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daringyounggrayson · 3 years

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Could you do 25 or 30 for Bruce and Dick? I’d really like for you to make Bruce say those words to his son!

I think we would all like to see that! oh, and for this one, I’m mixing things up: Bruce took Dick in as his ward but never went on to adopt him.

25: “You know I love you, right?”

30: “I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

AO3

"Mr. Wayne!” a photographer calls, waving his arm toward their small group as they try to make their way inside. “A picture of you and your sons, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Sure!”

On cue, the four of them turn toward the camera with easy smiles.

“Oh, sorry sir.” The photographer directs this at Dick. “Could I just get his sons for this shot?”

Dick doesn’t blame the reporter, honestly. He was probably assigned to get pictures of the Waynes, and when you google the Waynes, Dick’s name doesn’t pop-up—at least, not under family. And it makes sense; he was never adopted, so he’s legally not part of the Wayne family. Dick’s relation is just a small, unimportant detail. And to outsiders, especially people outside of Gotham or people who simply don’t keep up with Wayne Family News, Dick looks like more of a family friend, if anything.

It’s an honest mistake, and Dick doesn’t take it personally. Unfortunately, that doesn't make it any less awkward.

Dick glances at Bruce, trying to decide what to do. This evening will be long enough as it is, and if Bruce would rather let it go and get through the photos as quickly as possible, Dick wouldn't blame him. And it’s not like Dick needs his face on another magazine.

Bruce tightens his hold on Dick’s shoulder, decision made.

“If you don’t mind,” Bruce pipes up with a charming voice, “I would like Richard to be in the photo. I did raise him for a decade, after all.” Bruce laughs to ease the tension, and Dick joins him to tell the photographer it’s okay.

The photographer’s eyes go wide, face going slightly pink. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. I, er, here—” he holds the camera up “—smile!” The camera flashes twice. “Perfect. Have a nice evening!” And then the photographer is gone.

“I think I’m going to run ahead,” Dick says. “Find me when you can.”

“Dick, you don't—”

“It’s fine, B. Seriously.” Dick grins.

Bruce frowns.

Dick shrugs and ducks away from his group, heading toward the building. He ignores the flashing of cameras and calls from the various photographers, and he ignores the three pairs of eyes that dig into his back as he goes.

oOo

All in all, the party was uneventful and the four of them excused themselves early after receiving an alert that Scarecrow had been spotted on the other side of town. If Scarecrow hadn’t been spotted terrorizing civilians with fear gas, Dick might’ve been able to enjoy the free ticket out of the gala.

“Shit,” Tim mutters.

“What?” Dick asks, not taking his eyes off of Scarecrow.

“Forgot to grab a new rebreather. I still have the busted one from the other night.”

Dick pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath before grabbing his own rebreather. “Here.”

Tim pushes it back toward him, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I messed up; I can deal with the consequences.”

“I’m offering you the solution,” Dick insists, pushing back. “We don’t have time to argue. Take the rebreather so we can move in.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need you to protect me like I’m,” Tim looks away, down, “like I’m Robin. Besides, I think we both know that I’ll be able to handle fear gas better than you.”

Dick clenches his jaw, then relaxes it. Not the time. “Maybe, but I’m in charge right now. So: take the rebreather or you’re playing look-out for the rest of the night.”

Tim’s head shoots up, eyes scanning Dick to see how serious he is. Tim takes the rebreather, shoving it into his belt. “Happy?”

“Thrilled. Let’s go.”

oOo

If anyone had to get gassed, Dick’s glad it was him. Even though he has an objectively bad reaction and treatment isn’t always effective, he has more experience and can deal with it better than his siblings. During and after. On top of that, Tim was and continues to be his responsibility; his top priority was getting Tim home safe. From those perspectives, it was logical for Dick to take the lungful of fear toxin.

Then there’s the selfish, probably more powerful perspective: Dick can’t stand seeing Tim on fear gas. The screaming, the tears, the things he says, the inability to comfort him and take the pain away. It’s awful to see once, and Dick’s seen it countless times, in real life and in nightmares. He’d do anything to avoid it—for Tim’s sake and, when Dick’s being honest, his own. He knows his family probably feels the same way about him, but that just means they’d act out of selfishness too.

Tonight, Dick had more say, so Tim got the rebreather and Dick got more than a lungful of gas.

“Sorry again,” Tim mumbles, passing Dick a fresh ice pack. “About the rebreather.”

Dick takes the ice pack and presses it against his right shoulder, which he agitated at some point during their fight with Scarecrow. “’S fine. Knowing you, you’ll triple check next time to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“No kidding,” Tim mumbles, running a hand through his hair. He stifles a yawn. “Need anything else?”

“Nah.” Dick starts reciting pi in his head, trying to drown out the voices he knows aren’t real. “Get some sleep. And good work tonight.”

Even with the gassing, he and Tim were able to take down Scarecrow fairly easily. It’s nice to know that the two of them can still work well together, even when the circumstances aren’t entirely ideal.

“Thanks, you too.” Tim bounces on the balls of his feet and fails to stifle another yawn. This time, Dick yawns too. “You don’t want company or anything?”

“I’m good. Besides, I’ll probably just try to sleep until Alfred is happy with the blood work.”

Tim shrugs and takes a few steps backward. “If you change your mind.”

“Night, Timmers.”

“Night.” Tim turns around and makes his exit.

Dick throws his good arm over his eyes and tries to sleep.

oOo

Unconsciousness comes in waves, broken by adrenaline spikes and Alfred or Bruce checking on him. But no matter his consciousness status, Dick’s reality is shadowed and manipulated by voices and figures, hallucinations and lies that feel like absolute truths. It’s hard to tell the difference between sleep and wakefulness, but the shaking is a good tell. He doesn’t usually shake in his nightmares.

He's in his room, lying in his bed and shaking. He doesn’t remember coming here, but that doesn’t say much. He’d been having a dream, something that felt real, but wrong. Something adjacent to reality.

A camera kept flashing in his face, the photographer morphing into something less and less human. And Bruce, Bruce had been there. Yelling at him, telling him to—

No. That hadn’t happened, and now that he’s awake, Dick can barely remember the lies.

Dick kicks at his sheets, trying to reach the cool air above them. At first it’s a relief, but soon it’s not enough because he’s hot and sweaty and something keeps telling him to run. He glances out the window, trying to figure out if he could survive the fall—

No. He’s fine. He’s fine.

Dick pushes himself upright, takes some deep breaths, tries to recite pi.

He jumps at the knock on his door.

“Dick?” the door creaks open to reveal Bruce, who enters the room before Dick can answer. “What are you still doing here?”

“I—” Dick feels hot, his palms are sweating again and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest, trying to escape. He blinks, twists the skin on his forearm until it hurts.

Bruce is in front of him, sitting down on the bed. “I trained you to be a detective. Can’t you piece together the clues? You’re not wanted. Get out of my house and stay away from my family.”

Dick shakes his head, fists his hair. The room feels like it’s getting smaller, twisted and darker. Louder. Wrong. This is a sign, but Dick can’t remember for what. “But you—no. You trusted me with Damian, you said—”

What had Bruce said? He’s a master manipulator when he wants to be, needs to be. He might’ve trusted him with Damian, or maybe, just maybe, he was only trying to protect Alfred in case Damian had been given orders to assassinate them. He’d already attacked Tim, after all, and keeping that fact in mind, Bruce would have needed to consider safety and who he’d be willing to lose in order to protect someone else. Dick’s death and its repercussions would have felt minuscule if it meant Alfred would be saved.

Hands tug at his wrists. It’s three fourteen. The voice is lying.

“Shh. Take a breath.” Dick tries, but it’s like his chest has stalled. “Tell me how many posters are in your room.”

“There’s—”

“Take them and go. I don’t want any trace of you left in this house.”

“Dick, you’re alright. Take a breath.” Hands are on Dick’s shoulders, trying to restrain him. He brushes them off, tries to get to the window. “I’m out of patience. I won’t be subtle any longer—I’ve regretted taking you in from the moment you moved in. Go!”

His fingers barely brush against the window’s lock before he’s slammed into the ground. His shoulder pops, making him grunt.

“You’re not thinking clearly. Focus. Wait it out.”

Dick struggles against the weight on top of him, but it doesn’t give, not even when he resorts to biting. The hands simply shift from his chest to his stomach, and his attacker doesn’t even make a sound.

The voices in his head build up. There are millions, all shouting conspiracies at him, all of them sounding too true. His heart pounds so hard that it must be bruising his chest, and he’s so hot that his brain must be about to melt. And, and—he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He’s going to die. This is it—he’s going to die.

A hand forces his head down, and it’s not until then that he realizes he’s been slamming it against the ground in an attempt to silence the voices.

“Shh, shh. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“Leave! Jump out the window, you’d be doing everyone a favor!”

Dick tries to lift his head again, but the hold is firm. There’s not enough room to hit it against the ground, there’s not enough room to shut the voices out.

“No one will miss you!”

The familiar feeling of a needle slides into his arm.

“Shh.”

Something happens. The room shifts, he shifts, and he realizes that he’s no longer shaking. It’s a sign.

The hallucinations shift into a nightmare that feels too real.

oOo

Dick wakes up to nausea and a headache. He tries to move his hand to rub at his head only to find that he’s been restrained. Bad night then.

He opens his eyes and turns his head. There’s an empty chair by his bed and the bedroom door is cracked open.

“Bruce,” he calls.

Damian steps into view, pushing the door open a little wider. The quick response tells Dick that Damian has been listening from the hallway. “Father is answering a call from Kent. Would you like me to collect him?”

"It can wait.”

Damian still hasn’t entered the room, and it makes Dick wonder how much he’d heard last night, how much last night has to do with the distance, the hesitance. He doesn’t remember seeing Damian at all, but he probably came back when Dick was still in the Cave. And even if they hadn’t seen each other, it’s not like Dick’s bedroom is soundproof.

“Everything okay, kiddo?” He can remember Bruce having a handful of especially bad reactions to fear gas from when Dick was a kid—they’d been terrifying, seeing Bruce like that had made them terrifying.

“Of course. You are the one who was incapacitated.” Damian tugs on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, pulling it halfway down his hand. “But you are alright now?”

Dick quirks his lips into a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Good. I imagine last night was quite difficult,” Damian begins. “Titus woke up several times.” Damian tugs on his sleeve again, he looks like he wants to ask something.

Damian’s head turns abruptly, and whatever he sees causes him to take a step back. Into the hallway, he says, “Richard is awake.”

Now that he’s paying attention, Dick can hear Bruce’s footsteps. Bruce pauses outside of Dick’s bedroom, and he and Damian exchange words in quiet voices that Dick can’t understand. Then Bruce steps inside and closes the door behind him.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks.

“Lucid,” Dick starts. Bruce tilts his head, expectant. “Not great overall, and I still feel a little on edge, but I think the worst of it is over.”

“Hnn.” Bruce looks him over for a moment, trying to confirm Dick’s self-evaluation. He must pass because soon Bruce is taking off the restraints.

“Did I . . .” Dick tries to think back to last night and work out what was nightmare and what was hallucination and what was reality. “Did I try to jump out a window last night?”

“Yes. I had to hold you down until a sedative was administered. After that, we decided it would be safer to use restraints until the toxin wore off.”

Dick sits up as the last of the restraints are removed. He stretches his ankles and wrists. “Did the antidote not work or something?”

“It either wore off early or the toxin was stronger than usual. Possibly both, considering how you reacted to additional doses,” Bruce explains.

Dick frowns. “How many doses did you give me?”

“Three. You probably won’t need a fourth, but we’ll check your blood in a few hours to make sure that the traces still in your system are gone, or at least decreasing.”

Dick groans and slides back down against his pillow, draping his arms over his face. The fear toxin antidote, while helpful, isn’t without side-effects. With three doses, those effects will stick around for days.

Bruce, the bastard, has the audacity to chuckle at him. Dick blindly throws a pillow at him, smiling when he hears it meet its target.

Then, “Are you hungry?”

“Not even a little.”

Bruce runs a hand through Dick’s hair. “Sleep.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

oOo

Dick wakes up alone again, but this time the chair is gone and the door is completely shut. It’s a good sign, and since Dick isn’t currently disoriented, very much preferred.

It’s much later in the day now, a little past noon, but he knows he could very easily close his eyes and sleep for another few hours. Possibly until the next morning. But to his misfortune, his stomach growls in protest.

With a dramatic sigh that no one can hear, he gets out of bed, quickly showers and dresses, and goes downstairs to find something to eat.

"I was just about to check on you," Alfred says when he spots him entering the kitchen. "How are you feeling?"

Dick shrugs. “Tired.” It’s a side-effect of the antidote, but the nightmares probably hadn’t helped. “Did you guys have lunch already?”

“It would seem that everyone has gotten a rather late start to the day. We were just about to settle in for a brunch of sorts.”

“Do you need help?” Dick asks.

Alfred points toward a tray of what looks like buckwheat pancakes. “If you could bring that tray into the dining room, please.”

Dick hums and grabs the tray, carrying it into the dining room with Alfred behind him. He’s just setting the tray down when Titus storms in, running into his legs with a force that threatens to knock him over.

He takes a step back with a small laugh, reaching down to pet Titus. His tail thumps against the ground as he takes a seat on top of Dick’s feet.

“Master Damian!” Alfred shouts, setting a bowl of fruit down on the table.

“What’s up with you, buddy?” Dick asks the dog as he bends down to pet him better. Titus doesn’t usually tackle him, especially not when they just saw each other the day before. “What’s goin’ on?”

Alfred tsks to the room at large.

“Yes, Pennyworth?” Damian asks when he eventually reaches the room.

“What have I told you about animals in the dining room, especially during meal times?”

Damian rolls his eyes, prompting another “Master Damian!” from Alfred. Dick almost laughs, but the adult in him tells him to stand up and keep his mouth shut.

“Titus, come,” Damian says.

Titus whines.

“Titus, come,” Damian repeats.

Titus obeys, tail low as Damian leads him out of the room.

“And please gather the others before returning.”

Damian mumbles something under his breath that Alfred claims to have heard. Despite the resistance, Tim comes into the room a minute later, so Damian must’ve done as Alfred asked.

“Morning,” Tim says. He juts his thumb toward the hall. “What’s Damian mad about?”

“Oh.” Dick huffs a small laugh. “Titus ran in here and Alfred kind of went off on him.”

“Ugh, and I missed it? Bummer.” Tim takes a seat next to him and steals a piece of fruit from the bowl. “Feeling any better? Bruce said you had a rough night.”

Sometimes a little fear toxin exposure can be so mundane and minuscule that it isn’t mentioned the following morning. Dick wishes this was one of those times.

“Yup.” Dick taps his fingers on the table. “What happened to your ankle? You didn’t report it last night.”

Tim looks down at the ACE bandage wrapped around his left foot. “Oh. Just an old injury that started acting up this morning. I can still kick your ass at sparring later, though.”

Dick snorts and grabs one of the buckwheat pancakes, deciding he can’t wait any longer. “You wish.”

oOo

Breakfast is uneventful, aside from Dick literally falling asleep on the table. Bruce shakes him awake after everyone’s finished eating and then drags Dick down to the Cave to check his blood levels. Titus joins them, pressing himself against Dick’s legs and nearly tripping him as they make their way down the Cave’s stairs.

One blood test later and they learn that the toxin levels haven’t budged. Bruce decides to give him another dose of the antidote.

“Fourth time’s the charm, right?” Dick says.

“Hnn.”

Bruce sets a timer on his phone, just like he used to do in the early days. Draw blood, antidote, set a timer, draw more blood. That had been the routine for so much of his life.

Although, Dick supposes, they hadn’t really had antidotes back then; they’d had attempts at treatments. Desperate attempts to manage symptoms. There was no testing to guarantee their effectiveness or safety, and their chemical makeup had been based purely on theory and desperation. It was better than nothing, but it was risky, so they took precautions: monitoring each other not only for effectiveness but also for the inevitable side effects.

Dick will never forget the time an “antidote” caused his throat to swell up and chest to stall. The timer had only had a minute left, too—they’d increased the time after that, and Dick hadn’t complained about having to wait the whole time for almost a year.

These days, monitoring isn’t always part of the routine, and when it is, it’s mostly to check for effectiveness. But since this is Dick’s fourth dose in a relatively short timeframe, his risk for adverse effects is higher and he needs to be monitored to make sure he doesn’t keel over. Bruce will probably force him to stay at the manor until all side effects of the treatment subside, longer if new side effects arise.

“Have you been able to get any restful sleep?”

Dick jerks as he’s pulled from his thoughts. “Uh,” he starts, needing a second to process what Bruce just said. “No. Not really, no.”

“Someone can patrol in Bludhaven while you recover.”

It’s an offer, Bruce trying to be helpful. Dick knows that, but something makes it feel like an order, proof that Bruce thinks he’s incompetent.

“I’m fine on my own.”

Funny how Dick’s still trying to prove that, after all these years. He remembers when he was eight and first moved in with Bruce, how he’d been adamant about not needing a parent, not needing Bruce, but he became attached anyway. He’d told himself Bruce was a want, not a need, but that hadn’t been true, not in the early days.

Then things shifted. He grew up and no longer needed Bruce, but he’d wanted him. Dick had lied to himself again, telling himself that Bruce was the last person he wanted. The lie was easier to believe on some days than on others, but it had been even harder to convince himself that Bruce felt the same way. That even if Bruce didn’t need Dick, he wanted him.

That feeling of uncertainty, insecurity, had been with Dick since he was a kid, and it had persisted and worsened as he’d gotten older. It had been exacerbated after Two-Face nearly killed him and Bruce promptly fired him from being Robin. He was twelve and lost back then, and in what he now knows was just his twisted, hurt kid-brain, he’d convinced himself that Bruce didn’t need nor want him, as Robin or anything else.

Back then, he’d been certain that pity and guilt were the only things stopping Bruce from tossing Dick out onto the streets. He’d felt like a burden, and he’d hated everything about his life in those moments. So, he’d done the only thing he could think of—he ran.

And Bruce—Bruce didn’t chase him.

That was—maybe is—the important bit, the part that Dick still thinks about. Not the initial rejection, not being fired—that Bruce didn’t come after him.

After all, that’s what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? For Bruce to prove him wrong, for Bruce to chase after him, fight for him. To want him.

Bruce fought for Jason, then for Tim and, eventually, Damian. It’s clear that they are and always will be wanted, and Dick knows it’s stupid, but he doesn’t always know if that’s true for himself. At the end of the day, his brothers all have Bruce’s name, and all Dick has is a man who stopped being his legal guardian when he turned eighteen.

Dick is useful, even needed on the rare occasion, but he’s not always sure that he’s wanted. And he desperately needs to be wanted.

“Something’s . . . bothering you.” Bruce’s brows are furrowed, searching Dick’s face and trying to find the clues that will tell him what went wrong and where.

Dick scratches behind Titus’s ears, looking at him instead of Bruce. “Just the toxin.”

“Hnn.” Bruce sits down next to Dick, grunting slightly as he settles. “I imagine that the photographer’s comments last night didn’t help.”

Sometimes Dick hates how well Bruce knows him.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Maybe. But fear toxin twists things, and it’s been known to draw on recent events, especially the latest versions.”

Dick says nothing, just nods in acknowledgment as he attends to Titus.

“Dick, you are my family, in every sense of the word. And I . . . I was bothered by the comment last night that implied otherwise.”

Bruce reaches over and squeezes Dick’s knee, and Dick wonders how much he’d said last night when the fear toxin was in control.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just—” Dick sighs, leans his head against Bruce’s shoulder, squeezes his eyes shut. “Sometimes I don’t.”

Bruce shifts. He cups the back of Dick’s head and pulls him toward his chest, pressing a kiss into his hair. “I love you, okay? And you are wanted here. So, so wanted.” Bruce holds him in a tight hug and traces circles into his hair. “I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

Dick hugs him back and nods into his chest. It doesn’t fix everything, but it makes it better. And sometimes that’s all anyone needs.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #nightwing #batman #red robin #robin #batfamily #fear toxin #elizabeth writes

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postapocalyptic-cryptic-hold · 4 years

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Writing Tips: Concussions Edition

In keeping with my typical style, this post is not about the medical facts of concussions, as you can google those yourself pretty easily. Instead, it focuses on the more writing-oriented aspects of head injuries, as well as details that require some first hand knowledge to get right. I’m a hockey player, so in my day, I’ve both seen and had some nice bonks to the head to draw from. I’ll start with the hits themselves and then move into the immediate aftermath, and finish up by touching briefly on long-term effects.

The sounds of a concussion are surprisingly varied, and depend both on location and perspective. If you hit your head on something hard like concrete or a gym floor, you will hear a crack like something brittle breaking. You may not focus on the sound for very long (or possibly not notice it at all) but those around you will definitely hear the same gunshot-esque crack. On softer surfaces, like firm dirt and grass, the sound of your head hitting the ground will be more of a konk sound, both to you and those around you.

When you hit your head, it will probably bounce. If you’re not too out of it already, you will feel this and it is kind of funny. In my experience, you get maximum bounce from hitting grass or hitting a hard surface while wearing a helmet, and minimum bounce from direct skull-to-concrete action.

If you hit the ground shoulders or back first, the momentum from your fall will whip your head into the ground, making the impact to your head worse than the initial fall. You can also hurt your neck like this. This motion will be dramatic enough to be noticed by outside observers.

Hitting your head fairly lightly doesn’t usually hurt right away. There will probably be a moment of shock before a wave of pain comes, originating from the point of impact and sweeping through your head.

Light hits to the head (which I will now refer to as non-concussion hits) can still cause a significant amount of pain and disorientation. It may take a little while to accurately judge how hard you actually hit your head, as it is a sensitive region of the body. If the hit was a non-concussion hit, however, the original wave of pain will move through your head and fade away soon after.

Hard hits (concussion-causing) are a bit different. Those might start hurting right away, though not in a way that registers as pain to you. You might indeed see bright lights and blurry images, though they probably won’t seem like the cartoon kind. It’s more of a look like you’re still moving very fast, even though you’re still.

In that same disorienting time period, you probably won’t be able to tell what you’re doing or what kind of position you’re in. Your brain is scrambled and your body is in high-alert. For a good panic-inducing ten seconds or so, you will be living in a world of extreme pain, bright colors, blurry images, and confusion. The best way to describe it is that sensations register in their most simple forms. Someone yelling to you will simply register as sound. Nothing more specific. Just sound.

From the outside, this is a very distinctive look. Someone who has just hit their head will probably curl their arms around their head instinctively, balling up to protect themselves. They may seem completely panicked and unreachable for a little while, and they’ll need some time to process what happened.

Now, there is another level of head injuries: the ones that knock you out. If you get hit hard enough, you might just briefly black out. People around you probably won’t notice unless they know you well (example: I can tell right away when one of my teammates has passed out, but for another girl, I wouldn’t know), and it doesn’t seem like a big deal. If you manage to get up after this, it’s probably because you have no idea what’s happening. You won’t feel any pain. You won’t feel or think much at all for a little while, actually.

If someone is severely concussed (the brain injury kind) they might be in and out of consciousness for a while. They’re not totally out, but they might as well be. This is very dangerous, and you should call emergency services.

Now it’s time to get into the aftermath of a head injury. Not the medical treatment, but the much later stuff. Someone with a history of concussions is much more likely to get one again. That’s fairly common knowledge. What’s not is the fact that those same people may react differently to even light hits to the head. What may seem like a simple tap to you could cause them extreme pain for several minutes at a time. The more times you get hit, the longer it takes you to recover.

Now, let’s talk about writing experienced characters. In the same way a wrestler can tell their weight without a scale, someone who is used to head injuries can probably tell right away if their injury is severe. They know all the signs. They don’t need to wait for the bump.

Fight scenes and concussions make good combos, especially when you bring in experienced characters. A character who is focused on their own safety or some goal will probably spring right back up from a non-concussion hit or even a light concussion-causing hit. There will be a moment of disorientation, sure, but after that, their first instinct will be to run for safety. Get somewhere safe ASAP so you can assess the injury. This occurs almost unconsciously. When I hit my head in hockey, I’m at the bench almost before I know what’s happened.

However, you cannot “fight through” a major head injury. This is something I see a lot in fiction. No matter how badass you are, there comes a point where you just can’t get up, and even if you can, you’re useless. It’s not about pain tolerance or any kind of toughness, because concussions aren’t normal injuries. When you hit your head hard, your world goes away for a little while. You’re in pain, you’re confused, and you can’t really control your own body. There’s no getting up from that, at least not right away.

Hope you guys found this helpful! I’ll be back soon with more whump writing tips, turning my hockey playing into creativity.

#whump #concussions #whump trope #whump scenario #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #writing tips #author #creative writing #fiction #whump prompt #head injury #head injuries

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purplerose244 · 3 years

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My thoughts on Seabound!!! 🌊🌊🌊 (4/4)

Here we are! What a journey, and while perhaps this season wasn't at MoM level it was REALLY good, with great new villains/allies, great little throwbacks and an awesome story! 🤩

How to get this was very good to great? Give me a very good ending Seabound!! 💕💕

Alright, here we go!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

I genuinely got too much into this remaining four episodes and forgot to put any general thoughts 😅 So you'll see me rambling at the end, see you there 😉

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

This title really summarize my feelings so far, like, I'm seriously wondering how it will move on from now, but I do expect the outcome to be CRAZY 🤯

Aaahhhh, yep, the one in Shintaro is a fake 😅 I wonder when did the change happen? How did Kalmaar pulled that off, wow

I'M SORRY WHY ARE WE PUTTING THE TITLE SCREEN WITHOUT THE INTRO?? THAT'S A FIRST EPISODE STUFF AND IT HONESTLY SCARES ME??? It reminds me of Winds of Change too and that episode was WOW 😭😭😭

Heeeeyyy, it's youuuu... huh... *watch scribble on hand* google snake guy, huh... Glucose... yep, good old Glutine and everything 😅

Are we having a "I may have made a mistake being evil" with this guy?

Jay: ah, Prime Empire! I was in that game you know! I fought for my life and the ones of all of Ninjago and I've seen my best friends and the love of my life die before my eyes... good times 🙂

Jay and Nya having fun at DDR has to be one of my favorite thing, they are so in sync and so lovable ❤💙❤💙

DID THEY ACTUALLY PUT THE JAYA SHIP NAME INTO THE SHOW??? OMG GUYS THE FANDOM IS TAKING OVER THE SHOW AT LAST!!! 🤯🤯🤯 The electric Jaya, heeeyy, niiicee 😎😎😎

HOW CUTE CAN YOU BE

MY SHIP 💙❤💙❤ They even gave each other high gives... this is neat, and it means something awful will happen right 🙂

Commissioner: he's saying something about a giant snake... and the end of the world... didn't we already have something like that?

Okay yep, he did the trick while fighting Nya, dang Kalmaar is sneaky! Not too shabby... but I gotta say, the summoning of the Great Devourer was a lot more dramatic 🤣🤣 Props to the serpentine, still my favorite snakes 💪💪

Wojira seems to be a little smaller than the Devourer maybe? His head way bigger than the bounty, while hers is not that massive even in comparison with Kalmaar

I might be wrong but at first glance, I stand by my opinion and by the superiority of the OG giant snake 🤷‍♀️

Yep Glutine guy did have a change of heart, better late than never 🤷‍♀️

You're telling me that Jay doesn't do engineering anymore, okay... HOW IS KAI A BETTER SOLUTION??? 🤣🤣🤣 Lol look at the messy brothers, love Lloyd and Kai so much I miss them interact 💚❤💚❤

Thank you Kelly for the alert 😗

It makes me wonder if they actually do have simulations of evacuations often, it would be pretty smart considering the city 🤷‍♀️

OKINO IS THERE HI DUDE!!! 😍 I hope he's doing great! 🥰🥰

Gail Gossip! Been a while!

WOW, this is going Deluge like, my first Spinjitzu Master! 😱 How... how do we go with three episodes from here? Like, I'm guessing Nya will have to do what Nyad did before her (which TERRIFIES me), so are they going to struggle trying to find another way? IDK BUT I'M IN LET'S GO!! 🤯

ASSAULT ON NINJAGO CITY

Alright, pretty straightforward title, let's see what we got here!

Tourists?... that actually makes sense, I mean, I would want to visit all the places where history was made on this island 😍 Aww nice to see they remember the battle against Garmy of Hunted, also that it is known that Jay was the one who faced Unagami 👍👍

DARETH!!! 🤎🤎🤎

Where have you been you knucklehead, I've missed you! 💕 I think I've last seen him in a commercial from the Fire Chapter?

This is a terrible guide 😵 Not knowing the brown ninja? Owner of the dojo the Green Ninja had trained in? Brief commander of the Stone Army? Master of makeup and puffy potstickers? Unforgivable, someone fire this woman ASAP 😡😡

LOOK AT DARETH TAKING CHARGE!!! 🤩 He's right, he should get involved every once in a while, come on guys!

Ah okay good, I'm not the only one struggling with that google snake name 😂

Yay Bentho is fully integrated with the team! He is a great addiction, like, I know he'll probably take the throne at the end or something but I do hope we'll need his help again in the future! 💙

Sometimes I forget how much I love Kai and Zane interacting 🤣 The brainiac and the airhead 🤍❤🤍❤

Oh right, Cole came back from Shintaro! So... now in this extremely secret city there is a fake amulet hanging into a highly secured place... how is it always Shintaro the keeper of flukes? 😂😂

A bath as a boat but it has a whole 😂😂 I love this show's randomness

What ears are they supposed to cover 😅

I LOVE THIS ATMOSPHERE!!! 😍😍😍 Between the gray sky of storm and the sea underneath, this is the perfect scenario for Wojira and it's not even forced! I love how they are handling backgrounds for Ninjago recently, I really hope it gets as good as in the finale of Prime Empire 💙💙💙

AAAAAAHHHHHhhhhh okay for a moment I was scared Wojira was going to eat Jay 😅 After The Island this is already the second time Bluebell risks it... STOP

WHY THE CLIFFHANGER!?!?

NUUUUU WHAT NOW??? 😱😱😱 We have two more episodes, how is this going to end? I DON'T KNOW AND I REALLY WANT TO PLEASE GIVE ME A GOOD FINALE SEABOUND!!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

NYAD

I AM SCARED FOR MY WATER LILY OKAY

Daaaang she can just float on that? She got super good at controlling water! Now I want her and Kai just randomly flying around with their powers 😂😂 Kai got missiles in his hands come on 🔥🔥🔥

JAY CAN YOU LET ME WORRY ABOUT YOU GUYS ONE AT THE TIME??? 😱

What would Kai do? WHAT WOULD KAI DO?? DID YOU DECIDE YOU WANT TO DIE JAY WHY WOULD YOU THINK OF HIM??? ... although technically Kai is the only one with Jay who didn't straight up die before coming back to life in a dramatic moment... huh... Kai might be the most reasonable choice after all 😅

We grew up from Ninja never quit to NINJA AREN'T IDIOTS AND KNOW WHEN TO GET THE HECK OUT 😎😎 Even our motto got a character development 💪

JAY NOOOOOOOO 😱😱😱😱

BENTHO YAAAAAAASSSS 🥳🥳🥳🥳 Did I ever say that I love shark boy? BECAUSE I FREAKING DO!! 💙

Master prankster Wu once again, take that empty ship Calamari head 😎 Although the poor bounty doesn't deserve to get destroyed as many times as it did until now, it's my favorite ship... pun intended 😜

Ah more ninjajan, wait a moment

"Auto Pilot". Fair enough, although I was hoping for a "psych" or something 😂😂

NO WAIT NO WHAT THE HECK!!! I THOUGHT JAY GOT SAVED HE INHALED WATER??!? BLUEBELL NOOOO!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

But Cole running to his best friend immediately? HECK yes 🖤💙🖤💙

NYA CARRYING HER BOYFRIEND BRIDAL STYLE THIS IS THE RIGHTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN!!! ❤💙❤💙❤💙❤💙 Gosh this season gave me amazing Jaya moments, I've been fed 👌👌

Okay Lloyd pacing back and forth? Kai already mad at their enemies? All the guys eager to help Jay? MY FAVORITE NINJA FAMILY BABY!!! 😎😎

I NEED A MOMENT 😭

Oh... oh gosh I knew Nya doing the Nyad thing was meant to happen, but this way? My heart is melting already 😭

I remember a post that said that Jay told Nya that he loves her many times, while she never did. Tommy reponded that she lets her actions speak... boy do I see it now, I see all of her love 😢😢

I never felt such conflicting emotions for a villain like I do for Kalmaar, like, he caused so much pain to Nya... but he is voiced by Giles... but he is the reason Jay is hurt... but that startle gag 😂😂😂

Okay this? Is adorable?

What the HECK? The police in this city is generally not very helpful, but the Commissioner is very wholesome 💜

Nyaaaaaaa 😭😭😭😭 I didn't think it was possible to love her even more, she was ignored for so long during the show, but now we finally see all of her. She is an amazing warrior, a selfless person, and a real hero 💪💪 And coming from such a mature girl that doesn't like to act irrationally, this means so much more

Jaya grew up so much, it went through some very questionable phases yes, but what they have here? It's the result of all they had lived together 💙❤💙❤

I have chills, this is amazing so far, I'm legit scared of going further 😱

SHE SAID IT!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Okay this moment, everything, EVERYTHING, is absolutely marvelous. Nya said I love you without a voice, alone, showing again that she values the actions more, but still her feelings are 100% truthful. Then the transformation (THERE IT IS HER BEAUTIFUL WATER FORM 😍😍😍), Jay getting saved, the realization of what she just did from everyone... DANG IT IT'S ALL BEAUTIFUL HOW LONG DID IT TAKE TO THINK OF THIS SCENE???

*slow clap for Bragi, Tommy, and the Ninjago crew*

Jay and water Nya with their hands together gives me big The Form of Water vibes... LOVE THAT MOVIE WHO'S READY FOR AN AU??

Jay wants to help her, I had no doubt 💙 They always help each other in these BOUNDs seasons 😍😍😍

Kalmaar: where are the ninja??

Commissioner: I don't know, they are ninja!

FINAL BATTLE INCOMING AAAAHHH I HOPE THIS WILL HAVE A GOOD ENDING OMG BRING IT!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

THE TURN OF THE TIDE

Oh, curious title? It feels a little vague, I don't really know what it could be

YES GIRL GO GET HIS CALAMARI BUTT HECK YES!!! Just how cool can you be for walking slowly while the attacks go straight through you? 😂

Hey Nya still recognizes Jay! 😃😃

HEY NYA GOT VAPORIZED WTH 😱😱 It's too early, I don't believe that's it!

WHOA JAY WENT BERSERK JUST NOW!! I don't think I've seen this before, this is the coolest thing! 💙💙💙 I just love when he shows how strong he is, you can be a comic relief AND kick butts 😎

FIGHTING ANIMATIONS MAN I LOVE THESE SCENES!! 😍😍😍

What the- was... was that a cameo of the lightning chicken? Ninjago what the HECK I love your randomness 😂😂

BENTHOMAAR TAGS IN!!! Showing off why he is best boy of the season 💙 These fightings are very cool but I can't help imagining Wojira just chilling while there are midgets getting very angry at each other onto her head 🤣🤣🤣

WHOA, CALAMARI BITE! Kalmaar got the Pythor treatment... might change color by next season if he returns 😅

(Please return I loved having Giles' voice in this season 💙💙💙)

NYA IS A DRAGON!!! I REPEAT NYA IS A DRAGON!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍 I was wondering where the dragon moment was, this is Ninjago after all 🤷‍♀️

Head empty, just Jay smiling softy at Nya because he loves her 💙💙💙

IT'S RAINING NYA, HALLELUIA IT'S RAINING NYA, HEYE!! ☔☔☔ This fight is MASSIVE! We had finales with big creatures before but now one of the ninja is big enough to face them and that's 🤯

NYA DID IT!!! 🤩🤩🤩 ... now onto the angst that I KNOW it's coming

Kai being unbelieving is tragic, and Jay's "don't leave me" broke my heart. Please end this misery, where is the deus ex machina that solves everything?

Wait she left?

...

WAIT SHE ACTUALLY LEFT??? WHAT THE HECK THEY AREN'T ENDING IT LIKE THIS

...

OH MY GOSH

ARE THEY?!?

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

Omg the grief in this is beautiful, nice to see Jay and Maya so close to each other! Also Kai leaning onto his mom while Cole is comforting his best best friend? Amazing, they really do these scenes great 👌

EVERYONE SHOWED UP I LOVE THIS CITY SO MUCH 😭😭😭 Aww Ed and Edna, wasn't this such a sad situation I would be so much happier to see you guys 🥺

Master Wu even mentioned that she built Samurai X, you really want to make me cry now do you? 🥺🥺

MAYA AND RAY 😢😢😢😢😢😢

Omg look at Cole being there for his best friend, he is amazing 🖤💙🖤💙

I have such Rebooted vibes from this... is it hopeful? That Nya comes back like Zane? She's no nindroid but still... oh my gosh they got her symbol on the vase I just noticed, I need more tissues 😭😭

"In loving memory of Kirby Morrow". Always in our hearts 🖤🖤🖤

...

Wow

WOW

THEY ACTUALLY DID IT I NEED ANOTHER MOMENT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 WHAT IN THE WORLD THIS IS THE BIGGEST CHANGE THEY DID IN A WHILE!!!

AND NOW WHAT??? 🤯🤯🤯

FINAL THOUGHTS

I'm speechless... like that's true, have A LOT to write over here 😅

This type of plot twist reminds me of our early seasons. Zane sacrificing himself, Garmadon giving up his life, those moments that made me so curious and excited about the following. I have no idea what will be the outcome for this, but I can't wait to find out

With that out of the way, AMAZING SEASON 😍😍😍 I think this finale beats MoM's, just because it was really unexpected and opens up a SEA of possibilities... yeah too soon 😭

I'm still shaken, my world, they did something HUGE and I do hope it will be a good shake to the entire Ninjago plotline. Nya is "gone", we still don't know about the person behind all that vengestone, we haven't heard from Garmy in forever, there are so many good ideas out there now that they've set the ground for more 🤩🤩

Voice acting was *chef's kiss*, not only for the villain which I already stressed enough about, I think Kelly reached a new level of emotional intimacy with Nya and I'm so happy she showed her skills 💜💜

Animation is TOP, there's little to no point into saying anything else since they showed it very clearly in the latest season ☺

This was the emotional, witty and engaging writing I was looking for! Good jokes, meaningful dialogues, emotional scenes, everything was really good and I'm gonna rewatch some scenes especially for that 😍

It turned out having Maya and Ray back was kind of a distraction to fool us all 😅😅 Well played actually, and it was very cool seeing them again in any case 🙋‍♀️

And now? Jay lost his love, I have no idea if the show will work on him getting over her or hold onto her memory (thinking of Jay probably the latter, although I do think that handling the first would be an interesting idea). KAI LOST HIS SISTER 😢😢😢 I have no doubt he's gonna beat himself up for it, like he did when Zane was gone too. Everyone lost their friend, she had become such a vital part of the team and now she is not here anymore it will be hard...

They are back with the four plus one green savior formation, I sincerely don't know how I feel about that 😅 I'm always happy when we get the OGs, but this is about going on without Nya... maybe Skylor will be called? Or Pixal will be more active? That could be interesting to see, who knows 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Gosh, how are they going to handle the next season? It will have to give A LOT of answers to the millions questions we all have right now. Man I can't wait, it could be anything!!! This is a Ninjago revolution!

But if I have to mention a little complain, and I'm a fangirl so I absolutely have to, Kai didn't show much of a reaction to Nya's "departure". Okay, she didn't straight up die like in Skybound (I'm gonna fear all BOUND seasons from now on 😱), but he's her brother and he loves deeply his family. Either we're gonna see him go all out next season, or the writers really did only focus on Jaya. A tiny bit salty... but you got me a fantastic finale so I'll move on 👍

Outstanding, I'm blown away. Whenever I think I'm used to this show they do stuff like this. I'm so glad and sad you guys 😅 But mostly happy that despite everything I still get very strong emotions while I watch this long time favorite show of mine 💜💜💜

What else can I say at this point? ONTO NEXT SEASON!!! 🤩🤩🤩

Thank you for reading me freaking out over LEGO spinning ninja as always! It helps me calm down but this time it might be harder thant the others... *sobs*

I need to lay down and process all of this, I'll be on my way 😂😂 BYE!!! 💜

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princess-of-the-worlds · 4 years

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Torchwood and the (Mis)treatment of its Characters of Color

Let’s be honest; despite its decent track record with queer characters, Torchwood has a problem with how it treats its characters of colors, and I say this as a South Asian, bisexual fan of the show.

For the purposes of this post, I will only be looking at the Torchwood television series (so spoilers for Seasons 1 and 2, Children of Earth, and Miracle Day), and not as Big Finish Torchwood releases since I do not believe myself to be well-versed enough in them to be able to make an accurate post. And also, as much as I love Big Finish for eveything they’re doing, on-screen POC representation is very different from audio POC representation. (And for the purposes of this post, I will not be addressing the mistreatment of Martha Jones, which really, if you think about it, stems from Doctor Who and not Torchwood.)

TLDR; Torchwood has neglected or mistreated its characters of color, given them little or no background, and brutally killed them off, often for shock value.

Let’s start with Suzie Costello.

Suzie Costello, played by Indira Varma who is a British actress of Indian descent, was promoted alongside the regular cast members in publicity material before “Everything Changes” aired, giving the impression that she would be sticking around for a while or would be a main character. Instead, she was unceremoniously killed off at the end of the first episode and only pops up once more in “They Keep Killing Suzie.” At no point was Suzie acknowledged as a woman of color or given much more background beyond her tumultuous, most likely abusive, relationship with her father.

Next, we get to Toshiko Sato, left as the only person of color on the team after Suzie’s death.

Wonderful, gorgeous, caring Tosh who, for all intents and purposes, is essentially a walking stereotype. She’s an Asian (Japanese specifically) technology genius who is unlucky at love. Need I say more? (Check out this Teen Vogue article if you’re wondering why that’s a bad thing, or, honestly, just quickly search Google.) And all three of the Tosh-heavy episodes (”Greeks Bearing Gifts,” “To the Last Man,” and “Adam”) feature her being unlucky in love (Mary betraying her, Tommy dying, and Adam manipulating her). Plus, there’s everything with Owen where she pines after him for years only for him to finally recognize that before he dies, and then he, well, dies; that plot arc only ends in death and sadness.

Additionally, we only have limited background for Tosh in comparison to Jack and Gwen (who I guess you could kind of say are the main characters) but even in comparison to Ianto (for whom more background was revealed only because he became a more prominent character in COE.) We know she was born in London, moved to Japan as a child, and at some point moved back before growing up in the United Kingdom. She had a younger brother (mentioned in a deleted scene in “Captain Jack Harkness”) and a grandfather who worked at Bletchley Park (mentioned in “Greeks Bearing Gifts” and “Captain Jack Harkness.”) She also very much loved her family, or at least her mother, enough to commit treason for her, despite her mother only being seen in “End of Days” and “Fragments.” But that’s about it.

There was so much more Torchwood could have done with Tosh. We could have seen more about her family or her education. We certainly could have seen more about her bisexuality; everything that happened with Mary was not a satisfying resolution. Instead, she was killed off alongside Owen in “Exit Wounds.” Torchwood used the death of a woman of color for shock value, and no matter how effective or emotional that was, it was not excusable. There was so much story left to be told with Toshiko Sato.

Tosh’s death brought the racial diversity in Torchwood down to zilch.

Next, we have Lisa Hallett.

Now, Lisa Hallett...what do we actually know about her? She worked at Torchwood One, dated Ianto Jones, and loved him enough to maybe fight cyberprogramming for him - this part might be subjective to your own interpretation of “Cyberwoman.” We don’t know anything about her, really, apart from how she is defined and described for a white male main character, which...is problematic enough. I mean, would it have been too much to ask the writers for maybe some further description? I mean, I don’t know. Maybe where exactly she worked in Torchwood London? How she joined? How she met Ianto? If she had any family, any other friends? Why she loved Torchwood and worked there? Heck, a flashback scene featuring a non-cyberized Lisa and Ianto would have been brilliant. Is that too much to have asked of the Torchwood writers? I don’t know.

Then there’s the entire fact that Lisa was turned into a Cyberwoman. Now, I have many problems with how Doctor Who and Torchwood uses its Cybermen, especially regarding its continuous brutalization of black and brown bodies for emotional and shock value (Lisa, Danny Pink, and Bill Potts are only some examples.) It sends a very, very nasty message to these shows’ viewers of color, especially if they’re younger and more impressionable. Plus, the depiction of Lisa in “Cyberwoman” was uncomfortable and unnecessarily sexualized, but this is a whole different essay. But in the end, Lisa Hallett was pumped with bullets many, many times, and her death only added to the emotional pain of a white man.

Now, we come to more minor characters.

Beth Halloran was a human who did not know her true identity as an alien sleeper agent. She had a very interesting and action-packed story arc in “Sleeper” before ending up dead at the hands of Torchwood. She had an emotional struggle between her human identity and her truth as an alien sleeper and chose to help save the world, intentionally ending up dead at the hands of Torchwood. That being said, she was still another character of color who Torchwood had bothered fleshing out who ended up dead.

Next, there’s Dr. Rupesh Patanjali.

Introduced in COE, he’s a medical doctor who catches Jack and Ianto working on a case and ends up piquing their interest after he makes some shit up. Spoiler alert: he’s an MI-5 plant. We see Gwen attempt to conduct orientation and recruitment with him. He has a fun setup to be a potential new Torchwood member and inside spy, but instead, he lures Jack to the hospital where Jack’s implanted with a bomb. And despite doing his job as requested and doing it rather well, Rupesh Patanjali is shot dead by Agent Johnson that very episode, just like Beth.

Then we have Lois Habiba, arguably the most interesting and fun character introduced in COE.

She’s a naive newcomer, almost like Gwen, but during her first week working in the Home Office, she finds herself committing treason, conspiring against her boss Frobisher, and helping save the world from an alien invasion. She’s smart, resourceful, and principled, very much like Ianto. Like with a lot of the characters on this list, we know next-to-nothing about her background, which is odd considering her rather major role in COE. And despite being seemingly set up to become a member of Torchwood, we never see her again.

Finally, we come to Miracle Day and its two new characters of color, Rex Matheson and Dr. Vera Juarez. I won’t be getting into too much detail here, especially since MD has its own problems.

Ah, Rex.

Torchwood finally has a man of color for a main character who seems like he could be an interesting foil to Jack (a high-ranking CIA agent with a high bullshit meter), and what do they do...they kill him in his first scene. Oh, and they make him “lightly” homophobic, because that’s always fun. And then he ends up immortal in some kind of bullshit plot hole...I have enough to say there.

Vera, however, was quite interesting. Again, little to no background besides the basic (from San Antonio, had an ex-husband, is a surgeon), but she was still a Latina medical doctor. She had morals and was very stubborn and determined to save people, which is why she insisted into helping Torchwood sneak into the overflow camp. And what did she get for that? She ended up brutually shot in front of her lover Rex, which traumatized them both, and then literally burnt alive. Thrown on top of that? In a quite meta move really, the death of another woman of color was used to incite outrage around the country, and the world, and expose the wrongdoings of the United States government regarding the Miracle. Good stuff? Either way, it came at the cost of the death of one strong woman of color and the further trauma of another man of color.

Plus, there’s everything about how unnecessarily violent and graphic some of the deaths of these characters of color. To put it into perspective, think about how Owen or Ianto or Esther died. (I’m not trying to reduce the values of their deaths; I’m just trying to get you to think about it.)

So yeah, that’s all I have to say about that. Torchwood, you could have done better with your characters of color. (And thank you if you stuck all this way with me.)

TLDR; Torchwood has neglected or mistreated its characters of color, given them little or no background, and brutally killed them off, often for shock value.

#torchwood #characters of color #torchwood meta #suzie costello #toshiko sato #lisa hallett #beth halloran #rupesh patanjali #rex matheson #vera juarez #children of earth #miracle day #nik wrote a literal essay

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randomwankystuff · 4 years

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Confession: Deku Annoys Me

Disclaimer: I’m not entirely caught up on BNHA - I read the manga/wiki pretty much at random.

I can’t stand how obnoxiously perfect Deku is. He was presented as this underdog protagonist but hasn’t been since episode 1. And I don’t just mean his quirk - OFA is powerful, but All Might doesn’t have the same Gary Stu problems Deku has. My problem with Deku isn’t that he’s too physically powerful, but that he plays too many roles in class 1-A. Right now he’s:

1. A physical powerhouse. Only Todoroki, Bakugo, and nighttime Tokoyami can even compete.

2. Probably the fastest student. Full cowl 8% was already about as fast as Gran Torino, and Iida hasn’t been useful for several arcs...

3. The best strategist. Even though Yaomomo is canonically a genius, and Iida and Bakugou are more booksmart, most of the time it’s Midoriya that comes up with a brilliant yet simple plan to save everyone’s asses. Yaomomo only really seems to be relevant when she’s in school, taking a test. Midoriya had the best actually useful plans during the U.S.J. incident, Kamino, etc.

4. The most effortlessly selfless. (I mean, this goes without saying, this is pretty much his defining character trait.)

5. The best leader. His classmates voted for him at the beginning of their first year, and pretty much everyone except Bakugou defers to him without hesitation in sticky situations.

6. The hardest worker. He’s always training, always trying to improve. Remember the air chair exercise in Season 1? Casually just squatting throughout the entire class. Everyone was in absolute awe.

7. The most inspirational. Everyone looks up to him, from Aoyama to Kota. Aizawa notes he and Bakugo are the pillars of 1-A.

8. The most social. Yeah he’s presented as an awkward nerd, but he makes friends in two seconds flat with everyone. He’s charmed his way into friendships with Aoyama and Todoroki. Eri absolutely adores him. He’s always sweet, thoughtful, likable.

9. He’s even good looking. Ochako and Toga have crushes on him, and his art is designed to be pleasant to the eye.

Although BNHA tries to pretend Deku has flaws, he actually doesn’t, because they’ve never had any real life consequences.

“He’s insecure.” Well, his insecurity rarely hurts him. He was always committed to pursuing his dreams as a hero. He doesn’t lash out at others when he feels unworthy. When death is hammering at the door, he magically summons the confidence not just to act, but even to command and to inspire others. In real life, insecurity is often much more debilitating. Insecurity in real life often means you don’t even try because you believe you’ll fail, you get uncomfortable or temperamental around people who make you feel less than, and you don’t magically get a confidence boost when it’s convenient. Yaomomo’s arc is much more compelling than Deku’s when it comes to overcoming insecurity because, unlike Deku, her insecurity actually holds her back.

“He’s an awkward nerd.” That hurt him when he was a child, hanging out with Bakugo, but since he entered UA, he manages to effortlessly charm everyone he knows, so really, he doesn’t have a significant social handicap. His awkwardness is presented as sincere, endearing, and funny more than anything.

“He’s selfless to a fault.” To what fault? He gets lectured, but he’s always right in the end. His charging into danger without any regard for his own safety has been proven to be the right thing to do several times. He inspired All Might to fight against the sludge monster. He saved Bakugo when he was kidnapped. Yeah, he breaks bones doing selfless things, but this is shonen - temporary pain has very little emotional weight because everyone gets hurt all the time, and then they get healed by magic. He breaks his bones, discovers he has legs, and then goes back to fighting at pretty much full strength. A cool looking scar doesn’t count as a real consequence of his selflessness. Honestly, I’m just waiting for Deku to rush in to save one person even though he’s warned against it, and because of that, the villains are alerted of their presence/he isn’t there to help others when they need them, and several other people die as a result.

To be clear, none of what I’ve mentioned above is a problem on its own. OFA is obviously an absurdly powerful quirk. Midoriya spent years taking notes on heroes and learning from them. He’s naturally a selfless person - that’s the point of his character. He should be likable, clever, hardworking, and inspirational. But he shouldn’t be the strongest AND fastest AND smartest AND most selfless AND the best leader AND the hardest working AND the most charismatic AND the most social, all while having pretty much zero relevant flaws. It’s absurd. Especially in a place like UA - isn’t it supposed to be one of the two best hero schools in the country?

I know plenty of people who have gone to top tier universities, work at Google, are top ranked athletes, etc. None of them have been anywhere near as perfect as Midoriya. Generally, if you’re the most athletic person in the room, it’s not likely you’re also the smartest. If you’re the most likable, you’re probably not the hardest working. If you’re the most selfless, you’re probably not the leader who gains everyone’s undying loyalty and respect. Perfection almost never happens. You can’t be the best at everything, especially at a place like UA, which is supposed to be the Harvard of the BNHA world. Rather, everyone should shine in certain areas only. For example:

Yaomomo is canonically a genius, and she’s also shown to be meticulous and hardworking. She should be the best strategist of 1-A.

Ojiro made it to UA with just a tail - no fancy, overpowered tricks, just a damn tail. Just think about how hard you have to work to stand on the same level as people who can destroy buildings with a punch, shock a dozen people simultaneously with electricity, and shatter rock with their ears. It’s not even some magical tail, it’s just a damn tail. He has to have worked his ass off to get in incredible shape, think of ways to creatively use his quirk, and learn martial arts. Ojiro should be the hardest worker of 1-A.

Kirishima is easygoing, loving, loyal, and charming. He should be the one befriending Aoyama, earning people’s trust, inspiring children. He should be the most social and charismatic of 1-A.

Highlighting the abilities and positive traits of these three would be a easy way to get more attention on BNHA’s fantastic cast while also helping Deku grow as a character.

Or, just treat Deku the way BNHA treats All Might. All Might is amazing but he’s far from perfect. He’s not the best strategist - he’s very smart, but he still relied on Nighteye to look out for him. He’s caring and charming, but is shown to be a pretty mediocre teacher. His overwhelming selflessness and his heart-over-head mentality actually had consequences in that it cost him his relationship with Nighteye. His trusting nature and his empathy for the powerless led to conflict and complications when he chose Midoriya over Mirio. His heroic drive wrecked his health, forced him into retirement, and prevented him from saving more people.

Even Mirio, who is probably a Gary Stu, gets arguably better treatment than Deku because, although he’s very powerful, he doesn’t shine academically/strategically the way Deku does, and he also literally loses his quirk as a result of his selflessness. Todoroki and Bakugo both also have plenty of flaws/weaknesses, and suffer for their mistakes all the time.

I still root for Deku, but honestly I continue to follow BNHA mostly for characters like Todoroki, Aizawa, Kirishima, and Yaomomo.

#bnha #mha #midoriya #midoriya izuku #momo yaoyorozu #yagi toshinori #Mirio Togata #ojiro makoto #kirishima ejirou

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juju-on-that-yeet · 3 years

Text

From Dusk till Dawn

Whumptober Day 27: Ok, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card? Prompt: Power Outage

After rescuing Yandere, the egos finally have enough information to rescue Oliver and Chrome and take down Enigma Data, ending this nightmare once and for all. But with Oliver still firmly on the side of the enemy, it won’t be easy. (continued from “Keep Up”)

Warnings: Blood, violence, mind control, amnesia, implied death of non-main characters

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

Several days after rescuing Yandere from Enigma Data, Dark and Google formulate a plan to break into the organization’s headquarters, rescue Chrome and Oliver, and destroy the entire place and everyone in it. There’s no question that they have to bring the place down; an organization strong enough to capture and maim so many egos has to be eliminated for the continued safety of the others. Enigma Data is already so secretive and practically invisible to the public, so it’s doubtful they’ll be missed much. And with the schematics and maps Dark stole when he rescued Yandere, the rescue itself is easy to plan out.

The only real difficulty in preparing for the rescue is deciding who gets to go. Dark and Google, of course. Wilford, too; his presence is necessary to teleport them to the building, and almost no one is better at destruction than him. Yancy wants to come, but his arm is still in the process of healing, fading in and out from the elbow down, solid enough to carry objects that won’t break if dropped but not much more. Yandere wants to come even more, and he argues in favor of himself coming along to rescue his brother until Dark’s shell cracks with the effort of shouting him down. Yandere is still recovering too, still needs more sleep and more food, still has bandages on his wrists from his shackles. Bim is refused outright; despite his desire to help Oliver, his magic isn’t suited for this kind of mission.

Plus wants to go too, and Google almost doesn’t let him. But how could he not? Oliver and Chrome are his brothers, too, and he’s been missing them just as much as Google has, maybe even more so. At least Google knows what it’s like not to have brothers around; Plus has hardly ever been without them in any meaningful way his entire life. Dark approves of the extra muscle, so it’s not really Google’s choice at all. He doesn’t tell Plus his misgivings, but he suspects Plus already knows he has them. Plus seems worried, too.

“You’re the only brother I have left,” Google imagines they’re both thinking, “I can’t lose you too.”

Whether or not Plus is thinking that, Google sure is.

Still, the time comes, and Wilford teleports himself, Dark, Google, and Plus to the back entrance of Enigma Data’s headquarters one evening just after the sun goes down. Before they even go inside, Dark sends his aura spilling out and into the building, searching for Chrome and Oliver among the scientists.

“Chrome is in the holding center like we thought,” Dark says once he’s done, “Oliver is on the west wing of the second floor. He’s moving, but not quickly. It shouldn’t be hard to catch up with him.”

With that, the group splits off as planned; the building’s huge size makes it necessary. Wilford’s job is to cut the power and provide a distraction away from the holding center, away from the west wing. Dark’s job is to spirit through the building; killing from the shadows, destroying equipment and data, and keeping the others informed of any new developments. Google and Plus are searching for their brothers; Plus following a memorized map to the holding center for Chrome, Google following Dark’s directions to find and subdue Oliver. He doesn’t like the thought of fighting his own brother, but he already knows it must be done.

He and Plus only share a nod before splitting up inside the building. Google is worried for him still, but he sees the angry glow of Plus’s green eyes and the determined set of his jaw and knows that Plus will stop at nothing to get his twin out of here.

Likewise, Google will stop at nothing to finally rescue his baby brother after weeks of missing him.

~~~

The power flicks out barely a minute after Plus separates from Google. Another minute after that, the backup generators go out too, leaving the building in pitch darkness. This is why the group waited until night to strike, that way the windows throughout the building offer very little additional light. Of course, it’s never fully dark in LA, but it’s dark enough for Plus’s night vision to kick in, and that means it’s dark enough to hinder the scientists. It’s not hard for Plus to sneak around in the dark, avoiding the scientists that blindly stumble down the halls. He’s not interested in engaging them yet, he has something bigger to worry about.

Oliver was gone for weeks before he was seen again, completely brainwashed. There’s no way of telling how long the whole process took, no way of knowing if it took days or a week or longer to put Oliver in that state. Meaning there’s no way for even someone as smart as Plus to know how far gone Chrome is now. If he’s still in holding then he must not be fully altered yet, but Plus won’t know how bad it is until he gets there.

It doesn’t take him too long. The holding center seems deserted; if the shouts and bangs Plus can just barely hear are anything to go by, Wilford is already providing a significant distraction on the other side of the building. He’s the only one in the group with poor night vision, but with his reality-bending abilities, that hardly matters. Plus doesn’t bother with the holding center’s keypad and fingerprint scanner, now defunct from the power outage. Instead, he chooses to pry the metal door open with his bare hands.

Immediately upon walking in, he sees a pair of glowing red eyes in the center of the room.

Chrome is so covered in chains and shackles and other restraints that his eyes are practically the only part of him that’s visible. He’s forced to his knees by shackles, his arms are held up and out by chains, and his face is concealed by a titanium muzzle mask. Chrome can hardly move, though he tries to at the sight of Plus. But despite their bright glow of distress, Chrome’s eyes have very little else, only the barest hint of recognition. Plus’s core stutters with equal parts relief at finally seeing his brother again, and fear over Chrome’s placid reaction to seeing Plus again in return. How much has Chrome forgotten?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Chrome?” asks Plus, “Do you know who I am?”

“You…” Chrome begins, “I know you, don’t I? Or I’m supposed to…Green, you’re Green.”

Chrome’s voice is muffled by the mask and hoarse (whether from screaming or from disuse, Plus would rather not know), and so uncertain and quiet and unlike Chrome that it’s almost painful to hear. It’s as if the memories he’s lost and the terrible treatment he’s suffered have removed Chrome’s characteristic anger, replacing it with confusion, fear, sadness.

Well, Plus is angry enough for them both, now.

“I am,” Plus tells Chrome, approaching him to free him of his bonds, snapping the straps of his mask first. “I’m here to rescue you. Google, Dark, and Wilford are here, too.” Chrome only looks confused, so Plus attempts to clarify: “Blue, our brother, and our two leaders.”

“Oh, Blue!” Chrome exclaims, “I do know Blue. But the others, leaders…they don’t sound familiar at all.”

Plus means to ask more questions, find out what else Chrome still remembers, but at that moment he pulls off Chrome’s mask and sees his face. Patches of skin have flaked off his cheeks from the mask’s friction, from the damp of countless tears. There’s bags under his eyes, his hair is a mess, and his lips are horribly chapped. He looks worn, beaten down, tired, and so unlike the spitfire brother he remembers.

He quickly breaks open Chrome’s shackles and pulls away the chains in sad, angry silence. Chrome doesn’t question it. Plus helps Chrome stand, and he groans a little as the joints in his knees creak.

“Can you walk on your own?” Plus asks.

“I don’t think so,” Chrome says, leaning on Plus, “I’ve been stuck kneeling for…for…I don’t know how long.”

“Over a week,” Plus tells him.

“And you’ve already lost so much,” he adds in his mind.

As he leads Chrome back through the hallway, he asks Chrome more questions about his memory. The hall is deserted now; fire alarms have started going off, no doubt because of Wilford, and the scientists are likely trying to run away. Plus doesn’t have to worry about being quiet when speaking with Chrome and asking questions. Although Chrome remembers his brothers, he only remembers surface details about them: Blue is the oldest, Green is his twin, Yellow is the baby, or at least, he used to be. He can’t remember their true names, just the colors, though he still knows his own name, at least. When asked about his friends, Chrome recalls that he has two, that their names are similar, and that one is practically a fourth brother to him. But he can recall nothing else about them, even telling Chrome their names doesn’t jog his memory. He doesn’t remember the other egos at all, he doesn’t remember Ego Inc., he’s even forgotten his own birthday. It’s no wonder he’s acting so different, so much quieter and more subdued than normal. Plus is glad he and the others got here when they did; a few more days and Chrome might have been totally brainwashed.

There’s more than just the memory loss, though. Chrome tells him about how the scientists have gone digging through his head, destroying his GPS and internal communication software, corrupting every file they could, pulling out screws, methodically damaging him enough to alter his brain without completely ruining his functionality. Plus guesses with a shiver that they’d perfected the destructive techniques they’d used on Oliver, that his brain might be just as damaged or more.

Plus knows what he’s supposed to do now. He’s been instructed to take Chrome outside, to alert the others that he’s safe, and stay with him unless called to provide backup. They knew that the longer they stayed in the building the more dangerous it would get, and the fire somewhere in the building only proves it.

But Plus didn’t just come here for Chrome. And if he goes to the exit before doubling back, he might run out of time to help, and his help will likely be needed.

“Do you remember fighting Oliver?” he asks Chrome at one point, “Before you were captured?”

“Yes,” Chrome answers, “He was ruthless, so fast and so strong. I couldn’t bring myself to go full-force, and he got an opening and tased me with this horrible taser.”

Under the command of Enigma Data, Oliver doesn’t fight like normal. He plays dirty. He doesn’t hesitate. He probably has less self-preservation, and he probably knows that Google won’t want to hurt him. And he probably still has that taser, the same kind Bing and Bop found so long ago, the same one Yancy, Yandere, and now Chrome described Oliver using. If it took down Chrome, it could take down Google.

Plus remembers Dark’s directions on Oliver’s location. Second floor, west wing.

This is only half-over, and Plus will see it through to the end.

~~~

It takes Google longer than expected to track down Oliver.

Maybe he knows what this sudden break-in and power outage is about, maybe he figured that friends of the people he helped capture would be coming. Maybe he knows about the break-in at Enigma Data’s smaller facility, the one Yandere had been kept in. Maybe he knows that he’d be searched for.

He’s good at evading. Dark doesn’t update Google with more sightings, neither does Wilford. Google searches the second floor west wing and realizes that Oliver has gone elsewhere. He pauses a moment, considers where Oliver might have gone. He recalls the building’s floor plans, recalls the fire escape at the center of the third floor. Perhaps Enigma Data has him on protection duty, escorting the most important people out of the building before Dark and Wilford can kill them, or carrying out valuable data.

It’s worth a try, so that’s where Google goes.

The second floor had small scattered fires, caused either by Wilford’s distraction, or by chemicals left unattended, or spilled, or no longer at the correct temperature to keep them stable. But the third floor has more fires, bigger ones, and smoke billows across the ceiling so thick that the noisy fire alarms can’t be seen. It’s not much of a bother to Google; he doesn’t need to breathe, and his vents are excellent at pulling in clean air. It wouldn’t be a bother to Oliver, either. Though no light comes through the windows and no lights are still working in the building, Google finds himself turning off his night vision, as the bright plumes of flame give him enough light to search for Oliver with.

Google walks past burnt bodies, towers of flame scorching computer monitors, scattered shells and recent dead. Wilford or Dark, perhaps both, was here at one point, but not long enough ago to catch Oliver.

Or recently enough. Even through the deafening roar of fire, the crackling burning, the shrill alarms, the thick smoke, Google can tell he’s being watched.

He turns around to see Oliver standing across the hall, between a double wall of cubicles. Fire lights him up from behind, putting his stoic, frowning face in harsh shadow. His eyes glow vibrant yellow, his hands are already in fists. He still has his yellow shirt, his jeans, his glasses, his fluffy black hair, but he has something else, too: A huge, mean-looking taser on his belt. The same one that incapacitated Chrome.

Google had waited so long to see Oliver again, yet the sight of him only makes the ache in his core grow sharper.

“Oliver,” he says, the first word he’s spoken to his brother in weeks.

“My first assignment was to help my superiors escape,” Oliver says, cold and monotone, “And my second assignment is to destroy the intruders.”

“Let me guess,” Google says, dropping into a fighting stance, “Your superiors have all escaped.”

Oliver doesn’t bother answering, he only charges.

Google pretends to brace, but jumps away the second before Oliver can make impact, bouncing back to tackle him and send them both sprawling into a cubicle. Google’s on top when they hit the cubicle wall, and he straddles Oliver, putting both hands around his neck. His aim is to knock his head against the floor to subdue him, but Oliver kicks up, kneeing Google in the back next to his spine. Google grunts in pain, subconsciously loosens his grip, and it’s all Oliver needs to grab Google’s wrists and throw his arms off him with one hand and push his chest back with the other. Google recovers quickly, but Oliver is faster, punching Google in the nose and sending him backward into an office chair and desk. He can taste the oil dripping from his nose, feel the sharp pain from where the back of his head clipped the edge of the desk. He manages to roll out of the way when Oliver tries to punch him again.

They both stand. They circle each other warily. Oliver reaches down to grab his taser, but Google launches forward and punches him before he can, using his other hand to yank Oliver’s arm away from the taser. They grapple, dancing around each other as they try to trip each other, try to pull the other into a headlock. Google throws Oliver into the wall of a cubicle, and he crashes right through, landing among the rubble. Google pounces, but a moment later, Oliver grabs his taser again. Google barely manages to duck back and under Oliver’s first swipe, electricity crackling inches from his face, sparking in the shadows of the room. Without taking his eyes off Oliver and his taser, Google feels around on the ground for something, anything to fight back with. His fingers find a pen, so he grabs it, clicks it, grabs Oliver’s arm as he swipes at Google again, and plunges the pen through what he knows is the most important joint in Oliver’s wrist. Oliver yells in pain, dropping the taser against his will. Google picks it up, and for a moment he considers using it, considers ending the fight right there.

But he can’t. He can’t do that to his baby brother.

He tosses the taser down the hall, and when Oliver tries to go for it, he punches him.

They grapple again, this time rolling across the floor, punching and blocking. Even with one hand hard to orient through the damaged wrist, Oliver is still able to land punches on Google, though Google gets in some hits of his own. Somehow, Oliver finds and grabs the same pen Google stabbed him with off the floor, despite it being covered in oil and near-invisible in the dark. He punches Google, knocking his head back and allowing Oliver to get on top. He brings the pen down, attempting to stab into Google’s core, but Google thrusts his hand in the way just in time. The pen goes right through his hand, but it doesn’t even break the skin of his chest. Oliver savagely rips it out and raises it again, and Google grabs his arm, uses it to pull himself up, and headbutts Oliver as hard as he can without hurting his own head.

Google stands, prepares to kick Oliver in the gut, but Oliver rolls out of his way and uses the momentum to push himself up. His eyes flick to where the taser fell, but Google kicks again, catching Oliver square in the knee and stopping him from running for it. He steps forward to knee Oliver in the head to finally knock him out, but Oliver surprises him by jumping up, one hand flying into Google’s face, smashing his glasses, and pushing the broken glass into his face.

Google roars in pain, staggering backwards. His glasses are purely for aesthetic purposes, his vision is no less perfect without them, but he can feel a cut across one cornea that makes his vision blurry, and the flowing oil from the cuts around his eyes stains his vision gray. He tries to turn his night vision back on, but it only works in one eye and sends green stripes of static across the other, so he’s forced to turn it back off. Still, he tackles Oliver wildly when he turns towards the taser yet again, grapples with him yet again, but it’s harder to keep up with his vision impaired. Their frenzied fight sends them rolling towards a computer tower in flames, spitting sparks dangerously close to both their exposed arms. Oliver shoves Google into it, and Google cries out as flames eat into his hair and the back of his neck. He pushes himself back forward, tries to pull Oliver in and throw him in instead, but the oil in his eyes slows him down and Oliver punches Google square in his already injured nose. Google hears it crunch, feels it fold in. He expects Oliver to push him back into the fire or run for his taser again, but instead, he stands, pulling Google up by his shirt.

“You did not use your full strength against me,” Oliver muses, lifting Google up until his feet dangle. He fists his other hand and sucker punches Google in the gut, so hard he gags. “You could have ended this fight earlier, but you chose not to.” He punches again, again, and Google can’t get his bearings enough to hit or kick back.

Oliver’s right. Google didn’t fight as hard as he should’ve. He thought he’d be able to turn his sympathy off, to shut down his love for Oliver and treat him like any enemy that needed subduing. But he couldn’t, the moment he saw Oliver he knew he couldn’t. He loves Oliver too much to turn it off.

Oliver has no such love, not anymore. Oliver has no qualms with killing Google. And with every punch Oliver delivers to Google, Google imagines that outcome is coming ever closer. He grits his teeth, tries to focus through the continuous blows and fight back, tries to squint through his impaired vision.

Despite the blurriness, despite the gray tint, despite the dark, he catches a flicker of movement behind Oliver. Through the fire and smoke and alarms and repeated punching of Google, Oliver notices nothing.

Google reaches above his eye, pulls out a shard of his eyeglasses, and slices the front of his shirt. The chunk of fabric Oliver is holding comes away in his hand, and Google jumps back, now free of Oliver’s grasp.

Before Oliver can react, Plus comes up behind him with Oliver’s own taser in his grip, and jabs Oliver in the neck.

The effect is immediate. Oliver’s body seizes, his eyes widen, his jaw clenches. Every part of him is rigid, yet he’s convulsing, limbs and head jittering back and forth. His hand still clenches the fabric cut from Google’s shirt, so tight his short nails might pierce the cloth. His eyes dart back and forth in his sockets, seeing nothing at all. The crackling of the taser’s pulsing is louder than the crackling of the burning building around them. Google should be relieved that the fight is ending, but his instincts are screaming to protect Oliver. But this has to be done, this is the only way to stop him. Plus keeps the taser on Oliver for several seconds, but to Google it feels like years.

Finally, Plus pulls away. Oliver’s eyes roll back, his jaw goes slack, and he collapses, hitting the ground with a thud. There’s a black mark on his neck where the taser fried his skin. Plus immediately tosses the taser away, like he can’t bear to hold it anymore. He looks panicked. Google takes a moment to quiet the thoughts swirling in his mind, the worry for Oliver, the realization that his little brother almost just killed him, his tight-sprung nerves from this whole mission and the bittersweet relief of it being over – and swallows it down for Plus.

“Thank you,” Google tells him, “I had the chance to use it earlier, but I couldn’t, and I almost paid for it. You did the right thing, Green.”

Plus relaxes a bit, smiles shakily. Google hears more footsteps, and looks past Plus to see Chrome, leaning against a cubicle wall, eyes glowing red in the dark. He looks rough, and it’s clear he’s only standing through the support of the wall. It’s a relief to see him alive and in one piece, and by the flicker of recognition in his eyes, he hasn’t lost all his memories just yet. Still, Google frowns.

“The plan was to get Chrome out of danger first,” Google reminds Plus, “And then provide me assistance if necessary.”

“I thought you said I did the right thing,” Plus replies cheekily.

Google sighs, but he finds himself grinning.

“Alright, smartass,” he says in a breathy chuckle, leaning down to pick up Oliver. “Let’s get out of here.”

Plus nods, his smile no longer so nervous. He turns to return to Chrome’s side, and Google has a moment to look down at Oliver as he scoops him up. He gently kisses Oliver’s forehead, letting a burst of relief bloom in his chest at the ability to finally do so again, to finally have Oliver close enough. But despite this relief and the earlier genuine moment of humor with Plus, he still feels sick, deep down in his gut. Every mark on Oliver, the black mark on his neck, the hole in his wrist joint, every bruise from Google’s punches, every cut from scraping against rubble, fills Google with guilt. But between the two of them, it’s pretty obvious who came out worse: Google’s vision is still blurry, his hand hurts from Oliver stabbing him with the pen, his hair and the back of his neck are singed, his broken nose throbs, and he likely has twice as many bruises and cuts as Oliver. Google knows that he has nothing to feel guilty about. Oliver’s injuries will be easy to fix.

But there’s also the matter of getting Oliver’s memories back, of de-brainwashing him. Chrome clearly needs some memory restoration too, but likely not nearly as much as Oliver. Chrome shouldn’t be too difficult to get a memory backup into, to repair. Oliver’s been like this so long, how are they going to begin to fix him?

For now, Google decides to concentrate on getting his brothers out of Enigma Data before it burns to the ground.

He walks past Plus and Chrome to lead the way. If he had a hand free, he’d ruffle Chrome’s hair as he passed, but instead, he offers a quick grin. Chrome grins back, uncertain but still genuine. As Google walks through the building and down the stairs to leave the way they came in, he never stops listening to the sound of Plus and Chrome’s footsteps behind him. Uneven and heavy as they are thanks to Chrome’s inability to walk on his own, they’re proof that Google’s finally gotten all his brothers back, proof that the Googles are a complete set once more.

Despite his worries about restoring Oliver, he can’t help but feel a swell of relief, and of pride in the strength and resilience of his little brothers.

Once they make it out of the building, Dark and Wilford are there, too. Dark is still as composed as over, but there’s a few spots of blood on his neck and dress shirt, and his aura waves wildly, still eager to kill. Wilford, meanwhile, is absolutely drenched in blood and still has a crazed, pink glint to his eyes. He whistles at the sight of Google.

“Ollie sure did a number on you, huh?” he asks, drawl more pronounced than usual.

“Save it,” Google mutters, “His job was to escort other workers to safety, where are they?”

“Oh, I got them as they reached the bottom of the fire escape,” Wilford explains, “It was like playing Whack-A-Mole!”

“There’s no one left alive in the building, I’ve already confirmed it,” Dark adds, aura waving as if to give emphasis. “I already destroyed their security tapes and as much data as I could, and Wilford has left some explosives throughout the building to get anything I missed.”

“Yup!” Wilford affirms, “And they’re gonna go off in about, uhhhhhhh, soon.”

“Let’s go then,” Google says, “We have what we came here for.”

But Google knows this whole trial isn’t over yet. It won’t be over until Chrome and Oliver are fixed, until everything is back to normal. The work has only just begun.

Dark nods, and takes the whole group home through his void in a split second.

#googleplier #google oliver #markiplier fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #markiplier #whumptober2020 #kristin says stuff #i'm v happy with this #i hope you guys like it too :D

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marveloussupernerd · 4 years

Text

epiphany - Yoosung Kim

I fell asleep in the middle of this one too. This seems to be a trend for when I write for Yoosung haha. “Luckily” I woke up around 3:15 and got to work finishing it. A little disclaimer: they never explicitly state what exactly Unknown did to Yoosung’s eye, so I did take a bit of creative freedom. Also have no idea how eye injuries work and did NOT want to Google it (that stuff grossed me out). I think the description is pretty mild / lacking, so hopefully it doesn’t gross you out if you’re sensitive to it?

Warnings: hospital, eye injury (kind of speculating on Yoosung’s injury in his route)

Summary: Yoosung has to return to the hospital after the RFA party to get more treatment, but you decide to visit him this time around to find out what happened and make sure he’s okay

Yoosung was the first to pull away from the kiss, cheeks bright red as he glanced at the people at the RFA party staring at him, breathing heavily as he attempted to catch his breath.

“Yoosung,” you whispered, hands very carefully making your way close to the wraps around his eye. “What happened? I thought you said you were safe.”

“Oh, about that,” he looked down at the ground, not wanting to meet your eye. He looked like a kicked puppy, surely disappointed in himself for lying to you. “I didn’t want you to call off the party or worry or anything. Plus, I am safe! Just a little less healthy than I was before.”

“Yoosung, we should go back to the hospital,” V said, making his way over to the two of you. He greeted you quickly, as this was your first time meeting, but focused his attention on Yoosung.

“You have to go back?” You asked. You hadn’t realized it was that bad.

“Oh, uh, don’t worry!” Yoosung put on his brightest smile for you, grabbing both of your hands in his. “They just wanna keep me overnight again so they can monitor it and change my wraps and stuff. No big deal.”

“Overnight... again?”

“You’re so sweet. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay. I’ll be sure to call you and text you a lot.” He seemed to be trying to wink. You couldn’t really tell, but it did make you laugh, which made him smile even wider. “Take care of yourself, okay?” He asked. You nodded.

“I should be the one telling you that. Let me know when you get there.”

He left. The second he exited the room you worked on your plan; you really wanted to visit him. Jumin made a few calls to ensure you’d be able to stay with him past visiting hours if he wanted you to. Two hours later, you were admitted into his room.

He was sleeping in his hospital bed, a little bit of drool on his pillow. You took a seat in the chair next to his bed, deciding to wait patiently for him to wake up. His nose twitched, eyebrow furrowing. He muttered your name. He was adorable. His eye fluttered open, then shut, then open again.

“Yoosung...?” You asked, unsure if he was entirely awake. He groaned your name again. You giggled. “Are you awake?” You questioned, your voice soft enough that you wouldn’t stir him if he was asleep and dreaming.

“This... isn’t a dream?” He asked, his eye opening, voice groggy. He quickly wiped the drool on the side of his mouth. “You’re really here?”

“Mhm,” you stood up to get close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I hope that’s okay with you. I can come back another time if you’d like.”

“No!” He sounded more alert now, his voice had an urgent edge to it. “I’m so happy you’re here. You should stay here... uh, if you want.”

“Of course. I wasn’t planning on only watching you sleep then leaving when you woke up,” you teased. His cheeks flushed red.

“You haven’t even changed your clothes from the party,” he commented, eyeing your ensemble. He was right. You didn’t want to waste time stopping home and changing.

“Yeah... I forgot to get you a gift too. I’ll bring one in tomorrow or something. I just wanted to get here as quick as possible,” you promised.

“You kidding? Having you here with me is the best gift ever,” he grinned. “I won’t be here for long, but you sure do brighten this hospital room.”

“Do you think they’ll let you out tomorrow?” You sat back down, reaching out your hand so you could hold his, he grabbed it, linking fingers with you, letting your thumb be on top so you could trace circles around the back of his hand.

“They aren’t entirely sure. They don’t see this type of thing everyday,” he stated. He was so indifferent about the whole thing. He was probably trying to be brave.

“Does it hurt?”

He played with his blanket with his free hand, not quite meeting your eyes. “I mean... yeah. But I’m okay. It’ll get better.”

There was a knock on the door, which drew both of your attention. It was a doctor, followed by a nurse. “Hi Yoosung, how’s it feeling?” The doctor had a dazzling smile and seemed very nonchalant. He must see things like this pretty frequently in his field.

“Uh, it’s okay. It’s starting to hurt more again.” He was so brave. It really was amazing to see.

“Alright, we’ll get some more pain meds for you. I want to replace your bandages now though if that’s okay and take a quick look at everything.” The nurse started very carefully unraveling the bandages around his head, the doctor pulling out a little light.

“You might wanna look away for this,” Yoosung advised, glancing at you. “Uhm... it’s not pretty.”

You squeezed his hand even tighter, reassuring your presence. “So, who’s your friend here?” The doctor asked, trying to keep conversation going to take Yoosung’s mind off the pain.

“We’re dating actually,” Yoosung replied. He sounded so confident and happy.

“Congratulations! It’s always nice to have someone to visit you.” They peeled the last of the bandage off. “Okay, it’s gonna be a little bright, but try your best to keep your eye open,” he ordered.

You couldn’t look away. You couldn’t see his entire eye very well, but what you could see... the entire area around it was dark and swollen and kind of crusty. The nurse pulled out some sort of wipe to try and keep the area clean. His eye was very red, very tiny needle-thin pricks covering across his eyeball. “Jesus Christ Yoosung,” you commented in awe, words spilling out of your mouth before you had a chance to think about it. You squeezed his hand tighter. “That’s what you’ve been saying isn’t that bad?”

Yoosung laughed, a tear instinctively flowing out of his bad eye from all the light and irritation. “He’s one of the bravest patients I’ve had in a while, that’s for sure,” the doctor commented, turning to smile reassuringly at you. “Now Yoosung, what do you see?”

He closed his good eye, squinting out of the other. It might have been cute in a different situation. “Colors are still pretty good. Everything just looks kind of smeared though.” His voice was steady; he was so professional about this all.

The doctor clicked off his flashlight, the nurse handing him a roll of new bandages. He got to work wrapping it back around Yoosung’s eye. “It’s still pretty infected, so I’m going to call in a higher dose of antibiotics. And then something more for the pain too.” He took a step back, as though to admire his handiwork. “You’re doing everything you can, though. Just try to relax and let your body take care of it. Relaxing is the most important.”

“Sure thing. Thank you, Doctor,” Yoosung smiled, a sort of sad smile admittedly, as the doctor left, bidding the two of you goodbye and promising to get his medicine as soon as possible.

It was just the two of you again. You glanced up at him. It was silent for a little while, the two of you glancing at each other but not knowing what words to say. Eventually, he spoke first. “I know it’s scary looking... don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay. I’m sorry if it grossed you out or scared you or anything.”

Tears leaked from your eyes; you stood abruptly and gave him the best hug you could given he was in a hospital bed. “I’m sorry,” you cried. He wrapped his arms around your back, rubbing it soothingly. “You didn’t deserve any of this. You’ve been so brave.”

“I feel like I’ve been able to be brave thanks to you,” he was smiling for real now, eye sparkling. “I want to be brave. I don’t want to worry you. I’m sorry I have.”

You paused for a second, voice shaky. “What exactly happened at the hacker’s place?” You pulled away from him slightly so you could study his face, it falling slightly. “You don’t have to tell me! If you don’t wanna relive it that’s okay.”

“No, it’s okay. But maybe you should sit down,” he advised, still smiling. He was always smiling, a genuine smile to calm your nerves. You plopped back down on your chair, reaching out to hold his hand again. “Things were going well for a while, then the hacker found us. He had a button. I was afraid he would blow us up and the apartment... Seven was... weird. Like he knew him somehow. He asked me to stay in the hall for a while.”

“That is sort of weird. Maybe he knew him from hacking school or something?” You rationalized. You didn’t want Yoosung to lose his faith in Seven; he was one of his closest friends.

“Oh! I thought that too. Anyways, he tried to set off the bomb but I stopped him. Told Seven to run away with the detonator as fast as he could, but the hacker caught me. I had ruined his plans so he wanted to have payback or something,” Yoosung’s eyes focused on his blanket. “He knew I wanted to be a vet so he decided to try and take my eyesight so it would be impossible.”

“So that’s what you want to be,” you commented, trying to brighten the mood slightly, thinking back to when he kept his major a secret. He chuckled. “I still think you’d be great at that. With or without a bad eye.”

“I think he was trying to get them both, but he ran out of time. I’m not sure what exactly happened, but a bunch of like SWAT guys broke in and helped me out of the place.”

“That’s crazy,”

“Yeah. It was. But I’m here now,” he looked up, smiling, “With you.”

You were still in shock. “How... how did you endure all that torture though?”

His ears started to heat up red. “Honestly, I thought of you. It was the one thing that helped take my mind off the pain while he was doing...” he shivered, “that. I just dreamt of you the whole time. I couldn’t leave you. Not yet. We were only pre-dating at the time.”

You leaned forward, pressing a very gentle kiss to his lips. “You’re so so brave. My knight in shining armor.”

“I wasn’t until I met you. But I wanna be brave for you.” Up super close he looked exhausted, his under eyes slightly dark, eye droopy.

“You’re so sweet,” you said, your voice quiet this time. “You look tired. Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

“But... but then when I wake up it’ll probably be night and you’ll be gone!” He whined. He seemed nervous this time to be alone.

“Nope. Jumin pulled some strings. I can stay all night if you want me to.”

“Really?” The smile on his face was contagious. “Of course I want you to... is it really okay if I fall asleep for a little?”

“Of course Yoosung. Get some rest, and when you wake up I’ll be right by your side.”

He shifted to get comfortable, hand still holding yours tight. You scooted your chair closer to him so that he didn’t have to strain his arm to hold your hand. You figured it was helping him feel a bit more grounded. “Good night Yoosung. Sweet dreams,” you whispered.

“Only if I meet you in them,” he uttered, his eye fluttering shut peacefully.

#mystic messenger #mysme #Yoosung #folklore

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celatum-apis · 11 months

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Matt Morgan Schedules Back Surgery Amidst Severe Pain Struggles - Wrestling World

With rehab, a nerve block injection in his spine, and natural treatments, he concluded his wrestling career in 2014, primarily pain-free. However, ... from Google Alert - nerve surgery https://ift.tt/b8E0nWd

#IFTTT #Google Alert - nerve surgery

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thenugking · 3 years

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Grand Academy For Future Villains II: Attack of the Sequel, Chapter 7: The Seventh Chapter. A commentary for Three.

General CW for the whole thing: parental abuse, internalised dehumanisation as a trauma response. Three’s not doing well.

Specific CW for this chapter: kink mention and (unintentional) lack of aftercare, suicide ideation

Game 1

Game 2

Alternatively, read on Google Docs here

***

Loading Alarm Module…

UNAUTHORIZED INTRUDER IN THE MAILROOM

ALL FACULTY TO BATTLE STATIONS

ALERT ALERT ALERT ALERT ALERT

You know, I was pleased at the end of the last chapter, when Three was able to catch a break to go and have some fun virtual reality sex. I forgot that in the middle of this, Val was going to break into the mailroom, and give DarkBoard an anxiety attack. And look, I don’t want to get too much into the details of Three’s sex life, but it’s not exactly a secret that they’re a massive sub. And they like their sex rough, and they are going to be finding themself pushed out of a very intense scene with zero warning, with their dom too distracted by a panic attack to provide any kind of aftercare. I tried to give them a good time.

In the days and weeks after, wild rumors sprout and grow. Val's gone, that much is indisputable. So is Professor Arthenes. Your performance with Sona and Glupe in the simulation was witnessed by the entire school, but it seems that only the auditors and your nemesis—and perhaps Professor Ulik—know the truth of what happened in the garden.

Anyway, there’s not a whole lot to talk about for most of this chapter, with Scorpius being the one in the garden. But if Professor Ulik knows what happened, it’s likely Three does too. So it’s Three that Scorpius goes to when ze wants to get back to the mail room and follow Val, and make sure ze’s okay.

Three certainly has some misgivings about this, but they don’t want Val to feel they have to follow their destiny. Being bound to a certain path you don’t necessarily want to follow is exhausting, and painful--well, at least it sounds that way. And Scorpius does always get results. Somehow.

Through Three’s experience with the gardens, DarkBoard’s help, and the auditors’ permission, Three and Scorpius get into the mailroom. Scorpius leaves to find Val, leaving Three there alone.

Three looks around for a moment, and wonders what it would be like, to just fall into someone else’s narrative, and truly become a background character, and have nothing they do and nothing that happens to them matter at all. Isn’t that the end goal of trying to numb their feelings and be nothing but a tool? And instead they’re stuck with conflicting loyalties, and constant fear, and imperfect grades, and always being so tired, and always feeling so guilty, and having to make their own decisions because Maedryn’s too distracted and DarkBoard’s too temperamental and Ulik’s too stressed herself and Xi’s too not physically here anymore. It would be so easy to just let go of everything. It would be such a relief.

But without them, Ulik would have to handle everything herself, and Maedryn would either lose control or put too much pressure on Sona, and DarkBoard would need a new minion, and Aurion would have to find someone else to practice his gloating monologues on. Narrative oblivion can at least wait a little longer.

#"This…this wasn't my plan. None of it was. The mailroom thing, Professor Arthenes—that was all Val. I don't know what to do."

Sona is taken aback for a moment, then bursts out laughing. "You really had me going there, Three! All right, all right, so you're not going to tell me, fine. Your mom's the same way, did you know that? Never tells me anything. She was the one who got me the dress code exemption for my cannon arm, though, so she's cool."

She gets up from your bed. "Hey. Speaking of your mother. Is she OK? I tried talking to her about getting Science Fiction into a new dorm, and she just started talking about restocking the cleaning fluid. I guess it's all the clones. She really is worried about the house tournament, though. Keeps talking about our place in reality and what happens to us if we get our accreditation revoked. Too complicated for me! But I'm gonna get through this just fine, and once I do, I'll remember you were my friend. If you were my friend. Are you my friend? Wait, don't answer that, it's too cheesy."

As seen in the last scene, Three isn’t particularly doing well. I mean, they’re doing better than my last playthroughs, where they had Val as their roommate, were very much caught up in Val’s destiny, didn’t have their own space to retreat to, and never caught a single break. But this year has very much been taking its toll on them and while they’re much more proactive than they were last year, that was born from a despair over the fate of the rebel faculty that never really went away, and they’re out of their depth in being expected to make decisions so much.

Sona confirms it was Maedryn that got her the dress code exemption, which is unsurprising, if still upsetting. She does seem… closer to Maedryn than Three is entirely comfortable with. And Three is worried about Maedryn too. They’d been hoping that maybe Maedryn was just struggling to differentiate them from the clones, but Sona getting the same treatment isn’t good.

Although Maedryn’s distraction could make it easier to take her down.

...Three isn’t entirely sure where that thought came from. Too many lectures on betrayal, probably. It doesn’t mean anything.

Anyway, Three and Sona aren’t really friends. Sona’s not like Aurion, she seems like she’d be genuinely hurt by betrayal. And a friend wouldn’t undermine her efforts in trying to have Sci-Fi win the genre tournament, or subtly hint to their mother about how Sona may be unreliable. Three hopes Sona’s right, and she’ll get through it all just fine. They wish she didn’t think Maedryn was so cool.

#Take over Arthenes' core courses.

Professor Ulik looks exhausted at the proposition, but immediately sees its value. "You're right, Three. Someone needs to take over the Intermediate Antagonism course. That means more work for you, of course. I can't have you always running off for the house tournament. But someone needs to keep this school running; I know that, you know that, and I think the auditors know that."

Right. The school needs to be kept running. Three’s been letting themself get a bit too emotional lately. There are things they keep nearly thinking about. Time to just focus on work and suppress everything else harder than ever.

#three #scorpius sanderson #marsh ocs #grand academy for future villains #choice of games #darkboard #valorous flame #sona iatra #maedryn #sara ulik

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heartlesslywhumping · 5 years

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Head injuries: A rundown for whumpers

Part Two

We’re back! Once again, I would warn you to proceed at your own discretion. There are no pictures and light descriptions only but there are discussions of medical injuries and anatomy.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a medical professional, do not look to this post for professional advice or treatment. Occasionally I consult with my EMR certified friends and family but the majority of the information I am sharing has been gathered from going down Google rabbit holes. Most of my research came from authorized medical websites but the internet is the internet. All of this will be lovely for creative purposes but not for real life application

Boredom Disclaimer: This is probably going to be suuuuper dry and boring. I try to keep it short and relevant but who knows how well I actually do there.

Today, friends, we are discussing potentially traumatic brain injuries. That term is not the official term, it’s just how I classify these guys and it’s pretty self-explanatory.

Hematomas

A hematoma is the clotting of blood outside the blood vessels. Hematomas are fairly common and can present as bruises, however we’re discussing the less common ones that happen in the head. If a hematoma happens inside the brain, the clotting can lead to pressure building up inside the skull, resulting in loss of consciousness or permanent brain damage.

Hematomas are caused by an injury to the wall of a blood vessel, prompting blood to seep out of the blood vessel into the surrounding tissues. A hematoma describes bleeding which has more or less clotted, whereas a hemorrhage signifies active, ongoing bleeding. Most hematomas resolve spontaneously over time as the blood debris is removed and the blood vessel wall is repaired by the body's repair mechanisms. Other times, surgically removing or evacuating the blood in a hematoma becomes necessary based on its symptoms or location.

Intracranial hematomas occur in or around the brain. The different types are classified by their location in the brain. These can range from mild head injuries to quite serious and potentially life-threatening injuries. Below are listed the various kinds:

Epidural hematomas occur when a blood clot forms underneath the skull, but on top of the tough covering that surrounds the brain (the dura). They usually come from a tear in an artery that runs just under the skull. Epidural hematomas are usually associated with a skull fracture.

Subdural hematomas occur when a blood clot forms underneath the skull and underneath the dura, but outside of the brain. These can form from a tear in the veins that go from the brain to the dura, or from a cut on the brain itself. They are sometimes, but not always, associated with a skull fracture.

Signs and symptoms may develop a right after a blow to the head, or they may take weeks or longer to appear. One might seem fine after a head injury in a period called the lucid interval. However, with time, pressure on the brain increases, producing some or all of the following signs and symptoms:

Increasing headache

Vomiting

Drowsiness and progressive loss of consciousness

Dizziness

Confusion

Unequal pupil size

Slurred speech

As more blood fills the brain or the narrow space between the brain and skull, other signs and symptoms may become apparent, such as:

Lethargy

Seizures

Unconsciousness

Hemorrhages

A hemorrhage is uncontrolled bleeding. Bleeding in the brain is creatively known as a brain hemorrhage. Brain hemorrhages are typically caused by a sudden blow to the head, a ruptured blood vessel, a tumor pushing on the brain, or even a brain infection. When the bleeding spreads to other areas of the brain or deprives the brain of oxygen, the damage may be permanent. Severity depends on how much bleeding there is, but over time any amount of blood can cause pressure buildup.

When blood from trauma irritates brain tissues, it causes swelling. This increases pressure on nearby brain tissue, reducing vital blood flow and killing brain cells.

The symptoms include:

A sudden severe headache

Seizures with no previous history of seizures

Weakness in an arm or leg

Nausea or vomiting

Decreased alertness; lethargy

Changes in vision

Tingling or numbness

Difficulty speaking or understanding speech

Difficulty swallowing

Difficulty writing or reading

Loss of fine motor skills, such as hand tremors

Loss of coordination

Loss of balance

An abnormal sense of taste

Loss of consciousness

Partial paralysis or numbness

Personality changes

Memory loss

Edema

“Edema” is just a fancy term for swelling. Many injuries cause swelling of the surrounding tissues, but it’s more serious when it occurs in the brain as the skull can’t stretch to accommodate swelling. Swelling can occur in specific locations or throughout the brain. This leads to pressure buildup in the brain, causing the brain to press against the skull. This pressure can prevent blood from flowing to the brain, which deprives it of the oxygen it needs to function. Swelling can also block other fluids from leaving the brain, making the swelling even worse. Damage or death of brain cells may result.

Symptoms of brain swelling vary, depending on the severity and the cause. Usually they begin suddenly.

Symptoms include:

Headache

Neck pain or stiffness

Nausea or vomiting

Dizziness

Irregular breathing

Vision loss or changes

Memory loss

Inability to walk

Difficulty speaking

Stupor

Seizures

Loss of consciousness

#whump explained #whump reference #writing reference #medical discussions

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hookedontaronfics · 5 years

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A Beautiful Reason to Fight series - Chapter 1

NEW SERIES ALERT

Chapter Title: Diagnosis Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Slight cursing, medical drama (trigger warning) A/N: This is a new series that follows OC character Kinsey McCormick’s battle with cancer, and how Taron helps carry her through it. It’s a difficult subject to write about, so if you don’t want to read any kind of medical drama, this story is not for you. I enjoy writing stories that are real and gritty and human. I will never hide away from the difficult things we experience, and I feel there is something to be said for testing the strength of a character through the adversity they face. I have been touched by cancer in my own life and know many of you have been as well, whether it’s a friend or co-worker or loved one, or even you yourself. So I hope that the light, happy moments between the difficult ones will make this story compelling, and that you’ll root for a happy ending too. X

In typical me fashion, I was already running late for an important appointment. I’d snoozed my alarm far too many times, and I’d just gotten out of the shower and toweled off when my phone chimed.

<Hey, I’m here!>

I accidentally knocked my hand into the corner of my dresser in my haste to pick up my phone. “Ouch!” I screeched, clutching my hand to my chest for a moment and then nearly tripping over a discarded pair of jeans on the bedroom floor, which I grabbed and hopped slightly to pull on, struggling to clasp the button. I’m not sure when this pair had gotten too small for me, but I should probably lay off the late-night takeout runs, I thought ruefully.

<Be right down!> I texted back quickly when I regained the use of my hand. I pulled my wet hair into a quick bun and then rescued a day-old shirt from the corner chair. I gave it a quick sniff test before pulling it on over my bra. I didn’t have time for makeup but it wasn’t the first time my boyfriend had seen me that way. Believe me, after two years together there wasn’t much that could surprise him.

I flung my purse over my shoulder and managed to make it out of my apartment, locking the door behind me before pounding my way down the three flights of stairs and fairly bursting out of the building into the early morning sunshine. I spied my boyfriend’s car and ran across the dewy grass, not caring that it was soaking the canvas of my sneakers. I yanked open the car door and flopped into the seat, making my boyfriend chuckle.

“Glad you could make it,” he teased me good-naturedly, handing me a coffee that I graciously accepted.

“I’m an eternal mess. You know this, Taron,” I giggled slightly as he leaned in to steal a quick kiss. I could taste the sugary sweetness of his hazelnut latte - two pumps of syrup - lingering on his lips.

“I know it and I love it,” he said, his green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “So, are you ready for today?” he asked casually as I took a long sip of my coffee.

“I don’t know. I feel like I might puke,” I admitted, feeling a bit of a squeeze in my chest and unsure if it was only from nerves or one of the symptoms I’d started experiencing.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, squeezing my knee reassuringly. “Having an answer will be better than the unknown,” he said gently.

“I know, I’m just… nervous as hell. Everything in my life feels like it depends on these results.”

“Then we should get to it,” he smiled at me, though I could detect the anxiety and fear in his eyes that I’m sure was reflected in my own. He put the car in gear and we pulled out onto the streets of London. I tried my hardest to distract myself with the music on the radio, scarfing a breakfast sandwich that he’d been thoughtful enough to buy for me, as I’d had no time to grab anything to eat, and trying to pretend like this was just another city jaunt for us and not the life-altering appointment it would turn out to be.

After checking in, we waited in the lobby, my leg bouncing uncontrollably with the anxiety I was feeling. To his credit, Taron did his best to keep me laughing and smiling, but the wait and anticipation was killing me slowly.

“Kinsey McCormick!” the nurse called, and I looked to Taron and let out a loud sigh.

“This is it,” I said, and he threaded his fingers through mine, determined to not let me feel alone. We were shown to a room and made to wait a little bit longer, making even more small talk until my doctor finally entered the room.

“Kinsey, how are you feeling?” he asked kindly, also shaking Taron’s hand as well.

“Anxious. Nervous. Still alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said, a bit cheekily. I couldn’t help it; my sarcastic side came out when I was feeling fearful and cornered.

“Well, I’ll get right down to brass tacks for you then. The results of your scan came back showing a malignant mass in your lymph nodes in the chest area. The biopsy came back positive for stage II T-cell lymphoblastic lymphoma, which is a rare and fast-growing but treatable form of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. We’ll have to do more tests to see if it’s in your bone marrow, but the prognosis is currently good with aggressive treatment.”

“Cancer. I have cancer,” I said, barely able to put enough force behind the words to make them audible. I felt the room closing in on me, and it was difficult to breathe. I felt myself get light-headed but Taron was saying my name and stroking my face sweetly and trying to bring me back down to earth.

“Just breathe, just focus on that. It’s going to be okay,” he said while the doctor waited patiently, likely having been through many of these reactions over time.

“How good is good?” I finally managed to ask, squeezing Taron’s hand so hard it was probably hurting him, but he didn’t even flinch.

“93 percent for complete remission, at this point. I promise we’re going to help you fight this every step of the way. I’ve got a referral to an oncologist already set up for you. It’s not going to be easy, by any stretch, but there’s going to be a long, beautiful life for you ahead.” He was trying to be reassuring, but I couldn’t stop repeating I have cancer over and over in my mind.

Of course the diagnosis made sense of the symptoms I’d been experiencing, the night sweats and high fevers for no reason, the chest pain and shortness of breath doing simple things. I’d gone through plenty of other tests to try and figure out why someone so young was experiencing these things. The most uncomfortable had been the heart cath but my heart had come back completely normal. I was fit and in shape so why stairs had become a challenge had vexed my doctors for weeks. So yes, we had an answer, but that answer scared me beyond words I could express.

I was so grateful Taron had insisted on going with me to this appointment; I’m not sure I could focus enough to hear half of what the doctor was explaining, but Taron was listening intently. I would never be able to fully explain how grateful I was to have him in my life, and now in this battle ahead of me. I was also angry at my body for betraying me; I’d eaten the kale and went to the gym 4 times a week and did everything I could to take care of it and still it had grown a malignant mass. That phrase sent shivers racing through me and I felt the acid rising in my throat. I swallowed hard, not wanting to revisit my breakfast.

“It’s not a death sentence and I don’t want to treat your case that way,” I clued in finally to what my doctor was saying. “There will always be a risk of that with cancer, but modern medicine has come a long way in its treatment options, and new ones are being tested and approved every day. I know this is a difficult diagnosis to hear and to process, of course, and there will be many questions to come, but you will have a team whose job it is to keep you alive and they’ll stop at nothing to get you well again.”

“Right, thanks. I’m not exactly feeling the confidence at the moment, but I appreciate the honesty,” I said sarcastically, feeling Taron squeezing my hand in support again.

“I’ll have you schedule your follow-up appointment on the way out and Kinsey, stay away from Google. It will only serve to make you freak out. The best thing to do is just to talk to your oncologist, alright?” he said, anticipating the first thing I planned on doing as soon as I got out of the office. I had never heard of lymphoblastic lymphoma and I wanted to know the horror I would be dealing with ahead of time, but Taron seemed to take that advice to heart.

Once I’d made my appointment for the following week and we’d stepped back out into the day, he took both of my hands in his and pulled me in to him sweetly. “Hey, it’s Friday, it’s beautiful out, and you don’t have to work for once. Why don’t we go walk around the Strand? Get your mind off of this because stewing over it won’t solve it,” he suggested. I could only nod my head in agreement, not trusting my voice. The day was indeed beautiful, the sun full out and the temperature warm, but there was now a chill deep in my bones, and a tumor living in my chest.

“The best way to not let this cancer win is to keep living your life to the fullest,” he said softly. “And I’m going to be here reminding you to do that every minute of every day. We aren’t going to let this win, okay?” he said, brushing my hair back from my face sweetly.

“Okay,” I agreed, my eyes watering slightly. He gently brushed the tears from my cheeks with his thumb, just giving me the moment, aware of how much this news had just shaken me to the core. And there would be many more tears down the road, too, but I didn’t want to ruin this day I had with Taron either. Often we had stolen minutes during breaks at work, lunches or dinners together, falling asleep during late-night movies on the couch. But today was fully ours, and I wanted to make the most of it.

“Alright,” I said, taking a deep, shaky breath and wincing slightly against the pinprick of pain in my chest. That had been happening more and more often and now I was grateful I hadn’t ignored the discomfort. I didn’t know much about cancer, but I knew the first two stages meant we’d caught it early; it meant my chances of surviving were much greater and I had to hold onto that positive outlook.

Taron drove us across the city, having to circle a few times to find parking, but he knew I always loved popping in the little shops along the Strand and being able to lose myself amongst the tourists did lift my spirits a little bit. We walked hand in hand, browsing through the wares at the Covent Garden antique market, TopShop, Primark, Carnaby Street, the high-end Liberty department store, and even poking about in Lambert’s souvenir shop. Taron kept trying on kitschy Union Jack items and making me laugh, as he insisted that I take photos and I kept trying to pretend he wasn’t actually mine. Being able to laugh again somehow broke through some of the heaviness of the day.

We stopped at the Battersea Pie shop and managed to snag a spot at one of the busy counters, digging into our meat pies with gusto.

“We’re going to kick this cancer’s ass,” Taron smiled at me, leaning in for a kiss but I leaned away.

“Gross, I don’t want your meat-pie breath!” I teased him, so he reached over and tickled me in the ribcage instead because he knew I couldn’t stand it. “Taaaaron!” I squealed, laughing and slapping his hand away. “You’re such a little arse.”

“My arse is actually quite big, thanks,” he said with a wink, making me giggle. I set my chin in my hand and gazed at him. “What?” he grinned.

“Nothing. Just being reminded how much I absolutely love you.”

“The feeling is mutual, my love,” he smiled. “We have so far gotten through 100 percent of our worst days because we have each other. And I believe in that. This is just another one of those. And I know that this is going to get worse for you before it gets better, but I’m not going to let you go a day without knowing how loved and supported you are.”

“So you’ll love me even when I lose my hair and go bald?” I asked, trying to make a joke that felt flat even to me.

“I’ll go bald with you. I’ll take you wig shopping. None of that scares me. You’ll still be beautiful. That doesn’t define who you are to me,” he said, picking up my hand in his and kissing my fingers and making my heart soar. “I know your soul, your spirit, your heart, and cancer can’t take that away from you.”

“I’m scared that it might. That I’ll become unrecognizable even to myself,” I said quietly.

“I’m not going to believe that until I see it happen. Maybe things will get a bit shit for a while, but you’re a warrior. And I won’t let this break you, alright?” he said, fiercely determined to see me through. We sat like that in silence for a moment, lost to our own thoughts and emotions, before Taron suggested we keep moving along. We ended up buying a bubble waffle to share and retiring to the Victoria Embankment Gardens, one of my favorite places in the city.

The lunch rush was over so we were able to find a bench to sit on, which was a good thing because I was already feeling worn out. We took turns tearing off pieces of the waffle and scooping at the ice cream nestled inside, enjoying the treat and watching everyone else going about their business, having a jog or just meandering along the walk. There was a slight breeze off the Thames and it just felt quite nice to be there among the flowers and memorials with the one person in the world I wanted to spend all of my days with.

Of course between Taron’s acting gigs and my own full-time job and schooling, sometimes we had to spend time apart, but that’s what the internet and video chat was for. It certainly made the distance feel like less of a barrier and we were really happy. I could feel that as I leaned against Taron, his arm wrapped lightly around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. We didn’t even need words to know how the other was feeling. Of course I was feeling my world had gone off-kilter a bit, but Taron kept me grounded as well.

Because of my obviously waning energy, we decided just to go back to my apartment for the evening, where we could cook dinner and laze about watching some of our favorite shows together. One of those shows was “Million Little Things,” and the particular episode we were picking up with included quite a bit about Maggie’s journey with cancer. And I hate to admit it but I just lost it. I was crying so hard Taron had to pause the show and pulled me into him, letting me blubber all over his shirt.

“I can’t do this, I can’t,” I stuttered through my sobs.

“Yes you can, Kins. You have to,” he said patiently, staying calm while I broke apart, all of my fears and anger pouring out of me. He held me tightly while I trembled in his arms, stroking my hair and reassuring me as much as it was possible to do. This new reality was terrible and a part of me wished I could go back a day and freeze it there forever, the day before my entire world had tilted, started sliding toward oblivion. My future dreams, my hopes of having a family, of starting an amazing career, they were now clinging precariously to the edge. Cancer could instantly wipe those hopes out.

It took a while for me to calm down, but eventually I had cried myself out. “I’m sorry,” I managed after a bit, but Taron just shook his head.

“No need to be sorry to me. You needed that,” he said, and I saw him hastily wipe at his own eyes, which were a bit red.

“Oh Taron,” I said sweetly as he looked at me, trying to blink away his lingering tears as well.

“I love you so much, you know,” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I could never stand to lose you. I’d lose myself, I think,” he said, his vulnerability tearing right through me.

“I love you too. You’re not going to lose me if I have anything to say about that. And we have plenty to say, like fuck this cancer,” I said, making him chuckle despite himself.

“You’re right, it can fuck right off,” he agreed, tilting my chin up and kissing me, our fears and worries still lingering between us but also so much love.

“We should finish our episode,” I said after we broke apart.

“You sure?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m good. I can be like Maggie. She’s indomitable,” I smiled at that.

“Okay then. Be like Maggie and her badass pink wig,” he grinned, nuzzling sweetly into my neck.

We turned the show back on and managed to make it through without any further breakdowns, but then decided to call it a night. I was absolutely knackered and had an early work shift the next morning, and I wasn’t looking forward to having to tell my boss about my diagnosis. I wasn’t sure how or when to reveal it to my co-workers either; I assumed at some point I would have to take leave from work. Too many thoughts were swirling through my brain as we got ready for bed. We didn’t live together, but two years into our relationship and Taron had his own toothbrush at my place, and some of his clothes had just migrated over, and vice versa. We spent plenty of time apart but occasionally we did spend the night; we had that level of comfort with each other now.

I was more than relieved to crawl into bed with him, our foreheads resting against each other’s for a moment as we gazed at each other. “One day at a time, Kinsey. We’ll beat this together,” he said, his sweet eyes searching my own tired ones.

“And when we’re on the other side of this?” I asked softly, running my fingers over the slight stubble along his jaw.

“Then I intend to make this a forever,” he said sweetly, making my heart beat faster. It wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned it; when you’ve been together for a couple of years, the idea of marriage gets brought up. Of course you want to know that your relationship might move toward that eventuality even if both of you aren’t ready for it yet. But to hear him say it now, it gave me a beautiful reason to fight. I wanted that future he was offering me.

“You are my happily ever after, Taron. I’m so lucky to have you,” I said, as he kissed the tip of my nose and made me giggle slightly.

“It’s the other way around. I’m the luckiest bloke to have you,” he grinned, capturing my lips in more sweet kisses, until we both needed air. I tucked my head in against his chest and let him snuggle me in, pulling the blankets around us tightly, and in that cocoon we felt safe together. I slipped off to sleep, if not peacefully, at least feeling like I could face each day as long as I had Taron.

******

June 14, 2017

Dearest diary:

My name is Kinsey.

I am 25 years old and a total Virgo. I am earning my Master’s degree in Art History and Visual Culture from Richmond University in hopes of being a collections curator for a museum some day. I work full-time for a bookstore and spend time volunteering for a children’s cheer camp in the summers. I love swimming, horseback riding, long walks in the park [cliche but true!] and collaging.

I have the most loving boyfriend a girl could ever ask for, and I can’t tell you how absolutely lucky I am to have him in my life. We’ve been together for two years already, and he makes me ridiculously happy. Sometimes it is challenging to find time to hang out together around his work as an actor, but when we do have time we focus solely on each other. I adore everything about him.

I also have cancer.

Specifically, I have T-cell lymphoblastic lymphoma. And it’s trying to kill me.

I felt the need to tell you all of these things because I want you to know that I am more than my diagnosis. I am more than the treatments I will be going through. I am more than the bad days that will threaten to overwhelm me and make me want to give up. I am determined to defeat the statistics.

It has been one week since the doctor came back with the news. And I am still trying to come to grips with this new reality. Of course you hear all of the stories of the horrible side effects of chemotherapy; the exhaustion and nausea and losing your hair. The amount of information you suddenly have to deal with is overwhelming. I now have an entire “care team” meant to keep me alive. It makes me feel like a diva sometimes, but I also know there might be a time I’m too sick to wipe my own ass and I’ll need those people around me. And that reality is sobering.

I’m questioning basically everything at the moment; there are so many unknowns. So many more tests to figure out how far the cancer has invaded my body before we can even figure out a treatment plan. I know a part of that, of course, will be the multiple rounds of chemo to burn the cancer away, enough to make my head spin. I know it will make me sick, and I don’t want to be sick, but my only other choice is death, and I’m too damn young and I have too damn much to look forward to to choose that as an option.

So here I am, trying to write down the highs and the lows of this journey, to keep a record so to speak. My cancer therapist (there’s such a thing) said it would be a good idea, to keep me from feeling hopeless, so I’ll do anything they tell me to do if it means making me healthy again. If it means winning this battle. Even keeping this diary.

Because I’m determined to have a future with Taron, to give him babies and to make him ridiculously happy for the rest of our days. I can’t do that if I’m no longer a part of this earth. So I’ll survive the sick days, fight through the hopeless days, wear my bald head with pride if it means I get that future with him. Cancer can’t and won’t defeat me, not this time, not ever.

How will Kinsey’s journey unfold? Keep reading in Chapter 2 - Coming soon.

#taron imagine #taron egerton #taron x reader #taron fanfiction

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thewrongjackpot · 4 years

Text

I hit the wrong jackpot. *Spoiler alert, it’s cancer.*

[Originally written 1/3/20]

Warning: There may be a fair amount of sarcasm throughout this post coupled with some dark humor. Also, if you’re new to this channel, please disregard a lot of the other ramblings here, unless one dares to be bored.

“What jackpot did you hit?” you may ask. I hit the cancer jackpot. You read that right. C-A-N-C-E-R. This fun-loving 26-year-old has been diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma and of a newer subtype called Sclerosing. Take those words in. I had to have Google repeatedly tell me how to say it before I got the hang of it. It’s a jackpot because to say it is uncommon in adults is an understatement. A friend told me I need to get my butt to Vegas with all this rare luck.

“Wait, what? How did this all happen?” asked no one. Here’s a fun “little” deep-dive into everything that’s been going on the past few months, and how I’ve been dealing with it. Remember, you chose to continue reading this long post from here on out.

Well, let’s take it back to early-mid August. It started with what I thought was just TMJ issues because I was stressing some and clenching my teeth, so my jaw and temple started off sore. It then progressed to limited range of motion with my jaw (opening/closing), a small protrusion along my temple, and some numbness on my face. The urgent care doc essentially told me it’s TMD, the muscle is swollen, to chill, and it’ll go away. Well, that was extremely off. I saw my primary doctor, who then referred me to an ear, nose, and throat (ENT) doctor. Now, we’re at the end of November, and I had to take some MRIs and then was referred to another ENT doctor. I had a biopsy, and the doctor said it looks more mild-moderate than severe like he was initially thinking, but he was pretty sure it was malignant with how quickly it has been growing. Christmas Eve morning, I get a phone call. The final pathology came about, and it’s an intermediate grade Rhabdomyosarcoma. I was referred to a hospital with a Sarcoma specialist and saw her just after the new year began. She doesn’t know staging yet because she doesn’t know if it has spread anywhere else yet. I only had MRIs done and that was over a month ago now. So next week I get the joyous pleasure of more MRIs, a bone scan, a lumbar puncture, and a bone marrow biopsy. EXCITING. They’re also going to need to start chemo soon, so they’re working on getting that set up in the background. As of right now, the oncologist was saying it’ll be about 5 months of chemo, radiation and/or surgery, and then more chemo. More will be known in the coming weeks, but at least there’s finally a real start and direction to this all.

Needless to say, it’s been a crappy holiday season and last several months. Here’s a list of what this jolly (not green) giant growth in my head/neck has caused:

Swollen temple/face

Limited ability to open my mouth (~1.5cm)

Misaligned jaw

Numbness along half my face

Sharp shooting pains throughout my head/neck

Impacted breathing out of my left nostril

Fluid in my left ear (impacted hearing)

Trouble swallowing

Fatigue

Body aches

Pressure throughout the entire left side of my head

Large growth(s) inside my mouth encompassing cheek/mouth real estate

Accidentally chewing on said growths, which I think is the reason there’s blood in my mouth periodically

After my first meeting with the oncologist the other day, some topics hit home harder than others.

One of the points that almost made me cry on the spot was when I was asking about fertility. She was saying that she could recommend me to a fertility clinic to harvest my eggs. However, that could take 2-4 weeks, and we might not have that time to spare. I know that there’s so much more at stake, my health and well-being taking spot numero uno. I also know that there are other ways to still have kids, but it’s still such a depressing feeling and thought. Along with hearing that 2-4 weeks is not time that can be spared, it begs the question, “How bad/serious is this really?”. Having my own child is a choice that may never even be mine to begin with. I just always had this picture in mind about how life would be never thinking this is the luck I would be dealt. Then again, I don’t think anyone ever envisions something like this happening to them… Although, my vision of six dogs at any given time could become more of a reality. *shrug* (Honorable mention goes out to my brother who was cheering me up big time on this one.)

Next, the fear started to really set in when talking about all these tests that needed to be done. I’m absolutely terrified of pain, and the thought of all these huge needles makes me want to cry, throw up, and pass out. It’s not just the pain and needles I’m afraid of, it’s everything that comes along with the actualization of what this really is. Since we don’t know the full extent of this, my mind can’t help but think the prognosis is possibly more grim with all these tests needed and how quickly this tumor has dominated my face. I’m scared about having to go to treatments, having to feel sick, fatigue setting in, and withering away. I’m scared about losing my hair because, boy, let me tell you, I’ve always had long thick hair my whole life. There are only two occasions I can think of where my hair was shorter than mid-back. I’ve broken down crying several times in the shower while washing my hair; it was always a safety blanket for me. Although, I said I should jump the gun and get a bowl cut already haha. On a more serious note, I’m absolutely mortified that I’m not going to make it through this…but being a fighter and a survivor is in my blood, so I’m trying to not let that run my mind too much.

On a more physical and literal level, one of the most debilitating aspects of this is the limited range of motion with my mouth because I can barely eat. Eating has become almost a punishment because after a few bites of something, it hurts everywhere. It’s hard to swallow at times; it’s just all-around depressing. At this point, I’m closing in on having lost 30 pounds in about three months. I’m eating maybe 1000 calories a day. I try to force myself to eat, but it’s difficult. Some days everything makes me nauseous. I’ve mostly been drinking smoothies, eating soup, and other soft foods like mashed potatoes. Even when I am eating something, it’s extremely defeating when I wipe soup off my chin because the little piece of potato couldn’t fit in my dumb mouth and caused soup to drip down, and I couldn’t feel it because my face is too busy being numb. Moments like that are extremely disheartening. Stupid mouth.

Also, another difficult aspect of this is sleeping. I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in months. No matter which way I lie, there is either uncomfortable pressure or some sort of pain. I’ve literally woke up crying like a fussy baby because it hurts so much, and all I want to do is sleep.

DESPITE ALL OF THIS, I’m down, but I’m not out. I still have so many things to be grateful for. My husband continues to be amazingly strong, knows how to comfort me when I need it, and has been picking up my slack. Some of my family members have seriously stepped up in ways I could not have imagined that genuinely caught me by surprise. For those family members who have been with me on this so far, they have been so supportive and simply there for me when I need them. My parents are doing whatever they can from wherever they are to help me, e.g. my mom is flying up next week to be with me. I have some solid friends, and even my husband’s friends have been amazing. Work is working well with me through this, and even my old boss and coworkers have been checking up on me. Side note: I saw this lady at work today (whom I rarely interact with) only to find out her brother got treated where I am by the same set of doctors, and she said his experience was great as was the staff. That was an unexpected nugget of good vibes I did not expect today or ever.

One of the other biggest items I realized a few days ago that I am extremely grateful for is having moved away from Hawaii. Since moving, I go back and forth on whether leaving was the best decision, but now who knows what would be of me if I didn’t. If developing this cancer was an inevitable piece of my life story, being in Hawaii would have been one of the worst things for me. For one, there are doctor shortages, so being seen would have been dragged out so much longer than here. Secondly, Hawaii does not have the specialists to even treat me. I would have had to fly somewhere else anyway. As an aside to this, I’m even more grateful that we moved to the west coast because family is more accessible than in DC, and my husband and I have friends here as well.

Well, that’s about it for now. I like to talk/write, so I’m honestly going to post updates on here even if they fall on deaf ears. Just like this page says, I’m someone rambling lol.

If you’ve made it this far, I’ll give you a cake pop one day or something.

TL;DR

I have a rare form of cancer that’s been progressing pretty quickly. A lot of it really sucks right now, but there’s finally some real direction in getting me treated. Also, I am surrounded by a lot of love and dope people, and I still have so much to be grateful for.

#cancer #chemo #sarcoma #rhabdomyosarcoma #tumor #jackpot #rambling #long post #coping #cancer sucks #dying

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