff first This is your emergency kit. Medication is extremely important. Harddrives, photos, documents, computers, etc, all goes in first. Next is clothes and toiletries. They'll make your evacuation less chaotic. Then valuables like jewelry, cameras, stuff that would be hard to replace. At this point your car should be pretty full.

Empty the fridge If you are evacuated for weeks and the power goes out, you do not want to know what happens in there. Throw it all in a garbage bag and put it outside. It's better to discard food now than discard your whole fridge later (they cannot be saved, trust me)

Check on your neighbors again If someone refuses to leave, let law enforcement know so they can handle it. They will either convince the person or make a note of their location for firefighters to worry about if the fire gets too close.

Lock every door and window you can Bring valuable outside stuff indoors and lock it down. This will deter looters looking for an easy target. Lock your cars, sheds, barns, etc.

Do not go back Law enforcement will be controlling the road during an evacuation. They might let you go back for forgotten things, or they might stop you completely. If you left a pet, they will notify the pet rescue teams (generally trained and certified volunteers) Basically assume you can't go back until the order is over.

Evacuated

Uncertainty Hunker down and prepare for a fight. Being evacuated can last between a day and several months (if your town got half burned, etc) Know ahead of time that you won't know much.

Official sources of information may be wrong The fire map sometimes reads smoke and might tell you your house is toast when it's not. Eyewitness reports are more trustworthy at this point. But know that you might not know anything for certain for a long, long time.

Seek out resources There will be food, supplies, and housing opened up for evacuees, depending on your community. Look up your area and take advantage of what applies to you.

Looters will follow you People will stalk fire victims and break into their cars and take everything they own. This can happen a hundred miles away from the fire, so keep your car in your sights if you can. Hotel parking lots are especially dangerous, so ask if security can patrol that area extra vigilantly. Sadly, robbers will also drive through tiny rural neighborhoods looking for an unusual amount of cars and will rob those. Take your MOST valuable things into the house/hotel room etc to keep them safe.

Your mental health Everything is going to suffer during an evacuation, so make sure you're doing selfcare to keep yourself ready for new challenges. Take time to cry and scream and kick rocks. Connect with other fire victims and you can emotionally support each other.

Going home Most evacuations are precautions, and everything will be fine when you get back. It's going to be a pain to unpack all that stuff again, but it would have been worth it if you lost your home.

Do it all again next year The climate crisis is bringing drought, plant-drying heat, and dry lightning storms to places we all thought were safe. Fires are hard to control, but your evacuation isn't. You'll be alright, and eventually rain will come. It gets easier every year and it really helps you identify what you value in life.

Help others If you're in no dangers, search up where to volunteer to help fire victims. Maybe you'll train as an evacuation response team and go into fire zones to rescue animals! Maybe you'll help out at a soup kitchen. Maybe you'll open your home to strangers who need a place to stay. Be the human kindness you'll need for yourself one day.

TLDR: The more you plan, the better. Round up kids and pets first. Lock all your doors because looters will rob you, or follow your car and rob that. Connect with your community to give and receive help.

#fire #wildfire #evacuation #fire evacuation #evacuation tips #fire season #shire screams

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breelandwalker · 4 years ago

Note

Do you know spells for justice or protection for other people? Like the protesters?

I know a few, but it’s difficult to pick one exactly. Here’s everything I could find in my personal spellbook that I thought might be applicable.

Ninja Dust

Intent: To enable a person to make a quick unseen exit or go unnoticed; formulated to work in crowded places.

Ingredients:

1 pt White Oak

1 pt Bloodroot

1 pt Black Salt

1 pt Red Poppy

1 pt Mustard

1/2 pt Rosemary

1/2 pt Sage

1/2 pt Clove

1/2 pt Willow Bark

Optional:

Pinch of Galangal Root

Pinch of Heather Blossom

Pinch of Devil's Shoestring

Pinch of Black Cohosh

This powder was prepared for a friend of mine the night before she attended a large-scale protest march. It's meant to help you stay safe in a crowded situations and affect a quick exit when and if you have to.

Sprinkle a pinch or two on your shoes before you go out, or carry a small vial or packet with you. If you find yourself in a situation where you need to leave quickly, toss down the powder and step on it as you leave.

Of course, this should always go along with whatever practical safety measures are deemed prudent for your situation. If you find yourself in a position where you are in immediate physical danger, forget the powder, just get to safety however you can. Be careful out there!

Liza Hempstock’s Invisibility Charm

Inspired by The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman.

Use this charm when you want to pass unseen and unremarked in a crowd or need to escape a situation without being noticed.

Put a pinch of poppy seeds in your shoe or carry a packet of them in your pocket. When you need to make a quick exit, turn three times, spit over your left shoulder, and whisper:

Be hole, be dust, be dream, be wind Be night, be dark, be wish, be mind, Now slip, now slide, now move unseen, Above, beneath, betwixt, between

Gather yourself together, find your exit, and GO.

No Fear Here

To help dispel fear, ward off danger, and promote bravery. This blend is meant for a home ornament witchball, but it can also be put into a sachet or a bottle charm if mobile magic is needed.

Agrimony

Yarrow

Black Pepper

Thyme

Jasmine

Black Tea Leaves

Walking Ward Protection Oil

For personal warding spells of all kinds

Sweet Basil

Witch Hazel

Fennel Sprigs

Mix the herbs in equal parts and soak 1 tbsp of the blend in 1-2 cups of bland oil for about a week to make the infusion. Strain and bottle the oil. If desired, add a couple of drops of Basil or Rosemary essential oil.

Short Notice Travel Protection Charm

If you're called to make an unexpected trip and don't have time to prepare a full-sized bottle charm, making a braid or knot-string out of white yarn or string. As you tie it, say seven times over:

By water and fire, by sky and by stone, This charm will see me brought safely back home.

Tie the string around your wrist or ankle for the duration of the trip. You can remove it when you return home or let it fall off on its' own.

"Bibbity Bobbity Back Off" Banishing Spell

This spell grew out of a quip that I made in response to some hate mail that came my way. Some weeks of experimenting with word-activated protection magics later, this is what I came up with.

Intent: To repel or banish harmful things that attempt to accost you.

Materials:

Piece of Personal Jewelry

Small Jar with Flat Lid

Tealight Candle

Herbs: Angelica Root, Peppermint, Marjoram, Willow Bark

Make a potpourri blend out of the herbs and place it in the jar. For extra potency, spit in the jar. Place the piece of jewelry in the jar, close the lid, and shake gently. Set the jar somewhere level and safe, set the tealight on top of the lid, and burn it for a few minutes.

Focus on the flame of the tealight and chant, as many times as you feel you need to:

I cannot be snared, I cannot be caught However you try, no harm is wrought

When you've finished, blow out the candle. Wait for the candle cup and the lid to cool before opening the jar. Retrieve the jewelry and wear it when you need a little extra protection.

Should you need to activate the protection, simply breathe on your fingers, touch the charmed object, and whisper, "Invictus." (Latin, pron. in-VIK-toos; “invincible.”) The charm will last until you remove the piece and breathe on it again. You'll need to return it to the jar of herbs to recharge within 24 hours of use, or you'll have to cast the charm all over again. For best results, I recommend changing the herbs in the jar between charges.

This is a short-term heavy-duty banishing spell. It can't ensure physical safety, but it can help keep you safe from emotional and mental attack, and may provide an opportunity for escape if one is needed. It may also diffuse aggressive outside energy long enough for you to make a prudently-timed getaway if a confrontation seems imminent.

"Not On My Watch" Vinegar

Intent: An all-purpose preventative potion for use in protective and binding spells.

Ingredients:

Jar with Tight-fitting Lid

2 cups Vinegar

Coffee Filter

Funnel

Bottle for Storage

Knife and Cutting Board

Fresh Ginger or Horseradish Root

Peppermint Essential Oil

Herbs: Bay Leaves, Coriander, Lemon Peel, Cedar Tips, Pine Needles, Witch Hazel, Clover Leaves

This is a heavy-duty protective vinegar that I created in a fit of rage. If the ingredient list seems excessive, it's because I was angry enough about the situation to basically throw the book at it. I've used it a few times since then and it's been very effective.

To make this potion, you'll need a jar with a tight-fitting lid. A large brand-new mason jar is best for this. For some other spells and potions, you can use recycled food jars, but for this one, you want a fresh jar with no chance of leftover food particles.

First, clean your piece of ginger or horseradish root. For best results, you'll want a fresh root, not dried pieces, as you want the juice and oils to blend with the vinegar. Cut several slices from the root and place them in the mason jar. Wash and dry the knife before continuing.

Note: Fresh horseradish root has a very strong peppery-sour smell, and can produce fumes like onions do. The fumes may cause your nose to run and may irritate your eyes. (It's a great way to clear the sinuses though.) If you are sensitive to such things, you may want to wear a surgical mask and goggles, or just use ginger root instead.

To help your herbs fit more easily into the jar, you may want to carefully dice them into smaller, more manageable pieces. You can work with fresh or dried herbs for this potion, whichever works best with your available supplies. If you want additional aromatic qualities in your potion, I recommend using fresh Lemon Peel, Cedar Tips, and Pine Needles if possible. It adds a nice fresh, clean scent, a little bit like a certain name-brand floor cleaner, but less chemical. Using fresh versions of these ingredients will also help to cut the vinegar smell to a certain degree. But again, if you only have dried herbs, that will work just as well.

Dried or fresh, you'll need approximately 2 ½ ounces of chopped herbs altogether. That's about five tablespoons or 71 grams of herbs. Mix them together and add them to the jar. If you've used fresh herbs, you'll need to dry or discard any leftovers. If you used only dried herbs, put any extra mix into a container for future use. Waste not, want not.

Add two cups of vinegar to the jar. I used white vinegar, but cider vinegar or wine vinegar will do as well. Use whatever you have available. White vinegar may be less expensive, if you need to purchase a fresh bottle. Add 2-3 drops of Peppermint essential oil, close the lid tightly, and give the jar a good shake.

Leave the vinegar jar in a warm, dry place to steep for three full days. Strain the resulting liquid into a clean bottle using a funnel and coffee filter, and discard the herbs. The mason jar can be used again after it has been thoroughly cleaned and dried.

Use the potion in home protection magics, particularly if you need to repel unsavory persons, "accidents" which are not at all accidental, or harmful magics. It can also be an additive in spells meant to make the home a sanctuary for those who need it. Add a small amount to your washwater when you clean hard floors or your doorstep for additional protection. Splash a little on your front door or at your property line to discourage trespassers.

(I’m sure this could be put to use for keeping yourself safe during protests, keeping cops away from your home, blessing marchers and venues, and so forth.)

I’ll try and search up my post with magical measures for justice as well.

Hope this helps!

#halethebop #witchcraft #witchcraft activism #protection magic #Bree answers your inquiries

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 17: Royality

@tsshipmonth2020 (does this still count so late?)

What’s that? Ly creating content? Unbelievable. (I have writer’s block, leave me alooone /j)

Thanks to @marshymoop for suggestions and encouragment when making this bad boy! Love ya <3

Day 17 - Everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural color the other is your soulmate’s natural color. Once you meet all eyes return to natural color.

Content warnings: food/drink mention, alcohol, mentions of hangover, vampires, referring to drinking blood as “eating”, non-explicit blood drinking, being chased.

Word count: 6.9k

THE CITY OF DEWMORE WELCOMES YOU

Patton tapped his fingers on the steering wheel excitedly, nearly vibrating as he passed the weathered sign. Beyond it, beckoning him forward, stood a forest more densely packed and darker than he’d ever had the pleasure of exploring, the achingly tall pine trees swaying minutely in the breeze, their tips barely visible through the blanket of fog. Just imagining what could be held within those depths made his leg bounce; forgotten, moss-drenched stone paths, broken stumps of fallen trees that hadn’t made a sound upon impact, patches of mushrooms scattered in the shadows, and whispering creeks. It was the perfect way to spend his spring break, and one his photography teacher had wholeheartedly encouraged him to take. If he hadn’t had so many midterms to mark, Patton was almost sure the man would have tried to join him.

Almost an anxious tic at this point, he ran his free hand over the photography bag in his passenger seat, as if to make sure it hadn’t disappeared in the three minutes since he’d last checked. The thing was his prized possession, given to him by the very same photography professor at his university. It had been the elder’s own, before he got his newest camera, and gifted the whole set to his favorite (but don’t tell the others) students. It was full of perfectly kept lenses and two miniature tripods, extra batteries and memory cards, speedlights, and most importantly, the camera tucked safely into the biggest pouch. It was more expensive than Patton would ever have dreamt to buy, so it was truly a gift he’d never forget. Now it was up to him to finally take some shots worthy of the thing.

The forests continued to grow denser and thicker until, in almost a shocking snap, they disappeared to reveal a quaint city that he hadn’t quite expected. The first few buildings he passed looked like they may have stood there for hundreds of years, weather worn and faded. Their signs were either scratched to nothingness or blaringly new, shining metal names standing out against an ancient backdrop. He was looking for a motel, figuring there had to be one, even in a town of less than two thousand people. His backup plan was to just sleep in his car. He’d brought his sleeping back and extra blankets, so it wasn’t a huge concern, but he’d still prefer a bed. But whenever he’d tried finding anything online, he’d come up blank.

A fog still covered the town, and though it created an air of calm and mystery that Patton was itching to capture, he also knew the area was surrounded by towering mountains that he also desired so badly. To his right, the buildings stopped abruptly, revealing a grey beach, all rocks and no sand, criss crossed with logs, opening to a dark lake. The other side wasn’t visible through the mist.

The further he drove, he realized the buildings weren’t improving in their modernity, just giving way to more and more old infrastructure. One stood out, a grocery store, it’s lights piercing through the evening dim. Patton didn’t get a look inside before he passed, once again surrounded antique houses and shops, a post office to his left, and a tavern just across from that. A sign above the door read “Vacancy” in peeling white letters, and that was all the enticing Patton needed to pull his car into the gravel parking lot in front of the building. There was only one other vehicle there, a matte red pickup truck that he parked next to, and what appeared to only be three more parking spots. From the high placed windows, a soft orange light bled, and a round of raucous laughter filtered through the cracked open door. Patton smiled. The photographer inside him was going to have a field day here.

He stepped up the concrete steps and ruffled his hair with one hand so it covered his eye, heaving a sigh in hopes to calm his nervous butterflies, and pulled the door open.

All at once, the chatter inside died, and Patton internally shrank as every face in the tavern turned to look at the newcomer. There was a moment of tense silence as he tried his best for a smile and met the gaze of the men scrutinizing him, drinks forgotten on high wooden tables, jubilance halted. Patton waited with baited breath, for someone to do something, why were they all just staring, when a voice spoke from behind the bar.

“Don’t worry about them, sweetheart. We don’t get a lot of new people around here.”

And the lull was broken as suddenly as it started, the men now ignoring him in favor of joking over mugs of fizzing ale. Patton swallowed thickly and turned to the voice, shoving his quivering hands into his pockets and shaking his head again to assure the curls were safely covering his eye. As usual.

The man standing before him, leaning on the bar with an easy smile, was almost enough to take Patton’s breath away. If he were a religious man, he’d go so far as to call him heavenly. Eyes as dark as the depths of the surrounding forests, auburn hair pushed back from his face in what he could only think to describe as an intentional bedhead. His skin was too flawless, teeth just a couple shades too white, everything perfect in a way that was almost…

Patton couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What can I get you, newbie?”

“Uhm-” Patton took a cleansing breath and sat at one of the barstools, all of them empty seeing as the crowd seemed more drawn to the tables in the center of the room, “I don’t come to bars that often. I don’t know.”

The bartender hummed, pushing up his already rolled up white sleeves and giving Patton a once over, almost investigating him. “You drink?”

“I… I guess.”

“Been on the road for a while, tired?”

“Do I look that exhausted?” Patton breathed a laugh, suddenly aching to pop his spine. He’d been driving since before dawn for the past three days, barely hunkering down for a decent sleep before he was off again. He’d been really excited to get here, plus he didn’t want to waste more of his meager break driving.

“I got just what you need, darling.” With a wink, the bartender straightened up and pulled down a series of bottles, cracking his knuckles with flourish before measuring them into a silver canister. “So what brings you to Dewmore?”

“I’m a photographer,” Patton said, “Or, a photography student. Down in Florida.”

The man whistled as he shoveled ice cubes into the mix, “Long drive for some pictures.”

“I’m… dedicated,” Patton laughed, scratching at his neck nervously. “My prof recommended it, said it might be a nice place to spend my break.”

“I assume you’re looking for a place to stay then, as well?” He plopped a cap on the canister and began to shake it above his shoulder, grinning widely, “These guys are always just like, ‘Gimme a beer’ this, ‘Gimme a beer’ that. It’s great to actually make fun drinks again.” With hands flying too fast for Patton to process, he grabbed a glass, popped the lid of the shaker, and poured the deep orange drink, tossing on a green sprig and sliding the drink over. “Enjoy.”

Patton took a cautious sip of the drink and had to fight not to sigh, the refreshing taste a welcome relief after three days of gas station Gatorade and hotel sink water. He could barely taste any alcohol, more focused on the ice cold sweet tartness at the back of his tongue. The bartender looked pleased, huffing a satisfied laugh and beginning to put away his bottles. He was taking another sip, satisfied with the backdrop of joyous chatter and clinking glasses, when he remembered why he’d come in.

“Yes, I am. Uhm, looking for a place to stay, that is.”

The bartender looked at him over his shoulder, “We haven’t had visitors in… a while, at least. You’ve pretty much got your pick of the rooms.”

“Do you have anything facing the water?” He took another sip, the photo possibilities already flowing through his mind. One through the window, just far back enough to catch the flow of the curtains and the chipped wood of the window ledge, a monochromatic lakeshore in the bottom third, a barely visible mountain looming ahead…

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Let me just finish this up, and I’ll get you on the ledger.”

“Patton.” He downed the rest of the drink and rested his elbow on the counter, chin in his palm, an easy smile playing on his lips.

“Hm?”

“My name’s Patton.”

“I’m Roman.” Tossing the towel over his shoulder, Roman gave him another wink before disappearing into the back room, coming back moments later with a thick black book. He was already thumbing through the pages, finally landing on the one he wanted, and spun a pen between his fingers.

“What’s your last name, sweetheart?”

Patton spelled it out for him, and was surprised when the man clapped the book shut after the final letter. “That’s all you need?”

“Yup.”

“No… ID, or anything?” It was at that moment when it occurred to Patton that, although he was legal, his baby face often prompted bouncers and servers back home to ask for identification. Roman hadn’t even blinked before serving him.

“Got anything to hide?”

“Uhm… no, I-”

“Good enough for me. It’s not like we’re a high traffic tourist spot. I don’t think we’ve had anyone take a room in, like, two years, and who knows how many before that. Frankly, I wouldn’t care if you were on the run for murder. Don’t kill me, and we’re solid.”

Patton blanched, unable to tell if the man was being sarcastic. Finally his expression cracked into a smirk and he brandished a key towards Patton, dangling it by the ring. “I’m messing with you. I mean, don’t kill me, that’s legit. Here you go, cutie. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he sashayed away with a tray of beers (when on Earth had he filled those?), and the men whooped loudly, startling Patton.

“Easy, boys,” Roman purred, beginning to round the tables, and Patton hopped off the bar stool to get his things from his car. He couldn’t wait to pass out in bed with the knowledge that he could sleep in however late he wanted.

-0-0-0-

But apparently sleep didn’t have the same ideas as him, because even after he was in comfortable clothes and tucked into the covers, he continued to toss and turn. Maybe it was the concept of being alone in a strange town, or the full moon shining through the thin curtains, or just plain excitement, but he suddenly felt wider awake then he had since he started this trip.

There was a soft rattling somewhere across the room and, with begrudging acceptance that he wasn’t going to sleep any time soon, fumbled his glasses on to search for the offending sound. With a grumble, he threw off the blankets and padded across the room to the window and tossed back the curtains, giving the moon a scalding glare for shining so darn brightly. It was the window, fitted loosely in its frame, being shook by the gentle wind that was causing the noise. Patton gave it an experimental tug, followed by a more forceful yank, and found it didn’t budge down at all. Instead, it continued to rattle mockingly, in what sounded almost like whispered giggles as he crossed his arms across his chest.

Fine. He turned his attention to the scenic view before him, letting out a minute shudder as a small gust of wind blew through his thin pajama shirt. Moonlit waves crashed against the rocky shore, tossing up silver spray against the dark backdrop of the forest. Patton took a breath, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace just staring at the silent town, the stone spires rising above the forest-

Wait, what?

Patton blinked sharply a couple times, leaning forward until his nose bumped the window and squinting through the glass. Those… things... definitely looked like manmade objects- the shape made it impossible for them to be natural- but you’d think he’d remember something that looked like a castle directly outside his window. In fact, he’d spent a significant amount of time upon first entering the room just admiring the view, and a castle one hundred percent would have been on his radar. Oh, if the thing was abandoned, imagine the photo opportunities, and even if it wasn’t he could totally just get some of the outside-

Yeah, there was no way he was sleeping now.

Before he’d even processed what he was doing, he’d slipped out of his pajamas and hurriedly pulled on the outfit he’d laid out on the desk chair, because there was no way he was digging through his suitcase to scrounge out more clothes. He threw a beige sweater over his white shirt, however, remembering the chill the night had brought and, after he’d adequate tucked them into his slacks, he threw his camera bag over his shoulder and trotted down the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, the first floor tavern was empty of all customers, overhead lights traded for softer electric lamps on the walls and the illuminated sign above the bar, where Roman was wiping down the counter, seemingly unbothered by the late hour.

“Can’t sleep, sweetheart?” The bartender called out without turning around, tossing his rag across the counter and into a full soapy bucket behind the bar.

“Uh, yeah, something like that,” Patton responded, shaking his bangs so they covered his eye. “I think I’m just too excited to start getting shots.”

“Mmm, you and me both.” He waggled his eyebrows and pulled a bottle of what looked like whiskey off the shelf. “What’s your poison?”

Patton snorted but shook his head, patting his camera bag, “I want to go out, and it’s probably not smart to drink before going out in a strange town at night.”

Roman shrugged before pouring himself a shot and downing it in one smooth motion.

“You’re allowed to drink on the job?”

The bartender hummed, replacing the bottle and locking the cabinet presumably for the night, “Once my tavern is empty, I consider myself off the clock. And I’m my own boss, so I hereby give myself the night off. I have a coffee machine in the back room, one of those Keurigs, if you want something fancy. Hasn’t been used in ages, but I’m sure if you wanted something, I-”

“No, it’s okay. Really.” Patton ducked his head and messed with his shirt, making sure the white collar stood above the neck of his sweater. He made his way over to the bar and took the same stool as before, leaning on the counter as Roman dumped out the dirty cleaning water into the sink. The clock above the bar, barely illuminated enough to see, revealed it was just after midnight. “Are there any old structures, like churches or anything, in the forest?”

Roman tilted his head, giving Patton a look over his shoulder he couldn’t quite understand.

“There’s nothing there besides wolves and ticks, sweetheart,” he said slowly with an almost condescending smile, “Why? Hoping the little town in the middle of nowhere has a mystery?” He rinsed out the bucket and placed it in the cabinet under the sink.

Patton shrugged, scratching at his temple, “I saw something outside of my window.”

“Like a tree?” The rag was rinsed as well and draped over the faucet.

“No, definitely not.” He tried not to feel too offended that Roman was clearly teasing him, but he was certain what he’d seen hadn’t been a tree. They were too tall, too angular, and too symmetrically placed for that.

“Pattycake, I grew up hunting with my dad and partying in those woods, and I would know if something were there.”

“Are you sure?” Patton implored, “There’s definitely something man made, could it be, like, an old castle, or something?”

There was a moment of silence between the two as Roman continued to look at Patton like he was crazy, the barest hints of an impish grin tugging at his lips, before he sucked in a sharp breath; as if he realized something.

On a dime, Roman’s expression contorted into one of anger, eyes alight with fury as he leaned into Patton’s space. As he spoke, his voice almost reverberated, like a choir speaking in unison.

“There is nothing in those woods, Patton. Understand? Don’t go wandering into places you don’t belong, or you won’t like what you find.”

Patton reared back from the forceful words, hand coming up subconsciously to readjust the hair on his face. Roman leaned just a tad closer, growling out a warning, “Got it, sweetheart?” The electric lamps on the walls, once creating such a homey, soft environment, suddenly flickered and Patton flinched, whipping around to face the large room as it seemed to strobe under the malfunctioning lights. Goosebumps spread across his arms as the flashing grew faster and his hand clamped over the back of his neck when a shiver raced up his spine.

“What’s going on? Why are-”

And then the lights went out completely, an eerie quiet settling over the tavern. Roman was silent. Was he even still in the room? Could he have left so quickly? The only sound in the empty room were Patton’s shaky breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, as he fought down a scream. He wasn’t a fan of the dark.

A single street light barely shone through the window, too dim to even light up the tables near the glass, and Patton turned to focus on it. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In… out… in… out-

A silhouette appeared in the window.

The lights were back to their original gleam before he could even open his mouth to scream, filling the room with a dull hum as if nothing had even happened. Blinking rapidly, Patton took a calming breath (it’s just old lights, it’s just old lights, relax) and swiveled back in his chair to find that Roman was smiling at him innocently, cleaning out a glass with a rag.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Didn’t you see that?” Patton asked incredulously.

“See what?” The bartender placed the glass into the last space in a row of them, giving Patton that same condescending grin as before.

Patton sighed and lifted his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly, shaking his head. “I think travelling for so long has me seeing things.” Careful as ever, in the same fashion he’d so masterfully perfected in elementary school, he shook his head to cover his eye- his stupid, left, ‘soulmate’ eye- before removing his hands and letting his glasses fall back into place.

Other kids won’t like it, sweetie. I don’t think the teachers will either.

I know you can’t help it, my love. If I could take this burden from you, I would. But this is yours to handle until… well, you know.

I don’t know why, Patton. You’ll find them someday. And then you’ll understand.

“Why do you do your hair like that?”

“Hmm?” Patton blinked.

Roman smirked, leaning casually on the counter in front of Patton, “Covering half of your face like that. You shouldn’t, you know. You’re a stunner.” With that, he reached forward, intent on moving that hair out of his face.

No.

“NO!” Patton yelled, stumbling off the barstool just as Roman’s hand made contact with his face. He ducked his head, roughly scraping his hair back in place with shaking hands, but the damage was done. A single cute guy compliments him and he forgets the habit he’s built up for years? How could he be so stupid-

“Everything alright? I’m sorry for scaring you, sweetheart.”

Was it possible he hadn’t seen it? Maybe Patton had moved fast enough, maybe the bartender had been too surprised to get a good look, maybe everything was fine. Roman didn’t seem horrified, or at all perturbed. Instead, he just looked… worried.

Either way, after that reaction, Patton was aching to be left alone to stew in his embarrassment. His rented room held nothing for him that he wanted, and sleep felt farther than ever, so his only choice was outside. The promises of a maybe-crumbling ancient building, illuminated by a full moon, were far more tempting than anything inside had to offer.

“Actually,” Patton said nervously, “A coffee would be great.”

Roman squinted at him, biting on the inside of his cheek before huffing a breathy laugh through his nose. “Alright, darling. Give me just a second to dust off the Keurig.”

The moment he disappeared behind the door to the backroom, Patton tightened his hold on the camera bag and sprinted from the tavern, into the grips of the cool night.

-0-0-0-

What would he say when he got back to the tavern? Would Roman make him leave the inn? Had he crossed a line he hadn’t known existed; would he have to cut his trip early because he couldn’t help his curiosity? Was bothering the only innkeeper in town really the smartest decision to make?

All wonderful questions that Patton wished he’d considered before running.

But if he did have to leave, and if this was his last night in this delightful and equally terrifying little town, he was going to make the most of it. At least, that’s what he’d thought he would do as he’d left the few city lights behind and treading deeper into the forest. He had a flashlight with him, thank goodness, so he wasn’t completely screwed, and he’d already gotten a few great shots. He stayed in the areas that the full moon could still shine through the trees, and some of the clouds had rolled away, so he was having the time of his life working with silhouettes against the star filled sky (thanks to the little to no light pollution Dewmore offered).

The more prominent thought in his mind, however, were the spires steadily growing closer above the treeline. He couldn’t understand what Roman had been talking about. How could anyone living in this town not see whatever he was walking towards?

(Admittedly, curiosity was also a huge reason he was chasing something he’d been warned to avoid. He’d never been that great at impulse control.)

It had to be nearly two in the morning when he came to an incline; a steep path constructed entirely of rocks fist-sized and larger. At the top, Patton could just barely see what looked to be the back of the castle, and he bounced slightly on his toes in excitement. He couldn’t tell from this distance the state it was in, or if it was possible anyone still lived there, but dang it if he wasn’t going to give it a go before he left. He’d walked all this way, after all.

The first few steps up the hill were the loudest thing he’d heard since he’d started his midnight adventure, and he cringed as they dropped away under his feet, knocking against each other as they fell to the ground.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Patton spun around, his flashlight slipping out of his hands. It rolled down between the rocks, casting split second light beams in every direction as it bounced towards the source of the voice, and stopped dead in the middle between the two of them. It settled on an indent created by Patton’s steps, aimed at the newcomer. Patton breathed a sigh of relief.

“Roman, goodness gracious! You scared the bejesus out of me,” Patton laid a hand on his chest and let out a huge gust of air. Roman didn’t move, and for the first time he noticed the absolute glare the bartender was giving him. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhm… sorry about the… leaving. Thing. Are you mad?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Well, apparently they weren’t going to talk about it. “Oh- I’m sorry, is this private property? I didn’t see any signs, I’m- Wait, but look, Roman! See, that’s what I was talking-”

“You. Shouldn’t. Be. Here.”

Patton blinked at the harshness in his words, taken aback. How was this the same easy going bartender that he’d met earlier tonight? Whatever was beyond this hill, though, Roman obviously wasn’t going to allow Patton to see. Maybe it was dangerous, or something? Either way, he couldn’t deny his disappointment. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’ll leave-”

“How did you get here?”

“I… um, walked?”

“No!” Roman hissed, finally stepping forward and plucking up the flashlight from the ground, “You shouldn’t be able to see the castle, or go near it, how the hell did you get here?!”

Before he could answer, the other man froze, whipping around as if he’d heard a noise from his left. And then Patton blinked, and Roman was in front of him, pulling him back down to solid ground. He dragged him by the arm to a fallen tree that was propped up against its own splintered stump, leaving it angled just a few feet off the ground.

“How did you- You were just over there, how-”

“Get down!”

“What?”

“Get. Down!” Roman shoved his shoulders and Patton had no choice but to collapse, blending into a pile of ferns beneath the bend of the tree. “Take off the backpack, put it in front of you. It blends in better than you do.” He yanked off the dark green camera bag as he spoke, situating it in front of Patton. “Don’t move, don’t make a sound, don’t fucking breathe, Patton, I swear.” The flashlight flicked off and thumped to the ground as Roman walked away, leaving him standing in the pale moonlight. Patton debated reaching for the flashlight, but that would mean exposing himself from the foliage he was tucked in and under, and Roman had seemed really scared.

There was a rustle in the underbrush in front of Roman, and the photographer shoved his fist into his mouth before he could gasp.

“Roman, it’s so nice to see you back home. It’s been far too long.”

“It’s been hardly a month, mother.”

The woman that emerged from the tree’s shadows wore a black cloak, nearly blending into the forest around her as the fabric swirled hypnotically by her ankles with each step. Silver embroidery made up the tight bodice and strung together the corset front, meeting at the bottom in an intricate knot and trailing almost down to the earth in two strands. How her intricate updo had stayed intact through a walk in the forest, Patton couldn’t understand.

However, if this was Roman’s mother, he did understand where he got his looks. The only word that came to his mind was ethereal; all smooth pale skin, those same impossibly dark eyes, red lips curved in a constant, easy smile. She was beautiful, but she was terrifying, and Patton backed up more into his fern hiding spot.

She lifted her flared sleeves towards Roman as she stepped into the moonlit opening and he pulled her hands towards himself, kissing both of her cheeks before releasing her.

“A month is too long, darling,” She purred, letting the back of her hand trail down his cheek. “I don’t understand why you find it necessary to stay amongst those humans when you could be with your family.”

“Because I want more than just… lounging, and talking with my brothers. Do you have to bring this up every time I visit?” Despite his slightly aggravated tone, he leaned into her touch.

“When you’re older, you’ll look back at these choices with embarrassment and resentment.”

“Maybe.”

“I just don’t want you to blame me when you do.”

“I could never, I promise.”

She sighed heavily, “They miss you, Roman. We all do.”

“Which is why I’m here, mom. You act as if I’ve been gone a millenia.”

“Worrying is what a mother does best,” She smiled fondly, tapping his cheek with her finger, “You’re home, darling. Drop the glamor? It must be tiring keeping it up constantly.”

There was a moment of hesitation, where Patton couldn’t help but tense up along with the man in front of him. Then the air shifted, like it had been holding a breath it could finally let out, and though there was nothing different that Patton could see from Roman’s back, a certain jolt of fear hit him out of nowhere.

“There’s my boy.” The woman drew him in for a proper hug, one hand reaching around his back to rest on his head. She pressed a kiss to his hair when he wrapped his arms around her in turn. Suddenly her nose wrinkled and she pulled away, holding his shoulders at arm’s length. “Dearest, you smell like humans again.”

Roman chuckled, but there was a new quiver in his voice. “The only flaw in being surrounded by them so often. Let me change, and I’ll come meet you for dinner.”

She didn’t move, eyes narrowing as she watched his face. “No… it’s not you.”

“What? What else could it possibly-”

“There’s a human here.” Her voice was utterly calm, but she pushed Roman behind her resolutely. “There must be.”

“What?!”

A low growl filled the air, and it took Patton a few moments to realize the sound was originating from her. She stepped past Roman, her dress flowing soundlessly along with her as she glared into the woods around them.

Her eyes flashed red.

Once again, Patton shoved his fist into his mouth to hide a scream. That same alien jolt of fear returned as she moved closer to him, seemingly zeroing in on his location.

“Mother, come now. You’re being silly. Humans can't even come near here, remember? You made sure of that yourself!”

Patton tore his eyes away from the advancing woman and his breath caught in his throat. Roman had followed his mother, trying to placate her gently with a hand on her arm, and in doing so, had turned towards Patton’s hiding spot.

When Patton opened his eyes shortly after being born, he was taken away from his mother, despite his parent’s strong objections and his wails. He was returned hours later, much to their relief. On his birth certificate, his right eye was labeled blue. His left eye, the side usually taken by the natural color of his soulmate’s, was labeled ‘Defective’.

When he was set to start school at six years old, his mother sat him down on his bed and taught him how to properly cover his left eye with his hair. They’d grown it out enough to do so. Patton had asked why it was necessary, and subsequently learned the truth that not all people were as accepting and loving as his parents.

When he was ten, he returned home from school crying. He dropped into his mother’s arms and she held him until his sobs turned to sniffles, until he could explain between sharp breaths that a bully at school had revealed Patton’s eye while trying to force him into a fight, and… well, his classmates hadn’t taken it well. Those who weren’t downright afraid of him, refused to eat or sit with him anymore. But it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t help it!

His eye was labeled ‘Defective’, because never before had the doctor’s seen a child born with a red eye. Not the pale color that came with pinkeye, or an allergic reaction, but the iris itself was such a bold, blood red color that it had left the team scrambling for any record of such an incident. They were left with more questions than answers. But the world had yet to understand how soulmates worked in the first place, so they chalked it up to another universal mystery.

Every day for as long as he could remember, Patton had stared into a mirror first thing in the morning, greeted with calm, airy blue on one side, and fiery, almost electric red on the other.

So it was jarring to see such a sight, yet reversed, on another person. But as Roman tugged again on his mother’s arm, there was no denying it; the man’s own color was a gleaming ruby, and the other was Patton’s very own blue.

“Mother, look,” Roman blurted out, scooping up the discarded flashlight from the forest floor, “This is a human tool. I’m sure this is what you’re smelling.”

She ripped the device from his hand, shaking it in his face, “That is still far too close to home, Roman! Humans have been here, and I guarantee they are still nearby.”

“And you don’t know how many there are, Mom!” Roman insisted, taking her hands. “It doesn’t matter how they got here, or why they did,” A slow grin spread across his face, highlighting a pair of glinting fangs, “Why don’t you gather the family, and we can find them together? I can’t even remember the last time I really ate.”

The woman was satiated by this answer, though she still cast the forest cautious looks. “Stay put, Roman. We’ll be back shortly.” Her nose wrinkled again. “Along with a change of clothes for you.”

And then she was gone, the only remaining trace being the tiny cloud of dust she’d left behind. Roman was calm for a moment, making sure she was really gone, before his demeanor dropped. The cocky smirk was gone, and he no longer held the confidence he’d had, either as a bartender or in the presence of his mother.

“We don’t have a lot of time, c’mon! Let’s go!” He crouched before the log, extending his hand to Patton.

“What the hell are you?!” Patton shrieked. Interesting, that those were the first words from his jumble of thoughts that came out.

“Oh, come on, do you really need to ask? I’m pretty sure you already know!”

And yeah, Patton was pretty sure he knew. He wasn’t an idiot. He’d had a teen Twilight phase, so of course the obvious answer was there. It just… it wasn’t possible. His brain was scrambling for any kind of other solution, anything that made sense, but it all kept circling to the same answer.

The cute bartender at the inn was a vampire.

…

Okay then.

Next problem.

“I… yeah. I think I got it.”

“Good! Now let’s go!” Roman grabbed Patton’s hand and yanked, effectively pulling him from his hiding place and nearly tearing the arm from it’s socket. Patton stumbled from the sudden movement and tripped on his camera bag, yelping as he crashed into Roman’s chest.

The vampire’s hands instantly wrapped around his waist, steadying him as he found his footing.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m all good, I just-”

Roman was much taller than he’d thought; that was the initial thought that came to mind as he looked up at the man holding him. The second was, well, the fact that his jaw had dropped open upon seeing Patton’s eyes, and for the first time since they’d met, the guy was completely speechless.

Patton felt his left eye began to tingle as they shifted into its own natural color. He ignored it.

“You really didn’t see it? At the bar?” Patton whispered.

“No, you moved too fast,” Roman murmured, bringing a hand up to Patton’s cheek. “You… you’re my-”

He must have sensed something, or heard something that was too quiet for Patton’s ears, because his head whipped towards the castle.

“We need to go. Now.” Roman intertwined their fingers and pulled him into a run towards the town.

“Wait, no! My bag!” He tugged hard to try and get his hand free, but he was truly no match for Roman.

“Not important right now, sweetheart!”

Without the aid of his flashlight, and enveloped by the darkness of the forest, Patton was totally blind, relying only on Roman’s grip to keep him from falling. Branches hit his face and roots reached up to trip him, but every time he stumbled, the hand tightened and pulled him back upright.

A howl cut through the air.

“What now, werewolves?!” Patton shrieked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, werewolves aren’t real!” Roman scoffed, “They’re normal wolves! What, you think just because we’re vampires, we’re unable to have pets?”

“Is this really a conversation we should be having at this exact moment?!” Patton shot back.

“You’re right, you’re right, okay.”

The howls were growing closer, and it was clear by Roman’s increased pace that this wasn’t about to be a friendly reunion.

“Can we outrun them?!”

“I take it you’ve never met a wolf!”

Patton looked up at him desperately, already struggling to keep up the conversation and keep up with Roman.

“I thought vampires had… like, super speed!”

“I wouldn’t be able to go for long, especially carrying you. Jump!”

Patton leapt blindly, feeling the side of a fallen log scrape the toes of his shoes. The landing was rough, sparks of pain shooting up his legs, but he was quickly pulled back upright.

“I don’t have the energy! I haven’t eaten in months!”

There were more yowls, definitely closer this time, followed by the sound of multiple animals fighting, barely louder than a voice shouting (presumably) at the racket. Whether it was the wolves having a spat, or a prey animal that had gotten in the way of the hunt, Patton didn’t know. It drew out a small whimper from him either way.

He didn’t want to be next.

“Do you trust me?” Roman suddenly gasped, holding his hand firmer.

“What?!”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?!”

Patton didn’t exactly think he had a choice right now. His feet were aching, his lungs were burning, and he wasn’t sure he could run another minute without his legs giving out. “I- Yeah! Sure!”

“Good enough,” Roman grunted bitterly, screeching to a halt, and using his grip on the other’s arm to stop him too. Before Patton could even bring himself to complain, or scream at him, or just incoherently yell, the vampire was drawing him to his chest, puppeting his arms so they were around his shoulders.

“Hold on.”

Obediently, Patton tightened the grip. “Why-”

And then there was a sharp pain in his neck, and his eyes widened. The sting almost immediately morphed into a pleasant warmth, the distant howling being replaced by a faint humming, the buzzing of his own mind calming, becoming numb until the only thought in his head was Roman, Roman, Roman-

He could feel Roman’s hand on his head, not restricting it, but cupping the back of it so he could lean against him as he stared up at the night sky, the full moon, and the slow blurring of the tops of the pine trees. His other arm was wrapped around his waist tightly, holding him up, and Patton was beyond grateful for the support as his legs began to turn to jelly. The last thing Patton felt was the vampire scooping up his legs and his head being cradled against the soft material of Roman’s shirt.

Then everything went dark.

-0-0-0-

Patton woke up slowly, squinting against the harsh sunlight streaming through his window. He dropped an arm across his eyes lazily, letting out a low groan at his pounding headache. There were voices downstairs in the tavern, and what sounded like dishes clanging, and he wondered if somehow this place was also a restaurant. How on earth could anybody run an establishment like that? It’s like the place never slept-

A wave of nausea pooled in his gut due to the speed of which he sat up but that wasn’t important, not right now. He flung his blankets back and… oh. He was dressed in his pajamas. Last he could remember, in the woods, running with Roman, he’d been in day clothes, in the sweater and shirt that was now draped on a chair across the room. His camera bag was... on the desk. His shoes were by the door, dirt free.

He raised his finger tips to his neck, expecting to feel a raised scab, or scar, any sign that he’d been bitten. There was nothing.

He swung his legs over the sides of the beds and immediately shut his eyes, fighting off an explosion of dizziness induced sparks that shot across his vision. It sure felt as if he’d lost some blood. As much as he didn’t want to believe he had a hangover from one drink, that could also be an explanation. He’d always been a bit of a lightweight.

A dream. Was it all just… a dream?

A feeling of disappointment washed over him and he sighed, running his hands up through his hair. Something soft snagged on his fingers and he carefully detangled it from the curls, pulling it out curiously. He blinked at the fern leaf between his finger tips. That definitely hadn’t happened between his car, the tavern, or the room... So-

He sucked in a breath sharply as his eyes locked with the mirror’s reflection in front of him, every thought coming to a halt.

Because staring back, for the first time ever, were two perfectly blue eyes.

I have a bunch of world building ideas that weren’t included in this fic, shoot me an ask if you have any lore questions!

General taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #vampire au #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction

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commander-hanji-zoe · 4 years ago

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Valentine’s Day Headcanons

Oh look some Valentine’s Day headcanons that I should have posted a few weeks ago (I still have two Valentine’s Day requests which I’m hoping to finish tomorrow along with my oldest other request.

This are very, very basic headcanons. Being honest, there wasn’t the same level of thought in these as my usual writing and I didn’t try to do anything flowery with the language. I just saw Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to write some quick thoughts down, hope you enjoy anyway! I decided to include Gelgar & Nile in this.

Levi

To Levi Valentine’s Day really is just another day and he doesn’t get the fuss around it.

That being said he’ll still buy his partner a card and something to go with it, usually a nice bottle of wine or some elegant flowers.

Thinks it’s silly he needs a day to say I love you - though he isn’t a man who says ‘I love you’ very often at all, he’d rather show it with actions.

If he’s single it doesn’t really bother him, he’s too busy with work to really notice what the day even is.

Gets annoyed at the younger cadets if they’re over excited and suffers terribly from second-hand embarrassment when he witnesses

Mike

Loves Valentine’s Day but more in a private way. He loves seeing others happy, but when it comes to his partner/someone he’s interested in, it’s more of a subtle affair in public.

Would much rather cook for his partner than go out to dinner, that way they can be as romantic & touchy/feely as possible without others watching.

Is big on Valentine’s underwear and has special outfits of his own - yup Mike is definitely one with a fondness for love heart boxers.

Will buy the biggest bunch of flowers, that even he finds a bit embarrassing when he sends them to his partner/the person he has a crush on.

Is into cute gestures he can repeat every year, like puzzles/a treasure hunt his partner will need to solve to find their gift.

Really loves the annual gifts from Hanji and agrees that it shouldn’t just be a day to celebration romantic love or sexual attraction, rather it’s a day to show love and gratitude to friends/family, all those who mean something to him.

Nanaba

Enjoys it but like Levi, Valentine’s Day isn’t the be all and end all and certainly isn’t a highlight in her calendar.

If she’s dating someone that she of course appreciates the card, flowers etc. And will always do her best to find the perfect card and make her partner something nice like a cake.

Will go a little easy on the cadets but is quick to put her foot down if they get too silly or carried away - romance isn’t an excuse to not pay attention.

Might wear something very small to hint at what the day is (like a love heart shaped nose stud). I don’t see Nanaba wearing red, but I think she’d enjoy having small pieces of jewellery set aside for holidays.

Blushes surprisingly easily, whether she’s with someone and they send her flowers or if she gets something from a secret admirer she might privately have a little ‘squeeee’ moments and then take a few deep breaths and it’s back to being calm and collected.

Hanji

Will buy little heart shaped chocolates to give to the other vets and makes cards by hand for all of them.

Hugs everyone they care about, extra hugs for Levi.

If waking up in bed with the one they love Hanji would be one to make Valentine’s Day breakfast in bed and return wearing nothing but an apron.

Definitely makes a card and ‘special meal’ for any titans they have in captivity.

Very much the match-maker and if they know two people like one another, but are being hopeless at showing it - they’re sure to intervene or nudge them in the right direction.

Puts in a level of effort into their outfit if on a date which other’s wouldn’t necessarily expect from them. Will actually get a little annoyed if anyone comments that ‘finally they’ve had a shower’ and explains rather abruptly that it isn’t that they don’t like showers/wearing nice scents, but work is too busy for such trivial matters!

Erwin

Timeless & classic when it comes to Valentine’s Day, he’s into old school romancing and will book a fancy meal out.

Definitely one to wear a smart suit and jacket out on a date, even if it isn’t really cold enough for a jacket he’ll wear one in case his partner gets cold so he has it to hand.

During the day he doesn’t pay much attention to it, he’s happy if others want to decorate the barracks and have an exchange of cards etc. That doesn’t mean he wants to be involved.

Is used to receiving numerous cards from secret admirers, after all he is Commander Handsome. He blushes quite easily at these and if teased by the other vets might get a little annoyed, but Erwin is good at playing it cool.

Moblit

Secretly he does look forward to Valentine’s Day, it’s not really something he’ll admit out loud, accept to Hanji of course. But dreads it in equal measures.

Is more about the home made gestures than buying lavish gifts for the person he likes.

Isn’t very good at keeping secrets, so if he sends a card to someone he likes from their ‘secret admirer’ he’ll probably tell them before the day is over.

Does work himself up a bit in the week leading up to Valentine’s Day. He has a tendency to play out scenarios in his head and for some reason they often end up as worst case.

Might style his hair slightly different for the day if there’s someone he likes, it’s a way to get their attention and a talking point.

Nile

Pretends he doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day, but if he doesn’t get any cards he will be sad.

If he gets a card he’ll shrug it off as mushy, he might even pretend to throw it away but secretly he’ll pick it up again later.

Practises pick-up lines in his mirror before approaching someone he likes.

Is very sweet on a one to one basis and is happy to take his partner/date out for a very romantic meal. Not afraid to show affection in public once he is with someone, it’s quite a spectacular shift.

Gelgar

He’ll find a pub/tavern somewhere to drink away his sorrows, probably.

I see him as being really clumsy when it comes to declarations of love - he definitely falls in love easily and when he falls he falls hard. Expect stuttering and stopping mid declaration to down whatever he’s drinking for a little more courage. The words don’t come out the right way and sometimes don’t make sense, but it’s easy to tell what he’s trying to say.

Sends over the top bouquets of flowers and a bottle of wine to the person he has a crush on, hinting heavily that the wine is to be shared.

A few modern headcanons

Those who enjoy snapchat/insta filters - Mike, likes to make himself look like a cat or a bunny with love hearts floating around him. Hanji also would enjoy them - Erwin tries to figure it out but ends up turning himself into a slice of pizza or something.

Who plans the Valentine’s Day ball? Hanji & Moblit make the best team for this particular task. Though it’s a ball at an ice skating rink or roller rink, they like to plan something super fun that everyone can enjoy with friends regardless of relationship status.

The person who gets to the card shop before it opens to avoid people? Levi 100 times.

Who buys the Valentine’s Day meal - 2 mains, a dessert and bottle of wine from the local chain supermarket? Probably Moblit.

Enjoys a cinema trip to see a chick-flick with their friends instead of worrying about dates. Nanaba

#snk vets #aot vets #headcanons #valentine's day #Levi ackerman #erwin smith #Hanji Zoe #Hange Zoe #Moblit Berner #Nanaba #Mike Zacharias #mike zakarius #miche zacharias #Gelgar #Nike Dok #my writing

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whumpbby · 4 years ago

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Hi! So this is kind of a random ask, but I know you have beta fish, and I’m considering getting one. I’ve had beta fish in the past, and despite educating myself on how to take care of them they haven’t lived very long, so I’m hoping you’ll be able to help me. For my past beta fish, I keep them in a five gallon tank (for clarification, I never had more than one beta fish at a time. So I didn’t have multiple of them in the tank don’t worry—they just all lived at different times in the same tank) that had a filter with a pretty low flow on it. I never saw any of the fish have problems swimming with it on. I always used a highly rated water purifying product for the tank water (I forgot what it’s actually called) and I never had any sharp plants that would hurt their fins. I fed them a little every two days because I heard that feeding them everyday was bad for them. Do you happen to know what I was doing wrong? It was frustrating for me because I put a lot of effort into keeping them alive and healthy and then I would see people who kept them in small half gallon bowls have their fish outlive mine. It’s been a couple years, and I want to get another, but I don’t want to accident hurt/kill another one. How do you care for your beta fish? Do you have any advice? Sorry about the rant, but I follow you for your Jason content and happened to stumble upon some of you fish posts and need help. Thanks so much for reading this, and if you do end up offering any advice, I want to thank you for that too!

Hi dear, sorry if I took long to answer - tumblr notoriously does not inform me of messages>>

I understand your pain - especially that the situation with bettas is very frustrating. They tend to suffer from quite a few genetic defects (they are prone to tumours, for example) and are a very abused fish in the aquatic industry. Oftentimes by the time they will get to a caring and dedicated owner, they’ve already went through a lot:0 We just don’t know how healthy the fish is before we got it.

I am by no means an expert, I have lost a few babies since I started the hobby a couple years ago and I can only assume what a few of them suffered from:( One thing that seems to work is leaving them and the tank alone for as long as you can once it’s all set up and cycled and running - apart form the regular maintenance. I am a chronic fiddler who needs to change and add plants, filters, etc, so I constantly have to hold myself back form doing things to the tank. My sister has the same betta for a second year now and the only thing she does with her tank is water changes once every couple weeks - and both him and a thousand of cherry shrimp that live there thriveXD

Some things I nowadays pay attention to that may be useful, however, are:

- water temp has to be consistent, on the warmer side. I keep mine at 26-27C (I don’t know how much that is in F, sorry>>). To that effect the tank needs a lid - it will trap the warm air, protecting the betta form inhaling cold air then they come up for a breath. They labyrinth breathing organ is quite sensitive to that.

- I feed my boys twice a day, so I am not a part of the ‘feed them little’ club. I give them a little pinch of the good flake in the morning (Bug Bites is nice) and a 3-4 granules of a King Betta or a pinch of a protein-rich micro pellets in the evening. A betta breeder I talked to a couple times advised that it’s better to feed the boys a couple times a day in small quantities rather than once - keeps their digestive tracts working and they can avoid constipation. Constipation happens often with bettas and is a headache to solve. I leave frozen bloodworms for special occasions and just rotate the dry foods for variety.

- I change water every week - and every other week make sure to vacuum gravel the substrate. In the planted tanks I vacuum only about 2-3cm of the top layer to not disturb planting substrate below and not to suck up any shrimp, so it’s a gentle operation. In the gravel where there is no growing substrate I go deep - the reason being that I want to free any possible air bubbles stuck underneath where bad bacteria may grow.

- Pick a filter and stick to it. I was very bad at that, but I finally managed to hotwire a combo that seems to work so I will stick to it;) If you can stand the noise, I advise a sponge filter - it’s so easy to clean and manageTT If you can’t stand the hum of the air pump and the bubbles, I recommend a matten filter - or hotwiring an internal filter to a sponge filter - like so - instruction in German, but the visuals are very self-explanatory;] I used gel superglue to connect the filterhead to a sponge filter and now all I have to do once a month or rarer is to pull the sponge off and squeeze it few times in the used tank water! And sometimes clean the showerhead from algae;] It saves you so much money on the cartridges (corner sponge filters are a couple £/$ and last years) and provides extra filtration. My shrimps also eat off it;]

- get a snail. Seriously, I have a snail in every tank - a single nerite will do best for a 5gal. They don’t breed in sweet water, don’t grow large and will keep your glass clean for you - I have not cleaned my tanks’ glass since... ever>> Joe I and Joe II do it for meXD They also provide company for the betta and something fun to look at. And he will scarf uneaten food form the gravel.

- I assume you know about the nitrogen cycle, so I will not bore you here about bacteria and such. But a best chance of saving the betta form stress when you get him home is a cycled tank. You can get an ammonia testing set - or, if you find that a bit intimidating (I do for some reason) you can go to an aquarist shop and they will check your water for you. My local store in town does it for free. I am not sure about big box stores, tho. If you see something being wrong with the betta, check water and see if it needs to be changed asap.

- water changes are mandatory and have to be regular. A 5gal is a convenient size - I am using a 5l bottle left over from mineral water as a measuring tool;) This way I know I am always changing roughly 1/4th of the tank’s water. It’s very easy to see how much water I removed and how much I have to put back in - I can control the water temp and add dechlotinator/vitamins etc before it goes into the tank, so I do not shock my critters with too hot or too cold water. The rule I practice is leaving the dechlorinator in the bottle for about 10 mins before pouring it all into the tank.

- you don’t have to be intimidated by planted tanks:) A little bunch of anubias on a stick is often enough to start with and a good look for a tank, in my opinion. It also makes for a more natural space for the betta he will certainly appreciate. The less fancy stuff the better - I got my first natural rocks form the side of the road (ofc I boiled the life out of them before they got even close to the tank) and they are usually quite cheap on amazon. A stick with a plant and a rock and some small-size gravel is often enough to look good. The plants will also help with eating up nitrites and keeping the water healthy.

- goodness, what else. Medicaiton. Ok. I have tried many meds for my boys and once the fish is in a bad way not much will help, form my experience :( My med set consists of Melafix - I add it to water according to instructions whenever I see my betta without appetite or acting off. It’s a mild anti-bacterial mixture that does not affect snails/shrimp. If that does not help, I use eSHa 2000 or eSHa Exit - they are two very comprehensive meds that deal with a variety of problems. I have never used aquarium salt, but some people swear by it - there’s no specific reason I don’t use it, I just never got around to it.

This is all the chaotic advice, but things to remember (I am not trying to be condescending, I just don't know how much you know;]) are: cycled tank, regular water changes&filter maintenance, consistent temperature and quality food. Bettas are hardy little suckers, but sometimes they are also frail in ways we can’t see until it’s too late. I am already seeing a tumour growing on one of my boys and there is nothing I can do about it except giving him the best life I can - he is still going strong, but I know he will probably not last to the end of the year. It’s a hobby that sometimes seems thankless, but if you do everything right, even if they leave early, at least you’ve given them a good and peaceful time before that:)

If I you have any more questions or just want to share woes, feel free to message, I will do my best to answer:)

#bettas #fishkeeping #Anonymous

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name-me-regret · 3 years ago

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If The World Was Ending 14/?

If The World Was Ending Chapter Fourteen: A Lethal Side

Read on AO3.

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“Some things I just cannot change Are you waiting for me to show you the way out? This love has a lethal side I would take the bullet, ah

You feel just like you're wasting a lifetime on me Just give into the feeling we got something real, yeah 'Cause every love song needs somebody to sing

So let me show you I'm what you need before you run away...

Can't hear what those people say Telling you that you're crazy believing in me now And if we march on the front line I would take the bullet...”

~ Runaway - James Carter

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

‘Because you’re exhausting!’

The words had been playing on repeat in his mind for the past hour, and it didn’t look like it would stop any time soon. Buck felt, not for the first time, that he had made a mistake for filing that lawsuit. That was especially true since it had solved nothing. His friends, his family, had pulled away further. That was none more true than Eddie, who had started to pull away from him even before the lawsuit. Now, he was sure he had completely lost him.

Buck cleared his throat, wiping hastily at his eyes. He decided that he needed to clear his mind, and that it was time to fall back on his usual coping method. So, he stopped briefly at his loft to get changed into his hiking gear. He’d added to the collection in the last two years that he had been with the 118, especially since he was trained in rescue and knew what was needed in case of an emergency.

He’d been part of a lot of hikes, so he knew that things that might seem like overkill, were essential. That meant his headlamp since it was almost sunset, and made sure he checked the batteries on it and brought extra ones just in case. He also made sure he had his LifeStraw Water Filter that he’d recently purchased, since he’d taken to hiking a lot during his recent shifts as the Fire Marshal.

The man sent a text to Maddie telling her he was going for a hike at Griffith Park, which would be open until 9pm, so he had plenty of time for a few hours to go on the hiking trail. When he arrived at the park almost 40 minutes later the sun was almost completely setting, he grabbed his backpack with his supplies but first slipped on his hydration backpack, which was small enough to fit on his front, against his chest. He had enough water for at least a two to three hour hike.

He was twenty minutes into his hike, not having seen anyone on the dark trail this whole time, when his playlist cut off as his phone started to beep furiously. “JARVIS?” Buck asked as he detached his phone from the strap of his backpack.

‘Sir will be with you shortly, Mr. Buckley,’ JARVIS told him. Buck knew that J was an AI, but he had always been pretty expressive. However, he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him sound as strained as he did now.

“What? Why? What’s going on, J?”

The AI was silent before he started to speak again. ‘Sir was attacked two hours ago by an assailant that I’ve been able to identify as the Winter Soldier.’

This alarmed Buck and he lifted his head, looking for the armor but the dark sky was empty thus far. “Is Tony hurt? Why are you bringing him here?”

‘Sir didn’t have a combat ready armor with him at the time and though he managed to evade capture, he suffered a head injury that’s rendered him unconscious.’

“Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” Buck demanded. “He could have a concussion!”

‘My protocols are to bring him to the closest person he trusts, and since his healthcare proxy is currently in D.C., you were the closest person to his location.’

Buck ran a hand through his hair, his cap getting knocked off in the process, but not that he noticed in that moment. “Alright… alright,” he muttered. He turned back and started to run back the way he had come, and was glad he hadn’t gone too far down the trail. He reached his Jeep in less than ten minutes, glad that he had kept to his training regiment after he’d started his light duty. After all, lying around doing nothing was more detrimental to his health.

He heard the repulsors then and he lifted his head to see the armor coming in from the west. That meant he had been in Malibu when he’d been attacked. The armor touched down more gently than he would have thought, but then again, JARVIS was the one flying it. It also appeared to be an incomplete armor, so that’s likely why he’d been mostly unprotected from the attack.

“Alright, open her up J,” he told the AI. When he did, Buck was ready to catch Tony as the unconscious man tumbled out. He’d opened his passenger side door ahead of time and easily lifted him and put him inside. “Tony, hey,” he said as he rubbed his sternum and patted his cheek to get him to wake up.

Tony moaned weakly and his eyelashes fluttered but didn’t open. The was blood caked on the side of his head from where he’d been hit and Buck didn’t have time to wonder what exactly it had been. Tony whimpered when he shifted him up further in the seat, making Buck wince.

“Sorry, sorry, but I need you to wake up.” Finally, his eyes opened and Buck couldn’t help grin at him. “There you are.”

“Ev?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” He took his headlamp off as an idea occurred to him, and used that to shine in his eyes. He flinched at the light and that wasn’t a good sign, especially since his pupils were dilated. When the man suddenly leaned out the open door and threw up, narrowly missing Buck’s hiking boots, he knew that he had a concussion, and needed to get him to the hospital to make sure it wasn’t anything worse.

That’s when he noticed the blood at his side and when he lifted his shirt, Buck saw that he’d torn his stitches. “Shit,” he hissed. He reached under his seat for his first aid kit, being thankful for his sister’s paranoia after the truck bombing. He quickly patched the wound, since he didn’t have the supplies to restitch it there and then he buckled him in and ran around to the driver’s side. Buck was relieved when he pulled up his maps amp and saw that there was a medical center less than ten minutes away. As he drove, he had JARVIS call the hospital.

“Tony? Are you awake?” The man groaned. “Do you know where you are?”

“M’in y’r Je’p?” Tony slurred. That didn’t sound good.

“Can you remember what happened?” Buck pressed, needing to see how bad the concussion was.

“Dunno… g’t hit?”

“Do you remember what hit you?”

Tony was silent for too long that Buck reached over and shook him, and sighed in relief when the man flinched. “No… no,” he said, shaking his head but moaned in pain at the movement. “Hurts.”

“I know, but I got you, Tony,” he reassured him. He looked behind him when he saw the blue lights and a cop car, which then pulled along side and then he motioned for Buck to follow him. It seemed JARVIS had also contacted the police department for an escort. Buck gave a thumbs up and followed the black and white cruiser.

As soon as they pulled into the ER, a few nurses and a doctor rushed out with a gurney. Buck told them about the head injury and the torn stitches as they loaded Tony onto the gurney. The cop told him that he’d be guarding Tony as per the instructions of someone named JARVIS. Then he was left alone, not knowing what to do except look at the hospital doors for a few moments before the siren of an arriving ambulance snapped him out of it. He closed the passenger side door of his Jeep and then got back in to find a parking space.

He was lucky to find one, even if it was further away than he would have liked. However, before he could leave the Jeep, JARVIS spoke up again. ‘Mr. Buckley, sir is being tracked.’

“What? By who?”

‘The Winter Soldier.’

“Who is that?” Buck asked a bit hysterically. He didn’t know what was going on. All he knew was that someone had hurt Tony and now they were likely coming to finish the job.

’He is an assassin that’s been sent by HYDRA.’

“Hydra? What is Hydra?”

‘HYDRA is an authoritarian paramilitary subversive terrorist organization bent on world domination. It was very active during World War 2 but with the efforts of Captain America and the Howling Commandos, they were able to destroy it.’

“I’m sensing a but,” Buck groaned where he’d laid his head against the steering wheel. This was spiraling into very dangerous territory, and Buck felt that he was barely keeping his head above water.

‘It seems to have survived and infiltrated SHIELD. Sir discovered this several days ago, as well as a plan to use an algorithm created by a HYDRA scientist to identify people that posed a threat to them and thus be able to eliminate them.’

“He stopped them and then they came after him?” Buck hazarded a guess. He took in several shaky breaths, trying not to have a panic attack right that moment. He was a first responder, a fire fighter that was used to running into a burning building, but this was more Athena’s area. Only, he couldn’t call her, couldn’t call anyone for help.

It was in that moment that Buck truly felt alone. He was alone in this.

‘Yes, that is correct.’

Buck contemplated on what he should do now, wondering if he should go inside, or call the police to warn them. It was just, would they believe him at all? Buck seriously doubted it. He was worried, because right now Tony was unprotected. “What do I do, J? I’m just a firefighter... or rather, I was.” He sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair. “I can’t help him.”

‘There is a way, Mr. Buckley.’

The man’s head lifted in surprise. “What? How? What do I have to do?” He’d already lost his family at the 118 and didn’t want to also lose Tony. If there was something that he could do, then he would.

‘The Rescue Protocol.’

Buck frowned. “What’s that?”

‘Sir designed armor to your measurements and called it the Rescue armor.’

“What?!”

Before he could ask more, he heard the sound of repulsors once again and rolled down his window as he stuck his head out of it. He saw the suit coming from the east, which he found was weird. “Where is it coming from, J?”

‘Sir designed it and had it built at his lab in New York, because that lab had the equipment for it. He activated the protocol almost three hours ago, but since it was on the other side of the country, it is only now arriving.’

Buck stumbled out of the Jeep and saw not one armor, but two of them. “Wait, that’s two armors.”

‘It is War Machine, Mr. Buckley.’

“Holy shit,” Buck gasped, not believing that he was about to see Rhodes after all these years.

The two armors touched down and the face plate lifted on the War Machine armor. “Evan Buckley, is that you?” the man asked incredulously. The War Machine armor gave Rhodes about four inches, so they were about the same height.

“Rhodes, hey man,” Buck greeted him weakly. As he turned to what JARVIS had dubbed the Rescue armor, he saw that it would likely give him four inches as well. That explained why the Rescue armor looked taller. It was also colored the same blue as his LAFD uniform.

Rhodes pointed at the other armor. “Is it safe to assume this is for you to use?”

Buck ran a hand down his face as he nodded. “I don’t- I don’t know the first thing about how to use it. I kinda just found out literally a minute before you got here.”

“Lucky for you, FRIDAY informed me about the situation going on with Tony, so you might not have to use it.”

“Who’s-?”

‘Colonel Rhodes, incoming from the west,’ JARVIS interrupts them suddenly, voice urgent.

The Rescue armor is opening and Buck yelps as it lunges at him and incases him. He staggers back as the HUD turns on, breathing heavily and an alarm is suddenly beeping. Buck is stunned as his Jeep suddenly explodes in a ball of fire as it is flung to the side and into another car. The instincts he learned from his time in the SEALs kick in as he jumps away, rolling with the momentum, and is shocked at how easy the armor moves around him.

“Evan!” Buck hears Rhodes panicked voice and his vision is suddenly filled with a man with long hair wielding a grenade launcher, which is aimed right at him. He jerks to the side to avoid the grenade, which sails dangerously close to his face and it hits another vehicle that also explodes.

‘Mr. Buckley, may I suggest leaving the area before the hospital takes damage,’ JARVIS tells him.

“How do I do that?!” He yelps as the repulsors at his feet suddenly turn on and he waves his arms around wildly as he starts to lift off the ground, which makes the take off shaky and almost flies into another car.

‘Keep your hands at your side, Mr. Buckley,’ the AI instructs.

Buck quickly does that and the armor shoots into the sky, and it’s only because he’s jumped from a helo into the ocean during the BUD/S training that he doesn’t scream. Of course, he hadn’t made it much longer after passing Hell Week, because he hadn’t been able to turn off his emotions. So, he was very terrified in that moment. Especially when he saw a motorcycle following them with the long haired man on it, and did he have a fucking metal arm?!

“Evan, this way,” he hears Rhodes call. He follows JARVIS’s instructions as he angles his body to follow the man and almost whoops when he’s able to do it without veering too much off course. “We need to get away from the city before we engage.” They’re heading toward the Hollywood Hills, more than likely where there are very little houses.

Buck is totally onboard with that, since the last thing he wants is for someone to get hurt. He tries not to think too closely about what engage actually means, and that he was going to actively attack someone. And shit, he’s thinking about it now.

Then an alarm starts to blare through the speakers and with J’s warning, Buck twists in midair to avoid being hit as their pursuer shoots at them, which sends him into a sudden barrel roll that has him giving a choked off scream. He some how manages to regain control of the —his?— armor and gasps when he sees that the grenade had missed him, but managed to hit a building. Buck becomes alarmed when he sees that it was a house on the edge of where the hills start.

“Shit!” Buck exclaims as he turns, forgetting his fear and even that he’s way out of his element. There are people in danger and he can’t just do nothing. “JARVIS, is there some kind of fire suppressant system in the suit?” He sees as the AI selects the systems but curses when he sees its aimed for it to be used in case the suit is on fire or sparks. “I need something to stop the fire!”

‘There is a water gun on the shoulder,’ JARVIS tells him. Of course he had seen it, which resembled the one that Rhodes had on the War Machine armor, but he had assumed it was a weapon. ‘If you land in the pool beside the house, there are compartments that will open to suck into the suit and that will be directed to the water gun.’

Buck grinned despite himself, because he hadn’t been expecting that. “Wow, I thought it was a gun!”

‘That’s why Sir called it the Rescue armor. He designed it especially for you.’

And Buck could see that now. He hadn’t designed it like a weapon the way he had for Rhodes’s War Machine armor, but like a tool used to rescue people for Buck. Because that is what Buck did, he was a firefighter and he rescued people, and now the name Rescue for the armor made sense. “Alright then, J. Let’s see what this thing can do.” He had the AI connect him to Rhodes and told him that he needed to keep the assassin off his back while he went to put out the fire and see if there had been anyone inside the house.

“Roger,” Rhodes tells him. The War Machine turns and heads toward where the motorcycles is still following them. It also appears as if there are two police cars and one police motorcycle following the man. Whether they were alerted because he was breaking laws to catch up to them or because someone saw him shooting the grenade launcher is unclear, but that doesn’t matter at the moment.

“J, is there like some kind of autopilot on this thing? I don’t think I can land softly enough not to damage the pool.” Buck asked as they fly toward the house. He grins when the AI takes control of the suit and they land. JARVIS relinquishes control almost immediately after and he grins when he sees that the water can also come out of the hands by three individual tubes that can open up at the palms. It’s a good thing the pool is fairly large, and the gallons in it are likely enough to extinguish the flames. If not, there is another pool next door he can use.

“Aright, let her rip, J,” he tells the AI. He braces for the pressure to hit, use to doing it when he handles the hose as a firefighter, but it seems that he doesn’t need to as the suit is immovable. The water leaves the gun and the palms of the armor, and he aims at the worse of the flames. He cuts off the flow when the flames frizzle out, but makes sure there is enough left inside the suit in case there is more fire inside. There is a hole on one side of the house, and he rushes in like he usually does. “LAFD! Is anyone in here?” Buck shouts, forgetting that he isn’t a firefighter with the department anymore.

There is smoke and ash from the destroyed wall in the air and he kicks a few chucks away as he goes further inside. “Hello! Is someone in here?” His voice sounds mechanical and almost resembles what Tony’s does whenever he speaks while in the suit.

That’s when the suit’s HUD displays a scan of the house and it detects three heat signatures. Even then, he keeps calling and soon he hears a voice calling for help. The first person is a man in his early fifties which is the owner, judging by the information that JARVIS is displaying, and that he lives there with his younger wife and fifteen-year-old son. He brings the man out even as he protests. “I’m going to get them out,” he tells him with certainty.

He finds the wife next in a bathroom, a woman in her early forties who is unconscious from a hit to the head. Buck needs to secure her neck and substitutes a towel gently but tightly around her neck, making sure its not enough to strangle her. He then sees a bathrobe and uses the tie of it to secure the towel in place. Now that the neck is secure in case she has a spinal or neck injury, he carries her out.

“Evan, are you clear?” Rhodes calls over the coms, hearing the strain in his voice.

“Almost, Rhodes. I got one more victim inside the house. Give me ten minutes.”

“You got five,” he gasped. Buck jerks his head up as he hears an explosion, but sighs in relief when he sees War Machine still in the air.

“Copy!” Buck yells as he runs back into the house. JARVIS had pulled up the information, so he knows the name of the young man. “Jake! Jake, are you there?” He hears the house groan and knows the explosion caused the whole structure to be unstable, but he doesn’t want to leave until he has the teenager. Buck heads to where the heat signature is coming from, glad there isn’t any more fire, but there are sparks and if the gas line was damaged it could get really dangerous really fast. So he hurries. “Jake!”

He comes upon a room for a teenage girl and decides that he obviously isn’t there. Then he sees movement and turns. “Jake?” he calls as he rushes in. He finds a teenage girl huddled in the corner, confused by her presence there and wondering if he’ll have enough time to find Jake, but knows he can’t leave her there.

“It’s Jenny,” she whimpers as the house shudders.

Buck is confused. “What?”

“That... that’s not my name. It’s Jenny.” She cries out as the house shakes again. “J-Ja... that’s not my name!”

He realizes what she means almost immediately and nods as he kneels. “Alright, Jenny,” he soothes. He holds out his armored hand. “Take my hand, sweetheart. I’ll get you out, alright?”

Her eyes, bluer than even his own, dart up to his face. Then she nods and takes it. Buck lifts her up and carries her out. He deposits her into her father’s waiting’s arms who sobs a thanks for getting his daughter out, and Buck takes a moment to smile.

“Evan!”

“Shit!” he curses when he sees another grenade coming their way and instinctively lifts his hands and lets the water go with all the pressure the suit has, from the water gun as well. It must be more like a water cannon, because it knocks the grenade out of its course, and it hits the house. Buck turns and shields the family from the debris as it seems to hit another support beam and the whole structure comes down.

When he makes sure the family of three is okay, he goes a few steps away and his second take off is more smooth than the first one. He sees the lights of the emergency crews as he goes, and now that he knows the family is safe, he decides to concentrate on the fight that’s coming. Buck had never been a violent person, had never seen combat during his SEAL training, but he also knows that he can’t stand by while this assassin wrecks havoc and harms more people.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Athena had gotten a call from one the police officers in East Hollywood. While she wasn’t able to put any kind of official alert on her family or the 118’s vehicles or homes, they each knew the names of the people closest to them. When one of them was involved is an accident or any kind of incident. Mostly it was her kids, Michael and Bobby. Oh, and Buck, of course. It was because that kid was always getting into trouble, and because despite what Bobby said, Buck was his son. He was his son even while he was suing Bobby and the man was mad at him.

So, when the East Hollywood police were contacted by Iron Man’s associate to be an escort and given the license plate of Buck’s Jeep (which he’d just gotten back from the body shop), Athena had found out about it twenty minutes later. Naturally, she told Bobby, who was off shift and both of them raced over toward Kaiser Permanente regardless that they couldn’t contact Buck due to the lawsuit.

They were horrified when they found that area around the hospital parking lot cordoned off by police. Athena got off to try to find out something, telling Bobby to circle around and she’d call him when she knew something. She was able to pass through the police line easily enough, and even if she wanted to go immediately to the hospital and find out about Buck, something drew her to the scene.

There were several vehicles that had been on fire, which meant the another fire station, mainly station 6, were on the scene. There was a lot of destruction, like a bomb had gone off, and as she walked closer to the scene to try and see what was happening, she stepped on something.

The woman frowned and bent down to pick it up, seeing it was a California license plate, covered in soot and half burned. She wiped at the numbers, the curiosity getting the better of her. The moment she did, the sob felt like it was punched out of her.

It was Buck’s license plate.-

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

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malethirsty · 5 years ago

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Male Crow Eater: Tig Trager

Summary: As Charming Cinemas opens with a mattinee of Smokey & The Bandit, you plan on inviting SAMCRO as your plus group, however Tig has a plan of his own.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), Vouyerism

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/MaleThirst/status/1201339860633571334

After what seemed like a long time of work, the final stages of building Charming Cinema had arrived, which is a big time for any constructor as you gazed out at the finished work with SAMCRO all next to you to celebrate “Good work man.” Jax said to you & the club murmured it’s approval “At least your asshole boss will stop hassling you about us now.” Tig snarked “Well he’s gonna get a shock on Grand Opening day.” “Why’s that doll?” Tig asked intrigued, “As a thank you, we get to invite people this weekend, the mattinee is Smokey & The Bandit, and I” “We’re in, whatever it is, we’re in.” Tig proclaimed, causing you to smirk “Was wondering if ya’ll would like to be my invite, I can put it under ‘Teller-Morrow Workers’ so he won’t know it’s you guys, you need to keep you kutte’s out of sight though.” “Seems fair enough.” Jax looked to his brotherhood and asked “All in favour of being Y/N’s date to the Charming Cinema opening say I.” “I” the orher members spoke in unison all raising their hands “That settles it.” Jax said “When do you need us.” “It actually starts at midnight that day, so you all would be up, we get the day off as other people are coming in to make sure things are up and working, so I’ll be at the Clubhouse picking out suits and shit for you guys.” “Deal.” Said Jax leaning in for a kiss to seal the deal, with much wolf whistling from the crowd. “Not right now, I need to head back, but I’ll see you later.” SAMCRO waves you off, before Tig turned to the group “So tonight I’m gonna get Y/N to give me a run through of the place, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

A few days passed where final procedures were put into place. You went over to the clubhouse to get everyone’s measurements for their suits, everyone was cooperative, apart from Tig who asked you for the floorplan. You eventually gave it to him, wondering why he wanted to know “Don’t worry about it doll.” He grinned and winked at you, making you wonder about what he could pull, as Tig was often the most daring SAMCRO member.

The night before the opening finally arrived, and you were brimming with excitement at the product finally being shown off. You had rented out a limo for the club so they could arrive in style and piss off your boss with how formal they were. “I still don’t understand why we can’t scare him with our bikes.” Juice said “I’d love to, but it’s opening night procedure and I have to set an example, after tomorrow, you can rock up and vroom your engine to scare him, but doing it tonight would set people on edge.” “He’s right, we can be formal for one night, right guys?” Jax asked to a murmur of ascent. Things went smoothly after that, you made it to the confectionary stand with no problems with Ratboy being designated on carrying everyone’s snacks and then passing them out so you got your Ice cream and Popcorn to share with Tig who chose to sat right next to you “I’m excited, Smokey & The Bandit is my favourite film of all time! Love that damn film!” You smiled at his enthusiasm “I’m glad you could be here for me, all of you guys.” At that point as everyone had filtered in, the lights dimmed for previews so Jax sent an obligatory thumbs up.

Midway through the film, Tig tapped on your shoulder “What’s up?” You whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear “I need you outside, it’s urgent.” Quickly you rose to your feet and escorted Tig outside “Are you ok? Is something wrong? Are you losing feeling in your legs?” Your questioning was stopped by Tig slamming you into the wall and kissing you deep. “Fuck that was exhilierating.” Tig whispered hotly “You said it was urgent, I feared the worse!” You said a little angrily “It is Y/N.” He moved your hand to his clothed cock “I’ve been fucking hard since you sat next to me, my balls are so full of cum, I need you to milk it out of me like the good Crow Eater you are.” You shook your head, a grin forming on your face “Lead the way Tig.” He scooped you up in his arms and made his way forwards. You expected he’d take you to the men’s toilets to fuck in the cubicle, but he continued up the stairs “Tig, the” “I know doll, I have a surprise that I’ve been planning for a while.” He walked into the staff room, where your boss often had meetings, thank goodness it was empty. Tig sat in your boss’s seat at the head of the table and pushed you to your knees “Suck my dick.” Tig ordered and you wasted no time taking his pants down as he removed his kutte, finishing as you took his cock deep into your mouth “Oh shit, fuck yes!” Tig moaned out as he sat back, arms outstretched as he enjoyed your technique on his dick. “Like that (Y/N), Oh God, you wanna get a raise then you better suck me off like that! Fuck baby!” With the boss/employee storyline in place, you decided to up the ante and moved down and begun to suck his balls “OH FUCK!” Tig yelled out “Fuck yeah! So good for daddy! Now this is that good shit! Suck daddy’s balls baby boy, get em in your mouth, breathe in my musk, smells good huh?” You nodded your head, tongue circling around each of Tig’s balls reducing the man to a collection of groans and moans as he held your head and guided you.

Eventually he pulled you off him “Up on the table babe.” You quickly slid onto the wooden table in front of Tig, noticing out of the corner of your eye the CCTV camera “Oh shit! Tig, we’re being filmed!” You said pointing up at it “Oh yeah, we are!” He waved at the camera “Tig! This is bad! I could lose my-“ “Calm down doll!” He reached into his fallen pants and pulled out his phone. He worked with it for a bit before he showed it to you, on the screen was a FaceTime chat with Clay on the other end in what looked like the CCTV room, with your boss on the floor, seemingly knocked out “We figured your Two Suit Boss needed to get some SAMCRO vengance for the pressure he put you under for being with us, so Clay slipped out earlier and beat him unconscious, he has full control of the cameras & footage, we’re gonna take the footage of us and run our own SAMCRO Cinema unveiling later, the matinee is of you being my good fucking slut and taking daddy’s cock like a good Crow Eater.”

“You are something else Tig.” You knew he was out there but the fact he’d go this far for you was shocking but also really pleasing “Fuck yeah I am. Now spread your legs for me.” You did as he asked “Fuck your asshole looks good, can’t wait to get my dick up inside it.” Tig wasted no more time and fucked himself deep inside said asshole. “FUCK!” You groaned, your head hitting the table “Ouch!” “Fuck, doll, you alright?” Tig rubbed your head soothingly “Yeah, I didn’t expect how hard you’d be.” “Y/N, I’m a very big man, even bigger when I think about ya, now let daddy take care of you.” Tig began to work himself in & out of you with a rough pace, moans falling out of his mouth “You’re so fucking tight babe, fuck you’re the tightest hole I’ve ever fucked, and I’ve fucked so many over my time.” Tig leant down over you, kissing you deep. He rubbed your nipples as you ran your hands down his chest hair “Fuck you’re hot.” I breathed out “Back at ya.” Tig grinned, suddenly pulling out “Turn over.” You swiftly turned over, moaning out as Tig fucked back into you.

Now fucking from behind, Tig was able to go deeper, moaning louder “Fuck Tiggy, you’re so fucking good.” You praised, to the bikers ears “I wanna stay in your ass forever. Your walls are tight and cozy around my dick. Such a good Crow Eater for daddy.” You let multiple moans fall out as he continued to fuck you “Oh yeah!” Tig groaned, loving how well you were taking his cock “This is better than watching Smokey, this is way. fucking. better.” He hit your prostate deeply, leaving you a mess of sweat & moans as you tightened around him. He pulled out yet again, causing you to moan in despair “Tig, I need you!” He laughed “Get up from there babe.” As you moved off the table, you saw him sitting in your boss’s chair again “Sit on it.” He didn’t need to ask twice, you slid your legs in between the slats on the chair and lowered yourself onto his dick. “That’s it, Oh fuck! I fuckin love your ass Y/N!” He groaned out, slapping it as you both returned to your rhythm, the air filling with moans & groans from the both of you. He bit into your nipples making you scream out “OH FUCK TIG!” He laughed, “God I love you Y/N.” “I love you too Tig.” You moaned back, kissing him deep.

Both of your paces began to get sloppy & you knew you wouldn’t last much longer “Fuck Tig, I’m gonna” Tig began to stroke your cock “Do it babe, cum for daddy Tig, shoot all over daddy’s hairy chest!” His dirty talk, his Earth shattering fuck, it finally pulled you under. You were a mess of moans as you shot all over him “Oh fuck! You made a mess of daddy! But I fucking love it!” He went faster than before, causing you to bend backwards a moaning mess as he continued to work into you, your walls now extra tight from your orgasm. “Fuck doll, daddy’s gonna cum, Tiggy’s gonna cum deep inside you! You’re so tight round my cock, make Daddy proud & take all his cum, FUCK!” He kept going roughly before finally “OH YES! FUCK YEAH!” He shuddered roughly as he shot his load deep. You reached back up, giving him a deep kiss that he returned with matching passion, breaking it, you licked his moustache “Fuck, keep that up and I’m gonna get hard again.” You repeated your action & low and behold, his cock began to get hard again “Fuck, you are insatiable!” “Only for you babe, only for you.” You both kissed as you removed your legs from the slats and both of you stood up & started to get dressed again, Tig reached for his phone “What did you think Clay?” “See for yourself.” You heard him say, Tig let out a “Well shit.” Before showing you the phone, Clay was holding his right hand up, covered in his load. You & Tig took a moment to appreciate the sight before Tig disconnected the call. “SAMCRO Cinema is gonna be fucking great, I can tell. We’ll go back and watch the film, then I’ll go get confectionary for us all, then as they watch our movie, I’ll take you down the hall, shove my musky balls in your mouth, you’ll love them, I’ll fucking cum, we’ll have a good fucking night.” You leaped into Tig, wrapping your legs round his back as you kissed him “Damn baby, where did you come from? Doll, I fucking love you.” Tig kissed you deep again as you let his compliments wash over you, SAMCRO was where you belonged.

#Tig Trager #Male Reader #Tig Trager x Male Reader #Tig Trager Smut #Sons Of Anarchy #Sons Of Anarchy Smut #Male Crow Eater

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steve0discusses · 4 years ago

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Yugioh S4 Ep 24: Someone Actually Called the Cops.

So recently I was like, “I should do something different than my usual” and I decided to open up a little thread for critiquing ppl’s short stories, and I kid you not, the very first story I got was someone’s Seto Kaiba erotica. Which, even in erotica form, did not have very much romance in it. So, now that Yugioh will apparently haunt my every waking move forever until I die, lets get back to S4. Lets desperately get back to canon. I miss canon.

Last we left off, Kaiba lost KaibaCorp...again. Really feels like he loses this company once every couple of years (weeks if we count season 1-3). Except, this time, Dartz didn’t read the fine print in the legal files that says the company must be run by a member of the Kaiba family. While that was a huge plot point with Pegasus, turns out that Seto and Mokuba’s memories have been blended so thoroughly, like a very fine Shadow Realm smoothie, that they just...forgot.

And like I’m positive that Roland remembers, but Roland’s not gonna say something and accidentally reveal he’s the 4th Kaiba brother and have to get abducted all the time and actually work for a living. Anyways, they forgot why Pegasus abducted them in the first place in Season 1, and honestly, so did the writers of this season 4 years later. Not like it mattered, because if Seto and Mokuba did take Dartz to court, the world would end before their case would even start.

Which is how, after one talk with Roland, Seto and Mokuba just sort of laid prone on the metaphorical ground and let it wash over them that yes, KaibaCorp is gone.

I really like this extra-long helicopter, PS.

Both members of Kaiba’s Sunglasses Army decided to align themselves with Kaiba, although honestly, I don’t think anyone else in this company has realized that they’ve been bought. It happened...1 hour ago. Like what do you even do if your company randomly gets bought in the middle of a workday? Like no lead up, no indication, just BAM you’ve been bought?

And if Duke works for Pegasus who got bought out by Dartz and then Dartz bought Kaiba Corp-------What does that make Duke? Is he gonna have to start wearing sunglasses inside?

Anyway, Roland knows better than to tell Seto Kaiba he doesn’t work for him anymore while still in the same helicopter as Seto Kaiba, who already crashed one plane today and will crash yet another plane before this episode is through.

(read more under the cut)

Seto decides to align with Yugi since he needs to confront Dartz eventually. Which is when we find out that Seto always planned to align with Yugi and was just giving him a really hard time.

Because over the last several episodes, Seto has had an entire team at this random museum in Florida in order to take some pictures (that really should have already been on the internet but wtv, it was 2003 so maybe it wasn’t?)

It’s like most of the way through s4 and the biker ninjas still send me. How did he make SO MANY biker ninjas? At what point was Dartz like...and now...all my mooks...will be ninja bikers. Or orcs. Mostly Ninja bikers.

Did Alister or the others ever tell him “hey, Master Dartz, I get that your 10000 years old but like...do you not understand what a biker is?” and was Dartz like

“clearly bikers are the most evil thing in the world, obviously.” completely unaware that most bikers are just 45 year old accountants.

In these scenes we also get a gander at their laptops and, if you ever want to see high level life crippling OCD anxiety in picture form, it’s illustrated very clearly right here:

Not only did they draw this keyboard in 1 pt perspective, they used like a ruler to draw all those letters so they were the same size. Some artist put so much time getting this nice and crisp and smooth...and then this happened.

And I’m pretty sure they died after that. I’m pretty sure this scene killed an artist.

It’s at this point that Yami kinda puts two and two together and was like “WE BOUGHT PLANE TICKET’S, YOU ASSHOLES.”

(It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen Mokuba smile like this, and it’s because he’s been hiding the fact for So Many Episodes that he and his brother prepped like hours ago to get this huge dunk on the rest of the party. He just wants to dunk on them so bad. Look at him. His company was bought today. BUT he gets to spend time with his bro dunking.)

Serious question, will Delta refund your flight if the Great Leviathan appears in the sky and tries to eat your soul to reboot the world from the ground up?

Of course not. They will never refund your flight. Trick question.

We switch back over to Rebecca and Duke, who have been absent from this show for so long, I actually forgot what Duke’s name was and had to think for like...5 entire minutes until I remembered that his nickname sounds like a poop and I was like “oh man, what name of poop would it be???” and then I recalled “Dookie. Yes. His name is literally Dookie. Wow that took way too long!”

Then we start a story arc I’d to call “My Kingdom For a Sharpen Filter” where, much like King Lear, the Yugi crew splays themselves on a battle field just strewn with different ways to sharpen an image, but can’t for the life of them use any other one, but the one deep in the heart of what is now DartzCorp.

And so yes, we are going to fly to San Fransisco, hop into ye Olde KaibaCorp, and log into proto-Noah in order to read a language that Arthur Hawkins can already read.

This is nonsense, but they put it there because it’s something to do. And honestly, it’s not a card game, so I’m down for this change-up. Lets go visit a version of Noah’s brain. At least they won’t drop an orichalcos for the 12th episode in a row.

On the way, Seto decides to try and egg on Yugi.

This backfires as you expect it will because Yami doesn’t freakin care. Like he’s not Yugi, he doesn’t care who the King of Games is, he harnesses freakin Dark Magic. The Wizard never cares if he’s King Arthur or not, and in fact, he probably prefers it....

..................Except in that spinoff where they had Yugi as a reincarnation of King Henry VII.

...................................................never mind.

And then Seto Kaiba says this actual line and I just...

WH.

WHHH

WHAT?

This entire show is just watching Yugi desperately cling to his scary ass hobbies. The tagline of Yugioh is “1001 reasons to go back to school and get a real job.”

What does Kaiba think Yugi does when he’s not around? Does he actually think Yugi attends school or sleeps at night or works an actual job? Like...he thinks Yugi has...NO HOBBIES.

Very interesting insight into what Seto considers a hobby and not hobby.

Especially since this Yami, who spends most of his spare time farting around his scary ass brain castle and getting lost. Occasionally he is forced on a date with Tea and wipes minds. That’s it. That’s all the things Yami does outside of hobbies.

Anyway, what is Dartz doing during all of this?

After this, Dartz pulls back the literal curtains on this room to reveal these candles that each hold the soul of someone he’s murdered.

There are not NEARLY enough candles for this segment.

A very brave man to have candles littered on the floor when his hair is down to his ass and all of his mooks have floorduster coats.

I really want to know what the local arts and crafts store thought when Dartz strode in there and bought every single tiny styrafoam skull during the Halloween sale and was like “can I put souls in these? You sell the kind I can put souls in, right?” and then immediately pulled out like a dozen 50% off coupons like a complete asshole.

Anyway, using this candle hocus pocus, Dartz uses the Orichalcos powers to take advantage of something Yugi did in the first episode. We distantly recall there was a giant eyeball in the sky--turns out if you bust up the eyeball with, lets say, a card that has a dragon on it, the eyeball will explode into many tiny Orichalcos pieces that will fall all over planet Earth.

So apparently Yugi didn’t save anyone at all when he busted that eyeball, because he instead set in motion Dartz’ evil plan to eventually use these many tiny Orichalcos pieces like the one seen here, to kill the hell out of people.

Good job, Yugi. Too bad you missed the Actual Bakura.

In fact, actual Bakura is probably the only one who survived this incident because I guarantee that Ryou Bakura is too busy eating all the contents of his fridge out of stress. He’s probably opened his window at this point, seen the crazy lights in the sky and in the street and was like “Blooooooody nope nopenopenopenopenope” and just locked the windows and doors, turned up Hercule Poirot to max volume, and stuffed his face with cookies.

(Or biscuits, I guess.)

WELL.

I don’t know how to tally that.

Yugioh not only broke the tally I was using to measure the distance they spent commuting this season, it also broke the tally on the amount of people who have died on this children’s show.

That’s a really big number.

We’ve had real duel monsters for a couple weeks but youknow...this time they’re extra, extra, extra real. More so than the last times. Also they’re all Orichalcos versions of their cards so their extra edge now. They’re the hot topic versions of what were already pretty hot-topic ass cards.

MMM. We come full circle, back at a dock, a warehouse, and some huge ass boat.

Right where we belong. Where all friends meet, where we can all finally be one.

Yugioh found one of the only cities that has a very famous and tourist heavy pier/warehouse district in it just so the Yugi gang could finally feel comfortable in their natural habitat. HOWEVER, there’s just one tiny problem in this scene, and it’s that it’s not overlaid with the actual soundscape of a SF pier, which is that of 100000 screaming seals

youtube

I don’t have a seal problem, you have a seal problem.

Anyway, the only healthy adults here attempt to follow the children into danger but someone on the animation team was like “we just lost the keyboard drawing guy to that capslock! We cannot lose any more interns to a crowd scene with 9 people in it and 2 dead bodies!” and they uh...

And we immediately eject Roland and whoever that weird sunglasses guy is out of the script. Mokuba gave them a longing glance as they helicoptered away. Maybe because he missed his Dad stand-ins that he went through such efforts to call in the first place. Or more likely, because Mokuba would have preferred to be on that helicopter and far away from whatever the hell is going to go down on this dock.

Honestly the rest of Joey’s storyline this episode is him going rogue because of Mai rage, and it both comes out of nowhere and also seems very on point for him.

Meanwhile, Rebecca’s unbridled rage towards Yami Muto is still low key hilarious to me.

Witness the only character here who thinks Yami should suffer actual consequences and witness Yami just appear to not give a single damn about it.

Nearly spat out my own drink watching this.

The...

...police...

...exist in this universe?

Anyway, while Tristan and Tea try to locate a payphone to dial 911, Seto and Yugi decide to invade Seto’s own company by going through an elevator that you have to reach through the sewers.

Straight up I don’t think SF even has sewers. At least, not in the sense that you can walk in em like New York or Paris or other cities that have sewers. Our sewer systems are very small cuz we got something called “liquefaction” which means our ground is so soft (and artificial--a lot of the land is fake), that when there is an earthquake, certain parts of the city will...liquefy. It’s Terrifying. We kind of...avoid going and building underground except in certain stable places. (like even BART gives me the heebies.)

I just have a very strong distrust of basements, caves and other underground places in general and it’s not because of spiders, or ghosts or whatever, I’m just afraid of faultlines. It’s like having an active volcano, but you just don’t see it, and we haven’t had a Big One since 1989 so...any day now (I mean, 2020 has been such redic content, that I think we’re finally ready)

Again, Japan has way more intense Earthquakes than we do, and yet they have a billion underground subways and very, very tall buildings, so like, this is mostly a big cultural difference between the two of us. And the bedrock. They probably have better bedrock than we do (honestly, I just have no idea).

MASTER HACKER SKILLS.

Almost as good as that time he hacked into Pegasus’ company by dropping a satellite on it. I’m starting to think Seto actually doesn’t know how to use a computer.

Anyway, Seto is faced with...real cards, real monsters, indisputable evidence, and he decides, it’s time. It’s time to finally face facts.

So, while these two are just flinging cards around willy nilly, Tea and Tristan are ...actually talking to police.

4 seasons. They’re actually doing it.

Although, TBH, they probably should have gone to the Japanese Embassy first? Just throwing that out there.

Ah Yugioh, the only kids show around that tells you point blank not to trust cops. Timeless.

U.S

In some weird underground earthquake hazard, Rebecca proves that she is smarter than Seto Kaiba. She’s maybe even the smartest person on this show. Nice that we gave her nothing to do this season but pine over Yugi who is already taken by Tea who he is also not even dating.

Not that I love Rebecca or anything, I actually have a hard time with her voice, but like...they really dropped the ball on Rebecca.

If she does end up joining Kaiba corp as their back up Felicity Smoak while Seto just runs around aimlessly punching stuff that really is just offbrand Arrow but with cards. And with slightly less resurrections.

So, lets get a gander at that computer.

We didn’t get to see Kaiba pull out 12 other discs to complete the installation process for these all these Hard Discs. Maybe the lure of throwing a very aerodynamic CD across the room like a paper card was so strong that his dev team forced him to switch to these defunct squares?

PS, I am a true millennial, OK? But, I don’t remember Hard Discs.

Hard Discs were SO long go. I stopped using these damn things in Elementary school. The last Hard Disc I ever touched was in college, when I had to put my art portfolio on a disc to submit it to my degree. I don't know even why. Everyone had a mac, so I knew no one’s computer in the department even...HAD a disc drive so it was like...whomst among you has this damn computer from 1997? Whomst among you is still using Windows 95? WHY would I put IMAGES on a floppy when I can just email them to you?

Anyway, I had to get a USB hard disc reader, and to get that reader, I had to call my Dad who had legacy software because he’s a computer engineer, and he had to mail it to me.

In that same portfolio review, PS, I also had to submit my portfolio as slides.

I didn’t even know where to produce slides so I had to ask all these old people and go to the last photo processing store on earth to get digital pictures turned into negatives and then turned into freakin slides.

SLIDES.

I honestly think they just did that to weed people out of the art degree.

Anyway, I tell you this story just to say that there is no way in hell that Kaiba was using a hard disc during the height of the CD era. We were CD or go home since 2000. We had pretty decent jump drives at this point. We had wifi. It was realllly bad wifi, but we had it. Your phone could connect to the internet. It would charge you 50 bucks, but it COULD connect.

Who on the Yugioh team DID this?

Anyway lets see these pictures that for which, we spent thousands of dollars in unused plane tickets, destroyed a Caltrain, killed 2 ancient Atlanteans (and their dog), killed 3 random mid-villains, walked across the entire Peninsula, crashed an international plane, and left both the plane and the train to rot gas fuel into the nearest lake which is right next to a ghost graveyard?

Yeaaaaaaaaaah!

Like he reads it and is all “They’re gonna resurrect Atlantis” and it’s like WE KNOW. Dartz and his hooligans have talked about starting their Utopia to reboot the world since Gurimo. Since Day 1.

Man.

Anyways, there was one plus to the pictures, and it was that Seto Kaiba recognized the Oricalchos logo.

just...

The Oricalchos logo is...

...This logo, Seto?

You...didn’t recognize...seriously? Not until just now? You have been inside of this logo, rearing to lose your soul to Alister 2 times, and he only recognized it...just now.

I mean Seto takes a while y’all. He’s a genius, but his memory is so, so bad, that he will Eventually get smart, but you have to wait until like episode 24. But he’ll get there. Just gotta be patient.

And, when he saw it, he wigged out in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

Y’all I feel like I’ve seen to many weird zooms on Kaiba’s crotch in this show. Or just in life in general, especially after that surprise fic. That’s all.

I don’t know why everything exploded, but maybe the logo is cursed in the same way as God Cards? I dunno.

Anyway, this is when Dartz shows up with his brand new dog.

So they run outside onto the roof.

Now listen, does every Kaiba Corp building need the same weird ass roof? Is it like a McDonalds?

Because I’m just picturing this type of roof in SF and I’m having a time.

Forgive me if I made this lemming joke already. He’s just stood on a cliff’s edge so many times I can’t keep up.

RIP Dragon Jet, who took us from S3-S4, you’ll always live on in our memory, you glorious, wasteful, beautiful death trap.

Seto and Yugi are fine by the way, they just kinda jumped out, as you do when you’re an immortal god possessing a small boy and a...whatever the hell Seto is.

It’s at this point we reintroduce Valon because Joey went rogue and has decided to take on Dartz by himself. This is what happens when Tristan leaves the party. You always need Tristan to hold back Joey by his armpits to keep him from fighting random people.

So I guess Valon’s gonna die next episode. That’ll be nice.

What’s great about this show is each arc is just watching each villain die. You know they’ll die. But...how much?

Anyway, that’s all for today. I’m still drawing a hell ton of stuff so I don’t know when the next update will be...but just now I haven’t dropped off or something. I’ll...eventually get to it.

And if you just got here, this is a link to read all of these in chrono order.

Anyway, I mentioned Hercule Poirot, (because watching a hell ton of BBC was how I spent time with my family when I was a kid, and my very Southern Grandma freakin LOVED Hercule Poirot) So here is the best subplot of that show, which is David Suchet eating stuff.

And which doesn’t want to embed for some reason. Probs can’t embed more than one video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17antzzJrzQ

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mybeloved73 · 4 years ago

Text

My name is Chelsea and I’m a ITU Nurse.

I’m also a newly qualified nurse - I literally left Uni last year and began my job in the September.

My background - I didn’t always want to be a nurse. I wasn’t cut out for that sort of compassion or care. I dreamt of being a PT, an athlete, anything that was sports driven.

Until my boyfriend had a bike accident, that then left him in ITU. He later succumb to his injuries and passed away. The nurses looking after him, changed my life. Shining light kind of moment - I want to be just like them kind of thing.

Granted it took me 4 years to build up the courage, battling my PTSD, severe depression and anxiety to even apply to uni. But I did it - and Sept 2019 I got my Pin as a registered nurse.

Now, if you 1) think covid19 was made up, a conspiracy or the numbers have been made up as a scare tactic or 2) you actually believe wearing a face covering will cause ‘respiratory arrests’ ‘acidosis’ blah... stop reading. Because this isn’t for you. Or even 3) you have the view of ‘its their job’ - back away from your screen.

You’ve seen in the news about the public sector pay rise? That nurses aren’t included, nor the junior doctors, physio’s etc (I use etc as there are so many people being forgotten in all this and it is used lovingly and not to cause offence)? Honestly, Im so glad that others are being recognised for their input and help during this - the teachers who put in extra work for children of key workers, who sacrificed their home life to entertain little ones every day and try give them the education they need and deserve, to the police, military - anyone receiving this recognition. Honestly you deserve it. And the NHS will not shadow that or take it away from you.

We agree’d to a 3 year pay deal, that had the options of being reconsidered earlier than the final date if there was a change in circumstances. Covid19 should really be considered as a change in circumstances. I mean being told that you’re already ‘unskilled’ and watching people clap to STOP pay rises... was hard enough. But to have everyone else recognised for their vital contributions and lay something that was agreed in 2018 - is inexcusable.

You realise that most nurses didn’t get to see your claps on a Thursday? That’s handover time. And due to covid19 if their handover time was earlier - they were usually late because of how busy it was and still missed it.

I saw one. Because it so happened I had come off of nights the night prior.

So! My life during covid19 starts off with the busiest winter that my hospital has seen in ITU. We have 10 beds. We are funded for 7/8? We had to open an escalation centre that we stole from our day surgery unit to give us a further 3 beds.

Which in itself is hard - looking after seriously sick patients away from your actual designated and designed ward and without the continuous presence of doctors.

That wasn’t enough.

We had to then stole half of the recovery room, which usually houses patients post surgery whilst they wake up.

Going up to 16 patients. Remember - at this point. I’m THREE MONTHS qualified.

Learning is hard, steep, and in-depth. You’re suppose to be trained over the course of a year as a newly qualified, with study days and help from mentors etc. I couldn’t attend some of those days because we didn’t have the staff to look after the most patients our ITU had ever seen.

Now I know ITU is hard. I picked it.

I knew what it entailed, well partly.

I have to maintain my patients artificial airway. They either have a tube in their mouth or in their throat.

They’re then connected to a ventilator.

Every single setting on that machine, every button - changes something drastically.

From the fio2, PEEP, PS, PC, TV, MVE, PEAK, RR, PF ratio, ... one button, one alteration or mistake... literally can stop this person breathing. Cause respiratory distress, arrest.. trauma? anything.

Did you know I have to move that tube in their mouth every hour to stop pressure sores developing in their mouth? And I still have to brush their teeth and give oral care?

I have to suction down their throat and clear their lungs? Or suction their actual mouth for extra secretions?

And record all this data hourly.

To ensure that this patient is comfortable with this tube... I have to medicate this patient.

I have to keep them in an artificial coma.

Titrating the drugs to their optimum levels.

Some are measured mg/hr, mcg/hr, mcg/kg/min..

some have limits on maximum dose per hour you can use.

Some have really severe side effects.

Such as noradrenaline. Which can literally cause your fingers and toes to become necrotic.

I have to monitor someone’s glucose - whether you’re diabetic or not, and correct it if needed with insulin or dextrose.

I have to give diuretics but not allow your body to become too negative, I have to give fluid challenges to ensure you’re not vascular depleted.

I can help your kidneys with the use of a dialysis machine. Literally filter your blood of toxins your body can no longer remove without help of a machine. This requires constant blood tests to ensure that you aren’t collecting dangerous toxins or you need additional support from the machine.

I can use a machine to check your cardiac output and interpret it to make sure that you have enough fluid vs a drug that’ll help squeeze your heart instead.

I can read an ECG and tell if you need additional supplements such as potassium. Do further tests for magnesium, phosphates etc. And deliver those.

I can feed you through a tube down your nose, and ensure you absorb it. But it’s okay I can give you medication to also help that - these require me to do daily ECGs though, and interpret the data of your QTC to make sure it’s not affecting your heart.

Now. If that’s not enough. Covid happens.

Now remember our record was 16 patients?

Try doubling that.

We worked in our ITU,

Escalation centre

Recovery - we took the whole thing.

Next - we took over operating theatres.

3 patients in theatre 6

3 in 5

3 in 4

2 in 3

We stole theatre staff, recovery nurses, ODPS, ward nurses, retired nurses, health visitor nurses, anyone we could relocate to help us.

March - I’m 6 months qualified.

I’m now the most qualified ITU nurse in my theatre.

I have people who have never looked after a ventilated patients before asking me for help. Please don’t silence my alarm if you don’t know why it’s alarming. I know it’s loud and annoying but it’s telling me everything I need to know with enough time before I need to panic.

Now - covid patients weren’t just sick. Weren’t just needing help to breathe. These patients were all sorts of ‘new’. Nothing made sense!

These patients COULDNT be ventilated. We needed to paralyse them to literally be able to take over their breathing properly! No amount of sedation worked! Their lungs were fibrous and acting like elastic under tension.

Side note - if your patient wasn’t sedated enough compared to paralysis - they could be silently awake, but completely paralysed. Knowing everything happening to them. But unable to do anything - not even breathe. Every time you start rocuronium you need to remember that. If you’re withdrawing treatment - TURN THE ROC OFF FIRST. And wait before you do anything else.

Back to it. They were so unstable that you try roll them, which we usually do 4 hourly to prevent pressure sores - they desaturated to numbers so low that you would usually see some hypoxia brain injury after.

We couldn’t roll these patients without risking that. So you know what. You don’t roll.

So we couldn’t protect their skin integrity. You just watch them, and feel guilty.

Nursing school 101 - pressure sores are PREVENTABLE. Roll your patient. Skin care and hygiene is your best friend.

Now covid went against everything a nurse knows and holds dear.

Our ITU never had pressure sores. Until covid. Some had grade 4’s.

Maggot therapy.

Vacuum dressings.

These patients were also clotting, and sending off clots to their kidneys, liver, heart, brain. Covid made your blood super sticky!!!!

People were having strokes whilst being sedated, going from fit to multi organ failure in days. I’m trying to save these people, knowing they could possibly wake up with complete left side paralysis? Never talk again? Never be them again?

Now you know about these past medical histories etc?

You realise what that is?

that it could be Type 2 diabetes?

Hypertension?

That was it for some.

None of this thinking they were super sick, with lists longer than my arm, and that’s why they didn’t make it. No.

Literally things that happen with age. Poor diet? That 120/80 you’re happy you got - THATS PREHYPERTENSION.

I was probably hypertensive the entire time with anxiety.

Did you know We had to use the old anaesthetic ventilators. None of us had used those before. Those big bellows you see in films going up and down rhythmically. Those.

That was scary.

I’m use to a single touch screen button (hello modern technology) to deliver 100% o2 if my patient needs it. This has a switch to a bag, a button, dials to titrate o2 with normal air. And if I didn’t monitor the crystals in the bottom my patient would retain their own co2 and I wouldn’t know why.

New found love for anaesthetists and ODPS - these machines are NOT designed for prolonged use. But they helped us keep our patients alive. By literally guiding us and helping us look after the machines so we could do our job.

Now. All of this is made worse by PPE.

I’m hot.

It’s hot.

And intense and I’m working hard because tonight, I have 3 ventilated patients. By myself.

I have a gown on.

2 sets of gloves

An apron

An FFP3 mask

A hat

A visor

And no air con.

But I’ve got this. I can’t do my hourly checks because I am one person.

My super sick patients now have 2 hourly because it is physically impossible.

Where are the other staff?

Sick.

You’re watching these people struggle to breathe on machines and then being told your close friends at work, your mentors, your seniors are spiking temperatures. Some being admitted to hospital. Some not being able to come back to work for weeks.

Some ending up on your ventilators. It’s okay. I’ve got this.

I’m an ITU nurse right?

CPR wearing that get up. Is TOUGH. 27mins. I cried that day.

We lost 3 patients in 12 hours.

I held the hand of so many people as I turned off their ventilators because their families couldn’t be with them and no one should die alone. No one. I tried my best.. and then once my day had finished, I had to come home to my dad who is immunosuppressed. Who doesn’t understand boundaries. “Kevin stay in the other part of the house!”

*knocks on bedroom door with dinner*.

Proning. What an experience that is. And doing it Daily. The complications of that were scary before you even approach the patient.

So I’m going to flip my patient - who has a tube down their mouth to help breath, who is on medication for sedation, paralysis, to keep their blood pressure up.. from laying on their back - to laying on their front.

Seems easy?

Well it’s not. And requires like 8 people.

8 people.

We don’t have enough people as it is. So we now develop a proning team made up of everyone.

There are consultants, there are experts in their fields, there are physios and then I don’t know who else.

Honestly I couldn’t thank these people enough. More people would have died if we didn’t have a proning team. But now, people spent 23 hours laying on their front. Pressure sores on their faces. Potential of going blind? New complications of not being able to breathe we never expected.

We are finally back into one unit now. I’m still less than a year qualified. And I’m still running on adrenaline expecting this second wave. Those still reading, I know you’re thinking that she picked this job.

She knew what it meant.

And you’re right! Give me those complex drug calculations and ventilators. Oh and the scrubs!

But a pandemic? I didn’t pick that. The world didn’t pick that.

Honestly thank you, to the ward nurses - your lives got flipped upside down.

The physios who became best friends.

Consultants who literally got down and dirty with us.

To the domestics who cleaned furiously for us.

OT’s To literally orientate our patients when they’re waking up like 70 days later.

Every

Single

Person

Who

Helped.

Oh communication team made up of medical students, who updated the families because... I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave my patient. Not like this!

Matron who literally had to facilitate all this, with people who knew nothing about ITU. Being in ITU. Looking after ITU patients. Whilst her own ITU staff were sick, in hospital, or newly qualified, or working to the point they broke.

To the countless companies sending food, goodies, moral support !! Oh my god that was incredible to come to after not having a break for 6+ hours ... mmm... food!!

Did you know they’re offering support for the nurses to stop PTSD, or anxiety or just to help up digest what we saw? Psychological support for just doing your job?

But it’s okay.

We got a deal in 2018 for the pay.

We got clapped thursdays.

We all know that’s not enough, but we will still turn up for work.

We can’t leave our patients.

We can’t strike.

They’ll always mean more to us than pay. And the government knows that. Abuses that.

540 NHS staff lost their life doing ‘just their job’ - today the NHS staff walked through London protesting, to be heard. To be listened to. To be acknowledged. To be paid fair.

Sign the petition for us. Because we aren’t just here for covid. We’re here for life.

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/316307

And just put your mask on - please - for that hour you go shopping.

I’ve been wearing mine since March 6th. 13+ hour days. Developed a nice grade one on my nose, my friends faces bleeding from using a rubber respirator....

And We’ll be like this for the foreseeable future.

Now that we have the stocks to do so anyways.

Oh and I’m pissed my graduation was cancelled! All that and I don’t get to wear the hat and gown. Bastard virus. (I understand there was more lost but humour me).

Signed, your registered ITU nurse. We will always continue to monitor.

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aphelioo · 5 years ago

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Quiet Festival Night

((another one shot based on a prompt from @sydneygremlins, thank you darling!!))

Geralt could see the glowing lights of the bustling city ahead in the darkening evening, having just rode in after fulfilling a contract. Thrown over the back of Roach behind him was the corpse of a Kikimora, a creature he found annoyingly common. He usually had to take a potion to fight well enough to kill it without incapacitating himself for a week, unless they were young and reckless, like the one strung over Roach now. To his side was Jaskier, loyally at his heels as usual. The feisty little bard had been with him for about thirty years now, but he had hardly seemed to age. There were a few indications, however; Jaskier had started to grey a bit -- nothing extreme, but noticeable to himself and the Witcher -- and had grown a short but thick beard that also housed streaks of grey. Aside from that, Jaskier had the same spring in his step as he did when he first joined Geralt. There were a few times, of course, where that spring died, and Jaskier would drag his feet to his next destination, usually leaving Geralt behind. Geralt had never forced him to stay, but had always wished it. It was selfish, almost cruel, but he was so used to his endless chattering and song that Geralt was unable to bear the crackle of fire and find sleep beyond his reach, and skip meals, sleep, company, to keep moving. Always keep moving.

He was dragged from his thoughts as Jaskier strummed a new ballad he was working on, based on their adventure last week. Geralt’s bravery when facing a powerful archgriffin, and Jaskier had nearly gotten himself killed because he had followed Geralt about twenty minutes after the Witcher left. He hadn’t yet seen such a beast, and it nearly killed him, but it was well worth the experience and the song. That was another reason Geralt tolerated Jaskier; his music and words grounded him, never letting his mind wander too far into dangerous territory.

“A griffin beyond measure, and Geralt took pleasure/

In cutting down the beast, after it tore through his minstrel/

The gold he’s paid is gone by morn, and-”

Jaskier stops. “Oh that’s bollocks, Geralt, I don’t think I can find a word to rhyme with minstrel.”

“Take it out of the story then.” A jab.

The bard gasped dramatically and pulled out his notebook, slapping Geralt’s thigh with it before he popped it open and scratched the last line.

“Well, I was going to sing about your kind act of spending all the coin you made to save my hide,” Jaskier snapped, but it, like Geralt’s jab, had no malice. They both knew what the other sounded like with venom on their tongue. “But now they get to hear about the minstrel’s sacrifice so the bloody slow Witcher could get a good stab in.”

Geralt grunted, but there was amusement in there. After thirty years, there was no mistaking it. The pair were a couple of unlikely friends, and Jaskier finally got Geralt to utter the word when he pried an apology for what happened on the mountain a couple years after the incident. Ever since, there was the ever usual playful banter, and Geralt slowly learned to relax around him. The Witcher would meditate in a more open area if he was with Jaskier, but it was more a symbol than anything; if Geralt were in any danger, his body would jolt from a meditative state and get him out of harm’s way, but Jaskier didn’t need to know that. Geralt showed his affections quietly, always making little excuses to get Jaskier a gift every once in a while, or allowing himself to let his walls down and let the bard protect him. He was one of the few people Geralt really trusted, aside from Yennefer, Ciri, and the other Witchers at Kaer Morhen.

Jaskier continued playing until they started to walk past houses and businesses, prompting him to play some more familiar tunes that he had nailed down decades ago. The bard’s presence made people a little less jumpy about the Witcher, if they were in a good town. Luckily, they seem to have struck gold. There are the usual dirty looks, but they don’t last long when Jaskier catches their eyes. As they approach the home of a local merchant, Jaskier slings his lute over his back and hops onto Roach, standing carefully and beaming with pride.

“Mr. Rorenshack!” he sang, clearly trying to charm their new friend. It had worked before; charming the people who paid them to get them to pay a little more. A dirty trick, but Geralt didn’t mind the extra coin. “We have your dastardly beast! And the kikimora too!”

A couple of ladies, relaxing on the neighbor’s porch, giggled at Jaskier’s jest. He winked at them before Geralt grunted at him, trying to get the bard to focus on the task at hand. As Rorenshack emerged with a pouch of coin and a smile, Jaskier hopped down from Roach -- who wasn’t pleased with him for the added weight -- and approached the merchant.

“I trust you can do whatever fun little things you folks do to kikimora bodies when we’re gone,” Jaskier purred, his hip jutting out to the side just a bit. He was tall, nearly as tall as Geralt, and towered over the small merchant, whose face was flushed. It was clear he fancied the bard. “In exchange for coin, of course.”

“A-ah, yes, of course!” he stammered, pushing the coin to Jaskier’s chest. Rorenshack turned to Geralt and moved forward, taking his hand and shaking it with a wide smile. “Thank you, Sir Witcher, many thanks! You’ve saved the lot of us, you have! The bard’s songs ring true!”

Geralt grunted, almost embarrassed. He didn’t like to be showered with praise by strangers. Geralt turned Roach and began to make his way to the stable he had seen when they were going through the town. Jaskier jogged alongside him, tossing him the coin purse heavy with their reward. Another grunt. Geralt was quiet, and Jaskier knew the Witcher was falling into his thoughts. As Geralt got Roach situated -- paying for the horse to be washed and brushed -- Jaskier took some of the coin to the nearby inn, disappearing into the crowd that filled the street. Geralt had seen banners and lanterns and other odds and ends that screamed festival. Geralt made his way to the inn, making a note that he should figure out just what the festival was all about. He opened the door and sighed softly, the last rays of light slipping through the window, nearly drowned out by the lantern light of the loud tavern. He immediately caught sight of Jaskier, the bard leaning against the wall with his tankard and watching the crowd. He met Geralt’s eye and the Witcher walked up to him with a hum.

“I’m surprised you’re not playing for them,” he hummed.

“It's a bit too crowded, and there’s already another minstrel here,” Jaskier said in a plain tone. He took another drink of his tankard before offering it to Geralt, who gladly took it. “There was only one room left, and it's just got one bed.”

“We’ve dealt with that before,” Geralt muttered behind the tankard as he took a drink. “It's autumn, after all, I believe this may be a Harvest Moon festival. Nice and cool out, might be nice for you to sleep next to a warm body.”

“I can do that without you, Witcher. You forget I can charm my way into anyone’s breeches.”

“Less work to sleep in the same bed as a Witcher when there’s no other choice,” Geralt retorted. “Besides, you won’t be wasting energy trying to please him.”

“I please you enough,” Jaskier teased, earning a jab from Geralt. “Oh, get over yourself, Geralt! You haven’t been so desperate to go to your lovely bard to ease your nightly desires even after weeks on the road, I doubt you’ll try to seduce me with your brutish ways tonight.”

“You’ll still be going to bed with a Witcher.”

It was Jaskier’s turn to elbow the Witcher, who had a proud smirk on his face. Geralt handed back the tankard, to which Jaskier scolded the brute for emptying his drink. The Witcher took the key and headed up to their room while Jaskier went to get them food and drink. The sky was falling to darkness, but the city was ever so bright. More lanterns were lit, and people danced and sang in the streets, celebrating some deities that they believed to influence the harvest. Geralt sat at the foot of the bed, staring out the window and humming. The moon was beginning to rise in the sky, its light filtering into his and Jaskier’s room. It wasn’t long before Jaskier came in and set the platter of food and drink on the bedside table, sighing loudly.

“That poor minstrel, he must be a bit overwhelmed,” he hums. “He’s doing well, but I’m sure he’ll sleep like a rock later.”

Geralt hummed, taking one of the pitchers and some of the food. He relaxed, especially when the bard settled in. They both looked out the wide window and people-watched.

“You know, I really do love seeing people like this. No one’s afraid. Everyone’s drunk and having fun. And here you are, sulking.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“You didn’t even glance at the ladies downstairs. And they weren’t anything less than angels.”

“You didn’t go to them either.”

The two men fell silent, the two of them eating and drinking their fill. Once Jaskier finished -- he had always been quick to finish his meals -- he got up to change into something more comfortable. He slipped on some soft breeches and a billowy white shirt with a frilly neckline /and wide sleeves, tucking the shirt in as Geralt looked back with a raised eyebrow.

“Why do you always dress like a pirate’s spoiled whore?”

Jaskier snorted and put his hands on his hips. “People want to hurt the Witcher’s companion,” he explained with a similarly raised eyebrow. “If I’m going to die in my sleep, I’ll die a beautiful death.”

Geralt rolled his eyes, but the thought of someone hurting Jaskier twisted his stomach. He knew people targeted his dear bard. They had before. He turned away, allowing the sadness to reach his eyes. While Jaskier couldn’t see his eyes, the bard knew his Witcher well enough. He climbed over the bed and touched Geralt between his shoulder blades, causing the Witcher to flinch slightly. Jaskier sighed softly and rubbed his back, scooting closer. His other hand found its way to Geralt’s shoulder, and he leaned his head against the Witcher.

“You shouldn’t speak of your own mortality so easily,” Geralt murmured, refusing to look at the bard.

“I know...I shouldn’t worry you. I only talk like that because I know you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me,” Jaskier whispered, squeezing Geralt’s shoulder. “I trust you, Geralt.”

Geralt’s jaw clenched, and he hesitantly reached up and gripped Jaskier’s hand.

“I can’t protect you forever.”

“I won’t blame you,” Jaskier reassured, his hand making circles on the Witcher’s back. “Come lay down, my dear Wolf. We’ll be just fine tonight.”

Geralt hesitated before he allowed the bard to pull off his armor and lay him down, murmuring reassurances to the Witcher. Jaskier laid down with him and pulled Geralt close, one hand on the back of Geralt’s neck. This was different from the other times they had shared a bed; usually the two of them would, at most, press their backs together to share warmth, or woke up to find Jaskier curling up against Geralt. This time, the contact was intimate and deliberate, and Jaskier was holding Geralt. Geralt’s thoughts were interrupted by Jaskier pressing his lips to th*/e Witcher’s forehead, which sent him for a loop. The kiss lingered, and tears welled up in Geralt’s eyes. He had always hid everything he felt behind a wall, and Jaskier had made a door and let himself in. Geralt clutched Jaskier close and trembled, earning some sympathetic pets to his hair.

“Oh, darling Witcher…” Jaskier murmured, his voice shaky. “I-”

Geralt stifled a sob, and Jaskier pulled away slightly to look down at his Witcher, and his heart shattered. Geralt refused to meet his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks. It was the first time he had truly cried for...well, as long as he could remember. He eventually met Jaskier’s eyes, and the bard wiped his tears away.

“This is stupid,” he whimpered, sounding weaker than Jaskier had ever heard him. “I shouldn’t be crying because of someone’s touch.”

“Geralt, it's okay,” Jaskier murmured, hugging Geralt and nuzzling his cheek. Now he was crying, and their tears mixed. “You haven’t gotten the contact you need, and I’m so grateful that you trust me and let me help you. I want you to be happy, Geralt. That’s all that really matters to me. Why do you think I’ve followed you for so long?”

Geralt grumbled and rubbed back, his nose pressing into Jaskier’s cheek lovingly. He didn’t want to hold back.

“Rest, dear wolf,” the bard murmured before he began to hum a soft tune.

Geralt melted into the touch of his friend, feeling a spike of guilt in his stomach. For a split second, he let himself pretend that they could spend nights like this forever. Jaskier holding Geralt and stroking his hair, singing the beast to sleep. He pushed those thoughts away and held onto Jaskier, allowing himself to drift into a peaceful sleep with Jaskier’s breath gracing his skin and lips pressing to his forehead whenever he stirred. There was a blissful understanding between them, and deep inside of himself, Geralt knew they wouldn’t sleep apart again for a long time.

#geraskier #witcher geralt #geraskier fanfiction #geraskier drabble

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latenightcinephile · 4 years ago

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#701, ‘Olympia’, dir. Leni Riefenstahl, 1938.

This is a very, very difficult film to write about. It’s tempting to write it off as simple propaganda, or to examine its failings as a documentary, and there are many people who have taken this approach to Olympia in the past. It’s often cited as the first film of an Olympic Games (although it isn’t), as a glorification of Hitler (more on that later), and as a dull repetition of sporting events (it most assuredly is not that, either).

The thing is, I quite admire Olympia, both as a documentary and as a piece of art. I think that Riefenstahl’s artistic prowess is often denigrated because she is perceived, rightly or wrongly, as the mouthpiece of the Nazi regime. But I’m inclined to agree with Taylor Downing’s argument that Olympia is not the result of a concerted propaganda effort. As Downing points out, if Riefenstahl had set out to make propaganda, a very different film would be the result. It’s hard to deny that Olympia is a colossal work of art, made in political circumstances that make it unsettling to admire. But I think admiration is the only appropriate response to the film.

(Most of my details come from Downing’s book on the film for the British Film Institute. If you’re interested in the processes involved in making Olympia, I highly recommend it. I’ll try not to steal too liberally from Downing’s ideas here.)

I’ll point out from the very start that just because Olympia wasn’t the result of a conscious attempt to propagandise, that doesn’t mean it isn’t propaganda by itself. Any film made under the rigours of the Nazi regime is going to reflect the values of that regime, both deliberately at the hands of various political actors and socially through the ideologies that Riefenstahl replicates uncritically. On a base level, the film shows no more footage of, or deference to, Adolf Hitler than any documentary about the Olympics would show to the leader of the host country. In fact, the film sets the record straight about some of Hitler’s rumoured excesses - he didn’t, as popular myth has it, use the opening ceremony to make a political or self-aggrandising speech, he just announced the games open, as was expected of him.

On a deeper level, though, the film is quite happy to ‘bread and circuses’ its way out of some of the worst types of propaganda. In Olympia, the 1936 Olympics are an opportunity to show a games unparalleled in history. These games, and the film about them, are only possible through the benevolent patronage of Hitler’s government. Riefenstahl was certainly talented at drawing further funds from the regime to make her films, and at dodging the restrictions imposed upon her by government factions that wanted her under their thumbs. But the people she made this film for were not stupid, and they were not blindly throwing money at her for no purpose. They knew the soft power a film like Olympia could have, and the kind of goodwill and mythology that it could foster.

Riefenstahl uses this kind of mythologising to represent the Berlin Games as the apotheosis of a long history. The first section of the film opens with the lighting of the Olympic flame, after some protracted and dignified shots of Greek ruins. Visiting the actual ceremony, Riefenstahl was somewhat distressed by the presence of the crowds ruining the profundity of the moment she had in mind. So she did what she would do frequently during the production of the film: she restaged it. The more grave footage she recorded for this event draws the lighting of the flame back into the depths of history, making the idea of a lineage from Berlin back to ancient Greece almost literal.

Riefenstahl has no qualms about restaging events throughout Olympia: she brings back the entire cast of the men’s pole vault finals to reshoot their contest the next day, and she films divers and marathon runners during training to get unusual angles and extra footage (in many of these shots, you can tell because the stands of the stadia are suddenly empty). At her request, the American athlete Glen Morris stayed several days after the games finished and helped her recreate events. Most directors these days would have some concern about using this type of footage - indeed, taking footage out of context is one of the main things we think of when considering the propaganda toolbox - but Riefenstahl was dedicated to creating a complete retelling of the Olympics and resorted to these measures when filming the original events was impossible. Beyond this she also wanted to create a film that was interesting on its own terms. Some of these restagings enabled her and her team of cinematographers to access viewpoints that would be impossible in actual competition, because the large cameras would actually impede the running of the events.

That said, there are some limits on what she was willing to do, and finding these limits tells us for sure that she was not interested in making direct propaganda at this point. Much has been made of Hitler’s refusal to congratulate Jesse Owens for his spectacular performances during the games, but Riefenstahl has no such compunctions. She’s fascinated with the movement of the athletes, the American champions especially, and doesn’t pay any less attention to Owens because of his race. (Side note: there’s a troubling undercurrent throughout Riefenstahl’s career of fetishising the black body, and it might be on display here. Either way, it’s interesting to note the love-hate relationships fascist regimes have with many different things.)

It’s also clear that Riefenstahl is enthusiastic about being able to tell an actual story, beyond simply relying on metaphor. Triumph of the Will is cinematically innovative, but it doesn’t have a story that she can draw on. The Olympic Games, however, have a set of narratives that Riefenstahl can refer back to: narratives of winning and losing, using a sporting contest as a representation of a wider cultural struggle, or the pastoral origins of ‘sport’. In this last regard, the openings of both halves of the film feature depictions of the classical ideal of sport: naked athletes performing aesthetically-pleasing activities in the open air, and a community spirit built around these activities.

Riefenstahl goes further, creating new narratives to activate otherwise boring events. Some of the running races, including Lovelock’s sub-four-minute mile and the British victory in the men’s relay, are shown in a single shot taken from the upper tiers of the stadium, letting the natural rhythms come forward. For the diving events, though, Riefenstahl abandons any sense of naturalism and breaks the events into components of an avant-garde mosaic, playing shots in reverse, cutting back and forth across the line of action so it appears divers are leaping towards each other, and filming so closely that there is no sense of where the ground is. Whatever Riefenstahl’s political leanings in making the film, she is clearly dedicated to making each element of the film as interesting as it can be,

The technical aspects of this film are truly admirable. During the process of filming, Riefenstahl’s team developed entirely new techniques of filming, dug pits next to tracks to get good shots of athletes’ faces during competition, relied on five different sizes of camera, strapped small cameras to runners, and devised a camera that could film above and below water. They borrowed an airship from the Luftwaffe. The rushes were reviewed each day, totalling about two hundred cans of film every day of the games. In addition, with the exception of Hitler’s opening speech, every single piece of sound in the film was dubbed in post-production. As Downing points, out, this would be a mammoth task with modern technology, but in 1936, every ten-minute reel of film had to be mixed in real time, from start to finish, and then processed for a day before you could even tell what the result would be like. The engineers invented several entirely new sets of audio filters to reduce ambient sound, and did this during post-production. The entire final mix took two months of twelve-hour days to complete. It practically invented the genre of the sports documentary. If this had been done under any other circumstances, it would be hailed as the greatest production in history. Instead, its reputation collapsed under the weight of history. Nobody wants to like a film made by the Nazis - no matter how innovative and interesting it is, it is permanently a smokescreen to put a happy face on an appalling and destructive regime.

I have been asked if a film like Olympia could be made today. I think the answer to that depends on whether you’re looking at the film as a sports documentary or a propaganda film. Pretty much every sports documentary since Olympia has used this toolbox, so in a very real sense, this film has been made today, many times, and has often claimed innovations that Olympia made as their own innovations. As far as propaganda goes, though, I don’t think you’d need to make this film. Olympia has a very subtle hand - its statements about the superiority of the Nazi regime are implicit rather than explicit. Contemporary regimes, though, have found that you can just say that kind of thing explicitly and it will often be accepted. I also think there are very few regimes that would bother to go to this kind of expense for a film.

Riefenstahl’s complicity with the Nazis has often been hotly debated, and I think the most likely explanation of her stance is this: she wanted to make films, and the Nazis wanted films made. That she was either unwilling or unable to deny their patronage, or that she actively embraced their beliefs, is perhaps the harshest truth. She was given the opportunity to be an innovative filmmaker. All she had to do was climb into the lion’s mouth, and her films would be remembered.

She climbed in. The lion made no promises about how or why she’d be memorable.

#1001 movies #leni riefenstahl #olympia #propaganda #long post

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