#I'm not dead but dying

[woonietune]

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated, for I was only wiping countertops with my left hand and weeping into my collagen supplements, not being dissected by first-years at the medical school

Lots of catching up to do. I haven’t posted in a while. I got sick. I mean, I know I’m always getting sick, but this time I got so sick that I lost a lot of the use of my right hand. I couldn’t pick up one of my fluffy chickens without the owies--and I have a high pain threshold. I thought maybe I was having a stroke--or a bad case of hypochodria but once those things were ruled out, no one knew what it was. It wasn’t Covid. It wasn’t some weird autoimmune thingie (as of yet--I suspected that--but it wouldn’t be that). Maybe my allergies had evolved into some Godzilla version? I couldn’t sweep a broom across the porch. The inflammation was so bad I couldn’t wear my rings, and worst of all, I couldn’t type. 

I couldn’t get an appt with my PCP for three months (because this is the way things are in the USA in a state where Bobby Fuck U Jindal let five private insurers compete for Medicaid clients and basically set into motion the now standard Republican model of Let Disabled People Die Who Needs Them). Anyway, I did see a nurse practitioner who sent me to get x-rays in one hospital and to get bloodwork in another--and the results came back that there was nothing wrong with me. I was reporting pain 8/10 but was told to take Tylenol and that the doctor would see me in three months.

That was back in December? I don’t think I’ve gone ever without writing for 3 months. I paid out of pocket for some acupuncture (never had it before--it was cool beans) and got some relief; I adjusted my diet, already vegetarian to as sanctimonious a vegan, anti-inflammatory diet as I could manage, and I felt a little better. I used Google Voice to chat with fandom friends. Google Voice told of the adventures of Dog Food, the great warrior, and Wound, the former assassin of Cooks Up a Wrong, and I was miserable. I wanted to write. Writing was my only real down time. Without it, my brain was in the wilderness.

During my no-writing period, I had two ear infections, my therapist gave leave, the family got mild Covid infections (during which time my arm felt oddly better), and I knew instinctively I had to rest. I picked up a heavy detergent bottle and got the owies bad the next day, so I let the house go to hell. I spent a lot of time lying in a dusty room I couldn’t clean (this was before the maid from Hell--I’d never hired a maid before in my life, but when I did, whoever hexed me made it so I got one that made already made beds and put the flat sheets under the fitted sheets, didn’t wash the cleaning foam out of the bath-tub, left large swaths of rug unvacuumed, broke several little minatures--I superglued them back but STILL--and left the kitchen floors grimy and put an envelope marked IMPORTANT on the kitchen in a super secret place among a bunch of bookshelves), and I let my mind wander the way it had when I was twelve or so....

Why am I trapped in this consciousness? Why can’t I be in the mind of that person or that other person? Or why can’t assume the presence of a tree or a cloud? Why am I me? And did I choose to be me? And where am I going? 

Agnosticism on any issue was the default, and if I wasn’t writing, it wasn’t only my right hand that was hurting, it was my brain. It hurt from awareness.

The maid from Hell cleared away some of the dust in the house (not much), but mostly she kicked my head out of its dusty sophomoric philosophizing. I was so mad over her bad house-keeping that I got up and started to clean my own house with one hand. I didn’t do a bad job, and my disabled family helped, even if they did turn some white clothes pink in the wash. Nobody died. The house never had a chance to grow black mold. 

When the PCP appt finally rolled around, the doctor examined my arm this way and that and guess what? I had a torn bicep! She recommended physical therapy but there was a waiting list (of course). I went on YouTube to get some practice videos, and there were all these muscle guys who lifted weights there who’d torn their biceps. I don’t know how I’d injured myself, but I’m always doing things I’m not supposed to. I mean, besides picking up 40 lbs dogs. I overestimate my strength and think I’m stretchier and younger than I am. I haven’t done yoga since before the Pandemic, so I must’ve just thought my arm was a squeegee pole or something and strained to clean a cobweb in ceiling corner, who knows.

I was prescribed super antihistamines for my allergies, given meloxicam for pain (lol), and told to rest (lol lol lol). Eventually I could type a little; then I could type a little more; before I knew it I had written more than 100K words in less than a month in a little fandom mini-arc, and my fandom wife was busy whipping my crazy manuscripts into shape because my writing was as out of shape as I was. I’d lost 10 lbs when I’d caught that nasty stomach flu everyone was getting (and I mask and take hazmat-like protocols nearly everywhere because my greatest fear is infecting someone high risk--I’m only moderate-high--and killing that person--I know all kinds of very sick people). My wife was sick too, and I don’t know how she does it, but apparently she can find a backwards quotation mark with a fever 101 and point out a paragraph that needs “more” even if she’s been puking for days and can’t stand up in the shower.

Fandom people are crazy. But we love what we love.

And we love writing for our historically inaccurate historical dramas.

I’ve actually been typing too long already.

This was supposed to be a master post of fics I haven’t uploaded in the past few months.

I’m back in bed, not sick so much this time as overwhelmed by all things overwhelming, and I want to write, but at the same time I want to just lie here and cry.

This world is a terrible place. It’s been blasted with meteors and nuked several times over, and the blood of a million wars have seeped into it, and the Ice Age has come and gone, and here I am, wondering if I’ll get a chance to swim in the ocean again before I die or maybe catch a coffee with a friend or see my dad who can’t fly here because of his bad lungs. Does it matter if I have words? Or are words the greatest illusion of meaningfulness--they’re just blabbity, and they disintegrate into cyberspace just like that stuff--remember paper?--paper used to fall apart when we picked up hundred-year-old books that had gone untouched. 

Actions matter. What we model for our children matters. Decency and kindness, compassion and persistence. Charity and hope, all those things that sound like dull bells until they are live faces with stories in front on your own.

But I don’t get out much anymore. I’m scared of the outside. I don’t march anymore, and my family needs me at home. The animals need me to refresh their water, and the old cat needs me to cut his pills twice a day, and oh, some people need to get over this “don’t enable disabled people.” It’s not enabling a disabled person who has broken legs if you hold his crutches while he sits in a car to go to a doctor’s appointment. You don’t know all the circumstances. Parents of disabled children--well, many of them, research hard and try many things, advocate hard, make phonecalls every day and we thank you for your judgement very much. We live in fear every day that our children will die in the system when we’re gone. 

Some days I feel all I have are my words. These words that are nothing. These words that are my playing around. I was diagnosed with cataracts not long ago. I am afraid of going blind now. But some surgery in a few years, they say--I’ll be fine. I hope so. I may not be fine in other ways. I knew there was something wrong with my eyes. I have optical migraines. My fingers don’t move they way they used to. My brain feels young--younger than ever, maybe twelve, the age I was wondering why I couldn’t share consciousness with a fish in a pond. Later, maybe when the bipolar was kicking in, I felt that I did share consciousness with it. And who will tell me I am wrong? The world’s great religions--not just my own with it’s Sh’ma Yisrael, the World is One, but so many others, speak of the great inter-connectedness of things.

Are the words in the way, or are they little stepping stones? Or are they both?

I don’t like to touch or hug people very much because of childhood traumas. I save my hugs for my dearest ones and my animal companions, but I throw words around freely, like chicken feed. C’mon and get it... or let it settle and rot in the earth, along with the blood and paper and other forgotten things.

My time isn’t over. This blog will last until... there are new technologies. I thought Tik Tokers would be the new talkers, but it doesn’t seem to be the place. Novelists haven’t disappeared; neither have poets. And despite Elon, Disabled Twitter is still going strong. There’s no telling.

So I’ll keep telling. I still have secrets and untold things. And many pockets full of untold stories. More later. The little fictions (oh this last one is 12k... sorry. Whoever reads it gets a cookie. A pretty Korean one from the palace).

#I was sick #what do words matter #maid from hell #sophomoric philosophy #at the current time I have no therapist uh oh #that's fine I have a support system and a medicating dr #master post of stories coming soon #Cooks Up a Wrong is Heuksa Chorong thank you Google Voice #My fandom wife is really wonderful #I'm not dead but dying #we all are ok? #I have hypergraphia look at my puffy fingers go

[arthursfuckinghat]

Accidentally fell down a cliff and made him cry :(

#I'm sorry arthur :( #I saw a rock carving and wanted to investigate :( #the fact that you survived falling down the cliff is probably worse than just dying and respawning :( #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #mick squeaks #arthur morgan #liveblogging

[xjustakay]

“Well, maybe now I’m sulking because I’ve been with you all day and haven’t been able to kiss you once.” “Oh, is that it?” Regulus hums as he’s pulled closer. “You poor thing.” “You’re mocking me, but I’m actually devastated.”

I was fortunate enough to be able to commission this incredible artwork by @jaioes for chapter 5 of baby, all i wanna do is coast (with you). and I will never be normal again, actually!! All the love in the world to Zar for being so fantastic with this, truly<33

#jegulus #jegulus fanart #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus fanfic #fanart #I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND #HOW MUCH I'M SCREAMING #bouncing off the walls like a rubber ball #the size difference and the hand placements and the LOOKS #the outfit details and the lighting and EVERYTHING #it's PERFECT in every way adjfkljsdflk #zar truly knocked it out of the park #dying dead about it #never gonna be normal again!!! #fic: baby all i wanna do is coast (with you).

[bowieified]

Important takeaways from the OFMD teaser:

Wee John seems to be the one dressed as a mermaid!

Ed appears to have decorated a female wedding figurine to look like himself to match the one that looks like Stede I'M DYING

Ed has outfitted himself with one two, three four - NINE guns

Frenchie is getting into the spirit of things

Stede did a punch!

Ed and Stede are fighting soldiers and running towards each other across the beach????!!!

EDIT - further discoveries:

Anne Bonny kissed Stede??

Ed has been counting the days (tally marks on the wall) since he and Stede separated :(

Fancy red jacket

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd teaser #ofmd s2 #dying i'm dead

[quillium]

Two kinds of comments and replies on ao3:

1.

commentor: nice fic

author replying: Hello you have done me the greatest of services. The kindest of compassions hast been received from thine good hand. May you be blessed into the coming days, for you have blessed me and mine.

2.

commentor: This tore into my ribcage and you hold my still-beating heart in your hands. I loved the thematic strength of this story--the persistent symbolism within is everything, actually. Your characterization was so on point, I adored the specific choices you made to cement not only the dynamics and show the effect on others but also the further the plot in a logical manner--

author replying: lol thx <3

#JUST ME??? JUST ME??? #ao3 #fanfic comments #I'M SO SORRY ACTUALLY. REPLYING TO COMMENTS AND TRYING TO EXPRESS HOW GRATEFUL I AM FOR THE LOVE #like there is no way to properly express it actually because the love given to us will always feel greater than that received sometimes #i'm dead and dying sorry #trying my utmost to express that i know i've been given a lot and wish to give at least a little love or thanks back but it's. not happening #esp bc school is kicking my butt and i cannot reply to all these comments fr hbfjwiogsdjlk

[repmet]

Some favourite tags on my Merlin gifsets part 12 (x)

(prev)

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlintags #i'm not dead #i know it seemed like it #did get that adhd diagnosis though so #that's cool #i'm also dying from some unspecified virus #fuck winter

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Ascent Astarion referring to female Tav/Reader as „Lady Ancunín“ and insists that everyone else (staff, visitors etc) does so as well, even though they‘re not married (yet 😏) but she‘s his.

I'm back baby~

Yas let's romanticize this evil man I'm ready. But don't worry, he's still a terrible person <3 And so are you in this <3

TW: I'm so sorry I don't know how I got here. Murder, violence, a tiny bit of torture. And wtf tav has no last name? Uh, it starts with a c now I guess. Sex is alluded to but it isn't graphic.

~

"I just don't know why I have to be there," You sighed as the servants opened the doors for the both of you, your arm hooked with Astarion's while you complained, "You know you'll work better if you're not worrying about me all night."

"And how would letting you out of my sight help with my concentration?" Astarion shot back, a frown curling on his lips, "With strangers in our home? Absolutely not."

You barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. Gods, he could be so dramatic. Did he forget who you were?

"Don't you trust me to handle myself?" You asked with a pout, "I didn't always need your protecting, you know."

"Of course I trust you," Astarion sighed as he gave your hand a tight squeeze, "It's the rest of the world I have no faith in."

How on earth were you supposed to argue against that? You weren't quite sure, but you were going to try, "But-"

"No buts," Astarion interrupted curtly, "You're going and that's final. Besides, it's just one night. And we can have as many quiet evenings as you'd like for the rest of the week."

You sighed as you nodded your head, accepting the compromise, "Whatever you say my love."

Astarion smirked down at you, "That's my good girl."

Oh gods, why did he have to go and say that? He was well aware of what that did to you. And now was not the time to have to squeeze your thighs together. You could feel a flush crawl up your neck as you hissed, "I told you not to call me that in public!"

"Did you?" Astarion smirked as he came to a stop in front of a speaking squire, "I don't recall."

He turned his attention to the young man in front of you before you had a chance to respond, "Speak. Did anything happen while we were gone?"

The man shook his head, "No, Master Ancunin."

"Good," Astarion said curtly with a wave of the hand, "You're dismissed."

He nodded, "Thank you Master Ancunin, Misstress C-"

The consonant was barely out of the boy's mouth before Astarion was on him, moving so quickly that it was enough to startle even you. Before you blinked he had him pinned against the wall, a strong arm to his throat as he hissed, "I'm sorry, what did you just call her?"

The servant looked panicked, but at least he had the brains to catch on to his own mistake, "I-Apologies my lord. But since you are not wed I-"

"What we have is higher than the mundanities of marriage," Astarion growled, "You'll address her as Lady Ancunin from now on, if you wish to keep your tongue.

You couldn't help but laugh a bit behind him, more than a bit endeared at the display, "I thought you were saving the dramatics for this evening?"

Astarion ignored you briefly, opting to drop him back to the ground with a cold order, "Get out of my sight."

"Aw poor thing," You cooed as you watched him scramble away. You saddled back up to Astarion's side, linking your arms together with a smile, "Darling you didn't have to terrify him. It was a reasonable mistake."

"I beg to differ," Astarion said lowly, still glaring in the young man's direction, "I should have killed him for that. You're making me too soft."

"Or maybe we should just consider having a wedding?" You said as you leaned your head against his shoulder, "It would save a lot of confusion."

Astarion rolled his eyes, "Obviously we'll be having a wedding darling. But that's not the point. You are mine. With or without a ring. It's best that others learn to respect that now."

"No arguments here," You happily sighed as he led you to your chambers, "Just don't stain anything if you slit someone's throat, okay my love? Blood isn't easy to clean."

Astarion grinned as he pushed you through the door, a familiar glint in his eye as he shut it behind him, "No promises. Though I suppose there are other things we can do to keep my bloodthirst in check. Any ideas?"

You really were such a good girl, especially when the question was more than enough to have you untying the corset back of your dress. A shy smile was already on your lips as you laid back on the bed, your thighs spilling open enticingly, "I think I may have a few."

Astarion grinned as he crawled over you, his fangs already extending in anticipation. This was exactly what he needed. To drink from his precious future bride and have his merry way with her before entertaining a bunch of dullards for the evening.

But he needed to secure these alliances. There weren't many open-and-out vampires operating within the city walls. And the few that remained were valuable enough for him to take interest in, either to work with or to get rid of. Tonight would help him fully realize the distinctions.

And with you by his side, it would be tolerable. Though Astarion had quickly realized after his own turn that vampires had a bad habit of thinking that they were much, much, more interesting than they were.

A fact that he was quickly being reminded of as the night went on. Everything was going according to plan, the guests had arrived, you looked gorgeous and perfect on his arm, and he had a meticulous mask on to seem interested in all the inane conversations he needed to have.

Though this one was especially tedious. A newly risen vampire lord, weeks fresh off of killing his own master. Despite the achievement, he was as dry as a brick wall. But she was interesting. Well... perhaps not him, but certainly the master he had killed was of interest. And he was the only one left living who could possibly know of the woman's secrets.

"It's been an interesting few weeks, to say the least," The man said again, still lost in reliving the death of his own slave master, "I never thought it was possible, but here I am."

You were nodding along, taking the time to do the conversational work Astarion was growing tired of, "It is quite thrilling isn't it? To be free. I'm sure she had many perks of immortality that were lost to you. Hopefully, you're adjusting well."

"I am, and she did. In fact, I found these books, can't read a lick of them but-"

"Perhaps a translator could be of use?" You casually interrupted, "I can always take a look for you."

"That would be lovely-"

"Master Ancunin!" A feminine voice interrupted from behind, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

He turned, his annoyance shifting to interest when he realized who was speaking. Lady Imelel, a high-ranking spawn turned master after the murder of her sister, nearly three-hundred years ago. Done by Cazador's own hand. She had been a consistent thorn in his side since that day, only relenting to meet when she was certain of his murder.

She was beautiful, as expected. With an air of confidence that nearly made Astarion bristle. She was a bit... too comfortable in his presence. Especially when she decided that linking her arm to his was appropriate.

He could feel you stiffen at his side at the display, a fact she remained oblivious to as she spoke, "Gods, there is so much I'd like to discuss with you. Privately if you wouldn't mind."

For anyone else, the obvious display of disrespect towards you would have been an automatic death sentence. But Astarion was conflicted. If anyone was going to be aware of the identities of other unknown vampires in the realm, it would be her. He'd be forced to let it slide for the moment.

Though just because he was agreeing, didn't mean he couldn't make things more clear.

He plastered a tight smile on his face before nodding, "Certainly, just one moment."

He turned to you, his voice dropping a few octaves, "Will you be okay alone for a moment darling? I won't be long."

You nodded, always so, so good at picking up on what he needed, "I'll be fine my love. I'm sure Erwen will keep me plenty entertained."

"Good," He murmured before pressing a deep kiss to your mouth, taking the time to lick inside, just to feel you shudder. Perhaps it was a bit much. It certainly was if the flush to Erwen's face was anything to go by when he pulled away. But Astarion was trying to be fair here. And if Imelel didn't understand the picture after that, he couldn't be held responsible for what could happen to her.

He grinned down at you before pressing one last lingering kiss to your mouth, "I'll be right back."

And then he was off, reluctantly being dragged away by Imelel; who looked particularly offended at the display of affection. It didn't take long for her to make her offense known either.

She took him to the first quiet corner she could find, a frown on her lips as she leaned in, "My dear, I know you're quite new to this but... I would refrain from chaining yourself to one soul so quickly. It truly is a waste.

Ah. It was unfortunate that she was continuing that line of thought. Astarion only had so much patience.

He cocked his head at her, thoroughly amused at the audacity, "Oh? Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean that plaything that you take everywhere with you," She said easily, blissfully unaware of how close he was to ripping out her tongue. She was running a delicate hand down his chest, "You're limiting yourself for no reason. She's a mortal who was lucky enough to catch your eye. And she knows it. She won't be going anywhere if you explore your other options. And even if she did... who cares?"

That sealed it. She would be dying tonight. And if Astarion had any less patience she would have been slain the second she forgot your title. But he had more decorum than that. Or maybe he just wanted to make things personally horrifying, just for her.

He grinned back at her, leaning into her touch despite the way it made his skin crawl, "It sounds like there is an offer buried in your words. Am I right?"

"It could be," She purred, "If you'd be willing to sneak away."

Well wasn't that nice? For her to do the hard work for him. He took her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze before saying, "Go out and mingle my dear, then meet me upstairs in an hour. The second room to the left. And then you can show me exactly what I've been missing."

She smiled, one with too much teeth before sauntering away.

It was almost disgusting, how foolish she was. Astarion could scarcely believe she had survived this long. Though in her meager defense, this was probably going to be the first time that she was rebuffed for her advances. But otherworldly beauty could only take you so far, a harsh lesson that she was about to learn.

Astarion wasted no time in finding you again, politely dragging you away from the conversation. You didn't miss a beat, immediately updating him on everything that was said, "He'll bring the books by for translation. If there's any magic to them I'll be able to extract it and he'll get a.... redacted version. The poor thing really doesn't know what he's doing. But he's far from a threat-"

"That's wonderful my sweet, thank you," Astarion interrupted, his voice lowered, "But I need you to do something else for me. Do you remember those fun little ropes we found a few months back?"

You nodded, "The Cord of Constriction? Or the Lariat of Lethargy?"

"Let's say both. Now go and put them in the guest room for me will you? And then wait in the closet. And don't move a muscle until I say, no matter what you see or hear. Understood?"

"Why on Earth-"

"Darling," Astarion interrupted, an edge coloring his voice, "Don't question me. Just be a good girl and listen. Can you do that?"

Those were the magic words. He licked his lip as he watched a flush crawl up your neck, an adorable pout on your lips, "I-Gods. Fine! Just don't keep me waiting long."

"I won't," Astarion promised with a smile, "I'll see you soon."

He watched you go, excitement brewing in the back of his mind. And he thought tonight was going to be boring. He waited until he saw Imelel start her way up the stairs before following, a slight pep in his step. It was all so easy to manipulate her onto the bed, easier still to convince her of a "fun" little game to tie her to the bed posts.

He leaned back when he was done, a smirk forming as he watched her test her bindings, "I should have known that this would be your type of fun Astarion."

"Yes," Astarion laughed, low and mean, "You should have. Darling, you can come out now. I have a surprise for you."

Right on cue you were popping out of the closet, your eyes widening when you saw the woman tied to the bed. The woman who was slowly panicking as she realized just how strong the ropes she was tied with were.

"This is my surprise?" You asked as you saddled up to him, easily stepping into his open arms, "I assume this is the part where you explain why?"

"Astarion? What on earth are you doing?" Imelel asked quietly, her voice slightly shaking, "I am not someone to be trifled with-"

"I'll be the judge of that," Astarion said quickly before turning his attention back to you, "Darling, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but this creature spoke of you in one of the most disrespectful manners you can imagine. And for that a punishment is due, don't you think?"

"Are you insane?" Imelel screeched, "You won't get away with this!"

But Astarion wasn't listening. He was too busy watching the ways your eyes softened at him. You smiled, "So a powerful vampire mildly insults me, and your solution is murder?"

Astarion grinned, "Naturally."

"Gods, I love you," You sighed before leaning in to peck his lips, "But you'll help me, won't you?"

"Of course darling," Astarion cooed, his hand already reaching for the dagger in his belt, "I'm here to help."

Imelel was still struggling, hard enough to make the Cord of Constriction bite against her skin. Her hand was slowly turning purple from the loss of circulation. She was still screeching too, bellowing about her own importance. Right up until Astarion had the knife to her throat.

"Oh, not so brave now are you?" Astarion chuckled as she finally shut up, "To be clear, you will be dying tonight. For every offense that came out of your mouth in regards to my love. Your body will be used for a display to warn the next audacious shrew. Sound good?"

She was crying now. Good. It was her own fault that she was there to begin with, all because she couldn't keep her big mouth shut.

He turned back to you, "What do you say, darling? Do you want me to do the honors?"

You shook your head before gently taking the knife, taking the time to kiss him on the cheek, "No, I'll do the first cut, and the rest can be yours."

"Whatever you say darling," Astarion sighed, happy to step back and watch you get to work. You really were good with daggers, a skill he admired as he watched you slit her throat. There you were, the light of his life, the master of his heart, the one and only Lady Ancunin. And it was long time the world started to see you as such.

The two of you enjoyed yourselves for as long as you could before there was nothing left of the woman who once was. And Astarion kept to his word.

As a nice end to the evening he dropped her body down the stairs, chuckling at all of the shocked gasps it tore from his audience before he gave his speech, "This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you disrespect myself or Lady Ancunin in any shape or form. Do with the information as you will. Now please, enjoy your evening."

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #ascended astarion #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #people be dying #astarion ancunin #i'm back~ #three more to go #i be trying #murder is involved here #writing exercies #not quite sure how I feel about this one

[lord-squiggletits]

I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.

I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.

The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...

Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.

I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.

And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?

It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.

To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.

In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.

Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.

So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.

What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.

Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?

#squiggposting #pharma apologism #i'm sure the doylist reason for the writing is just that pharma was a designated villain #so since he's a villain and 'crazy' it's fine for everyone even the good guys to treat him like complete trash #i just think from a watsonian perspective taking a sympathetic approach is way more interesting and logically consistent #what i mean is like. from a meta perspective one of the best ways to show that a character is super evil and not worth saving #is when even the good guy heroes. the ones who are supposed to be kind and compassionate and wise. see him as dirt #and this is also kind of a necessity in most plots bc TF is the kind of series that just needs action villains and long-term antagonists #so not every villain is written or has a plot to be made redeemable. and pharma is one of these bc he's not important or a legacy character #so from a doylist (meta) perspective you could read the autobots' disregard of pharma as a sign of #'this guy is not meant to have your sympathy as a reader. pay no attention to him' #but from a watsonian (in universe) perspective it paints a miserable picture of pharma being utterly forsaken by the ppl he served alongsid #and like yeah i'm super autistic about pharma so of course i view him with sympathy but like #the idea of being a loyal and good person for years only to be subjected to a Torment Nexus of #being blackmailed into breaking all of the oaths you held sacred. under threat of you and all your comrades dying horrible torturous deaths #then when your comrades find out about it they focus solely on the 'harvesting organs' and not on the 'blackmail' part #and then you get literally left for dead by your comrades and best friend hating your guts #and then you get rescued by a guy who uses you as a test subject for his evil machine #this is a fucking nightmare scenario like pharma could hardly be suffering more if the author TRIED to make him suffer #and for me it's like. the evil pharma did can't be decontextualized to what drove him to that. as well as the question of like #how easily ppl can write someone off as evil and turn a blind eye to (or even find satisfaction in) their suffering bc theyre evil #and either brought it on themselves or it's just karma paying a visit #like. i feel like if pharma WERE a shitty doctor and a terrible person his whole life then the delphi situation would feel like karma #but the way it's written and the lore retroactively put in makes it feel more pharma getting thrown in a torture carousel #and THEN becoming evil. but then being treated as if he was always evil or was some sort of bad apple #bc like i'm not opposed to LOLing when a villain gets a karmic torture/death related to the wrongs they committed #but in pharma's case it feels less like karma and more like endless torture + being abandoned by ppl who should have been more loyal

[emblazons]

"We can plant the seeds for a new world. One where we can all be free."

Joshua Rosfield & Jill Warrick in Final Fantasy XVI ⤷The Rising Tide DLC

#FINALLY PLAYING FOR MYSELF!!! and...remaking gifs that weren't HD with my own Joshua and Jill costume choices...and spoilers haha #also? this is so fucking pertinent to the end of a fic i'm writing + the lore about the gregorian church i'm dead i'm dying THANK YOU devs #joshua rosfield #jill warrick #ff16 #ffxvi #ffxvi gifs #my gifs #final fantasy XVI #the rising tide #userlockescoles #tuserashes #ffgraphics #final fantasy xvi #ffxvi spoilers #gamingedit #videogameedit #dailygaming #final fantasy #ffxviedit

[bradshawsbitch]

"i'm done!"

bonus;

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster #miles teller #miles teller gifs #mt* #my gifs #if you steal you owe me 12 dollars #he's so cute I'm dying dead gone #bb*

[eerna]

pls recommend me some fantasy romance!

#all rec lists lead me to a dead end pls help me out i am CRAVING so BADLY #and you know my taste so you won't recommend me whatever is recommended online when i try to find books similar to an enchantment of ravens #recs #i'm dying over a school project and still have 2 whole pages of comicing to do i NEED something romantic to get me through it #should have waited a bit longer to read emily wilde huh

[arthursfuckinghat]

#the way arthur doesn't resist the hug #he just lets himself fall into it #and holds charles too for a moment #and they both cried #dont mind me sobbing screaming like a dying animal #I'm going to throw up #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #mick squeaks #arthur morgan #charles smith #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption 2 spoilers #oh arthur

[fadedrainbowbookshelves]

Summer's ending...

#welcome home #welcome home fanart #frank frankly #eddie dear #eddie x frank #frank x eddie #And yet I'm still dying of heat exhaustion come on September come through for me #Hey y'all I'm not dead just clocking 44ish hours at work and back in school #Hope everyone is well!

[marcskywalker]

Okay I just rewatched this episode and remembered that s5 Arthur was so so soft????? He was finally letting himself love people???? And learning to communicate his love?????? 🥹🥹 Also his "After all these years I should've learned to expect it (someone trying to kill him)" 🥹😭

#Merthur #Arwen #mergwenthur #bbc merlin #Arthur Pendragon #Merlin #He was so soft with Gwen as well 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 #My whole heart goes out for him #MY KING 🫡 #And him apologizing to merlin at the end even tho it clearly wasn't his fault? 😭😭😭😭 #His unrestrained faith in merlin's innocence and loyalty 😭 #I'm dying #Dead

[natelia-aldelliz]

Guys imagine, Roach died, before the creation of 141, but Soap is able to see his ghost. He was originally following Ghost around, really annoyed that he was using his death as an excuse to not get close to anyone, but when he found out Soap could see him and talk to him he started following him around instead.

And they get really close, like two peas in a pod, except they have to be discreet about it because no one else can see or hear Roach, and they'd think Soap was crazy if they saw him talking to no one.

They use that for shenanigans too: Roach will go follow someone else and report back to Soap, Gaz is genuinely starting to believe Soap has superpowers or something. It's really useful on missions as well, and Soap managed to successfully rescue team members thanks to Roach being able to move through walls and everything.

(Roach is not the only ghost Soap is able to see btw, just the only one he's talking to.)

And then Roach is witnessing his past lover trying really hard to not fall in love with Soap, and Soap trying really hard to not do anything about the love he already feels, and he has to try and convince Soap that he is dead. During that conversation he finds out that something else that keeps Soap from doing something is that he feels very confused about everything because he also has feeling for Roach.

So now Roach has to try and convince him that even if he was still alive he wouldn't have a problem with that. He's known for a while that he was polyamorous, but he hadn't really dared talking to Ghost about that because he thinks he's jealous and possessive.

And Soap is like "oh yeah, you want me to go say to Ghost 'don't worry about your dead lover that I'm not supposed to know, he's actually polyamorous and also in love with me, I know because his ghost told me!' ??? I'm sure he's gonna take that well!"

But Roach is nothing if not resourceful and he manages to put Soap in situations where he's forced to interact with Ghost, and eventually they kiss and their relationship is beginning to be something. They're not really sure what.

And Roach is sad, because he has to watch the two men he loves being in love without him, yes, but at least they're both happy, and it makes him feel a bit better. And then during a mission Ghost almost dies.

Because he was alone and Soap and Gaz were together, Roach was following Ghost this time, ready to fly to Soap in an instant if there was any problems. But there was and he didn't have time, so he instinctively grabbed the gun being pointed towards Ghost's head and moved it as the person was shooting, saving Ghost's life, giving him enough time to shoot the enemy himself.

But even as the threat is eliminated, Ghost is still looking up from where he's on the ground, staring right through him, looking shocked. No, not right through him, he realises when he moves to the side and Ghost's eyes follow him. He also realises that he grabbed the gun. He's never grabbed anything before, in all his years of being a ghost.

Then suddenly Ghost's eyes move wildly around, and he figures he disappeared from his view. He can still go through the walls, but he's kept the ability to grab stuff when he wants. It gives him a ton of new possibilities, to fuck with people and, of course, to touch Soap.

"I wish you were actually alive," Soap whispers to him, holding his hands against his face as he's falling asleep.

"What the fuck," comes Ghost's voice the next morning, waking both of them up - wait, since when could Roach sleep?

Soap doesn't understand immediately, because he's always been able to see Roach. But Ghost is standing in the door, looking straight at dead past lover.

Turns out Soap is a necromancer and he had no idea, though the whole 'I can see dead people' should probably have told him sooner that he wasn't normal... The more he wishes Roach is alive, the more he actually is. And they all end up happy and together. And Gaz is very happy to have won the bet that Soap indeed has superpowers.

The day Roach says, in a wondering voice, "I... I think I'm hungry" is the day they understand that something is really happening and he's actually coming back to life.

(Also, Soap has no control at all on his abilities, he has no idea what does what and why, he knows nothing. No one knows.)

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #gary roach sanderson #soapghost #ghostsoap #roachsoap #ghostroach #ghostsoaproach #accidental necromancer soap and ghost roach au #this is not organised at all bc my head has been hurting for days and i feel like i'm dying (i'm being overly dramatic don't worry) #this came to me when i was watching megamind don't ask me why #anyway i can't even read that again bc the words make no sense to me when my head hurts so sorry if it actually makes no sense for real lol #omg imagine ghost being interrogated bc someone reported him for sleeping with soap and he goes 'do i sleep with my sergeant? #yes i do but i don't only sleep with one of my sergeants i actually sleep with two of them; one having been dead for 4 years' #and they go 'dead as in... pronounced dead but actually alive?' 'no no dead as in actually dead as in buried; dead dead' #'so you *were* sleeping with him in the past?' 'no i am currently sleeping with him. with both of them.' #and then price has to gaslight sooo hard to make it all right they're literally taking years off his lifespan #and when he complains they giggle at him saying that it's alright bc soap will bring him back anyway if he dies for their sins

[akuma-tenshi]

frederick kreiburg i love you

#rambling #idv #identity v #frederick kreiburg #idv composer #i'm SO normal about him (lying) #really fucking glad he got to be part of aom even though he's Goin Through It the whole time he deserves the attention #also i am aware that shot in his trailer isn't technically him dying #but he's dead in aom he's so fucking dead like he's incredibly dead #so i'm using that as kinda a representation of that