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pen-observing · 4 years

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My Only One iv - final

Diavolo and you have been together for a century. While time flies, the last decade has not been kind to either of you. He is about to become the King and while you have subjected yourself to transformations, just to live with your beloved, the pressure is unending. You live your life publicly. It is no luxury. Not having an heir when 100 years have passed tears you apart- just as much as it divides those that you inevitably rule. A solution comes like the last ray of hope. Go to an enchanted fortress used for fixes of the worst kind. Subject yourself to even more hexes to have the possibility of producing an heir. It’s just for a year. A short time for those immortal. A long time for those in a complex relationship, especially when for the sake of efficiency, letters are the only means of communication you are allowed to have with outsiders.

Warnings: none

i / ii / iii / _

To say that your feet felt lighter and the frozen ground finally melted after the letter from the brothers would be an understatement.

Hope. Hope in its trues form finally existed for you again. Too many years did hope have the same colour as Diavolo’s eyes. You almost forgot other potent sources of such a feeling. My dear, you forgot that hope was held within.

As your sanity finally made peace with your inner being; everything else started to fall into place. Diavolo’s paragraphs upon paragraphs; drawing a lie within a dream still stung; but, you did not go crazy. Power was flowing back to you.

The letters from the brothers varied on topics decided by the hand that wrote them. Admittedly, based on the handwriting, some were easier to read than others. But their meaning; their essence; their love was never to be questioned.

Karasu was proud with the step-by-step recovery you were making. Those watchful eyes were full of kindness and wonder while you grew into a cheerful state. Well, as cheerful as the circumstances would allow.

The room wasn’t messy anymore. Your treatment was moving along smoothly. The interest about people in charge of you grew. They respected, while still being able to doubt, the genuine curiosity held from a future Ruler. They did not tell you everything but a difference between privacy and secrecy was established. Based on such occasions you managed to find out that one of the witches dedicated her whole life to this. She could never, ever, have kids because of a pact. However, seeing others live out that oh so feeble dream of hers; would mean happiness.

It was astounding that a pure motive existed within these walls. You marvelled at it. And life began to marvel at you.

Month nine marked the witch leaping at you with such joy in the privacy of one of the examination rooms. She held your arms tightly. She delivered the news with a strong voice. “You, you! Your treatment exceeded every expectation they set! You can have children now! You can bear a child. You can give birth to Devildom’s future!”

The news shocked you. Now? Right now? This was as sudden as time itself. What does this mean when you are unsure about the man who swore to be the best father? He also swore to be a true lover; look how that turned out.

But there was no way you could allow yourself to break in front of this person. There was no way your humanity would disrespect the witch’s joy for you; the life long dedication.

You gently held her hands with a genuine smile prompted by her honest hope. You thanked her from the bottom of your heart; even if it was still broken.

That interaction meant that the time of your solitude in this fortress was at its end. It meant you had to return to the frightening outside world. But how?

The end that once was sure to spark joy was no more. Confusion was torturing you now; unrelenting.

What now?

A long conversation with Karasu followed where you weighted every option of return. Should you notify Diavolo? What will you do once you see him again? Could you ever find a small corner of your heart that would ensure forgiveness upon the man you loved more than any other?

Karasu knew you. Karasu patiently listened and answered all questions.

It was decided that as a person who makes memories out of feelings; as an impulsive human who observes and makes decisions based on natural states- Diavolo would not be notified of your return.

You had to see him in his true state: unprepared, surprised; to realise if the relationship could be mended.

The brothers however, will know. You are not ashamed to admit that you asked them a favour - making necessary preparations. Evoking the pact to make sure secrecy was upheld like a virtue. They didn’t mind. They knew you trusted them and this was just to ensure Lucifer’s silence to the man that betrayed you.

And in uncertainty, while lacking bravery; you set out. Back to the castle. Back home.

But the ride back was less pleasant than the experiments. Countless scenarios plagued your mind. Your sanity was seemingly throwing different conversations your way.

Menacing. Dramatic. Sad.

Then suddenly in a leap of love- it hit you with grandiose romantic gestures of apology. Honey words that felt true.

What will Diavolo do when you meet again? Everything depended on that.

Could it be that he even betrayed those daydreams of yours? Stepping outside, in front of the gate, clearly showed that fate would not answer your questions soon enough.

Time, bewildering time, my dear.

Diavolo did not welcome you- Barbatos did. How expected of him to be so calm by your sudden return. His demeanour always amazed you. Even while expressing his surprise upon such a turn of events he remained eloquent. Almost idyllic.

The man controlled time, he toyed with it in an intricate dance; why were you so surprised? Was it because in those daydreams, in those silly expectations of yours; Diavolo was the only man you wondered about? Where was he right now?

Barbatos led you inside the tea room. Was he toying with you now as well?

This room. This intricately decorated room was always your favourite inside a castle which felt enormous; never ending. Ceaseless. The word home could have been this room by itself. Why? It was always warm. Cozy. It was where you would spend time while Diavolo was relentlessly busy. It was where you would relentlessly force him to take breaks.

Most of all, It was where the two of you existed outside of pressure. It was where the two of you kissed for the first time. Countless nights of love and pleasure happened right here.

Barbatos was definitely toying with you. If he did not become a close friend over all of these years you would have cursed him out.

He brought a sweet aroma in your favourite tea cup. Yup. He set it down with a gentle smile. You definitely would have cursed him out for using gold-lined tea cups Diavolo gifted you.

Your eyes stayed on his figure while, unable to resist, the cup found way into your hand. There was no need to ask Barbatos anything. He remained a perfect butler.

“My Lord will be here momentarily. If we were notified of your return, we would have cleared his schedule.”

A slip up. Barbatos made a mistake. Unfathomable.

His words were serene once again. Just like when you departed. The surface of the water is serene, what goes on below? What did his seemingly simple words hide?

Did he say it on purpose? Did he do so out of care for you?

“Barbatos.”

You have to be brave now more than ever my dear. Barbatos gave it away in case you were not aware. How kind of him.

“Yes? Is there something not to your liking?” “I noticed how you referred to Diavolo as my Lord, not our. This had changed since I left.”

Silence. Continue to be brave.

“I know Barbatos. I know that his hands have touched someone else. I know that he slept with them in our bed.”

Your voice was flat. Barbatos stayed silent out of respect for you. In reality, his masqueraded words meant much more. How could Barbatos, utterly loyal, admit that he himself considered Diavolo weak? His Lord was weak for the temptations. He could never say, but you knew.

In that moment, rushed footsteps echoing outside in the hallway reached you. The door sprung open swiftly. In such speed and urgency unseen before. Diavolo stood there. In disbelief. Marvelling at your sudden return in ardent admiration.

He stood there, breathless from running to see you. For months now this tea room was devoid of your presence. For months now he longed for your return. Oh how Diavolo yearned to open this door and see your form blessing it.

And here you were. Magnificent. Radiant.

Barbatos had to interrupt this moment because peace could not exist after what was spoken. He turned towards the door, walking out. His lips parted open for a whisper to Diavolo. “They know everything.” He gracefully exited. Diavolo stood still, unable to meet your gaze.

He deserves this shame.

You sat there looking at him. He was breathless, bewitching. ...But was it because of excitement for you? His hair was messy, his tie was loose.

Was this the work of the other woman? His whore? When was the last time her fingers touched him so intimately?

How pitiful was it to glance up at him like this.

My dear, why do you call the woman a whore? Diavolo was the strongest man of them all. He was no easy target. Why do you make it sound like she took him? He gave himself away. He probably seduced her.

You stood up. Smiled at the man undeserving of kindness. He saw it. He saw it and yet his eyes still avoided yours.

Guilt. For the first time,perhaps ever in his life, Diavolo was hesitant. Approaching you like this was a confession of his betrayal.

He stayed silent as your hands gently fixed his tie that someone else tugged on not too long ago. “This is no way to present yourself. Do you wish for them to say the future King grew messy?”

How ironic was this rhetorical question phrased just like the one on the day you left? How much of a paradox was this position identical to the way you two said goodbye in love?

Diavolo still loved you.

That much you knew when his hand grabbed yours in a desperate attempt to keep you close. To keep the magnificent presence within this room. His serious gaze was solely focused on you. If only you were the sole partner.

His deep voice, filled with regret, still charmed. “One word from you and she will be banished forever. I adore you. I was helpless without you around. That is what made me so weak to fall into this predicament. I love you. You know that.”

His fingers intertwined with yours. A pathetic attempt. How dare he cite your absence as his justification?! There is a clear difference between that justified and that which was just an excuse.

If you had to say anything to get the other woman out of the castle it was already pointless to try and rectify this broken trust; broken love; between the two of you.

Good observation my dear, the other woman became pregnant while you were still receiving treatment. She gave him something you sacrificed every part of yourself for.

“Diavolo...” Your soft voice trailing off already told him the conclusion he was dreading. Begging to avoid. He knew of your humanity; he knew how pitiful he was. Diavolo, despite everything, still was enough of a man; enough of a lover, to know he had to respect your decision.

Your hand slipped from his hold. He remained still. Like a statue of a fallen hero.

“Diavolo, huh?”, a deep sigh. How long had he not heard you call his name? Was this the tone he must remember the end by? He cannot have that. His heart cannot have that.

“Beloved, please. Just once more. It would be a tragedy to part like this. Have you really stopped loving me?”

You knew what he was asking for. How kind of you to fulfil his wish; gently fixing a few strands of his hair, while love still lingered in your eyes. My dear, this is almost cruel from you.

With those eyes you looked into his. Gave him a sad smile and graced him, graced his wish, in a soft voice.

“My only one, my love belongs to those that are faithful.”

(I hope you have enjoyed reading it until now. I wonder how you feel and if you like it. Feel free to talk to me and ask me questions if you have any. Your feedback is treasured. I promise you. Posting this at 1:34am tho has me feeling a bit loopy. Is loopy a word? Unsure. However from the bottom of my heart- thank you for reading until now.)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #cheating #angst #diavolo

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Dark”

Welcome back, everyone! Can you believe it's been six weeks already? I can't. Something something the uncomfortable passage of time during a pandemic as emphasized by a web-series.

But we're here to talk about RWBY the fictional story, not RWBY the cultural icon. At least, we will in a moment. First, I'd like to acknowledge that shaky line between the two, growing blurrier with every volume. A sort of good news, bad news situation.

The bad news — to get that out of the way — is that we cannot easily separate RWBY from its authors and those authors have, sadly, been drawing a lot of negative attention as of late. This isn't anything new, not at all, but I think the unexpectedly long hiatus gave a lot of fans (myself included) the chance to think about Rooster Teeth's failings without getting distracted by their biggest and brightest production. There's a laundry list of problems here — everything from the behavior of voice actors to the quality of their merch — but as a sort of summary issue, I'd like to highlight the reviews that continue to pop up on websites like Glassdoor, detailing the toxic, sexist, crunch-obsessed environment that RT employees are forced to work in. A lot of these websites requires a login to read more than a page of reviews, but you can check out a Twitter thread about it here.

Now, I want to be clear: I'm not bringing this up as a way to shame anyone enjoying RWBY. This isn't a simplistic claim of, "The authors are Problematic™ and therefore you can't like the stuff they produce." Nor is this meant to be a catch-all excuse for RWBY's problems. If it were, I'd have dropped these recaps years ago. I'm of the belief that audiences maintain the right to both praise and criticize the work they're given, regardless of the context in which that work was produced. At the end of the day, RT has presented RWBY as a finished product and, more than that, presents it as an excellent product, one worth both our emotional investment and our money (whether in the form of paying for a First account, or encouraging us to buy merch, attend cons, etc.) I'll continue to critique RWBY as needed, but I a) wanted fans to be at least peripherally aware of these issues and b) clarify that my use of "RT" in statements like, "I can't believe RT is screwing up this badly" is meant to be a broad, nebulas acknowledgement that someone in the company is screwing up, either creatively (doesn't have the skill to write a good scene) or morally (hasn't created an environment in which other creators are capable of crafting a good scene). The real, inner workings of such companies are mostly a secret to their audiences and thus it's near impossible for someone like me — random fan writing these for fun as a casual side hobby — to accurately point fingers. Hence, broad "RT." I just wanted to clarify that when I use this it's as a necessary placeholder for whoever is actually responsible, not a damnation of the overworked animator breaking down in a bathroom. Heavy stuff, but I thought it was necessary (or at least worthwhile) to acknowledge this issue as we head into the second half of the volume.

Now for the good news: RWBY has reached 100 episodes! For any who may not know, 100 is a pretty significant number in the TV world because, when talking about prime time programming, it guarantees syndicated reruns. Basically, networks don't want audiences to get burned out with a show — changing the channel when it comes on because ugh, I've seen this already, recently too — and 100 episodes allows for a roughly five month run without any repeats, making it very profitable. RWBY is obviously not a television show and doesn't benefit from any of this (hell, modern television doesn't benefit from this as much as it used to, not in the age of streaming), but the 100 episode threshold is still ingrained in American culture. Beyond just being a nice, rounded number, it is historically a measure of huge success and I can't imagine that RT isn't aware of that. Regardless of what we think of RWBY's current quality, this is one hell of a milestone and should be applauded.

All that being said... RWBY's quality is definitely still lacking lol.

Our 100th episode is titled "Dark" — keeping with the one word titles, then — and I'd like to emphasize that, as a 100th episode, it definitely delivers in terms of plot. There's plenty of action, important character beats, and at least one major reveal, everything we'd expect from a milestone and a Part II premiere. The animation also continues to be noteworthy for its beauty, as I found myself admiring many of the screenshots I took for this recap. There are certainly things to praise. The only problem (one we're all familiar with by now) is that these small successes are situated within a narrative that's otherwise falling apart. It's all good stuff... provided you ignore literally everything else surrounding it.

But let's dive into some examples. We open on Qrow starting, awoken by the thunder outside. Robyn has been watching him and makes a peppy comment about how none of them will be sleeping tonight, followed by a more serious, "Sounds bad out there." Yeah, it does sound bad, especially when they all know — thanks to Ruby's message back in Volume 7 — that this is due to Salem's arrival. I think a lot of the fandom has forgotten that little detail because people often discuss Qrow as if he is entirely ignorant of what is going on outside his cell. Even if we were to assume that he's forgotten all about the pesky Salem issue (the horror of Clover's death overriding everything else, perhaps) he still knows that Tyrian is running loose in a heat-less city with a creepy storm going on and, from his perspective, the Very Evil Ironwood is still running the show. So it's bad, which begs the question of why Qrow (and Robyn, for that matter) hasn't displayed an ounce of legitimate worry for everyone he knows out there. Thus far, their interactions have centered entirely around Qrow's misplaced blame and Robyn's terrible attempts to lighten the mood, despite the fact that a war is raging right beyond that wall. It's another example of RWBY's inability to manage tone properly, to say nothing of balancing the multiple concerns any one character should be trying to juggle. Just as it rankles that Ruby and Yang don't seem to care about what has happened to their uncle, Qrow likewise doesn't seem to care about what might be happening to his nieces. When did we reach a point where these relationships are so broken that someone can be arrested/chucked into a deadly battle and the others just... ignore that?

So Robyn's otherwise innocuous comment immediately reminds me of how badly the narrative has treated these conflicts and, sadly, things don't improve much from here. We are thankfully spared more of Robyn's jokes when Qrow realizes that what he's hearing can't be thunder. A second later, Cinder blasts through the wall — called it! — and Qrow instinctively transforms.

The only downside to this moment is that the whole ceiling falls down on Qrow and the others because APPARENTLY these cells don't have tops on them. Seriously. As far as I can recall we don't see the stone breaking through the forcefield somehow and this looks pretty open to me.

If it is... you're telling me these crazy powerful fighters who practice landing strategies and leap tall buildings in a single bound —

— can't just hop over this mildly high electric fence to get out? Qrow can't just fly away?

We're, like, two minutes in, folks.

We transfer to Nora's perspective as she wakes up, seeing Klein giving her the IV. He tells her not to worry, that "you and your friend are going to be just fine." What friend? Penny? Klein went upstairs prior to Weiss hugging Whitley or Penny crash landing outside. I had thought them bursting through the door with another unconscious friend was the first time he learned what the big bang outside was, but apparently not.

Penny is, obviously, a mess. While I now understand the choice to make her blood such an eye-catching color when that's crucial to the Hound's hunt, I still think it looks strange visually. Like someone has taken a copy of RWBY and painted over it. It doesn't look like it fits the art style. More than that, it implies some rather complicated things about Penny's humanity, especially in a volume focused around her being a "real girl." Real enough for Maiden powers, but with obviously inhuman blood that isn't even referred to as "bleeding." Penny "leaks" instead.

Toss in the fact that she's literally an android who is made up of tech — recall the running gags about her being heavy, or it hurts to fist-bump her, to say nothing of keeping things like multiple blades inside her body — yet Klein says that her "basic anatomy" is the same and he can "stitch up that wound."

I'm sorry, what? Whatever Penny looks like on the inside, it's not going to resemble a human woman's anatomy, and Klein might be able to stitch the outer layer of skin she's got, but that won't do anything to fix whatever metal bits have been broken underneath. Penny isn't a human-robot hybrid, she's a robot with an aura. Penny has knives in her back, rockets in her feet, and a super computer behind her eyes. When our clip introduced that Klein would be the one to help Penny, my initial reaction was, "Seriously? He's a butler and a doctor and an engineer?" But RWBY didn't even try to get away with a Super Klein explanation, they just waved away Penny's very obvious, inhuman anatomy. Yeah, I'm sure "stitching up" an android wound is just like giving Nora her IV. I hope the surgical sutures he used are extra strong!

In an effort to not entirely drag this episode, I do appreciate that Whitley is allowed an "ugh" moment about the non-blood covering his shirt without anyone calling him out on it. That felt like the sort of thing the show would usually try to make a character feel guilty about and I'm glad that, for once, he was just allowed to be frustrated without comment.

Then the power goes out and May calls, which raises questions about what state the CCTS is in and when scrolls are available to our protagonists vs. when they're not. But whatever. She's checking in because she just "saw another bombing run light up the Kingdom" and —

Wait. Bombing? Salem is bombing the city? I know we've seen explosions in the sky, but I'd always just attributed that to evil aesthetic. Why does this dialogue sound like it's from a World War II film and not a fantasy sci-fi show about literal monsters launching a ground attack?

May looks pretty against the sky though. I like her hair color against that purple.

I'm admittedly grasping at positives here because we finally return to her "You have to choose" ultimatum and — surprise! — May has pulled back completely. Ruby says that once they've helped Penny, "We'll...we'll do something!" which is once again her avoiding making a decision. Ruby still refuses to choose, instead falling back on generic, optimistic pep talks. They'll figure out how to stop Salem later. They'll think about the impact of telling the world later. They'll choose who to help later. Ruby keeps pushing these problems into the future where, she hopes, a perfect, magical solution will have appeared for her to latch onto. When that continues to not happen, others pressuring her to actually do something and stop waiting for perfection — Ironwood, Yang, May — she panics and continues stalling for time. Wait an episode and the narrative supports her in this.

Because initially May was forcing Ruby to decide. Now, May enables her desire to keep putting things off. "Don't beat yourself up, kid. At this point, I don't know how much is left to be done." That's the exact opposite of what May believed last episode, that there was still so much work and good to do for the people of Mantle. This is precisely what the show did with Yang and Ren's scenes too, having people call Ruby out... but then return to a message of, 'Don't worry, you're actually doing just fine' before Ruby is forced to actually change.

None of which even touches on May calling her "kid" in this moment. That continues to be a convenient way of absolving Ruby of any responsibility. When she wants to steal airships or Amity Tower, she's an adult everyone should listen to, the leader of this war. When the story wants to absolve her of previously mentioned flaws, she becomes a kid who shouldn't "beat herself up." I said years ago that RWBY couldn't continue to let the group be both children and adults simultaneously, yet here we are.

So that was a thoroughly disappointing scene. Ruby gets her moment to look sad and defeated, listing "the grimm, the crater, Nora, Penny" as problems she doesn't know how to solve. Note that 'Immortal witch attacking the city I've helped trap here' isn't included in that list. Ruby is still ignoring Salem herself and no one in the group is picking up where May left off, challenging her to do more than wring her hands over things others are already trying to take care of: Ironwood is fighting the grimm, May has gone off to help the crater, Klein is patching up Nora and Penny. Ruby, as one flawed individual, should not be expected to come up with a solution to everything, but she does need to stop acting like she can come up with a solution to everything when it matters most (office scene) and rejecting others' solutions when they ask for her help (Ironwood, May).

If it feels like I'm dragging the flawed, traumatized teenager too much, it's not in an effort to ignore those aspects of her identity. Rather, it's because she's also the licensed huntress who wrested control from a world leader and violently demanded she be put in charge of this battle. Ruby, by her own actions, is now responsible for dealing with these problems, or admitting she was wrong and letting others take the lead, without purposefully derailing their plans. She doesn't get to suddenly go, "I don't know," cry a little, and get sympathetic pats.

But of course that's precisely what happens, courtesy of Weiss.

During this whole scene I kept wondering why no one was celebrating Nora waking up, especially when Ruby outright mentions her. Have they just not noticed given all the Penny drama? Because Nora absolutely woke up.

Aaaand went back to sleep, I guess. What was the point of that POV shot? No worries though, she'll wake up again in a minute.

Willow arrives and announces that they can fix the power (and Penny) using the generator at the edge of the property. I'm convinced RT doesn't actually know what a generator is because the characters are acting like it's some super special device that only richy-rich could possibly have. Whitley says that it's the SDC executives who have their "own power supply" and that it's "extremely unfair." Now, don't get me wrong, a good generator powering large portions of your house can run you 30k+, but you can also get one that plugs into your extension cord and powers your fridge for a couple hundred. There's absolutely a class issue here, just not the one Whitley and Weiss seem to be commenting on. They make a generator sound like the sort of device that only a politician-CEO could possible have and it's weird.

Likely, it sounds weird because it's a choppy way of getting Whitley to bring up the wealth disparity so he can then go, 'That's right! We're crazy rich with a company housing tons of ships! We can use those to evacuate Mantle.' Awkwardness aside, I do like that the Schnee wealth is being used for good purposes, but... evacuate where? To the city currently under attack by a giant whale? In a RWBY that wasn't determined to demonize Ironwood, this would have been a great plot point during the office scene instead, with Weiss offering her services to Ironwood, even if the group decides that a continued evacuation still isn't possible.

Instead, we get it here from Whitley. Do I need to point out the obvious? That Whitley is the MVP of this episode? He's done more good in an HOUR than the group has managed in a year. Give this kid some training and make him a huntsmen instead.

We're given a (very pretty!) shot of the shattered moon because it wouldn't be RWBY if we weren't continually reminded that gods once wiped out humanity before destroying part of a celestial body... and absolutely no one talks about that lol.

Blake's coat might not make any sense for her color scheme, but it does make her easy to spot as she and Ruby run across the grounds. Oh my god, they're actually doing something together! It only took eight years. They even get a lovely talk where Blake admits how much she looks up to Ruby, despite her being younger, and once again I'm struck at how much more I would have loved this scene if it had appeared elsewhere in the series. It is, indeed, as sweet and emotional as all the RWBY GIF-ers are claiming... provided you overlook that this is the exact opposite of what Ruby needs to hear right now. She doesn't need to hear that she's more mature and reliable than her elders when she's functioning under a "We don't need adults" mentality. She doesn't need to hear that not knowing what to do is totally fine, not when that led to her turning on Ironwood, despite not knowing how to stop Salem. She doesn't need to hear that "doing something" — doing anything — is a strength, because Ruby keeps avoiding the big problems for smaller ones she's comfortable with, like standing by Penny's bedside instead of deciding between Mantle and Atlas. Blake's speech is heartfelt, but it's a speech that suits a Beacon days Ruby who is having some doubts about her leadership skills, not the girl whose impulsive — and now lack of — actions is having world-wide repercussions. Everyone is babying Ruby to a staggering degree. It's like if we had a med show where the doctor is standing by the bedside of a coding patient, fretting between two treatments. 'Don't worry,' their colleague says, patting their shoulder. 'I've always looked up to you. You'll do something when you're ready' and then they continue to watch the patient, you know, die.

Also: who does Ruby look up to? Everyone talks about how much they depend on and trust Ruby, but who does Ruby look to for guidance? A number of her problems stem from the fact that she has rejected the advice of everyone who has tried to help her improve: Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, even Yang. Ruby is presented as the pinnacle of what to strive for in a leader, rather than a leader who has only been doing this for two years and still has a great deal to learn.

Anyway, they get the generator on and the Hound shows up.

I am begging RT to just make RWBY a horror story. All their best scenes the last three years have been horror I am bEGGING —

Anyway, while Ruby waits to be eaten we cut to Willow and Klein, the former of which is reaching for her bottle, pulling back, reaching again, all while her hand shakes. This is good. This is what we should have gotten with Qrow. Which isn't to say that their (or anyone's) addiction should be identical, but rather that this is a far more engaging and complex look at addiction than what our birb got. Willow tells us that she doesn't drink in the dark despite bringing the bottle with her; tries to resist drinking when she's scared and ultimately fails. Qrow just decided to stop drinking after decades of addiction, seemingly for no reason, and that was that. Why is a side character we only met this volume written better than one of the main cast?

Blake manages to call Weiss about the Hound and she asks if Whitley can handle the airships without her. I mean, I assume so given that Weiss is looking at the bookshelves while Whitley does all the work lol. He makes a teasing comment about how he can if she can handle that grimm and she comments that they still need to work on his "attitude."

No they don't. Weiss stuck a weapon in her kid brother's face. Whitley made a joke. Even if Weiss' comment is likewise meant to be read as teasing, it's clear that we've bypassed any meaningful conversation between them. That hug was supposed to be a Fix Everything moment even though, as I've laid out elsewhere, it didn't even come close.

We cut back to Ruby getting thrown through a wall into the backyard and the Hound creepily coming after her. She's freaked out by this clearly abnormal grimm and Blake is weirdly... not? "It's just a grimm. Just focus!" Uh, it's obviously not. Have we reached the traumatized, sleep-deprived point where the group is sinking into full-blown denial? I wouldn't be surprised. They've been awake for like... 40+ hours.

Because the Hound knocks Ruby out with a single hit. Just, bam, she's down. "Focusing" is not the solution here.

Weiss calls to warn the others about the grimm, telling them to stick together. Willow (understandably) starts freaking out and flees the room (classic horror trope!). Klein is left alone when Penny wakes up with red eyes. Oh no!

Don't worry. You know nothing meaningful happens.

She shoves Klein before (somehow?) resisting the hack, her Maiden powers going wild in the process. Just when it looks as if Penny might cause some serious damage, Nora wakes up, takes her hand, and says, I kid you not:

"Hey... no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to do... It's just a part of you. Don't forget about the rest."

Okay. I want to re-emphasize that I love hopeful, uplifting, victory-won-through-the-power-of-love stories. Istg I'm not dead inside, it's just that RWBY does this so badly. I mean, what is this? It has similarities to the character shouting, 'No! Resist!' to their mind-controlled ally, but this is not presented as a desperate, last-ditch effort by Nora. She just speaks like this is the most obvious truth in the world. If you don't want to have your mind taken over... just don't! It's that simple. The problem definitely isn't that Watts has changed her coding and has implemented a command she can't override, it's that Penny has forgotten about the "rest" of her personhood.

And this works. Granted, not for long, but we leave Nora having successfully calmed Penny down and until her eyes unexpectedly go red again scenes later, we're left assuming that this is a permanent solution. That, imo anyway, is taking the Power of Love too far, overriding the basic reality of Penny being hacked. It’s not a personal failing she must overcome, it’s an external attack. I would have rather had Nora react to the scars she saw on her arm, or have a moment with Klein, or get some love from the group. Not a wakes up, falls asleep, wakes up again to save Penny with a Ruby level 'Just ignore reality' pep-talk, then back to sleep again.

So Penny isn't attacking her allies, or mistakenly hurting her allies with wild Maiden powers. Not that the group doesn't have enough to deal with, but still. Weiss arrives to help with the Hound and attempts a new summon, only to fail when two minor grimm burrow up into her glyphs. I really enjoyed that moment, both for the wing visual and the knowledge that Weiss' glyphs can fail if you break them somehow (which makes sense). Also, I just like that she failed in general? Weiss is, as per usual now, about to demonstrate just how OP she is compared to the rest of the team, so it was nice to see her faltering here.

The Hound tries to make off with Ruby and Blake does an excellent job of keeping it tethered. Ruby finally wakes, only to realize that the grimm is actually after Penny since it's staring at her power up through the window, no longer trying to escape. Moments like this remind me that there's someone on RT's writing team that knows what they're doing, at least some of the time. The assumption that the Hound is after Ruby as a SEW, the surprise that it's actually Penny, realizing it holds up because Ruby is covered in Penny's blood and Blake is not... that's all nice, tight plotting. More of that please!

The Hound drops her and Ruby's aura shatters when she hits the ground. I want everyone to remember this moment as an example of how strong the Hound is. The group may be tired, but unlike YJR they've been sitting around in the Schnee manor for a number of hours, regaining strength. We saw the Hound hit Ruby twice — once through the wall and once to knock her out — and then she falls from a not very high distance for a huntress, yet her aura is toast. That's the level of power and skill the Hound possesses. Decimating YJR, knocking Oscar out, same for Ruby, avoiding Blake and Weiss' hits, soon to treat Penny like a ragdoll. Just remember all this for the episode's end.

Blake tells Weiss she'll take care of Ruby, you go help the others. Yay breaking up the duos more! Bad timing though as the new acid-spitting grimm pops out of the ground and Blake is now left alone to face it.

Weiss re-enters the mansion, knowing the Hound is somewhere nearby, but not where. Suddenly, Willow's voice sounds through her scroll with an, "Above you!" which... doesn't keep Weiss from getting hit lol. But it's the thought that counts! Willow has accessed the cameras she's set up throughout the manor, watching the Hound's movements, and I have to say, that is a WAY better use of her separation from Klein than I thought we were getting. I legit thought they'd have Willow run away in a panic, meet the Hound, die, and then Weiss could be sad about losing her mom.

It does say something about RWBY's writing that this was my knee-jerk theory, as well as my surprise when we got something way better.

The Hound runs off, uninterested in Weiss, and she asks Willow to keep tabs on it. It heads for Whitley next (also covered in Penny's blood) and very creepily stalks him in the office with a, "I know you're here." Whitley is seconds away from being Hound chow before one of Weiss' boars pin it against the wall. He runs, then runs BACK to finish deploying the airships, before finally escaping assumed death. Goddamn this boy is pulling his weight.

I assume all these ships are automated then? I hope someone takes a moment to call May. Otherwise it's going to be super weird for the Mantle citizens if a fleet of SDC ships just show up and hover there...

I don't entirely understand how Weiss saved him though. She's nowhere to be seen when Whitley leaves and he runs a fair distance before he and Willow encounter Weiss again. We know her summons don't have to keep right next to her, but are they capable of rudimentary thought, attacking an enemy — and an enemy only — despite Weiss being a couple corridors down and unable to see the current battlefield? I don't know. In another series I'd theorize that this was a deliberate hint, a way to clue us into the fact that Willow, someone who we currently know almost nothing about, had training in the past and summoned the boar herself. Weiss and Winter certainly didn't get that hereditary skill from Jacques. Hell, we might still get that, Weiss reacting with confusion next episode when Whitley thanks her for the boar, but I doubt it. That scene with Ruby and the Hound aside, the show isn't this good at laying groundwork and then following up on it.

Case in point: Weiss says, "I didn't forget you" to Whitley after he gets away from the Hound, the moment trying to harken back to her promise to Willow. Key word is "trying." Because she absolutely forgot him! Weiss threatened and ignored Whitley until he proved his usefulness. I also shouldn't need to point out that, "Don't forget your brother" does not mean, "Don't let your brother die a horrible death by abnormal grimm." Weiss acts like her saving him is a fulfillment of her promise, rather than just the most basic of human decency. And also, you know, her job.

So that part is frustrating. The entire Schnee dynamic is a mess, from Weiss making a joke of her father's arrest, to Willow (presumably) fixing their relationship by putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Okay.

Then Weiss cuts off the Hound by summoning a giant wall of ice. My brain, every time this happens:

YOU COULD HAVE FIXED THE HOLE IN MANTLE'S WALL.

Moving on, Blake's fight against the acid... thing has some great choreography, including Blake using her semblance which we haven't seen in AGES.

I really like the fight itself, just not what Blake is shouting the whole time. "I need you, Ruby! We all need you!" This has really gotten ridiculous. Ruby is presented as everyone's sole savior despite failing time and time again. It's not that I don't think Blake as a character should have faith in her leader, it's that I don't think the writers should be crafting a story where everyone puts their unshakable hopes in an untrained, disloyal, impulsive 17 year old. I mean, Ruby is currently unconscious, yet Blake is acting like if she doesn't wake up — she, as an individual, if Ruby Rose does not re-join this fight — then all is lost. If Ruby doesn't save them, no one can. Which is, of course, absurd on numerous levels. Blake doesn't need the passed out, aura-less Ruby right now, she needs the still very healthy Weiss pulling out multiple summons and an ice wall! Use your scroll and call for backup again.

But of course, Ruby wakes up and kills the new, terrifying grimm with a single hit. It's a preview of what's to come with the Hound and it's just as ridiculous here as it will be there.

Speaking of the Hound, am I the only one who thought this was... cute?

I can't possibly be the only one. That head-tilt is exactly what my dogs do and my brain instinctively went, "Aww, puppy!"

Murderous puppy.

The Hound realizes none of the Schnees are who it's looking for and runs off. Penny, meanwhile, has been fully taken over because, well, that's just what's convenient now. She resists long enough keep Amity up, then succumbs, then resists to apologize to Ruby, then succumbs, then resists because Nora asked her to, then succumbs once it's time to knock her out. If RWBY was willing to commit to consequences, Penny would have been taken over and that was that. The characters would need to deal with whatever outcome happens as a result. Instead, the show very carefully avoids any of those pesky consequences by having Penny successfully resisting at key moments, despite no explanation of how she's managing that.

She shoves Klein again (Klein is having a Bad Time) and starts walking down the main steps. When Whitley wants to know where the hell she's going, Penny mechanically responds that she must "Open the vault, then self-destruct." I suppose the change Watts made was the self-destruct order? Ironwood obviously wants the vault open, though not necessarily Penny's death. Think what you will of his moral compass, she's a damn powerful ally — a research project, perhaps — and a Maiden to boot. At the very least, her death may give the powers to someone even worse.

God, please don't let them have brought Penny back and made her a Maiden just to kill her again.

The Hound arrives though and, as said, knocks Penny out. We're back to square one with her, then. Note though that this attack is near instantaneous. She grabs its hands one second, is hanging limply the next. Wow, the Hound sure is a terrifying antagonist!

Not for long.

"That's enough," Ruby says and one-shots it with her eyes.

Now, I want to talk for a moment about the implications of that line. "That's enough." Obviously Ruby is #done with this situation and emotionally unwilling to let the Hound kidnap Penny (congratulations, Nuts and Dolts shippers), but there's a meta reading here as well. Not intentional, but glaring to me nonetheless. Basically, the idea that the Hound has, from a plot perspective, done enough. It has served its singular purpose. It kidnapped Oscar and now it dies. Never-mind how insanely powerful we've established the Hound to be, never-mind how Ruby's eyes also work or don't work according to whether anything of actual import is on the line. From a plot perspective "that's enough" and the Hound can be disposed of instantly. It got Oscar and gave us an episode of filler creepiness. Move along now.

The idea behind Ruby's eyes isn't bad, but the execution absolutely is. RT has undermined a huge portion of the stakes by giving their protagonist an instant kill-shot that always works precisely when she needs it to. Starting with the Apathy, we have yet to get a moment where Ruby's eyes fail to save the day when she really needs them to, no matter how incredible the challenge. The Hound was very intentionally written to be a grimm outside of the group's current power level. It thinks, it talks, they literally can't touch it. This creates the expectation that the group will need to grow stronger — or at least become smarter — in order to surmount this new obstacle, yet Ruby's eyes undermine all of that. The group hasn't grown in years, the show just makes enemies weaker as needed (Ace Ops), or has Ruby pull out her eyes as a trump card. It wouldn't be that bad if we'd at least gotten a good battle out of it, one where the group gets close to defeating the Hound on their own, but needs Ruby's eyes to finish it off. Instead, she literally walks up without any aura, announces to the audience that this antagonist's time is up, and blasts it out a window.

Granted, Ruby's eyes don't completely finish it. The Hound pulls itself to its feet and we see this.

Yup, that's a guy and yup, those are silver eyes.

I would like to issue a formal apology to the "It's secretly Summer!" theorists in the fandom. I mean, I still think it would be ridiculous (and at this point highly improbable) that Ruby's dead mother has actually been a grimm mutant this whole time, just hanging out in Salem's realm while she waits for the plot to start before attacking the world, and then sends some no-name faunus dude after the group instead of their leader's mother for extra, emotional torture... but you all were definitely right about the “It's a person” part! I... don't know how I feel about this. Admittedly, it seems to be a logical continuation of the other grimm-human hybrids we've seen — namely Cinder and Salem herself — and it finally explains why Salem wants Ruby alive (even though it actually doesn't because WHY did she want more SEWs for Hound grimm when she wasn't even attacking back then? And already has all these other insanely powerful tools??), but at the same time, it feels like it's complicating a story that doesn't need further complications. The group fights monsters and has an immortal enemy. You don't need to add 'Some of those monsters are secretly human' to the mix.

It doesn't hurt that this twist is giving me Attack on Titan vibes, which, ew. A dark time in my fandom life, folks.

The Hound staggers a few steps before Whitley and Willow dump a suit of armor on it. That's all it takes to kill the most dangerous grimm we've ever seen: a single flash of silver eyes and some heavy metal. This also wreaks havoc with the implication that Salem wants SEWs alive because they create such powerful grimm. Obviously not. I mean yeah, normal huntsmen are going to have serious problems, we’ve seen that this volume, but any other SEWs nearby will take a Hound out instantaneously. For a villain with so many other powerful abilities — immortality, magic, endless normal grimm, her nifty soup — Salem would be much better served just killing SEWs straight out. Clearly, creating Hounds isn't worth the effort.

The Hound leaves some bones behind and Ruby collapses to her knees, overcome with the knowledge that this was once a person. Again, uncomfortable Attack on Titan parallels.

We finish our premiere with Cinder clearing away rubble to reveal Watts. Honestly, I like that we ended on this because her rescue is hilarious. She just slings him over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes and blasts off with her magic fire feet. Fantastic.

Note though that with this scene we've seen almost everything from the clip and the trailer. What's to come in the rest of Volume 8? No idea. Outside of Winter leading the charge with the bomb, we got it all here.

Time to update the bingo board!

I'm crossing off "Introducing new grimm that are quickly abandoned." Between the Hound and acid-dude both falling to a single blast/cut from Ruby, we've more than earned this square.

It doesn't look as if we'll get another Watts-Jacques team-up now that he's left, but you never know.

Maria's got me worried. I feel like her Yoda fight against Neo is the one thing she'll be allowed to do this volume, but given that we didn't see anyone except Ruby's group this episode, we don't yet know whether the story is now ignoring her and Pietro, or if they'll re-appear in another episode like YJR.

Qrow is free. Will he get a drink before trying to murder Ironwood? Perhaps.

Still no bingo :(

All in all, the episode was by no means horrible. I think there were lots of horrible parts, but also some legitimately well executed moments, fun action, and scenes that I can easily imagine as squee worthy if you lean back and squint. Everything is comparative and in the growing collection of bad RWBY episodes, this one isn't securing a top slot. Which doesn't mean I think it's good, just... not as bad as it could have been and primarily only bad due to long-running problems, not things this specific episode has done. That's my bar then, so low it has officially entered the underworld.

Still, RWBY is back and a part of me is eager to see where this volume takes us, for better or for worse.

Until next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby dark

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eretzyisrael · 3 years

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Lama Al-Manar, 36, doesn't remember what she put into the small bag she was carrying when she stepped into a Red Crescent ambulance, other than medical documents. She doesn't remember the last words her husband, who was riding with her, said to her before they separated at the Erez crossing. She doesn't know whether he followed them with his gaze when she walked toward the crossing and passed from the Gaza Strip to Israel, where a Magen David Adom ambulance was waiting for her.

From the moment she left Shifa Hospital that afternoon, until she arrived at Sheba Medical Center at Tel Hashomer some five hours later, Lima's eyes never left the incubator that was holding her son, Abdullah, 2.5 months old, whose tiny body was receiving oxygen.

She also wouldn't have remembered what day it was if they hadn't explained how lucky she had been. It was Monday, May 10, 2021, the day on which Operation Guardian of the Walls against Hamas infrastructure in Gaza began. The ambulance that brought her and her son to Israel was the last allowed through Erez crossing before it was closed for 13 days.

Three children are waiting for her at home. Two years ago, she gave birth to a stillborn child, and when she became pregnant for the fifth time, she was eager for the new baby to bring joy back to the home. But Abdullah was born two months prematurely with a complicated heart defect and Lamaand her husband realized they would need to fight for his life.

"I was afraid. His condition wasn't good," Lama says. "He lost weight, and his breathing and other parameters slowed. I prayed to God to heal him. To fight for his little life. A doctor at Shifa Hospital recommended that we send him to Israel for treatment. My husband reached out to the Shevet Achim organization to help us get him there."

Thursday afternoon, the 11th day of the Gaza campaign. The radio reports a rocket alert in Ashkelon, and then a direct hit on a residential building. We arrive at the parking structure attached to the labor ward at Sheba Medical Center, which is next to the Edmond and Lily Safra Children's Hospital. The children's ICU was transferred here on the fifth day of the fighting for fear of rocket hits.

We go down one floor. After walking through the gray halls lined with oxygen tanks at the ready, we encounter a colorful sign decorated with a drawing of a sun and a kite: "Protected Children's ICU." Reality stays outside. In the parking structure, which was filled with cars the previous week, there are 40 small beds. Each one takes up two parking places, and holds a small baby who is hooked up to medical equipment. Nearby is a treatment station, a computer, and a lounge chair for adults.

The beds are separated by flowered curtains that were hung on the metal pipes that line the parking garage's ceiling. No one closes the curtains. There are also hanging screens that are attached to monitors that fill the space with dim beeping.

In the center of the improvised unit are a dialysis cart and another cart that holds equipment for chest drainage. Sometimes, a baby's cry can be heard. It is weak, and starts and stops quickly.

Over bed No. 26 a sign reads: "Abdullah Al-Manar. Date of birth: Feb. 26, 2021. Weight: 1.6 kg (3.52 pounds)." Lamasits on the chair and watches Shani, the nurse, take off Abdullah's cloth diaper, exposing a large incision that runs from his chest to his belly. Shani changes the dressing, rubs cream on it, puts his medicine into the IV bag attached to his small arm, and covers him gently.

In the next bed lies three-month-old Rana, who is recovering from her third open heart surgery, which she underwent two days earlier. On the left is Yazen, a month old, who had a catheterization.

Dr. Evyatar Hubara, 43, a senior doctor on the unit, moves from bed to bed. He slept three hours the night before due to the number of cases.

"The three children from Gaza suffer from complicated heart defects," Hubara explains. "They came to us in serious condition, among other reasons because it took time from when the problem was diagnosed in Gaza until their transfer to us could be coordinated, all the permits received, and that's without changing ambulances at Erez and the bumpy journey. Right now, all three are in an acute stage. We still haven't gotten to the rehabilitation state, which will begin here and continue in Gaza," he says.

Hubara stops by Abdullah's bed and looks at him warmly. "Abdullah was born prematurely and was incorrectly diagnosed in Gaza. The doctors … performed the wrong operation on him when he was two months old. A week after the operation, he began to decline, and a week after that he reached us. In the first few hours we needed to stabilize him and keep his blood pressure steady with medication.

"We started to look into the problem. We did an MRI and other tests. Before every stage, we explained to his mother what we were going to do. She trusted us from the beginning. After we stabilized him, we found that the true defect he was suffering from was an aortic valve stenosis. It turned out that in Gaza they had tried to close the ductus, but closed one of the main arteries by mistake.

"In the insane Israeli reality, we had to protect ourselves against rockets from Gaza along with the babies who come from here," he says.

"I remember one siren that caught me on the unit, before we moved to the parking structure. All the mothers, Jewish and Arab, just grabbed their babies – the ones that weren't hooked up to machines – and ran to a safe space. I shouted, 'We have time, 90 seconds, go slowly so you won't fall with the kids.' Everyone gathered around in the safe space. Staff members and patients, Jews and Arabs together. The shocking sight of the mothers who ran there with their babies doesn't leave me," Hubara recalls. Not all the mothers were able to take their babies to a safe space. Abdullah, Rana, and Yazen, as well as another 12 Israeli babies, are on respiratory equipment, and they were unprotected during the first rocket alerts. This is why the hospital administration decided to move the entire department from the sixth floor to the underground parking garage. Here, the sirens can't even be heard.

We go with Lama, Raida, and Samira into the staff room, located at the exit. The room has a big refrigerator full of popsicles donated to the children and the staff who care for them. Every few minutes, a parent or a staff member comes in and takes one.

About a year ago, when the COVID pandemic was still raging in Israel, a COVID unit opened in this same parking structure to ease the mass of patients that was overwhelming the hospitals. That event seems like ancient history, and the only thing that remains of it are the letters of thanks stuck to the door. It seems as if this is the last place in the country where people are careful to wear masks, and wear them properly.

The three Gaza women are embarrassed. They aren't used to being interviewed. All three are wearing abayas, long dresses that include head coverings, as well as hijabs and surgical masks. Since they arrived in Israel, they have been sleeping here, on the unit, in the recliner chairs next to their children's beds. They are also given meals. Once every few days, they allow themselves to go upstairs and shower. None of them speaks any language other than Arabic, with the exception of a few words of Hebrew or English. Moshe Ravid, 26, a nursing student from Jaffa and a volunteer with the Shevet Achim organization, translates.

Raida (Umm Ahmad), 48, is from Khan Younis. She is Rana's grandmother, a housewife and mother of six.

"My daughter-in-law, Rana's mother, came to Israel with her in February, two weeks after she was born," she says. "After two weeks, she was tired and not feeling well. Because she has a four-year-old at home, she called me and asked me to switch with her. She went back to Gaza, and since then, I've been here. Three months already. This is my first time in Israel."

Q: Were you afraid?

"No, why should I be afraid? My husband worked in Bat Yam for 20 years. Every day, he went from Gaza to Bat Yam, until the disengagement in 2005. After that, he found work in Gaza. He told me that there are good people in Israel, that everyone here is all right."

Abdullah's mother Lama, 36, is wearing a brown abaya accessorized with a shining silver star. Her smartphone has a pink cover. She works in a laboratory, and her husband is a producer for Palestinian television in Gaza. She has two other sons, 11 and six, at home, as well as a three-and-a-half-year-old daughter.

"My mother had cancer. She went to Israel to be treated, and recovered," Lama says. "She told me that everything is good here. When Abdullah's condition got worse, the doctor recommended that we come to Israel. My husband reached out to Shevet Achim. Now he and my mother are watching the three other kids at home."

Q: What do you tell your families about what is happening here?

Lama: "They're afraid for us, and we're afraid for them. When they call to hear how we are, I answer, 'Al Hamdullah,' so they won't be scared and worry, and when I call to ask how they are, they say the same thing. We talk about the boy, how he ate, how much he ate, how much he slept. "I tell them that the doctors here are good, that they treat us well, answer all our questions. I tell them that the food is excellent, that the women have nice clothes, about their hairstyles. I like the fashion in Israel, and the grilled chicken breast and salad they serve at the hospital."

Raida: "The medical staff thinks only about the children – whether their condition has improved, what they ate, how they slept. We sit next to their beds, don't know how they'll be from one moment to the next, whether they'll get better at all."

Q: Do they send you pictures of the strikes on Gaza?

"They send me pictures of the special Ramadan sweets," Raida answers, with a smile.

Samira, 62, is the grandmother of Yazen, who is only a month old. "I have nine grown children, and my son has four children other than Yazen. Their mother needs to take care of them, so they asked me to accompany the child. At home, when we talk about Israel, we only talk about the medical treatment we want to get here."

Moshe, the translator, tells them in Arabic not to be frightened, that they can speak freely. They all answer at once: "We aren't afraid, we're speaking honestly. Everyone wants peace. We want it to be all right."

Samira: "Inshallah, things will calm down. We aren't dealing with politics."

Q: What did you do when people in Gaza fired rockets toward this area?

Raida: "What everyone else did. The nurses took us to a safe place. The babies stayed on the unit, hooked up to respirators. I was worried about them, that they were alone, but everyone calmed us down, said that it would all be fine."

Lama: "We tried to talk to the other people in the safe area, without understanding one another. Everyone wants to know how the other's child is doing. He's sorry about my son, and I'm sorry about his."

Q: Did your families leave their homes because of the airstrikes?

Raida: "No. Everyone is in his own home."

Q: Are any of your family members involved in the fighting?

All three shake their heads, no. "Not everyone in Gaza enlists in the army," Raida says. "My husband worked in Israel. Half of Gaza used to work in Israel. You must have seen the workers who would come from Gaza."

Samira: "My father and my husband used to work in Israel."

Q: When are you going home?

Raida's eyes fill with tears. "Rana's chest is still open from the last surgery. I'm sitting with you and laughing, but my heart is crying. So I'm telling you that my every thought is for the baby. That's our situation."

Lama: "Today, Dr. Evytar said that Abdullah has an infection in his right lung, which was good. Until now he had one in his left lung. I hope it works out. I'll go back to Gaza when he gets better, but I don't know when."

Hospital Director Dr. Itai Pessach says that every year, the center treats about 500 children from Gaza and another 2,700 children from the Palestinian Authority. "They range in age from a week to 18. Some of the children arrive through the Shevet Achim organization, and others through our own coordinator."

"During the last military operation, our doctor colleagues in Gaza reached out to us about children in serious condition, and we fought to bring them to Israel during the operation. Unfortunately, we didn't succeed, and that's very sad. I'm happy we're getting back to normal," Pessach says.

According to Pessach, "we don't see any difference between a child who comes from Gaza, Nablus, or Tiberias. Our treatment looks at all the child's needs, including emotional needs and school work at the school that operates on the hospital grounds. A year ago, a nine-year-old boy with cancer arrived from Gaza who didn't know how to read and write. He returned to Gaza last month, after a year-long hospitalization, healthy and knowing how to read and write in Hebrew, Arabic, and even English."

Q: How did the patients respond to this during the Gaza fighting?

"A family from Gaza arrived two days before the operation started, and we diagnosed their son with a rare disease, one that only seven children in Israel have. By chance, two rooms away there was a Haredi family with a child who had been diagnosed with the same disease two months ago. While the rockets were falling, the Haredi mother insisted on meeting the mother from Gaza and teaching her everything she knew about the disease and how to treat it."

"There is a truly shared fate here. They feel that they're fighting against something bigger than rockets. To get better, a patient needs to feel secure, and that's what we're doing. A hospital is a home for all the patients.

"I'm happy to say that the external tensions didn't creep into the work. There was no tension between the staff and the patients. The good of the patient always comes before everything else. Even at administration meetings – everyone put aside their own political views and we managed to provide a quality medical response and protect the safety of the staff and patients," Pessach says.

The funding for the Gaza children's treatment comes mainly from donors – mostly American Christians, and some Israelis.

"Saving the life of the child is an entire world," says Jonathan Miles, founder of Shevet Achim. Miles arrive in Israel from the US in the 1990s, as a journalist, and started to volunteer with the group Christian Friends of Israel.

"We welcomed Russian immigrants to Israel. We wanted them to understand that the Jewish people have friends in the world. One day a mother from Ukraine whose child's life was in danger came to me. She had no money for medical treatment, and she begged me to help. I started raising money to help him. Wizo helped a lot, as did other people, both Jews and Christians.

"After that, I heard about sick babies in Gaza, and in 1994 I founded the organization. We bring children from Muslim states to Israel for treatment."

Amar Shami, 32, who coordinates the transfer of children from Gaza to Israel for Shevet Achim, lives in Jerusalem.

"The families who go back to Gaza tell each other about the treatment in Israel," he says. "One mother tells another. When the child has a problem, they reach out to me. Sometimes the doctors reach out directly." Q: What goes through your mind while you're busy providing treatment and rockets are flying outside?

"Inside the hospital, we detach. We only want to help them. When you go out you realize that reality is different. We hope that when the families from Gaza go home, they will sort of be our emissaries, say good things about Israel."

The night that the ceasefire between Israel and Hamas took effect, Rana's heart stopped beating, despite the doctors' best efforts. Her grandmother, Raida, left the hospital weeping. She was driven to a Shevet Achim apartment in Jaffa. When Erez crossing opened, she returned to Gaza with Rana's coffin.

#Israel #Gaza #Israeli Hospitals

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liannyeong · 4 years

Text

Things just work out (in the end)

Summary: Two close friends who decided to marry each other if they’re still single at the age of 30. What can happen, right?

Word count: 3181

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): Fluff, Just a pinch of angst

A/N: Yay a new fic! And finally, I have gotten used to spelling Jaebeom’s name correctly. This idea is totally cliche lol but well, I just had to write it when ideas started popping in my head. Originally, I had other plans for this plot but I decided to condense it into just a short fic lol. I actually aimed for a 2k word count but well, I always end up writing more whoops ~

Long-time friends, that's what they really are, Not the best of friends but they're close enough to lean on each other and share about their problems. For example, failed relationships. None of their relationships ever last a year. Their friends wonder why, but not even they know the answer to the problem. In the end, they're labelled as the curse in any romantic relationship.

"You know," Jaebeom starts, after a night out with their mutual friends. He had just dropped off their friends who lived along the way, and is now left with her as always. They live the closest to each other anyway. "I'd say we should make a deal."

"A deal?" she echoes.

"Yeah. Let's get married if we're both single by the age of 30."

She snorts. "That's 5 years from now!"

Jaebeom shrugs. "Anything can happen in 5 years."

She keeps quiet, thinking it over before she speaks. "And if we're still single?"

"We marry," Jaebeom says so offhandedly, as if it's nothing serious.

She has a brow raised. "Just like that?"

"Yeah, why not?" Jaebeom retorts. "Nobody seems to want us. And even if they do, it never last more than a year. So why not we skip the basics and get married?"

She bursts out laughing. "You're mad," she says disapprovingly.

"Well, just think about it," Jaebeom insists. "I don't think we've got anything to lose. After all, how bad can it be if there are two 'cursed ones' in a relationship?"

---

ii.

Surprisingly, she agrees. In the year they both turn 30, they hold a small wedding. Then, she moves into Jaebeom's apartment because it is larger. As the months go on, nothing seems to change -- only that Jaebeom has become more gentlemanly towards her. Perhaps being married to someone, having another person to take care of has made him kinder, she doesn't really know. What she knows is that she doesn't hate it. It actually feels nice to have someone to be with at the end of the day. Jaebeom has been a spectacular husband: he listens to her rants about anything, helps her cook dinner. It has been really great.

But sometimes, she can't tell the difference between Jaebeom being chivalrous or... well... having feelings for her? It sounds as if she's too full of herself to think about it, but how can she not when he does things that are questionable?

For example, in one breezy day, Jaebeom took off his jacket just to tie it around her waist when she was wearing a dress that touched just above her knee.

"In case there are any perverts lurking around," he had said dismissively.

Or the few times when he noticed her shivering from the coldness of the air. Be it the air-conditioner of their car or the chilly air anywhere else, Jaebeom would drape his jacket over her body silently, and focus back on whatever he was doing.

Or that one time when they were stranded in the rain with no umbrella. The man threw his precious leather jacket over their heads, then pulled her by the waist with one hand as he led them across the street.

It doesn't seem anything, really. But that last incident is the last straw. Jaebeom has never held her without her permission. He has always made sure not to do anything physical to her, if she doesn't consent to it. The other part of her mind argues that it was just a one-time thing. She can't really comment much on it, can she?

The easiest way to figure this out is to ask him directly. But god, wouldn't it make her look like fool? Imagine Jaebeom saying that "No, I don't have feelings for you. What made you even think that?" Or "We married because of our promise, nothing else." Ugh, this seems like an unnecessary stress on her mind.

One thing's for sure though: even if Jaebeom doesn't harbour any feelings for her, the things he do certainly has an effect on her... She wonders what kind of feeling this is...

---

iii.

Jaebeom is an aspiring singer-songwriter. He has put his works out there to the world through his Soundcloud, which landed him a stable job at a local music company. She knows he's well-known in the music industry -- he's always got big projects to do, producing songs for popular idol groups out there. It's fascinating. Having known him for years, seeing him slowly gaining the recognition he deserves makes her happy.

But with bigger projects to tackle, that means longer working hours. And he will certainly bring his work home. It's frequent that Yugyeom, Jaebeom's partner, comes over to their shared apartment to continue with their projects. Usually, she would hear the same damn beat played a million times across the house. Today, it's more quiet. Perhaps, they're sourcing for inspiration? she wonders to herself. Well, it's not as if she minds the quiet ambience.

She heads to Jaebeom's room-slash-studio to call him for dinner but as she raises her hand to knock, she hears Yugyeom saying, "Hyung, you should tell her you like her--"

She freezes.

"Shut the hell up, Yugyeom. These walls are thin!" Jaebeom hisses.

"But hyung--"

"Drop it, Gyeom-ah. We're not talking about this now," Jaebeom cuts.

Her mind reeling. Jaebeom has someone he likes...? What...?

She totally misses out the footsteps on the other side, until the door swings open suddenly. She jolts in surprise, her hand still raised up.

Jaebeom is looking at her, wide-eyed, as if caught doing a heinous act.

"How long have you been standing here?" he asks after clearing his throat and his face from any expression.

"Just. I was about to knock your door but you opened it," she lies smoothly. "Dinner's ready."

"Great! I'm hungry!" Yugyeom exclaims as he jumps out of his seat and brushes past the two of them like an excited puppy. He heads to the kitchen by himself, leaving the married couple in the hallway.

Jaebeom's voice is soft and cautious as he asks, "Did you hear anything?"

She blinks up at him, trying her best to put on a blank expression. "No? Was I supposed to hear something?"

Jaebeom actually flushes. "N-no. It's great you didn't hear anything," he mumbles.

She nods, eyeing the man. "Let's eat."

---

iv.

Jaebeom always lets her listen to his finished work before its official release to the public. One particular song is about wanting to get closer to another, but they can't because of certain circumstances. Another is about loving a person from afar. It bears a resemblance to Jaebeom's situation, if her thoughts are correct. And her curiosity only gets bigger.

"Your songs... It sounds real," she tries to start the topic in mind. "Do you... possibly... have feelings for someone?"

Jaebeom swivels his chair to look at her in surprise. He looks caught.

She lets out a gasp. She sputters, "You-- Wait, who is she-- Oh, wait, no--" She halts herself when her mind clicks. "Why did you agree to this marriage thing if you have someone you like?! Oh god-- What have I done??" she panics.

"Hey, relax," Jaebeom's calm voice cuts her panic. "It's nothing, don't worry."

"Don't worry?!" she repeats in anger. "How can I not worry?! You're-- Oh god, you could have been with the person you like right now, if not for this--" she gestures the space between them, "thing between us!" She buries her face into her hands, mumbling to herself, "What have I done..."

Jaebeom crouches before her, hands closing around her wrists delicately to pull them away from her face. He brushes her cheek with a knuckle, smiling softly. "It's fine, really. It's no big deal."

"How are you so calm about this?"

"It's because I don't regret anything."

"You don't regret anything?" she echoes his words. "Not even this marriage agreement between us?"

Jaebeom's smile falls just a little. There's a certain warmth in his gaze, a gentle expression on his face. It's one that she has never seen before. Well, not directed to her at the very least. "I don't."

"Why?"

"Because," he starts slowly, "you have been a great partner so far. I don't have any complaints about you."

She frowns, feeling that something is amiss. "There's something you're not telling me."

Jaebeom blinks. Then his shoulders slump. He settles on the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of her.

"You're right. There is something I haven't told you," he admits. He lets out a sigh. "But how can I, when I might risk losing everything I have?"

"What's going on--"

Jaebeom looks at her dead in the eye.

"I like you," he confesses.

She draws a deep breath.

"I don't know when it began. But after the wedding, after a few months into this marriage arrangement, I guess I developed a soft spot for you. Which gradually became real feelings. Perhaps the feelings have always been there, I don't know, but I only realized it through this marriage."

"I--" she gapes her mouth like a fish. "I thought you-- I thought you like someone else!"

Jaebeom shakes his head. "I don't. I like you."

She gasps.

"I--" Jaebeom reaches forward but she immediately rises, backing away. The man looks hurt but she can't wrap her mind around this new revelation.

"I'm sorry I need time to process this," she says hastily before striding out of his room.

---

Jaebeom seems to understand her position, so he minimizes any interaction or encounter between them. After all, she's still a little confused. It's not easy to accept the fact that Jaebeom has fallen for her when all they've ever been was close friends. Sure, she may have liked the chivalrous way Jaebeom treated her, but she doesn't think it's any indicator that she may harbour the same feelings toward her.

Anyway, Jaebeom doesn't been home for days. She doesn't even know how he's been. Is he eating alright? Is he stressed? Is he okay? She knows it's her fault -- it was her reaction to his confession that made them like this. Still, she can't help the uneasiness in her heart when Jaebeom disappears for days.

So when the man comes home in the wee hours of the night, she feels her heart pound. He looks so tired, so ragged, like a homeless person. He looks like his life got sucked out of his body.

"Jaebeom--" she calls softly.

He slowly turns, his eyes are heavy, dark circles and eye bags underneath. "Did I wake you? Sorry about that... Well, good night." He drags himself into his room and the door clicks shut.

She stands alone in the doorway of her own room. He looks horrible... She wonders if she could cheer him up. She realizes she actually misses his company. The way he would always be there for her at the end of a long day. The way he would listen to her attentively as she rants her heart out. When has she ever done the same for him? She reckons she has never.

With new determination, she pads over to his room silently, then sneaks in. Jaebeom is already fast asleep, not having changed out of his clothes. He's sprawled out on the bed, and she slowly makes her way to him. The bed dips under her weight, then she rests her head on his arm, snuggling close to him.

"Wha--?" he mumbles groggily, looking over at her.

She only shushes him, curling an arm around his waist as she joins him to sleep.

---

vi.

When she wakes, Jaebeom is still passed out. But his body is turned towards her, his breathing soft and slow. She's still got her head pillowed on his arm. Her eyes wander his face, from the two brows to the twin moles above his left eye, down to the two closed slits and to his round nose, until--

His lips, crafted perfectly like a cupid's bow. The soft pinkish color. She wonders what it feels like to kiss him.

Wait.

What?

K-kiss Jaebeom?

She jolts up, suddenly very awake. She glances back at Jaebeom and her eyes automatically lands on his lips again. Her heart pounds in her ears. Oh my god.

She stomps out, into the safe haven of her own room, her heart beating fast.

No way.

Does she actually like Jaebeom???

---

vii.

Things are still awkward between the two of them. She doesn't mention about the night she slept over at his room. Neither did Jaebeom. It's probably best to leave it for now. She wouldn't know how to face him when she's been having weird feelings since then.

Speaking of which, her mind is plagued with thoughts of Jaebeom and her newfound feelings. She has been trying to rationalize her emotions, but now, she wonders if she's in denial.

What's so bad about liking Jaebeom, anyway? she ponders. He has been a great husband. Hell, she hasn't felt this comfortable with any man before! Comparing to all the boys she has ever dated, she must admit that Jaebeom is the best among them. But wait, Jaebeom and her are not considered as dating, right? If Jaebeom is already this good, what more a real dating relationship? Or even better, a real marriage?

She blushes furiously, raising a hand to cover her face. At the same time, she accidentally knocks over a hot pot, letting out a yelp of pain. The first thing her body does is to put her hand under the running tap water. As she lets the burn cool, she looks over at the kitchen floor. The contents of the pot have spilled all over the tiled floor. She sighs. She shouldn't be this distracted while cooking.

The man who plagued her thoughts emerges from his room haphazardly, his face painted with worry. He glances over the floor before going back to her, especially on her hand.

"I'll grab the first aid kit," Jaebeom says. He comes back, calling her over with a hand held out for her to grab. He then leads her to the couch in the living room, sitting her down and opening the kit. He takes the seat next to her, their knees knocking.

Jaebeom helps to apply a burn cream onto her hand. She will never admit this, but his touch is more scalding than the heat of the pot. She flushes.

"What happened?" he asks gently as he rolls a bandage around her hand.

"I just--" She makes the mistake of looking up. She realizes how close they are. Jaebeom's face is just a few inches away. She can hear his soft breathing. She can even count his lashes. Embarrassed, she averts her eyes, mumbling, "I got distracted, that's all."

"You should be more careful," Jaebeom says, closing the kit and putting it away afterwards. "Just rest, okay? I'll clean the kitchen. We can just order in today."

She nods. Jaebeom heads to the kitchen and starts to clear the spill on the floor. She watches as he picks the soggy vegetables and dispose it into the bin. She slumps in her seat. All she wanted was to cook a simple soup for dinner. Now, Jaebeom who is busy has to clean the mess she made. She feels sorry.

So she turns on her phone and places an order on Jaebeom's favorite from his favorite restaurant.

---

viii.

After coming to terms with her own self, she decides that it's time for them to settle this awkwardness between them.

She knocks onto Jaebeom's door and the man lets her in. He looks a little worried, a little uncertain about what's happening.

"It's about us," she begins once she settled comfortably on his bed.

"Oh," he lets out.

"Look, I-- Um--" she stutters. She breathes out then starts again, "When you confessed to me, I just... I didn't know what to make sense of it. So I'm sorry with how I behaved afterwards. I just didn't know how to deal with it."

"It's fine, I understand," Jaebeom says softly.

"But I just can't stop thinking about it," she adds.

Jaebeom leans forward now, quick to assure her. "Hey, look... If you're uncomfortable living with me, I can move out. We can just sign the divorce papers. It's not a big deal."

She shakes her head. "It is a big deal--! I just--"

The man smiles weakly. "You don't have to force yourself to live with me. I'm not hurt if you don't return my feelings. I understand really. I have made you uncomfortable--"

"No, Jaebeom!!" she nearly shrieks. "What I mean to say is-- I think I-- I think I like you too..." Heat rises in her cheeks and she knows without doubt that her face is as red as a tomato.

Jaebeom stares blankly at her, stupefied.

"I've been thinking a lot about it," she continues. "Back then, I thought... It isn't a bad idea to marry you. But now..." Embarrassed, she's staring at her lap, afraid to look at Jaebeom's face. "I want you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you," she confesses.

Jaebeom moves forward, kneeling on the floor, a hand gently cupping her left cheek.

"Do you really mean that?"

She nods, blushing.

Jaebeom smiles, his eyes forming crescents. "Spending my life with you, I'd love that."

She looks at him, face gleaming with happiness. Her eyes accidentally look down to his lips and she turns redder. She looks away quickly, abashed.

Jaebeom must have noticed this as he follows her face, peering at her. His hand is still pressed against her cheek. "Can I kiss you?" he asks softly.

She gulps. What does it feel like? her mind wonders. She tilts her chin up, a silent agreement. She watches as Jaebeom moves closer and shuts her eyes when he's just a breath away. Their lips gently brush against each other, and it already feels otherworldly. The moment their lips connect... God, it feels so good. She feels how plump and soft his lips are. And god, the way he rolls his lips against hers... It's electric.

She swears that is the best kiss she has ever had. Reluctantly, they pull apart for air, both their chests heaving. Jaebeom doesn't move away though, he presses their foreheads together. Her eyes feel heavy as she opens them. Jaebeom is already staring back, as if he couldn't believe that they kissed.

"Is this real?" he whispers.

"Yes, it is," she answers before lunging forward. Jaebeom topples backwards, his head hitting the floor with a thud. She worries, but the man laughs it off, giddy with happiness, so she can't help but smile along. She leans down, pressing a quick kiss onto his lips. Jaebeom stares up at her fondly, tucking her hair behind her ear. That hand cups her neck, and he directs her for another kiss. His other arm tightens around her waist, pinning her close. They kiss like teenagers, when chemicals are high.

#im jaebeom #im jaebeom scenarios #got7 #got7 im jaebeom scenarios #jaebeom scenarios #got7 im jaebeom #got7 jaebeom #jaebeom #got7 scenarios #got7 jaebeom scenarios

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years

Text

A Very Important Episode starring Hisoka

Or the one where Hisoka learns Bungee Gum is not a food group.

A/N: We all know that Hisoka likes candy and Bungee Gum but we would like to encourage Hisoka to make healthier choices and prevent diabetes complications. There will possibly be a part 2. I hope this is educational.

---

This time Hisoka had actually done it. He’d actually managed to fuck up his entire body beyond what he could repair with Bungee Gum or Machi’s services - which she was charging higher and higher for - and now he was somewhere almost unthinkable - an emergency room.

“Illumi~~~~” he half-sang, half-whined now that he was finally lucid, after undergoing an exploratory laparotomy to stabilize his profuse internal bleeding - the surgeons had been in awe of just how much of his body had been purely synthetic due to Texture Surprise exclaiming that he’d be an incredible case to write up - and being amped up full of pain meds. He probably didn’t need the pain meds, but it was fun to go in and out of consciousness; he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual night of sleep.

His unwilling friend sat at the side of his hospital bed, legs crossed and focusing his jarringly large, black eyes at the fluid and blood that was being transfused into him by IV drip. A small part of him was surprised that Hisoka could be transfused with regular looking blood and regular looking fluid. He was almost sure that he was made up purely of nonsense and Bungee Gum.

“Illumi~” Hisoka moaned dramatically a second time. His gaze slid now to him, with lips pressed into a flat line of distaste.

“Don’t ever use my name as your emergency contact again.”

Illumi had to hide the fact that he was impressed Hisoka could spell clearly enough to make out the letters of his name and had actually retained his phone number. He had been surprised to get a call, but made his way over as soon as he had finished gutting an enemy and stringing them up for display as requested in his latest contract. The idea of Hisoka being dead was incredibly alarming, for he did enjoy his health and company, but also sparked a morbid curiosity in him. Could Hisoka actually die?

“But you came, didn’t you?” Hisoka teased, with a shit-eating grin.

He had him there.

There was a soft knocking on the door, and a young woman in a white coat, followed by a taller man wearing a pair of scrubs came in. The young woman glanced at Hisoka and then Illumi, visibly wincing at the hard stare of the latter in the semi-dark room, then raised her badge to introduce herself.

“H-hello, I’m Dr. Rhgyl, I-” her eyes flickered to Illumi briefly, unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t yet blinked in the past two minutes, then shifted back to Hisoka, whose devilish smile was almost more unsettling. “I was one of your surgeons and am here to answer any questions you have.”

She turned to Illumi, and gave a nervous nod of the head. “And who is in the room with you, Mr. Morow?”

“My husband,” he said, in a sickly-sweet voice. Illumi gave him a glare, then crossed his arms.

“Sure,” was all he said.

Sure, what? What is sure? Just answer the damn question... The poor young doctor’s face fell as she already knew this was something she’d have to spend unnecessary minutes during her already excessively long call night clarifying in her documentation. She turned to her nurse behind her, who gave her a small shrug.

“So uh, Mr. Morow, how is your pain?”

“It’s wonderful!”

The doctor again tried to conceal her internal screaming, and continued to keep her professional smile plastered on her face. “In that case, please let us know if you have any more pain, and your nurse will take care of it.”

“We do have one other issue, however, “ she added, making sure to communicate this next part as clearly and effectively as possible. Hisoka perked up in surprise, and Illumi continued to sit perfectly still, as still as a statue. “Your blood sugar. Your blood sugar was extremely elevated, and we were concerned about a diagnosis of prediabetes or diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“We expect you to make a fast recovery… surprisingly fast in fact, but we would still like you to follow up with a primary care doctor about your blood sugar. We’ll draw a lab test to check how your sugars were for the past 3 months, called a Hemoglobin A1c test, and then we’ll have your primary care doctor follow up the results and help you with strategies to have better control.”

Illumi turned to Hisoka, who he could tell that whatever the medical team was telling him was going in one ear and out the other, and he was now only thinking about either his next fight or Bungee Gum based on the elated smile on his face.

Bungee Gum.

Bungee Gum was the fucking problem.

As the doctor and the nurse finally exited out of the room and Hisoka went back to telling Illumi battle stories, Illumi started to clear his schedule in his head, to figure out when he could best drag Hisoka to his follow-up appointments, which he would have to make for him. Someone had to be the adult in this relationship.

---

Hisoka’s new primary care doctor, another similarly young woman, but less easily intimidated as the tired one from the hospital sat at a computer, pulling up his chart to review his lab results from his hospitalization.

Illumi and Hisoka noticed how she visibly paled as she scrolled, then turned to Hisoka and gave him a reassuring smile, that looked to reassure her more than them.

“What is it? Am I dead?” Hisoka asked. Illumi gave him a look to quiet down.

“Well, you’re diabetic, all right... Your A1c is 14%.”

“Is that bad?”

She swiveled in her chair to face him, hands in her lap.

“Well, diabetes is diagnosed at an A1c of 7%. So... unfortunately, yes.”

Hisoka started counting on his fingers and Illumi forcefully put his hand down.

“Hisoka, listen to the doctor. Diabetes is serious. My great-grandaunt was diabetic.” Illumi said in an even, impassive voice.

“Oh, how old was she when she was diagnosed?” The doctor asked, attempting to build rapport with the patient and the patient’s loved ones.

Without skipping a beat, he replied, “206, exactly. She loved nothing more than to unwind with Mountain Dew after her assassination missions. She ended up on dialysis.”

The doctor seemed to be at a loss of words briefly, so she turned back to Hisoka, pulling out a pen and a notepad to focus on rather than lose her cool.

“So, uh… let’s start by talking a little about what you usually eat,” she began. “What do you eat in a typical day?”

“Hm... “ Hisoka didn’t usually keep track of what he ate, so it took him some time to come up with an account. “Ah! Okay, so in the morning, I usually skip breakfast, but sometimes I’ll have some Bungee Gum.”

Odd choice, the physician thought, but she nodded and wrote that down, allowing the floor to Hisoka to speak.

“For lunch, I try not to eat too much, but I also have a couple pieces or ten of Bungee Gum.”

Hm…

“Oh and for dinner, I have a bowl of gummy candy if I’m feeling particularly peckish and also Bungee Gum.”

She looked up from her pad and paper to see Hisoka looking blissfully unaware that he had just revealed that he subsists solely on sweets. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull at her hair repeatedly. This would be a ton of education, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what exactly Bungee Gum was.

---

Illumi parked his custom Ferrari minivan, purchased entirely for this shopping trip, outside the Costco Wholesale, and gave Hisoka, a long, hard look.

“Do you have the list?” Illumi asked, hand outstretched as Hisoka handed over a partially crumpled sheet of paper, outlining the basics of a balanced, carbohydrate-controlled diet for people with diabetes.

Hisoka looked outside to the large building, then looked back at Illumi. “Isn’t this for families? I thought we were shopping for me only, and sometimes you when you come over.”

“I don’t know, the butlers told me that they come here to stock the kitchens. It seems from the website that this store provides high quality bulk goods for very competitive prices so this will be an appropriate next stop.”

This was just one out of countless stops today - Hisoka had spent the earlier part of the day searching frantically for sugar-free Bungee Gum in every supermarket in a 25-mile radius unsuccessfully, and demanding to see the manager every time, only to kill them when they told him they didn’t have his particular brand. Illumi warned him that there would be no such shenanigans any longer.

They stepped out of the car and walked right past the door greeter who was waiting eagerly for them to present their membership card only to recoil once they both turned to look at him in unison with intent to kill.

The first things Hisoka noticed as he walked in were the multiple little free sample kiosks at the aisles every so often and curiously wandered over to them.

“Make sure to avoid anything glazed or with a sauce,” Illumi called after him, poring through the list as he wandered over to the produce aisle. He didn’t understand the draw of free samples; if he wanted to try something, he would simply buy it.

Hisoka made his way to Illumi and Illumi’s overfilled grocery cart about a half-hour later after wandering the entire store, arms filled with small paper cups and tasting spoons. It was clear that he had sampled literally everything, possibly twice or thrice. Illumi let out a sigh and moved to the front of the store to check out.

Keeping Hisoka’s blood sugar low would be a daunting task, but he was determined that by the next visit to his PCP, he’d have some improvement in his A1c. Texture Surprise can only replace so many amputated limbs at once. He’d just have to buy every supermarket’s supply of Bungee Gum and possibly halt every single production chain devoted to it or something similar. A pain, but it was worth it. Hisoka was annoying as all hell, but still, he was worth it.

#hisoillu #hisoka #illumi #bungee gum #hunter x hunter #serious business #serious writing #crack fic?#remember to eat a balanced diet

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maraudererasmut · 4 years

Text

Black and White (Part XIX)

((Author’s Note: I AM SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG!! I hope the chapter makes up for the fact that it took such a long time to write/post it! I hope you guys like it!!))

Remus walked into Black and White carrying two coffee cups from work, his knuckles turning white from the tightness of his grip. He was terrified, to say the least. This would be his first time seeing Sirius since their evening at the cafe, and Remus wasn't entirely sure if his presence was desired.

"Uh… Sirius? M— Mr. Black? Are… are you here?"

Of course he was there. Sirius ran the gallery himself. If he wasn't there, the door wouldn't be unlocked. Remus felt stupid asking his question aloud, but the response he got put him at ease.

"Yeah, I'm here, Remus. I'll be right out."

Remus.

So they were still on a first name basis. That was a good sign.

It took a moment, but Sirius eventually emerged from his back office, looking rather worse for wear. His hair was left loose around his shoulders, dark inky tresses spilling over his unbuttoned collar. He looked tired; more tired than Remus felt. More tired than he had ever looked before.

"I… uh… I brought coffee…"

"What are you doing here, Remus?"

The tone of Sirius' voice didn't sound harsh or accusatory; it was filled with exhaustion and melancholy, but it wasn't rude, which was a surprise.

"Oh…" Remus glanced down at the paper cups in his hands, as if his reason for being at the gallery was obvious. "I… brought coffee," he repeated. "Cappuccino, skim milk, sprinkle of cinnamon?"

Remus watched as a slow smile bloomed across Sirius' face, lighting him up, finally revealing a hint of the gallery owner that Remus had come to know the past few weeks. Sirius walked towards Remus, straightening his posture and brushing hair out of his eyes.

"How'd you know?"

Remus shrugged, offering Sirius a friendly grin.

"A little birdy told me."

Sirius rolled his eyes and graciously accepted Remus' peace offering. The artist watched as Sirius' shoulders visibly relaxed with the first sip of coffee, a hint of colour returning to his sallow cheeks. Sirius turned his gaze towards a painting on the wall, both hands grasping the cup, as if to absorb its warmth and energy.

"Well… remind me to thank her later."

"I'm fairly certain I brought the coffee here," Remus said, mostly joking. He took a sip from his own cup of tea, letting the spicy warmth from the chai trickle down and heat him up from the inside.

Sirius remained focused on the painting before him.

"Thank you, Remus. Not… not just for the coffee… but for coming. Here. I… appreciate it."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sirius Black?" Remus teased, attempting to lighten the sudden weight of the situation, trying to deter the looming darkness that threatened its way into their thoughts.

Sirius didn't answer for a moment. He stood and stared at the painting, one of Lily's pieces by the looks of it, before finally giving Remus a response.

"This… this is the real Sirius Black."

Remus tore his eyes away from mercurial pools of despair, so deep and turbulent, the artist could drown in them if he wasn't careful. He directed his attention to the same painting, the same blues and greys of Sirius' eyes popping out from the canvas.

"Well…" Remus muttered to the painting, twisting his cup around between his fingers. "Hello Sirius Black. I'm— I'm Remus Lupin."

Remus heard a sharp exhale of breath beside him— almost a laugh, but not quite. At least he could help bring some levity into their conversation.

"So…" Sirius began, before taking another sip of coffee. "How much did she tell you?"

Remus pondered the question, trying to find an appropriate way of answering it.

"She… uh… mentioned your brother. And… and you and James. She explained why you left the cafe the other day, why you seemed so upset…"

Sirius closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. When he opened them, there was a hint of pain still etched into his features.

"And where does that leave us?"

Remus turned to look at Sirius, unsure what exactly the man was asking him.

"Wh— what do you mean?"

"Are you… still interested in showing here? Did you still want to… to work with me?"

"Of course." Remus' response was immediate. There was no question in his mind: Black and White was the gallery that Remus wanted his first show to be in. He wanted Sirius to run it, curate it, put the event together. He wanted Lily and James to be there. This was the gallery for him. "Why wouldn't I?"

Sirius' eyes drifted down to his coffee cup, his shoulders folding in on themselves ever so slightly.

"You're not worried that the erratic drunk is going to ruin things for you? Cause you too much trouble?"

"I— what?" Remus took a step towards Sirius; he considered reaching out, taking hold of the man, showing a sign of affection, but he thought better of it. Instead, he simply looked at Sirius, his voice measured, his posture firm. "None of those thoughts ever crossed my mind. I— I want to show here because you're passionate. You have drive. You're confident… you're— you're a good gallerist."

You're annoying as all hell, but you know what you want from life and you aren't afraid to go for it. Someone like me could learn a lot from someone like you. You're fascinating. An enigma. And I need to figure you out…

"And you push me to do better. I'm producing better art now than I ever have before. You have a keen eye and you give good direction."

Remus waited for Sirius to respond, but the man simply stared ahead at the painting before him. The silence loomed over them as Remus watched the ghost of the man he thought he knew slowly fading into nothingness.

It was a few minutes before Sirius eventually spoke, his voice echoing eerily across the empty gallery.

"You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better."

His words were soaked in bitterness, his expression crestfallen. He never once tore his gaze away from the painting.

Remus took a gulp of tea, weighing his next words very carefully.

"I don't lie." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "You don't know me very well yet, but that's something you should remember for the future. I don't lie." Another pause, another sip of tea. "I had enough of that growing up, I don't need it in my life."

The slightest hint of a smile passed over Sirius' face.

"You also had a shitty family?

"I'm an artist," Remus mused with a dark chuckle, "Do you know any that don't?"

Sirius' smile grew as he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, one or two. But you make a valid point."

Remus brought his cup to his lips and tilted it back, draining the remaining contents and deliberating his words.

"So…" he began after a moment. "Where do we go from here?"

For the first time since the conversation started, Sirius shifted his focus, his eyes settling on Remus' frame silhouetted in the fading evening light.

"Where do you want it to go?"

Remus closed his eyes and pretended to take a sip from his drink, despite the fact that it was now empty. He needed time to think. Was Sirius talking about the gallery? Was Sirius asking about Remus' desire to show his art and work together in a professional setting? Or did the question go deeper than that?

Where did Remus want things to go?

"I…" Remus opened his eyes. He stared at Lily's painting, pretending not to see the way Sirius' gaze bore into him, pretending not to think about the swirling blues and greys, the perfection of colour, they way they shifted with each emotion. "I want to make sure that our show next month is your best one yet."

"Well then…" Sirius said softly, his voice relaxing, his tone sounding more and more familiar to Remus. "We'd better get to work. There's only a few weeks left…"

Remus turned to look at Sirius and felt his cheeks flush at the smile playing on the gallery owner's lips. The artist quickly looked down at the paper cup twisting between his fingers, trying not to read into the situation any more than necessary.

"I'd better get home then…" Remus told his cup, trying to keep his voice steady and desperately willing his cheeks to stop feeling so warm. "I still have two more pieces to paint…"

"Yes, well…" Sirius muttered. From the corner of his eye, Remus could see the gallery owner shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I'll be in touch. I'd love to see your progress if— if that's okay…?"

Since when did Sirius ask for things instead of demanding them?

"Sure, yeah… that sounds… good. I'll… see you around, Sirius."

Remus glanced up and smiled, immediately regretting his decision. The look on Sirius' face was tender, affectionate. Somehow, he looked even more handsome like this. Remus hated it.

The artist shoved his hand forward, offering it for a shake. Sirius hesitated before reaching out and grasping Remus' hand firmly. The two men had shaken hands a dozen times at this point; there was something frustratingly different about this one, and it lingered a beat too long.

Remus pulled his hand away and spun on his heels before Sirius could stop him.

"I'll see you around, Sirius!" He called over his shoulder before making a beeline to the door.

"Oh… okay… T— Thank you, Remus. For… for everything!"

Before he knew what was happening, Remus was outside in the crisp autumn air, trying not to think about the way Sirius' perfect lips wrapped so delicately around his name or how badly Remus wanted to find out what those lips tasted like.

What was wrong with him?

((Bonus: Here’s a sketch that I did in a limited palette of this scene. Yes, I know there are inaccuracies, it was a quick sketch and I didn’t read the chapter before drawing it. Oops! Anyway, here it is!))

**THIS DRAWING IS NOT CANON! IT IS DONE BY MARAUDERERASMUT, NOT REMUS!**

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lettingmydreamsspeak · 4 years

Text

The Heart Knows Best: Part III

Summary: They still can’t get each other off their minds. Little do they know that even though distance plays a huge factor in ever knowing one another, something is bringing them together.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: approx. 2300

Author’s Note: If this is your first time reading this series, catch up with Part I and Part II here. Thanks to those who have read the series so far and have sent messages. It is great to hear from those who are reading it. It is my hope to have Part IV up shortly.

************************************************************************

You couldn’t be happier to be home. You already felt like you needed a vacation from your vacation, but the demands of work would quickly occupy your mind. As you turned on your phone upon arriving at the airport terminal, the number on your email app grew. It was your boss inquiring about the timelines for various projects. She must have tracked your flight and knew that once you arrived it would be hard for you to avoid all the emails that she would be sending. Since taking an entry level position as a junior illustrator for an international publishing firm, you had worked your way up the ranks to work directly with the lead art director, as the senior illustrator. Because of your talent and determination, this position allowed for you to gain some of the highest profile accounts that came through the firm, working with some of the most well-known authors. Who knew that all those years of drawing since you were a little girl, would lead to this dream job. Even though the demands of the job could be overwhelming at times, no amount of pressure would take away the love you had for it.

Your brother Ben offered to pick you up from the airport, knowing that you would like to see a familiar face at the other end of customs when you arrived. He wasn’t wrong. The two of you were only two years apart. He was older than you, and as a stereo typical older brother to a sister, he protected you. As you passed through the doors to find what seemed to be a sea of thousands of people, Ben’s smiling face greeted you.

“Welcome home sis!”

Ben gave you the biggest hug, as if he hadn’t seen you for months on end.

“Thank you for coming to get me. I would much rather sit in the front passenger seat and control the music for once!”

You both had a good laugh, because you both knew all too well that you were the one that would control the playlists while on road trips with your family and friends.

As you slowly made your way to Ben’s car, you were a lot more quiet than usual. Ben was used to you talking his ear off, telling him all the stories of your adventures you had while you were away.

“Is everything ok, Y/n?”

You knew that he would ask you that very question and debated on whether you would tell him the truth, or tell him the smallest of lies. You felt compelled to tell him the truth, but it would take some time to get there.

“I’m definitely tired. Do you think that maybe we can go for ice cream? I’m not quite ready to go home and just want to hang out with you Ben.”

“I’ll never say no to ice cream! You must want to talk about something though; we never just go for ice cream. Wait a sec……what is his name and do I need to beat him up?”

Not sure how to respond yet again, you stop and look at him before crawling into the car. Looking at Ben’s stature, with was tall and skinny, you weren’t sure that he had the muscles to withstand a fight with anyone.

“You might not want to pick a fight with him, Ben. And if you really want to know, you already know him. His name is Chris…...”

************************************************************************

Chris laid down on the grass, staring up at the clouds through a clearing the in the trees that towered above him. Dodger ran circles around him, stopping every once in a while to lick his face or nudge him in the arm so that he would play with him. He was grateful for the energy of this dog, keeping him on toes and distracting him from what was really going on in his life. He was avoiding his phone and emails for the rest of the day, knowing that he had some work to do.

“Dodge, what am I supposed to do?”

He stopped making circles around Chris and proceeded to lick his face again. It’s like he knew that Chris needed a little extra love and support that day.

“Alright, that wasn’t really the answer I was looking for, but I appreciate all the love you are giving me today, bud. I need it.”

Chris sat up and pulled Dodger in to give him a hug before getting up to make his way back into the house, where Scott just finished making supper for the two of them.

“Hey Dopey, are you ready to eat something?”

“Yeah.”

Chris quietly took a seat at the kitchen table as Scott dished out some food for him, one scoop at a time, seeing if he would tell him when to stop. Chris sat there just staring at the food piling up, as Scott captured it all on video, figuring that one day Chris will need a good laugh at his own expense.

“Do you know if the kids left any books around here last time they came to visit?”

“I’m pretty sure they did.”

“I need to pick out a children’s book to recommend and I would love it to be one that they like.”

“Why don’t you make it a little more personable and it be one that you always read to them. I’m pretty sure they left the books in your office on the bookshelf, thinking that Uncle Chris might need some easy reading material when they aren’t around. Also, you better eat entire pile of pasta…”

Chris looked down as he dropped his fork on the table, laughing at the sight before him, causing him to shake his head. He picked the fork back up, took a few bites and pushed his plate away.

“Thank you for supper Scott. Just leave the dishes and I will clean them up later.”

“You didn’t even really eat! I’m telling mom!”

“Go ahead!”

Chris left the table on a mission to let his mind escape. He entered his office and b-lined it to the bookshelf that lined the walls across the room from his desk. Starting at the middle of the bookcase, he scoured the shelves for the kids books. He stopped for a moment and realized he was looking in the wrong spot. He turned his eyes downward to the bottom shelf, where the kids could safely reach the shelves. There they were. Nicely placed, looking at if they were meant to be a part of the collection, standing upright thanks to the bookend. Chris sat on the floor against the shelf, looking through the books. There was something about those books that made Chris feel sentimental for a moment. He loved those kids and he loved those books. There was one in particular that stood out to him. It had a picture of a dog on the front that always reminded him of Dodger. The kids loved that book so much because of the dog in the story. You could see the love for that book with the bent corner and chocolate pudding stained pages. This had to be the book that he was going to use for his project.

Scott and Dodger snuck into the office and sat beside Chris, looking through the books with him, noticing the book that was in his hands.

“The kids really do love that book. I should record you reading this book and we should send it to them!”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. They would love it. Funny voices and all.”

Scott pulled out his phone and started to record the video. Sounding very stately as he started reading; he introduced the author of the book, then the illustrator.

“This book is illustrated by Y/N Y/L/N………I love how the dog in this book looks like Dodger!!! Here we go. Once Upon a Time…”

Without even noticing, he had said her name aloud. If only he knew…

************************************************************************

It was time for you to show your face at the office. You figured you could just sneak in without anyone noticing, as you were determined to have a productive day, without any distractions. You felt inspired and ready to create some images for the books that were coming across your desk prior to your vacation. Knowing that it would take a few hours to really get the ideas down on paper, you put your head phones on to help you focus. The hours passed without even taking a break. Your boss scared you out of focus as she reviewed your progress and was pleased with the results so far. She was always amazed with your work and your overall work ethic. As she left you to you continue with your work, you noticed that your phone screen was lighting up. It was best that you took a break for a late lunch and to catch up with the messages that were left for you. For the most part, it was your clients wanting to touch base and see how the illustrations were coming along. There were also a few messages from Haley. She usually sent you random jokes or quotes to help you get through your day, but it seemed as if there was something a little more urgent. 5 missed calls and one text stating that you should call her when you get the chance.

You were feeling a little selfish at that moment, but now was not the time for you to get into a serious conversation with her. You ignored her messages, placed the phone out of sight, and got back to work, knowing that all the drawings wouldn’t finish themselves.

************************************************************************

It was a new day, and it was certainly feeling like it for the first time in a few days. With an early start to the day, Chris was productive on answering a series of emails from producers and his agent. Taking a break from this work, he found a spot in the sun filled living room to do some recreational reading. His brother sat across the room from him, staring at his phone, as if he were in a deep text conversation with who knows who. With a lack of desire to spend his time catching up on social media, little did Chris know that Scott had made a little post that morning, captioning it: “Story Time with Uncle Chris”.

Just as Chris had suspected, Scott was reading through text from friends and a multitude of messages in response to the post. There was so much love for this video, but who wouldn’t fall in love with Chris reading yet another children’s book. Sorting through his direct messages, he saw one titled “I Need Your Help…”. Typically these kinds of messages were from people asking for some kind of hand out to help with their cause and would easily be passed by, but for some reason Scott felt compelled to read this message.

Hey Scott, I know we don’t know each other, but we might have an unexpected connection that I need your help with. My friend Y/n happened to be in Manhattan recently, and was helped out by your brother Chris on a rainy morning in Central Park a couple of days ago. I know she is forever grateful for what your brother did to help out. If you can pass on her thanks to him, I know she would appreciate it.

Thanks so much, Haley.

Ps. You know that book Chris is reading in your most recent post…Y/n illustrated it!

“Shut up.”

“I’m being quiet, why are you telling me to shut up?”

“Sorry! I was just reading texts from friends. I thought I said that in my head.”

In complete shock of the message he just read, Scott started to formulate a reply to Haley. With zero confidence in what to say back to her, his response was short and to the point.

Hi Haley, we should chat…

************************************************************************

“You have reached Haley! Sorry I can’t answer your call right now. Either I’m ignoring you, or I’m actually busy. Either way, just text me and I promise to get back to you!”

Her message always made you laugh, as her phone went right to voice mail. She was actually busy on the other line. You felt a little anxious about what she needed to tell you. It was a long day and it felt like you needed a glass of wine to calm your nerves. A nice spot on your balcony looking over the waterfront was the solution. The perks of your job found you living close to the office, in a condo looking over Coal Harbour. It was the dream and you were living it. As you sat down and put your feet up, taking a deep breath, you saw that Haley was now returning your call.

“Hales, I’m sorry that I didn’t return your call earlier. It was a busy first day back at the office.”

“Hi to you too, can you please look at the text I just sent you. But make sure you have me on speaker…please!”

A little puzzled by her request, you put her on speaker and loaded her message.

“What the heck are you sending me? Is this just another gif of a cat dressed up at an old lady?”

“Just watch it.”

The video came up. It was Chris. A smile came to your face. You see him sitting on the floor of what seemed to be a home library or office, with Dodger snuggled in against his leg. He was holding what appeared to be a book. Not really paying attention to what he is saying at the start of the video, you finally focus in on it.

“This book is illustrated by Y/N Y/L/N………I love how the dog in this book looks like Dodger!!! Here we go. Once Upon a Time…”

Your heart stopped. He said your name without even realizing it. You sat in shock as you closed the video, not needing to watch any more of it.

“So…..?”

“He said my name.”

Staring blankly at the phone, you aren’t too sure what to make of all of this. What were the chances that this would happen?

“Should I bring you more wine?”

“Yes please.”

To be continued in Part IV

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans reader #agirlcandream #chris evans x y/n

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militant-holy-knight · 4 years

Text

Jesuit Suppression Across the Catholic World

In this blogpost, we track how the repression of the Society of Jesus took place in the late 18th-Century.

Brazil

Ground zero for the persecution of the Jesuits. At the time, it was still a Portuguese colony and Jesuits held considerable influence over it as protectors of the Native peoples, with one of these tribes being the Guaraní, who refused to accept Portuguese rule and leave the mission settlements. In 1754, a 3000-strong Spanish and Portuguese military force was dispatched to force the Guaraní to leave the area. The coalition was victorious and over 15,000 Guaranis were either killed or removed, under the protests of the Jesuits which earned the victors’ wrath...

Portugal

The Portuguese Prime-Minister Sebastião de Melo, the Marquis of Pombal, was a Catholic influenced by the Enlightenment who saw the Society of Jesus as holding back Portuguese society with their grip over science and education. The Guarani War is regarded as the start of the animosity between Pombal and the Jesuits for them supporting the Natives against the Portuguese interests. After King Joseph was nearly assassinated by political rivals, the Marquis used the attempted regicide to implicate the Jesuits and use them as an excuse to remove them from Portugal and seize their possessions. The Marquis was granted nearly unlimited power by the king and ruled as an autocratic, but liberal dictator who ordered that all Jesuits should be banished from Portuguese lands and it’s colonies.

France

The French were the second to follow suit, due to already existing tensions between local factions such as the Jansenists and the Gallicans, who objected against the Jesuits’ independence from the crown and answering to an alien power like Rome. The attack on the Jesuits was opened on 17 April 1762 by the Jansenist sympathizer Abbé Chauvelin who denounced the Constitution of the Society of Jesus, which was publicly examined and discussed in a hostile press. The Parlement issued its Extraits des assertions assembled from passages from Jesuit theologians and canonists, in which they were alleged to teach every sort of immorality and error. On 6 August 1762, the final arrêt was proposed to the Parlement by the Advocate General Joly de Fleury, condemning the Society to extinction, but King Louis XV’s intervention brought eight months' delay and in the meantime a compromise was suggested by the Court. If the French Jesuits would separate from the Society headed by the Jesuit General directly under the pope's authority and come under a French vicar, with French customs, as with the Gallican Church, the Crown would still protect them. The French Jesuits, rejecting Gallicanism, refused to consent. As a response, their colleges were closed and they required to renounce their vows under pain of banishment.

Poland

The Jesuits were suppressed one year after the First Partition of Poland with many of the Jesuit order possessions taken over by the Commission of National Education, the world's first Ministry of Education. Ironically, they continued to operate in the areas annexed by Lutheran Prussia and Orthodox Russia.

Austria and Hungary

They went even further than merely suppress the Society of Jesus; Secularization Decree of Holy Roman Joseph II issued on 12 January 1782 for Austria and Hungary banned several monastic orders not involved in teaching or healing and liquidated 140 monasteries (home to 1484 monks and 190 nuns). The banned monastic orders included the Jesuits, Camaldolese, Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, Carmelites, Carthusians, Poor Clares, Order of Saint Benedict, Cistercians, Dominican Order (Order of Preachers), Franciscans, Pauline Fathers and Premonstratensians, and their wealth was taken over by the Religious Fund. His anticlerical and liberal innovations induced Pope Pius VI to pay him a visit in March 1782. Joseph received the Pope politely and presented himself as a good Catholic, but refused to be influenced.

Malta

Malta was at the time a vassal of the Kingdom of Sicily, and Grandmaster Manuel Pinto da Fonseca, himself a Portuguese, followed suit, expelling the Jesuits from the island and seizing their assets. These assets were used in establishing the University of Malta by a decree signed by Pinto on 22 November 1769, with lasting effect on the social and cultural life of Malta. The Church of the Jesuits (in Maltese Knisja tal-Ġiżwiti), one of the oldest churches in Valletta, retains this name up to the present.

Spain

The Spanish Empire was one of the last Catholic states to banish the Jesuits. The Spanish crown had already begun a series of administrative and other changes in their overseas empire, such as reorganizing the viceroyalties, rethinking economic policies, and establishing a military, so that the expulsion of the Jesuits is seen as part of this general trend known generally as the Bourbon Reforms. The aim of the reforms was to curb the increasing autonomy and self-confidence of American-born Spaniards, reassert crown control, and increase revenues. A riot against King Charles III which was viewed as incited by the Jesuits (the riot was caused by an arbitrary law on what people should wear and it’s said one Jesuit actually calmed the mob and sent them home) and alarmed the monarch for challenging their authority. Charles III ordered the convening of a special royal commission to draw up a master plan to expel the Jesuits. The commission first met in January 1767. It modeled its plan on the tactics deployed by France's Philip IV against the Knights Templar in 1307 – emphasizing the element of surprise. Charles's adviser Campomanes had written a treatise on the Templars in 1747, which may have informed the implementation of the Jesuit suppression. Secret orders, to be opened at sunrise on April 2, were sent to all provincial viceroys and district military commanders in Spain. Each sealed envelope contained two documents. One was a copy of the original order expelling "all members of the Society of Jesus" from Charles's Spanish domains and confiscating all their goods. The other instructed local officials to surround the Jesuit colleges and residences on the night of April 2, arrest the Jesuits, and arrange their passage to ships awaiting them at various ports. King Carlos' closing sentence read: “If a single Jesuit, even though sick or dying, is still to be found in the area under your command after the embarkation, prepare yourself to face summary execution”.

Mexico

The Jesuits had actively evangelized the Indians on the northern frontier, but their main activity involved educating elite criollo (American-born Spanish) men, many of whom themselves became Jesuits. Of the 678 Jesuits expelled from Mexico, 75% were Mexican-born. In late June 1767, Spanish soldiers removed the Jesuits from their 16 missions and 32 stations in Mexico. No Jesuit, no matter how old or ill, could be excepted from the king's decree. Many died on the trek along the cactus-studded trail to the Gulf Coast port of Veracruz, where ships awaited them to transport them to Italian exile.

There were protests in Mexico at the exile of so many Jesuit members of elite families, but the Jesuits themselves obeyed the order since they had owned extensive landed estates in Mexico – which supported both their evangelization of indigenous peoples and their education mission to criollo elites – the properties became a source of wealth for the crown. The crown auctioned them off, benefiting the treasury, and their criollo purchasers gained productive well-run properties. Many criollo families felt outraged at the crown's actions, regarding it as a “despotic act”.

Philippines

The royal decree expelling the Society of Jesus from Spain and its dominions reached Manila on 17 May 1768. Between 1769 and 1771, the Jesuits were transported from the Spanish East Indies to Spain and from there deported to Italy.

Italy

After the suppression of the Jesuits in many European countries and their overseas empires, Pope Clement XIV issued a papal brief on 21 July 1773, in Rome titled: Dominus ac Redemptor Noster. That decree included the following statement.

Having further considered that the said Company of Jesus can no longer produce those abundant fruits... in the present case, we are determining upon the fate of a society classed among the mendicant orders, both by its institute and by its privileges; after a mature deliberation, we do, out of our certain knowledge, and the fullness of our apostolical power, suppress and abolish the said company: we deprive it of all activity whatever... And to this end a member of the regular clergy, recommendable for his prudence and sound morals, shall be chosen to preside over and govern the said houses; so that the name of the Company shall be, and is, for ever extinguished and suppressed.

Aftermath

Ironically, the suppression was challenged across most of the non-Catholic Christian nations like Great Britain, Prussia, the Russian Empire and the United States. Frederick the Great of Prussia refused to allow the papal document of suppression to be distributed in his country and Catherine the Great not only refused to allow the papal document of suppression to be distributed, she openly defended the Jesuits from dissolution and the Jesuit chapter in Belarus received her patronage. While Britain did not suppress the Jesuits after seizing Quebec from France, they halted the immigration of anymore Jesuits.

It was also was a major blow to Catholic education across Europe, with nearly 1000 secondary schools and seminaries shut down. Their lands, building and endowments were confiscated; their teachers scattered. Although Jesuit education had become old fashioned in Poland and other areas, it was the main educational support network for Catholic intellectuals, senior clergy and prominent families. Governments tried in vain to replace all those schools, but there were far too few non-clerical teachers who were suitable. This also had an negative effect on the colonies, which saw native populations declining even more rapidly without their protectors. The Jesuit order was restored by the pope in 1814 following the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars, and flourished in terms of rebuilding schools and educational institutions but it never regained its enormous power in the political realm.

Recommended readings:

The Jesuits: History and Legend of the Society of Jesus - Manfred Barthel.

Rise, Character, and Development of Jesuit Education - Cristiano Casalini.

youtube

I also recommend the 1986 movie The Mission which features the Guarani War.

#Christianity #history #persecution #catholicism

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inrainprose · 4 years

Note

How did you get do good at drawing? Can u give some tips? Ive been drawing for 4 months and i cant even draw a head

Okay first of all I still don’t consider myself that good at drawing, but I appreciate the compliment and it’s very nice that you like my work enough to seek advice from me. I’m a little emotional over it not gonna lie.

Unfortunately I don’t have much to give you. I can tell you that 4 months is not long at all, and it’s normal you’re not seeing as much progress as you’d want to yet. I never took up drawing “seriously” myself in the sense that I never sat down and thought “I’m gonna learn how to draw now”. I learned to draw by drawing, and I started, excluding my childhood doodles, about 10 years ago, though the pieces I wouldn’t be too embarrassed to show wouldn’t be older than 5, when I started to draw more seriously/regularly. Even now, a lot of the ones I put out on my blog make me cringe a bit haha (and there are many more that I don’t post), though there are more and more I genuinely appreciate and am proud of.

Tbh the thing that really helped me take off is copying stuff. I used to draw only from imagination, and while I miss being able to do that sometimes, there’s no doubt that having references made a huge difference. I don’t draw a realistic style and I didn’t learn anatomy or anything, nor do I copy images for the hell of it. But instead of pulling my hair trying to nail a pose I just spend a few minutes looking for pictures with what I have in mind on it and I go from there. I’ve come to enjoy that part - a little too much maybe haha.

I also did that thing where I drew every day for a year and that was also a big step forward, no matter how rushed the drawings were sometimes. The thing that shows me I’ve improved is not particularly that my pieces look better than they used to, but that they take me less time and effort and that I don’t fuck them up as much now. But also, you can’t aim too high at first. It’s frustrating because you have those images in your head and you can’t translate them on paper but that’s just life. You have to do with what skills you have at the moment, but you also shouldn’t give up on big ideas just because you don’t feel you can’t do them right. Try anyway. And try again later.

I don’t know if you’re learning properly, like techniques and all, and what you’re objectives are, so I can’t tell you much more. I can only encourage you to stick to it and realize that it’ll be some time until you produce something you’re proud of. Also, don’t be too hard on yourself. I used to be very critical of my drawings and I couldn’t fathom how anyone could find them any good when there are so much better artists out there and when I could find so many flaws in them. But drawing anything at all is already a step not everyone can make. Sometimes I look at digital painting and colorful pieces and I’m like “I could never do that” and like. Yeah. I couldn’t. I can’t draw digitally and I don’t use much color, cause I prefer paper and black and white anyway and I don’t feel like learning those. And I’m not a professional and I’m not as committed to it as some of those artists are. So I can’t do that, and that’s fine. Maybe I’ll learn more, maybe I won’t. We’re never done.

Most importantly though, it’s just that drawing is supposed to be fun and nice, it’s supposed to feel good, especially if it’s a hobby and not you’re livelihood or something. I love to draw. When I’m in the mood I’ll spend hours on it, when I really want to represent that thing in my head or I just crave the act itself. Pen on paper. What a treat. So enjoy yourself. You can only get better.

"I don’t have much to give you “ she said six paragraphs ago... Well I’m done now ^^ Good luck!

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kafeuka · 4 years

Text

[1/1] the hopeless case of a romantic

█ Title: the hopeless case of a romantic █ Summary: It wasn’t how he imagined it would be, but that night, Jeongguk knew he would not have it any other way. █ Status: Completed █ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin This is written for JIKOOK WEEK DAY O1: Then and Now

Yoongi hyung often accused Jeongguk of being a hopeless romantic, as if having a big heart, a gentle soul and a love for love is a crime. He believed in soulmates; the idea of two people whose names and story were whispered amongst the stars never failed to warm his heart. This belief stemmed from his parents, the two human beings whom he loved most in the whole entire world.

He wanted someone who would look at him the way his father looked at his mother; as if she hung all the twinkling stars, shaped all the silver moons with her hands and paint the skies when the sun set. He wanted someone who would love him unconditionally, just like how his mother loved his father although she despised his smoking habit.

Despite their age, they were not shy in showing affection for the whole world to see. Jeongguk wondered how they were so comfortable with each other that whenever they were together, the rest of the world just seemed to melt away. As if the world was theirs, and the others were just living in it.

Because of this, Jeongguk was never really into a relationship. Not that he ever had one. Most of the times he would just admire someone from afar. He would rather not get involved at all.

Hoseok hyung suggested that he should go on blind dates. Initially, he agreed.

The first phase – adding them as a friend, sliding into the DMs – was great.

The next step – meeting and actually going out on a date – however, was terrible.

Gone the confident, charming boy from the DMs. Always replaced by the stuttering, sweating mess that was Jeon Jeongguk. It was awfully easy to compliment someone when you were staring at a screen, but when it comes to staring into their eyes, Jeongguk found himself shaking.

At the age of twenty, Jeon Jeongguk gave up in finding the One.

All of his crushes were out of his league and most of his admirers never called after the second date. He was not that desperate to send cute text messages to someone as he had this irrational fear of being a burden, but it would be great to have someone who would listen to him rant about how his day went.

As much as he hated to admit it, Yoongi hyung was not entirely wrong. He was not only a hopeless romantic, but he was hopeless and romantic.

ii.

When Jeongguk asked Yoongi hyung how he knew Seokjin hyung was his soulmate, he answered: “They say when you meet your soulmate, you just know it’s them.”

He hated how unhelpful those statement was, because that was not how he met his.

His parents’ love story was a typical love story. It was love at first sight – Jeongguk’s favourite. They met at a fair held at the amusement park. His father took the job of the ride operator for the summer, and as the stars had written it, he met her at the end of his shift. He always mentioned that she reminded him of a firework, beautiful and mesmerizing that his world stopped. She was queueing then, waiting for her turn and he saw a chance and took it.

While two of her friends were seated together, he stepped in and offered to sit next to her even though going to a someplace high was not something he considered an entertainment. Of course, his attempt caused an uproar, he received raucous boos from the other angry kids and a warning from the manager but it was worth it. He always had a small smile on his face whenever he got to this part of the story. They chatted as they waited and for the first time since he rode the rollercoaster, he was not the tiniest bit scared.

Jeongguk would never fail to let out an overly exaggerated groan, often expressing his displeasure by making faces along with a remark full of disgust, but he knew that he wanted, longed even, to feel that way too.

Meeting the One should be magical, like something that you would read in a fairy tale.

This was how Jeongguk truly believed would happen when he finally meets the one: it will be romantic, not too cringy and pukeworthy but just romantic enough to make his friends and his cousins to be envious of him. Time will stop when they lock eyes with each other, the angels will begin to sing while simultaneously play their harps to produce a mellifluous symphony of the century and petals would fall around them out of nowhere, just like the anime he watched last week.

That was not what happened.

It was not magical or dreamy or romantic.

He blamed all the Tony/Steve soulmate fanfictions he read at 3AM for implementing the idea of “love at first sight” and “instant connection between two lonely souls” inside his head.

In fact, Jeongguk met Park Jimin on a sunny Tuesday morning in the most Boring class in the history of Boring Classes. Jeongguk hated his guts at first. Whenever Jimin opened his mouth to speak, Jeongguk would find himself rolling his eyes and praying to God for an ice cream truck to drop on him. Being run over repeatedly by a lorry was less painful than having to sit in a two-hour class with Jimin.

However, there was also a saying that goes, ‘If you hate someone too much, you’ll end up loving them too much.’

That statement, however, was something he wished Yoongi hyung had told him instead.

iii.

They began to interact when they were allotted in the same group for their second assignment. Every second Jeongguk spent sitting at the same table with Jimin was agonising. Being in the same group at the same table meant that Jimin’s voice was now much clearer and he was now much closer.

Jimin’s face was pleasing to the eyes, he was soft and hard at the same time. He had gentle, dark and slightly slanted eyes yet his piercing gaze often made Jeongguk look away. His cheeks were round and squishy, they reminded Jeongguk of the mochi he always had after elementary school, however his jaw was as sharp as a knife. All in all, Jimin was not hideous at all, especially when he had his mouth shut. Unfortunately, Jimin had a lot he wanted to announce to the class so thanks to this irritating behaviour of his, it was not difficult to overlook his features.

He ignored the voice inside his head that screamed at him to ditch the class, but the rational part of his mind reminded him that he was a scholarship student. The last thing he wanted was to get kicked out just because he did not want to be in the same room as Jimin.

From the instructions, Jeongguk could already tell how much of a pain in the ass it would be. Decorating a booth? Creating an advertisement video? There was just too much work to be done in three months and there were only five heads in his group.

Naturally, Jimin was elected as the team leader because:

a) He was the teacher’s pet

b) Everyone in the group was utterly in love with him

Arguing about the team members position when you were going to be stuck with them for months was not something in Jeongguk’s list. He decided to went along with it, letting the protests vanish although they were already at the tip of his tongue and settled with an imaginary argument inside his head instead.

The first day was unbearable — Jeongguk had to lower his head once in a while to stop his eye from twitching in annoyance. Every single word Jimin uttered seemed to make his blood boil and head throb. He did not know it was possible for a person to be this insufferable. Jeongguk tried his hardest not to roll his eyes whenever the others were praising Jimin. His ideas were not exactly that brilliant, if Jeongguk were to be honest.

“Sorry, I was sort of rambling,” Jimin apologized with a small giggle.

Jeongguk managed to held back a groan. He knew damn well he was rambling and he apologized for it, but Jeongguk knew that he was not feeling sorry. Not even a little bit. Not when he had that proud smile on his face. God, Jeongguk would love to slap that smile from his face.

“Anybody had any better idea?” Jimin asked, looking at each and every one of them.

Pretending to be considerate? Man, this guy knew how to get on Jeongguk’s nerves.

He absolutely had no idea what came over him, maybe it was how the other team members were ready to lick the ground Jimin walked on, or maybe how irritating and high pitched Wonho’s giggles was, but Jeongguk opened his mouth up to speak, despite his brain being empty of ideas.

“Maybe, uh…”

All heads turned towards him, staring at him in anticipation. Somehow, instead of looking at anybody else, his eyes found Jimin’s. Jimin was beaming, dark eyes glistening as he slowly nodded to encourage Jeongguk. His gaze was different than the others, which was a good thing because it made him feel less nervous. Jimin’s smile stretched wider, and all of a sudden, the weight of the team’s collective gazes felt like it had been lifted from his shoulders.

Jeongguk brought his hand on top of the table, softly tapping his index finger as he straightened in his seat. With a newfound surge of confidence, he said, “Maybe, um… instead of making it only focusing on drawings or paintings, maybe we can… uh… consider every form of art for the website?”

“Huh… that’s not bad,” Chaeyoung murmured, before clicking her pen and started to write something on her notebook.

Jimin beamed, “I love the idea! That’s wonderful. This means that we are not only targeting painters, we are also attracting a large amount of audience who are—”

Jeongguk’s body went lax after his impromptu outburst (technically, it was not an outburst but he insisted that it was), he lain his back against the chair, wishing to become one with it. He felt thankful that nobody was criticizing his dumb idea. And never in a million years he wanted to admit it, but he felt glad that Jimin was encouraging him, instead of trying to shoot him down.

It was the first time he felt so welcomed.

iv.

Before the first week ended, they managed to lay everything down. When it comes to his leadership skills, Jimin was quite lenient in their task division. Jeongguk offered to work on the advertisement video, and as much as he would rather do it all alone, Jimin was determined that he needed help. As a method of group communication, Jimin created a group text for the five of them.

Jeongguk was hoping that it will be a quiet group, but it was especially alive at night and early in the morning. Jimin would never fail to send a message to greet them good morning and night, and sometimes he would send motivational messages for all of them. It took all Jeongguk’s willpower not to reply a ‘Shut The Fuck Up’ or leave the group, but he had to remind himself that he needed to be in good terms with everyone in the team.

Two weeks before the deadline, it was Jeongguk’s turn to play a huge role for their project. So far, he had only been helping with the report and booth decoration, which was not something major as everyone had taken part too. He announced in their group chat (which was probably his third time ever sending a message there) that he was going to start working on the video soon.

He completed the storyboard a few days earlier before sharing his vision to the group. He was ready to get attacked, to have Wonho judging him, to have Jimin being dissatisfied with his work, to Chaeyoung being disappointed and to have Mirae complain about how lacking it was. Unlike his expectation, they liked it. Jimin was the one who loved it the most, always complimenting how hardworking he was, and how he truly appreciated the effort Jeongguk made with the storyboard.

Instead of the usual ‘good luck Jeongguk!’ and ‘thanks for your hard work!’, Jeongguk received a private message from Jimin. They never texted privately before, and seeing Jimin’s name on a new chat caused him to raise an eyebrow. Was Jimin about to ask him to add last minute changes for the video?

With negative thoughts flooding his mind, he heaved a sigh before clicking it open.

✉ From: Jimin Hey! Just wondering if you are OK? If you need help, I’m here 😊

“Huh…” Jeongguk huffed, squinting his eyes in suspicion. His thumb hovered over the keyboard before typing an answer, only to backspace everything. It was rather curious how Jimin was checking up on him, as if he thought Jeongguk was unreliable.

Seokjin hyung often told him that he was always being sceptical for absolutely no reason at all, that he always thought of things negatively instead of positively. It was a trait he was not proud of, but he could not help it when Jimin suddenly text him privately out of nowhere.

After quite some time, he finally typed a reply.

✉ To: Jimin I’m fine. Thanks for your concern

Belatedly, he realised the text he sent seemed rude so he abruptly added a smiley face.

✉ From: Jimin Haha, alright then. Where will you be working on the video?

✉ To: Jimin I’ll be going to the art room to meet up with the art students. Then I’ll probably go to library to shoot some scenes

✉ From: Jimin Okay 😊

Jeongguk stared at the screen of his phone, waiting for ‘Jimin is typing…’ to appear. When it did not, he locked his phone and tossed it to his bed.

Of course, Jeongguk just had to be an idiot by telling Jimin his plan. The moment he entered the art room, Jimin was already there, talking with a few of the art students and laughing about something they said. Jeongguk nearly dropped his camera when he saw Jimin, not expecting the blonde to be there at all.

“Hey, Jeongguk!” Jimin called out, waving his hand at him.

Jeongguk awkwardly waved back, not liking the attention he was getting when everybody turned their heads towards him.

“So, where do you want me, mate?” Mingyu asked as he got off from the table.

“Preferably anywhere I can work comfortably. How about there?”

“So I just had to draw, is it?”

“Yeah. Just draw whatever you want, don’t pay attention to me. I want it to look candid,” Jeongguk informed before placing his backpack on top of the table.

While Mingyu was preparing his material, Jeongguk took out his tripod from his bag and began to assemble it together with his camera when Jimin approached him.

“Do you need any help?” Jimin asked, watching Jeongguk work with his camera.

“Nah.”

“Okay, I’ll just wait for you in case you need me.”

“You can go, you know. I can handle this.”

“I know,” Jimin grinned before shrugging, “Just in case.”

He doubted that he needed Jimin to be there, but before he could ask him to go again, he decided against it. Once Mingyu was ready, Jeongguk began recording. It was only a minute in when Jeongguk announced him to stop so he could check the video. The angle was perfect, Mingyu’s facial expression was good, however the lighting was unsatisfactory. Sure, it was not as terrible as the lighting in that one battle episode of Game of Thrones, but it would be difficult during the editing process later.

Jimin must have sensed that something was troubling him that the leader stood next to him, peered on the video and asked if something was wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong except the lighting,” Jeongguk murmured, looking up the ceiling to find the lights were already switched on to his dismay.

The weather was not exactly helping either.

“I can help,” Jimin quipped enthusiastically before taking out his phone from his pocket and switch on the flashlight as he waved his phone around. “Let me know where you need me.”

The whole idea was absurd to Jeongguk, but it was worth a try. In less than half an hour, with Jimin’s help, he was done. The one who was super happy about it was Jimin, who could not stop gushing how amazing the video was and how professional Mingyu looked. Jeongguk grinned as he pressed fast forward, completely satisfied at how the video turned out.

He thanked Mingyu and the art students before packing his stuff to move to the library with Jimin following him. One thing Jeongguk noticed about Jimin was how he just had a lot of things to talk about, never running out of topic. It was irritating at first, but at times he spewed some facts that Jeongguk found to be interesting. Jeongguk let him talk, he watched as Jimin was speaking animatedly about the latest comic book he was reading.

Surprisingly, the day (and recording) went by smoothly. He even had a few videos he could use for fillers. The four hours he spent with Jimin was not horrible at all. If anything, it was quite… enjoyable.

He decided that Park Jimin was less annoying now.

He was not entirely certain when he began to feel completely comfortable around Jimin, but he knew it did not take long enough to warm up to him. Gradually, he stopped talking rather formally to Jimin and started to jest around, well aware of how much he actually enjoyed hearing the laughter coming out from Jimin.

In fact, everything seemed to go so smoothly that Jeongguk felt worried. They managed to complete everything before the deadline, they have submitted their work early and all they needed to do was now prepare for the upcoming exhibition. Finishing early meant that they have time for other assignments.

Even after they were done, Jimin still never failed to greet them mornings and nights, asking them how their assignments went. Honestly, it baffled the hell out of Jeongguk because he was so used to not keeping any contact with his previous group members. Once a project is complete, so did their team. They were only there to work, not to connect emotionally. The change was refreshing that the spam of text messages from the group did not bother him anymore. It actually made Jeongguk went from completely silent, to the one who sent memes as a response.

A part of him was embarrassed of having terrible thoughts regarding his groupmates because now he came to a realization that he actually enjoyed their presence.

More specifically Jimin’s.

After everything was done and they were reaching the end of semester, Jimin insisted on having a celebration. Truth be told, Jeongguk was not big on social gatherings but after weeks of being with Jimin, he knew he was unable to say no.

Jeongguk found himself counting days to the celebration, a bit surprised at himself for feeling excited rather than dreading it. They went to a restaurant at first for dinner, but ended up going to the nearest club after Chaeyoung suggested. He swallowed, praying to the heavens that majority of them would decline but he could not help but to cave in when he saw how enthusiastic Jimin was when Chaeyoung brought it up.

Even before entering, music was already spilling out to the street and it felt as if heartbeats were on the loud speakers. It was not as crowded as Jeongguk had imagine, but there were still a lot than he would have liked. Most of them went straight to the dance floor, laughing and grinding against each other under the acid green lights. Jimin, however, strutted to the bar. Jeongguk only followed, knowing well that he would not be able to dance if there wasn’t any alcohol in his system.

The music only seemed to get louder by the second, and by the time Jeongguk sat next to Jimin, the blonde already gulped down three shots.

“Wow.” Jeongguk had to leaned it slightly and yell. “Slow down, Jimin.”

Jimin’s pretty lips curved upwards as he shook his head. Jeongguk watched as he took out his wallet, yelled at the bartender for one Zombie. Jeongguk have only drank beers from the convenience stores and a few sips of martini, so when Jimin had his drink delivered, he was a little bit in awe. It was served in a tall glass, bright red in colour with a lot of ice. Jimin ditched the straw, sipping them in one go. Jeongguk could not help but to stare in amazement.

“Jimin,” he called out, but the music drowned his voice. He tried again, practically screaming this time. “Jimin!!”

“Yeah?” Jimin answered.

“Are you okay?”

He could not hear Jimin’s reply, but from his lips Jeongguk could tell he was saying, “Grand.”

Jeongguk began to worry then when Jimin reached out for his wallet again, but Jeongguk stopped him and ordered water instead. He paid for the overcharged water bottles and handed one to Jimin. Jimin refused, shaking his head and pushing the bottle away.

The next thing Jeongguk knew, Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise and he abruptly clamped his lips shut. Jeongguk raised a brow in confusion before Jimin stood up from the stool, nearly toppling it in the process, then proceeded to frantically turn his head in search of something.

“Jimin, are you—” He was not given the chance to continue his sentence because Jimin dashed as soon as his eyes lit up. Bewildered, Jeongguk followed from behind, not before grabbing both water bottles.

Jimin ran to the bathroom, nearly colliding with a man who just came out of it, and Jeongguk had to apologize on his behalf. After profusely repeating his apologies and bowing to show sincerity, Jeongguk entered the bathroom and was immediately greeted with the sounds of Jimin retching.

The bathroom was a lot quieter; the music was barely heard inside the pristine white walls. Jeongguk approached the stall with an open door to find Jimin was kneeling on the floor, head bowing near the toilet bowl.

“Oh, Jimin,” Jeongguk sighed before kneeling next to him, trying his best not to breathe through his nostrils.

He gently caressed Jimin’s back as Jimin heaved. Once Jimin was done, Jeongguk offered him water, which Jimin gladly took. Jimin flushed before leaning meekly against the partition, lips swollen, nose red and his eyes teary. Jeongguk offered a sympathetic smile as Jimin sniffed.

“Are you okay?”

Jimin took a sip instead of answering, his eyes avoiding Jeongguk.

Jeongguk let the question hang in the air, not wanting to force an answer out of Jimin.

Jimin had a distant look on his face, and Jeongguk understood that there was something that was troubling him.

After a while, Jimin finally spoke. “Not quite.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Jimin bit his lower lip, eyes softening as he lowered his gaze. “Not really,” he answered.

“That’s okay. We can talk about something else then. Or do you prefer to just sit on the dirty floor?”

Jimin’s lips cracked a smile Jeongguk did not know he missed. How could he missed Jimin’s smile when he had seen them more than the hair on his head?

“Thank you, Jeongguk.”

“For...?”

“For being here,” Jimin smiled. Oh boy, Jeongguk thought. Oh boy. “It really means a lot to me.”

Jeongguk had seen countless of smiles on Jimin’s face before but this one was different. His eyes did not crinkle in the corners, but his gaze on Jeongguk was soft and endearing. His smile did not reach his ears, but he knew it was genuine.

At that moment, sitting on the dirty checkered floor of a club he could not even pronounce, he was certain that he found the One.

vi.

Symptoms of falling in love according to the first website Google provided:

1. You can’t stop staring at them: check ✔

Of course, he could not stop staring at Jimin. He would not want to miss those smiles, the way Jimin would pout his lips sometimes when he spoke, how Jimin’s brows furrowed when he was thinking and the way Jimin’s eyes formed crescents and body vibrating when he laughed.

2. You want them to be happy: check ✔

Of course, he wanted Jimin to be happy. Jimin deserved everything good in the universe. Hell, Jeongguk would have swam the entire ocean and walk through fire just to see Jimin smile.

3. You always think about them: check ✔

Of course, he always thought of Jimin. The first thing he thought of after waking up? Jimin. The last thing he thought of before going to sleep? Jimin. Be it day or night, it was always Jimin, Jimin and Jimin. He was now a permanent resident in Jeongguk’s mind.

4. You’re OK with the gross stuff: check ✔

Of course, wasn’t it obvious? He would have left Jimin all by himself that night in the bathroom, but instead, he chose to stay and sat with Jimin to ensure Jimin was okay.

5. You love their quirks: check ✔

Of course, he did. Jimin’s quirks were adorable and undeniably, made his heart skipped a beat. He initiated skinship a lot, which Jeongguk did not mind, but whenever he put his hand behind Jeongguk’s nape, his thumb would create patterns. This only made Jeongguk lean in closer, his body tingling with every gentle movement his thumb made. Even his need of constant praises was endearing that Jeongguk found himself spilling praises after praises just for Jimin.

No longer was Jeongguk annoyed with his boisterous – and wonderful, if Jeongguk might add – voice and his invasion of Jeongguk’s personal face.

(And that was because he craved listening to Jimin talk and touches.)

6. You find yourself always talking about them: check ✔

Of course, he would talk about Jimin, what else was there to talk about? He first noticed when Yoongi mentioned how Jeongguk could not stop prattling about Jimin this, Jimin that. It was not as if he could stop himself.

7. You reread their text message: check ✔

Of course, he would reread Jimin’s text messages. They were cute, always full of emojis and they instantly lifted Jeongguk’s mood even just a little. In fact, he had Jimin’s text pinned.

8. You lose track of time and no amount of time spent with them is ever enough: check ✔

Of course, he could not be bothered checking the time when he was with Jimin. Spending just a few minutes with Jimin was better than not seeing him at all but he found himself yearning to have Jimin’s presence when they were apart.

9. You’ll happily jump through hoops without even thinking about it to be with them: check ✔

Of course, he would do anything to spend time with Jimin. He went to the club for fuck’s sake. He drank the bitter ass coffee despite knowing how much he hated it because Jimin dared him to. He lied about passing through the Science building when he was actually waiting for Jimin’s class to be over.

In conclusion: of fucking course he was truly, utterly and madly in love with Jimin.

vii.

Jeongguk was aware that the pros of being in love with a friend outweigh the cons.

For starters, he saw Jimin almost every day and unlike his previous crushes, he actually interacted with Jimin properly. As his dumb ass only realised of the feelings he had for Jimin at the end of the semester, he had to rack his brains to find out reasons to hang out with Jimin. It was easier on his part, as Jimin was friendly, so most of the time it was Jimin who invited him out.

Besides, being friends meant he was able to hold Jimin’s hand without being suspicious. Jimin’s hands were soft and they fit perfectly with his. His fingers were delicate that Jeongguk was afraid he might break them if he held onto Jimin’s hand too tightly.

They became attached to the hip when they began texting nonstop every day and night. But midnights were probably Jeongguk’s favourite because there was just something about the quiet, knowing that there were more eyes closed than open, that they started to get to know each other on an entirely different level. Their usual banters and meme exchange would transition to their deep thoughts and stories. Midnight conversations seemed to hold more weight, and knowing that Jimin chose to stay up to talk to him made him want to steal all the stars and gifted them to Jimin.

Jeongguk was the type to let his phone battery died before charging, but that habit was soon replaced by charging the device while texting Jimin.

But the cons of being in love with your friend? They’re your friend.

Jeongguk had never fall for a friend before, but he knew it had to be one of the worst things to experience. He was plagued with worries and anxious thoughts, always wondering if he was being way too obvious or if he seemed uninterested. To say that he would not want Jimin as a boyfriend would probably the biggest lie he ever told himself and Yoongi hyung.

“You should tell Jimin.”

“Hyung!” Jeongguk whined, hand slapping Yoongi’s arm playfully. “You know I can’t.”

As much as he wanted to, he could not. It was risky and Jimin probably only regard him as a friend. The shittiest thing about crushing on Jimin was how it made Jeongguk kept on dancing between the lines of wanting the whole world to know his humongous love for Jimin and losing Jimin. There was no doubt that Jimin was now one of the important people in Jeongguk’s life, and he could not simply bear the thought of losing Jimin simply because he could not control his feelings.

“If there’s one thing I learnt, Jeongguk, is that you either tell Jimin how you feel and the worst case scenario is that you fucked up, maybe you’ll lose what you have with him now, but from the stories I’ve heard, Jimin’s nice and he might still want to be friends,” Yoongi said, his demeanour completely changed. Jeongguk only stared at Yoongi, mind conjuring up images of Jimin rejecting him and it made him shudder.

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi continued, “Or you can say nothing, and it’ll fuck you up instead. Not gonna fucking lie, eventually you’ll lose him too. Knowing you, I’m sure you’ll end up avoiding him, which in turn, would hurt the both of you.”

Jeongguk gawked at him.

Yoongi hyung was right. And he would not give Yoongi hyung the satisfaction of him admitting that.

viii.

✉ From: Jimin remember that night when i hurled and you stayed by my side?

✉ To: Jimin how can i not the smell still lingered til this day :p

✉ From: Jimin fuck you ajsnsjs well i was going thru a ~difficult~ time sometimes i felt like out of place and that it’s my fault for the delay of testing the hosting but you guys were amazing, i am eternally grateful my other assignments were also a pain in the ass and i did not get along with my other teammates to add salt to the wound, i broke up with my boyfriend

✉ To: Jimin holy shit i have no idea & please jimin, it’s NOT ur fault. besides, we finished everything on time ur teammates is missing out & ur better off without ur boyfriend!!!! don’t be so hard on urself :(

✉ From: Jimin you make me tear up :”) thank you for staying by my side, jeongguk. i love you <3

ix.

Jimin had a boyfriend before, which was not surprising really, because who would not want to date Jimin? But hearing it from Jimin himself, Jeongguk could not help but felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. Sure, they were no longer together, but Jeongguk would still like to know who was the bastard who dared to hurt Jimin.

After tossing and turning for weeks, Jeongguk decided that he would confess once and for all.

They did not share any classes on the following semester, but they would still make time for each other. Spending more time with Jimin was both a blessing and a curse, it was as though he owned the world and yet his heart just kept on growing and growing in his chest, threatening to spill all his love for Jimin in the form of kisses and ‘I love you’s.

Most of the fanfictions he read had amazing yet unrealistic (for him to execute, yeah) confession scenes. There was one of Tony and Steve arguing and Tony ended it by accidentally saying that he loved Steve. It was cute, but Jeongguk and Jimin were not exactly enemies to lovers.

(Except that, in Jeongguk’s head, they kind of were. Although, the hatred was only one-sided.)

But Jeongguk knew for sure that he would not want to let Jimin know through text. There were a lot of memorable texts in their chat, and he would not want to feel upset when he scrolled through them in the future to find the texts of Jimin rejecting him amidst of it.

“You’re an idiot,” Yoongi voiced out as he stirred his ramen with the wooden chopsticks.

Offended, Jeongguk scoffed as he crossed his arms, glaring at Yoongi from where he was sitting. Yoongi ignored the daggers Jeongguk was throwing, instead he slurped the noodles.

“You’re the idiot,” Jeongguk countered childishly.

Yoongi licked his lips before he avowed, “You’re thinking too much. It should feel natural. You have to mean it, show him that you are serious.”

“You mean like… take him out on a fancy dinner or?”

“It doesn’t have to be like that. You can just text him right now, say that you wanna be more than friends, and that’s it.”

“Huh. How did you confess to Seokjin hyung then?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I didn’t. He did.”

When it happened, Jeongguk was not planning on it at all. They were having their usual midnight conversations again, and when the conversation seemed to shift into something less serious, Jeongguk had the urge to tell Jimin how much he meant to Jeongguk. He was driven to do so when Jimin ended his text with his usual ‘i love you <3’ that Jeongguk knew it was just a habit of his.

Gathering his courage, he asked:

✉ To: Jimin hey jimin can i call you?

Barely five seconds passed and yet Jeongguk was already sweating buckets. He was convinced that Jimin would not want to, maybe he had a feeling that this was about to happen and Jimin chose to turn off his phone. He saw the speech bubble, indicating that Jimin was typing, and he did not give Jimin the chance to send his text because he abruptly pressed on the green button.

It only took him one ring for Jimin to answer. As soon as he heard Jimin’s raspy, “Hello,” from the other line, his brain chose to empty all his thoughts. His mouth was drying, desperately trying to find the right words so he would not sound like a creep.

“I love you,” he blurted out.

Jimin let out a giggle before answering, “I love you too.”

“No, no, I mean,” he licked his lips, gripping on his phone even tighter. “I love you like I love love you. I love you as in I would drive you to the moon. I love you as in I wanna hold your hand and never let it go. I love you as in I would bring you breakfast in bed, if you’d let me. I love you as in—” he took a deep breath, internally wincing at how his voice was so shaky, courtesy of his heart hammering wildly against his chest, “— I only watched Frozen despite hating it because it was with you, and that is better than not spending a few minutes without you.”

“Oh.”

Jeongguk could not tell what Jimin was feeling from the tone of his voice.

Disappointed? Congratulations, Jeon Jeongguk, you just ruined a friendship that could’ve lasted a lifetime.

Angry? Jeon Jeongguk, you dumbass, why the fuck do you have to go and develop feelings?

Jeongguk wanted to throw his phone to the nearest wall, the silence from the other line was suffocating him. He was certain that he had just ruined one of the best things that ever happened to him. This was what he got for listening to Yoongi hyung again. Confess, he said. It won’t be that bad, he said.

“Jeongguk, I—”

I’m sorry. I can’t. We’re just friends.

Jeongguk screwed his eyes shut, biting his lower lips. He waited for the rejection to hit him like a punch. It was inevitable after all.

“— I’m glad. I’m glad you feel the same way.”

“Eh?” Jeongguk blinked, straightening his back. Were his ears defying him?

He heard Jimin huffed a weak laugh. “I love you too, love as in when I close my eyes, all I see is you.”

“Oh.” Warmth and embarrassment flooded through Jeongguk at once. He cleared his throat. “Well, okay, then. I’m gonna hang up.”

“Wait! You’re gonna hang up on me? After I confess my love for you?”

He could see Jimin slyly grinning now, probably enjoying the situation more than he should. Jeongguk chortled, “What else do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know…” Jimin sighed, but he was unmistakably smiling. “Maybe you can ask me out?”

“Hm,” Jeongguk pretended to ponder, his heart swelling. His hands were shaking and the drowsiness he felt earlier subsided, swapped by the sudden surge of happiness he felt in his veins. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Jimin giggled again, causing Jeongguk to bit his lower lip to tamper the smile that was threatening to take over.

“I’ll be waiting then.”

That night, Jeongguk did not sleep at all. How could he, when reality was finally better than his dreams?

xi.

“When did you know?” Jimin asked. He scooted closer to Jeongguk, resting his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

Jeongguk hummed, wrapping an arm around Jimin. “Know what?”

“Know that you’re in love with me,” Jimin whispered, sounding bashful as he nuzzled his nose against the crook of Jeongguk’s neck.

“Oh, that,” Jeongguk murmured. He twisted his lips to the side, slightly ashamed and reluctant to tell Jimin. “That night at the club.”

“Yuck!” Jimin giggled, reeling his head back in surprise before playfully hitting Jeongguk’s chest. “That night? I was on my worst, oh my god. I was puking, for God’s sake!”

Jeongguk laughed, shaking his head in embarrassment. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I had some feelings way before that but that night, I just knew, you know.”

Jimin scoffed. “Out of all times and places…”

“What about you?” Jeongguk asked, turning towards his boyfriend. “When did you know?”

“Did you know why I broke up with my ex back then?”

Jeongguk grimaced, he was not fond of Jimin’s exes. Up until now, he still had no idea who it was.

“Because, well, this is embarrassing. I had a crush on you. Initially, I thought it was dumb of me to throw away a relationship over something that was not certain. But that night, when you chose to comfort me and stayed by me, even when I was at my worst, that’s when I knew that I…” Jimin shifted his gaze elsewhere, pretending to be interested at the bowl on the coffee table. He reached out, grabbing the bowl and picked on the popcorns.

“Holy shit… at the same time? Really?”

Jimin shrugged, holding the bowl closer to him before he lifted Jeongguk’s arm to rest against his shoulders.

“You know,” Jeongguk mumbled before planting a kiss on the back of Jimin’s head. “We don’t have to watch this. I know you don’t like The Walking Dead.”

“’Course I don’t,” Jimin replied, munching on a popcorn. “But I’d watch this with you. I mean, it’s better than not spending a minute with you.”

“God, I hate you.”

Jeongguk knew Jimin would never miss the opportunity to make fun of Jeongguk’s confession, and although it was humiliating, a part of him was glad that Jimin did.

xii.

This was how Jeon Jeongguk’s wedding vow went:

“Jimin, I used to believe that I would hear bells when I first met my soulmate. Instead, all I heard was your deafening laughter in class, which now I have come to love. You are the kindest person I’ve ever met, you are gentle in everything you do and I think that’s the most beautiful thing a person can be.

Thank you for staying with me, for being by my side. Thank you for bringing sunshine and colours to my life, for always believing in me, for never giving up on me even after I accidentally ruined the ikea shelf. Thank you for giving me the best version of myself.

I promise to make you laugh when you’re taking yourself too seriously, to care for you and to have Disney marathon without skipping Frozen with you. I promise to love you unconditionally. You are the sunlight that rose again in my life, reincarnation of my childhood dreams, my soulmate.”

#jikook #kookmin #jikook fanfic #kookmin fanfic #kfk: oneshot

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ingayderzim · 4 years

Note

not to be that person who asks a googleable question but wtf is hazbin hotel bc i googled it and the only “critical” thing i could find was a typo-ridden article of someone saying it has good animation and its haters are stupid. i was able to glean what it is/what it’s about but idk about the discourse lmao

Im actually so glad u asked this. Here's the lowdown, this is my definitive answer to hazbin shit from here on out, unless new info comes about of course.

Hazbin hotel is an independent cartoon by vivziepop. Most people (that ive seen) have agreed that the pilot of the show really isnt that great but the reason it has so many fans is bc of the entertaining livestreams, massive amounts of canon content produced (she has had these characters for years), unique art style, and the characters. (Ass ugly but unique.)

Its haters are totally justified bc of some of the "controversial" (read: bad) things vivziepop has done. Here's the conclusion that my friends and classmates (several of whom are Black, one Hispanic woman, and one trans woman...nellie if ur reading this i 💜 u) and i came to after discussing this stuff. I am NOT saying "well my black/trans friend said it's ok so i dont have to think about it!" this is based on a few different conversations that my friends and i have had about this topic so what im saying is that my opinion was formed by talking about this situation with multiple people affected by the controversy.

One controversial thing is a drawing u can easily find on google (called beastiality.jpg i believe?) It's a cropped (chest and up, but hes obv naked) drawing of vivziepops character, drawn by vivziepop, moaning, with a snake around him. The character is 17. Many people have interpreted this as child porn. I dont think this image is pornographic, i think it's a stupid joke (it was even tagged as a joke iirc) and completely inappropriate but since it's 8 years old on top of not being porn, i think it's just an example of a dumb drawing. That being said, i would NEVER argue that someone who is uncomfortable w the drawing (im uncomfortable with it! It's gross just not porn) or considers it porn is wrong. They are entitled to that opinion and i would never expose them to vivziepops work or talk about her stuff around them if they expressed to me that they disliked the image.

Another thing is that she drew a doodle of two racist TERFs. This is the one where my friends of color, my friends who are black, and my friends who are trans women took the lead. I sat back for this part and here's their and my opinion on this after talking about it and verbally going through this whole situation.

She was following these women (who had done blackface and stuff) and drew art of them. The art was a "quick doodle" that she did apologize for and she said she didn't realize the extent of their beliefs. She knew they werent great but hadnt consumed much of their content in depth. I believe her bc while ive never followed anyone as bad, ive certainly followed some pieces of shit and didnt notice for months simply bc im not online all the time and bc of the volume of people i follow, combined with the non chronological algorithms lately.

At the risk of screwing myself, im going to admit that there was about a year or so of my life where i enjoyed The Amazing Atheist. I was even subbed to him. I was a nonbinary lesbian (2 things he cant stand lmaoo) in catholic school and therefore i strictly watched his videos about theological stuff since thats what was frustrating me at the time. I had no clue the type of evil racist, transphobic, homophobic (yes ik hes bi), misogynistic things he thought, said, and did, bc i didnt watch those videos. I literally only watched select theological ones that could be of use to me while edgily debating my teachers (sorry mrs macdougal but u had it coming). I was about 15 at the time and im 19 now. Im sorry to everyone i hurt by ever having supported him. I had one of his quotes written in the inside of my religion notebook in high school. I regretted it and ripped the page out the moment i discovered the truth about him. I cant stress enough how much I HATE HIM. Thats an example of what i think happened here tho.

One of my friends who is a trans woman said (paraphrasing) "i think the worst thing shes done is that terf art but i believe the apology especially bc it was a quick drawing."

That being said, i would NEVER argue with someone who wanted nothing to do w vivziepop bc of this. That's their right. 100%. I would never expose them to her work after that.

The last thing i remember is something about a pedophilic couple in a comic but i heard it was a 17 year old and a 19 year old. Im 19 and if one of my peers did that i wouldnt say pedophile but id say ur a fucking weirdo, BUT, the kids were fake and being written by an adult so i can totally see her thinking that age gap is much less of a big deal than it really is. Like she forgot what it's like at this age. Idk how true any of that part is tho, i heard that info entirely secondhand.

Another thing to do with racism is that there's a joke within the show where one character says to the other

"don't get your taco in a twist"

"Was that supposed to be racist or sexist?"

"Whichever one pisses you off more"

I thought that was gross but one of my friends pointed out that vivziepop is of el salvadorian descent so that's her business. Like if i made a lesbian joke of equal or greater offensiveness than that and someone tried to call me lesbophobic over it id be like "that's literally my territory."

Oh speaking of which that character's name is vaggie and shes a lesbian but it's not pronounced w the same G you'd hear in "vagina." Vivziepop seems to name characters weirdly (like how in helluva boss theres a guy named blitzo and the o is silent) so maybe it's a pussy joke but i have no idea.

The animation was.................better than i could do, i wanna say the faces and gestures were good but god i remember there was a part with a car and my gf had to pause so i could laugh my ass off at it. I wouldn't describe the animation as a highlight but i liked the style in motion i thought it was a fun change. Vivziepops style is not appealing imo but i appreciate it as an art student and as someone whose friends all like she ra and steven universe where every character looks the goddamn motherfucking same, and while its chaotic and i dont care for it, the style actually works way better in motion than you'd think.

A good rule that i def use is to assume hazbin fans are guilty until proven innocent. If someone says they dont care about the discourse surrounding it and like it no matter what, RUN! They would support the show even if the creator was in fact a pedophile, or had done the blackface/was a terf herself! They probably support some horrible ppl and are probably "anti antis." A lot of them are minors tho so i'd say block and move on.

So, do i like it or not? Im an art student and all my friends like it so while i didnt think it was funny, i do fuck with it. At the convention this weekend my friends and i had a convo that led to me drawing an ahego hoodie where the faces were angel dust (a character's) face. It was a joke that i could make a killing by selling that in a booth at a con.

Theres really nothing compelling about the show but my friends like it so i join in on their conversations, and i do have a soft spot for angel dust bc he's like a worse, less amazing and gorgeous version of one of my characters, Candy, the love of my life.

A lot of people say the show was edgy/offensive and maybe im just desensitized but besides the taco thing i didnt pick up on that whatsoever??? The Archer episode "Swiss Miss" is worse than helluva boss and hazbin combined and even archer isn't offensive.

Im probably not aware of all the "discourse" (aka people being reasonably uncomfortable by weird and bad shit this random woman has done, and other ppl saying their opinions are wrong when it's literally just an opinion about a show) so if anything she's done isnt included in here it's not to defend vivziepop, this is genuinely all i know. I wouldnt describe myself as a fan of hers.

#hazbin hotel #anon

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kk095 · 5 years

Text

Patient Zero

I wanted to try something a little different. I think this story needs some tweaking, but I hope everyone likes it!

****

Throughout human history, disease outbreaks have caused devastation on a worldwide scale; from the Justinian plague in ancient Rome, to the bubonic plague of the middle ages, to the Spanish Flu epidemic of the early 20th century. With advancements in medicine, we'd like to say we can limit the spread of disease, but there's always an underlying concern of another worldwide epidemic.

Right now, there's elevated concern regarding a new microorganism called African Pneumonic Corynebacterium, or APC. APC is a newly discovered species of gram-negative, aerobic, club/rod shaped bacterium that lives in the proboscis of female anophele mosquitoes, a species known to carry malaria, west nile virus, and other pathogens. This species of bacteria has become troublesome for medical practitioners worldwide due to its antibiotic resistant characteristics and its ability to quickly adapt to changing conditions.

The signs and symptoms produced by APC primarily effect the respiratory and circulatory system, and possess similarities to respiratory bubonic plague and hemorrhagic fevers such as dengue shock syndrome (DSS). Signs and symptoms typically present 7-10 days after initial exposure to the pathogen. Signs and symptoms include: fever, chills, cold sweats, coughing, shortness of breath, pallor, hemoptysis, hypotension, tachycardia, low platelet levels/low tissue thromboplastin levels, blood plasma leakage, and hemorrhages within the lungs/thoracic cavity in severe cases.

CDC and WHO investigations were able to reveal the index case of APC. Both organizations concluded that the earliest traceable case involved a 20 year old American girl named Jessica Martin. Jessica was a tall, thin white girl with wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. Jessica was very active in her church, and was in Nigeria as part of a month-long mission trip. Jessica didn't present with any symptoms while in Nigeria. Instead, she remained asymptomatic until 48 hours after returning home.

Jessica's initial complaints occurred 2 days after returning from her mission trip. Her initial complaints were fatigue and chills, but she attributed her symptoms to jet lag. Over the following 3 days, Jessica's condition grew increasingly worse. Coughing, fever, chills, severe fatigue, and shortness of breath developed, raising serious concerns from Jessica's family. Jessica visited her general practitioner and was diagnosed with the flu, and was unsuccessfully treated for such.

At the 7 day mark after her symptoms appeared, Jessica was only getting worse. She was running a high fever and she started coughing up blood. This prompted Jessica's mom to call 911. When EMS arrived on scene, Jessica was set up on a nasal cannula with high flow oxygen and 2 large bore IVs were set up, with normal saline being hung. Jessica's vital signs om scene were: BP 90/51, heart rate 132bpm, o2 saturation 95%, temperature 103.4°F.

During transport, Jessica was given vasopressors to increase her blood pressure and set her up on a portable heart monitor. While sticking the electrodes onto Jessica's chest, the medics reported large bruises (purpura) scattered across her chest, and petechia on the right forearm. With that discovery, the medics knew Jessica contracted something more serious than the flu.

Upon arrival at the emergency department, a battery of blood tests were ordered. Jessica's platelet levels were 110,000 per microlitre, nutrophils 20,000 per microlitre, basophils 6 per microlitre, lymphocytes 18,000 per microlitre, monocytes 900 per microlitre, eosinophils 400 per microlitre, ESR 28 mm/hr, hematocrit 21%, and blood culture tested positive for unknown gram-negative bacteria. Chest x-ray revealed fluid accumulation in both lungs, as well as pulmonary and tracheal edema. All of the test results raised a major red flag with the ER team, so Jessica's trauma room was quarantined, an infectious disease consultation was called for, and the personnel that were exposed to Jessica were required to wear additional PPE to potentially limit the spread of the unknown contagion.

The infectious disease specialist was confused as to what Jessica had. The bacteria from her blood cultures had the appearance of diphtheria, but the disease's signs and symptoms were more aligned with dengue shock syndrome and pneumonic plague. The infectious disease specialist decided to start Jessica on a 2 gram drip of ampicillin, and re-draw her labs in 4 hours to see if the medication is working. In the meantime, Jessica was given lasix to expel the excess fluid that was building up in her lungs and in her chest cavity.

Over the next few hours, Jessica began to deteriorate rapidly. She began crying hysterically and coughing up blood. “am I gonna die?!” asked a frightened Jessica as nurses began rushing into her quarantined room. Jessica continued to cough up blood and began having difficulty moving air. Tears rolled down her face as her mouth was being suctioned out. Jessica's blood pressure was tanking rapidly, causing her to shiver from feeling cold. “stay still honey.” One of the nurses said to the terrified young woman. A substantial nosebleed developed, and more bruises started to appear elsewhere on Jessica's body. The attending physician ordered 2 units of platelets and 2 units of FFP since it appeared Jessica was thrombocytopenic and on the verge of DIC.

Jessica lost consciousness shortly afterwards, so the team decided to intubate the 20 year old. Due to blood and swelling in the airway, conventional intubation proved to be impossible even after multiple attempts. As a result, it was decided that a surgical airway had to be placed.

Betadine was squirted onto Jessica's neck and a 2.5 cm vertical midline incision was made on the skin just above the cricothyroid membrane. Upon entry into the neck, a 1cm was made to cut through the underlying cricothyroid membrane. The scalpel was inserted into the incision area and turned at a 90° angle to create an adequate opening in the trachea itself. A size 5 tracheostomy tube was placed into Jessica's newly created surgical airway. The tube was held in place with a white cuff, and an ambu bag was attached.

Shortly after tube placement was confirmed, Jessica's oxygen saturation continued decreasing, so it was decided that bilateral chest tubes would be placed. Both chest tubes drained straw colored fluid with a red tinge to it, likely blood plasma, exudate, and trace amounts of whole blood. The tubes drained the fluid and her o2 saturation increased, but her BP and heart rate remained abnormal. Some of the fluid was sampled and sent off to the lab for additional testing.

Jessica's oxygen levels improved slightly, but her overall condition was deteriorating. Jessica's antibiotics weren't working, so she was given vancomycin, and additional units of platelets, FFP, and fluids were given. The team decided to get the CDC and state department of health involved since they didn't quite know what pathogen they were dealing with.

While waiting for the CDC and department of health officials to arrive, Jessica's condition gradually continued to worsen. One of the nurses paged a rapid response since Jessica's BP was dangerously low. The quarantined room then became filled with doctors and nurses in the coming minutes. Jessica developed new ecchymotic marks on her thighs and neck, showing that her platelet levels showed no signs of increasing. The tracheostomy tube was becoming clogged with exudate and blood plasma leakage, so the tube had to be suctioned out to keep the girl's airway intact. Moments after the tube was cleared of obstructions, Jessica became pulseless, converting to ventricular fibrillation.

ACLS protocol was initiated immediately. Deep, vigorous chest compressions were performed, the defibrillator pads were stuck onto the girl's bare chest, and the first rounds of epinephrine and atropine were injected intravenously. A 250j shock was delivered after a cycle of compressions. Jessica's body jolted violently on the table as the electricity raced through her dying body. The monitors continued displaying V-Fib, so a 300j shock was delivered after a cycle of CPR and ambu bagging. The 300j shock was just as ineffective as the first shock, so resuscitation efforts went on.

Jessica received harsh chest compressions, forcing her frail, skinny chest to cave in and her belly to bounce outwards. The heart monitors showed pulseless electrical activity, so CPR was the only course of action at that particular time. It took 4 minutes and another round of drugs to convert Jessica back to a shockable rhythm. The defibrillator pads were charged to 360j and a shock was promptly delivered. Jessica's feet kicked up just above the table, slamming back down a second later, showing off the prominent wrinkles throughout the soles of her size 9 feet.

ACLS protocol continued as Jessica went back into PEA after the unsuccessful shock. Her chest was being ravaged by the violent compressions the nurses delivered. A few of Jessica's ribs were broken, so there was swelling, redness, and bruising starting to form over the center of her chest. The tracheostomy tube started to fill up with blood, pus, and plasma leakage, blocking her airway once again. The breathing tube had to be suctioned out again, and she developed a sudden nosebleed. While the tube was being cleared, her IV ports started to fill with blood. The 6th units of platelets and FFP were hung, but it appeared Jessica was in full blown DIC.

Since the IV sites were compromised, an IO was drilled into Jessica's left tibia so drugs could still be administered. The next round of epinephrine and atropine were pushed, and the 1st round of bicarb was given. Larger amounts of blood leaked out of Jessica's nose, oozing down her cheeks. Her complexion was ghastly, her lips were pale, and she was cold to the touch.

Jessica's airway became almost impossible to maintain due to the large amounts of blood in the breathing tube. The suction made a slurping sound as it sucked up the copious amounts of blood from the dying girl's airway. While that was going on, Jessica just laid there motionless on the bed with her chest being pummeled repeatedly. Her head bobbed and her feet swayed slightly in sync with the compressions. The team continued their efforts, but Jessica's pupils were fixed and dilated and showed no signs of improvement. After 2 more shocks and 5 minutes of CPR, the team terminated their efforts and pronounced Jessica dead at 2:14pm.

The monitors were switched off and the ambu bag was detached. All of the electrodes and defib pads were removed and placed into a biohazard container because of the infectious disease Jessica carried. A toe tag was placed on the big toe of Jessica's left foot. Lastly, Jessica was placed into a special body bag and left in the quarantined ER room. The doctors and nurses slowly but surely left the room, disposing of their used PPE in red biohazard containers and washing their hands with special antimicrobial soap. As a safety precaution, all of the staff members who were exposed to Jessica were injected with immunoglobulins.

About 45 minutes after time was called on Jessica, the CDC and public health officials arrived at the hospital. The CDC retrieved Jessica's body and transported it to a nearby facility to conduct an autopsy and further investigation. The CDC and health department officials also did an examination of the doctors and nurses on Jessica's case, and took their contact information. The CDC wanted to follow up with them over the following weeks to make sure they didn't contract the disease.

Jessica's autopsy at the CDC lab confirmed that she died from an APC bacterial infection. Blood and tissue samples were taken for the purposes of research, and stored in a sterile, underground facility. Little did we all know, Jessica was just the first fatality of the APC epidemic. How many more will perish before we find a successful treatment?

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skeletaldecay · 4 years

Text

I am still her mother.

Stillborn feels like a dirty word. No one said the word stillbirth until I was discharged from the hospital. It was only in passing as they gave me papers about it. We knew it was possible that Mercy could pass before she was born. My mind never recognized the possibility. When I was admitted to the hospital, she was alive, inside of me. My cervix had dilated but I hadn't gone into labor. There were three possibilities. 1. I would go into labor and my daughter would be born alive and pass shortly after as she was too young for interventions. 2. If I didn't go into labor for at least 3 weeks, my daughter would be born alive and we would try our best to save her. 3. If my daughter passed, I would be induced and she would be stillborn. I made it 11 days before my daughter passed. I had 5 days left before they would administer steroids to bolster Mercy's chances to survive. 7 days until she would be considered viable if she was born. If she had been born alive, even at 22 weeks like she was, NICU had promised to evaluate her and try to save her if they could. Instead there was no chance for NICU to try. As dilated as I was, the membrane that held the fluid cushioning my daughter was vulnerable. It developed a tear that opened the possibility of infection. Bacteria from my vagina spread to the amnotic fluid, my placenta, and my precious daughter. Mercy's undeveloped immune system didn't have a chance against the infection. I watched desperately as the nurses and doctors and ultrasound tech scanned my daughter's body for her organs, searching for a heart beat that was gone. My little girl was gone. There was nothing to be done. I never went into labor. My cervix had fully dilated on its own. Mercy, my daughter, she was ready, her head already sat in the opening of my womb. There was no need to induce. Her birth was relatively easy. I was able to bring her into the world with a handful of pushed. It was relatively painless. She was still so small. Not even a pound. She had always been an easy baby. My 'morning sickness' had been two weeks of vague nausea. I never vomited. Only a few mild food aversions. Her heartbeat had always been strong. I gained weight slowly and steadily, right on schedule. She cooperated during the anatomy scan, and we marveled as we watched her move on the screen, strong and we'll developed. My boyfriend cried with joy when we learned we were expecting a daughter. There was nothing wrong with her. There was nothing wrong with me. I wasn't sick, my blood pressure was fine. My heart and lungs strong enough to support her. My cervix wasn't short. Somehow, my cervix dilated to 6 centimeters. We don't know why. Maybe preterm labor, but I never felt contractions. Maybe my cervix just wasn't strong enough to hold her. We don't know. We dared to dream of what our daughter would become. We dared to dream of being parents. When I was 16, I was diagnosed with primary amenorrhea (menstrual cycles that never started) and polycystic ovarian syndrome (a hormone imbalance and one of the leading causes of female infertility.) The doctor told me my PCOS might go away after I had a child. I asked if I could have a child. She said, "you have plenty of time before you get there." I was prescribed birth control pills to regulate my cycles. They made me suicidal so I opted not to treat the hormone imbalance. At 25, I went to a different doctor seeking birth control. I asked if I could have children. Again I was told, "oh honey you have plenty of time before you get there." I told her hormonal birth control made me suicidal. She prescribed me a low estrogen pill. I spent 3 days in a psych ward for suicidal tendencies. When I went back, she offered me the arm implant. I declined. Not long after, my 'biological clock' so to speak screamed for a child. I wanted to be a mother. I convinced my boyfriend we could try, or at least let nature take its course. I tracked my cycles, all of them far too long to suggest I ovulated. Three years of wishing, hoping, trying. Three years of staring at dozens of pregnancy tests, willing them to turn positive. They never did. Years of hating young children that I couldn't have. I grieved. I made my peace with it. I moved on. I never went back to birth control, why bother? I didn't need it. My body wouldn't produce the eggs necessary for it. Then came the positive test. I felt weird. I feel weird a lot. My cycles are weird. We weren't trying. In fact, we barely had sex at the time. I took a test on a whim, expecting the same negative result. But it wasn't. Immediately the test turned positive. I took another. Positive. I told my boyfriend. We panicked. Then we were over joyed. The first three months I lived in terror that I would lose my pregnancy. PCOS comes with high risks of early loss. I didn't miscarry. My baby was strong. I began to trust that the impossibility of her existence meant she was supposed to be here. I took joy in her kicks and punches, the stretching of my belly, my cravings. I cried over everything, and I accepted it. I loved her. I loved having a life growing inside of me. It was so impossible that it existed. But she did. She existed. She was my miracle. She was mine. Six days after my ultrasound. Six days after discovering her gender. Naming her, Mercy Mae June. Planning my baby shower. Dreaming of her life. Six days after being told my baby was developing perfectly, my personal hell began. The hospital believed I would lose her immediately. But we fought hard. Every day brought us closer to viability. Again, I lived in fear of losing my baby girl. I forced myself to focus on my dreams of watching her grow up. It didn't matter what I had to do to make that happen. Mercy is worth it. Mercy is worth anything. I laid on my side, only getting out of bed to pee for 11 days. I had injections of blood thinners in my stomach every day to prevent blood clots. My arms soon became a collage of bruises from IV sites and blood draws. Mercy is worth it. My little girl's heart beat stayed strong. No matter what bad news came, she stayed strong. She's worth it. Even when I had to have a catheter, it was worth it for her. She's my miracle baby. I couldn't give up on her. I cherished my new stretch marks, signs she was still growing. Maybe she would be born too early. Maybe NICU couldn't save her. If things went wrong, I would at least see her alive. I would hold her as she died. I didn't know how I would survive that, but I would. Then she was gone. I would never see my baby alive. But I wouldn't have to watch her die. I tried so hard. We were so close to safety. Only a few more days. I just wanted to bring her home. The hospital staff from the moment I was admitted only spoke of the next pregnancy. What we would do to save the next baby, until I screamed at them to stop. No one had hope for the baby that at the time was still growing inside me. But as long as she was still here, we would focus on her. When she died, I was told over and over that there was no reason I couldn't have another baby. Like it would be so easy. I tried to tell them how hard it was to get my little miracle baby. No one listened. I don't know how I got pregnant with Mercy. I don't know that I could get pregnant again. It was a fluke that I got pregnant in the first place. Then through some fucking freak accident everything went wrong. The chances of what happened to Mercy were so low. We never considered them until they happened. I cried as I birthed my daughter. All I could think of was a beautiful farmhouse with huge meadows filled with all the animals I have ever loved. My baby was strong, but she was so little. Little babies get tired. She got so tired. But Mercy felt safe and loved, so she went to sleep, but she didn't wake up. One day, we'll get tired too, and we will sleep. And when we wake up, there will be the beautiful farmhouse and my Mercy, my first baby, she will be there, and I'll get to watch her grow up. She is my first baby, and she will be the last one I watch grow up. She'll play in the big meadows, and no one will ever hurt her. If we have other children, when they get tired, they will come visit, and they'll get to meet their big sister. I held my little girl, I kissed her face. I rocked her and loved her. My boyfriend rocked her and sang to her. Her grandmother held her and loved her. She looks just like her daddy, she has his dark hair, his nose, his mouth, and his feet. She never opened her eyes but I know she had mine, and my hands. We weighed and measured her. We took hand prints and foot prints. And so many pictures. We didn't have long with her. A few hours. She was so delicate we couldn't wash the blood off of her. We could have had her longer, but we wanted dignity for our daughter, and not to remember her falling apart. The funeral home director brought a soft blanket. I wrapped her in it and told her it was only goodbye for a little while. We would bring her home soon. The funeral home director would take good care of her. I put her in his arms and he promised to take good care of her. We decided to cremate her. So we could bring her home. So we can watch over her. So she can be with us. She's not home yet, and it's killing me. Soon. Soon she will be home. Today, we went to the funeral home to make arrangements. The thing about dead babies is that it's so awful, no one charges you for anything. Not for the cremation, not for the urn, not for the service. That's not just one funeral home. The hospital had a whole page. It's so awful that an industry that makes income from handling the dead, in an predatory capitalist economy, does this for free. That's how shitty this is. The urn that will hold what's left of my daughter fits in the palm of my hand. I am a mother. I have a daughter. My daughter is real. She will always be real. My daughter lived. And my daughter died. Nothing can change that. She existed. I live in a world where she lived and died. She exists and she's real, even if she's dead. And I don't know how to exist in this world. I don't know how to be Mercy's mother without Mercy. She's my baby. I'm her mother, I should be with her. Babies need their mothers, and I can't be there for her. I would have done anything to save her. I would have given my life for her. I would do anything to be with her. I would do anything to raise her. To see her grow up. All I wanted was to be her mother. Instead, I'm here, empty handed and heart broken. Instead, I'm here as a mother with nothing to show for it. In generations before, the infection that killed her, would have taken us both. Instead I spent 24 hours being pumped full of 4+ types of IV antibiotics, and sent home with 2 pills, 3 times a day, for a week that will hopefully keep me from being septic. I can't help wanting it to take me too. I know I can't. I'm needed here. I knew if only one of us survived, it would be me. I can't let go, no matter how much I want to. I hope when I bring her home, it'll be easier because she'll be with me. I can watch over her. Be with her. Even if I'm here and she's waiting for me at the farmhouse.

#I'm still a mother #Stillborn #stillbirth #grief #infertility

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