#like looking at the treatment costs and how fucked our teeth are this is gonna be a lot to get fixed
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debating booking a dentist appointment with a private practice that's got really good reviews that keep mentioning the dentists being really understanding and gentle with patients that have anxiety.
I'm still not sure we can even handle an appointment but at the same time it feels like our wisdom teeth are getting increasingly painful and I'm scared something's gotten infected
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#this is gonna be expensive if we do go ahead with it#like looking at the treatment costs and how fucked our teeth are this is gonna be a lot to get fixed#there's an appointment next week and one at the end of January and I could go with either but I'm not sure#like maybe it's better to just go for it without too much time to think about it but maybe it's better to have more time to prepare?#we probably need treatment sooner rather than later but I'm also terrified of this#I'm hoping that maybe if the dentists are as nice as all the reviews say then we'll handle it better than expected#since a bunch of the reviews describe being in a similar situation to us where NHS dentists fucked people over#there are lots of people saying it's the first time they've felt at ease having dental treatment#and that they have severe phobias that stopped them seeing a dentist for years but that this place was really accommodating#and that's actually helping a lot I think with feeling less anxious about it but I am still really fucking anxious
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Proper treatment
*after exploring a domain*
Aether: hey, are you okay?
Amber: *looking down with a frown and bandaging his arm* me? Of course! *forces a smile* Why wouldn't I be okay?
Aether: you know that's not true, right? You've been frowning the whole day, and it only got worse after the domain.
Amber: . . . *looks down again, and keeps bandaging his arm* it's nothing big really, no need to get worried.
Aether: If it's bothering you then i do have to worry. Come on, you know you can tell me anything.
Amber: *stops bandaging* why. . .do you still bring me along?
Aether: what?
Amber: why do you still bring me to these missions?
Aether: because i like having you around, and you're the best archer i know, so of course i-
Amber: are you an idiot!?
Aether: *shocked* wha-?
Amber: *tearing up* just look at yourself! You're full of bruises and cuts!
Aether: that wasn't your fault, i was careless and-
Amber: of course it was! I'm your partner! I'm supposed to protect your back! But i'm so weak that i can't do anything! Even the weakest hilichurls barely flinch when I shoot them!
Aether: *sighs* so that's the problem.
Amber: *crying* if mister zhongli wasn't around that ruin guard would've killed you. I don't wanna lose anyone else because of my weakness, especially someone so important to me like you!
Aether: you're not weak amber, you really aren't-
Amber: Of course I am! I can barely hit four digits even with critical hits! Baron bunny barely fazes any enemy, and even my ultimate is ignored by anything I try to hit! A lot of people make fun of me because I'm so weak, and I tried to ignore that, but they're right! I'm the weakest of the knights and a failure as an archer!
Aether: amber-
Amber: *wiping her tears* Please just ask fischl or ganyu to take my place, I don't wanna be the reason you get hurt anymore.
Aether: *inhales* . . . . . . *exhales and gets up*
Amber: Traveler. . .?
Aether: I'll be right back. *leaves*
Amber: o-okay. . .
*One month later, at jean's office*
Amber: Did the search parties get lucky?
Jean: *sighs* I'm afraid not, we already searched every corner of mondstadt but there's still no clue about the traveler's whereabouts.
Zhongli: I contacted the Liyue qixing and asked for help in the case, but there's no sign of him on Liyue as well.
Amber: *grits her teeth in frustration*
Lisa: oh my, just where in the world is he.
Kaeya: i bet we're gonna find him sooner or later.
Diluc: That if the fatui didn't find him first.
Amber: *flinches*
Jean: that. . .unfortunately, is a possibility.
Diluc: I know, that's why I already started making preparations to go to Snezhnaya to search for him.
Jean: *eyes wide* a-are you sure about this sir?
Diluc: he put himself on the line to help us many times, i'm just trying to repay the favor.
Amber: Can I go with you sir?
Diluc: i'm sorry, but i don't think you are ready for something like that.
Amber: I know that! More than anyone I know that I'm not ready for something like that, but I don't care, I have to find him! No matter the cost!
Zhongli: it would be wise to calm down, we cannot make any decisions in such an agitated state.
Amber: We don't have time! We need to act now or else we won't find him!
Zhongli: i understand how you are feeling, i'm just asking you to try and calm down a little bit.
Amber: I can't! The only way i would calm down was if he walked into this room right no-
Aether: *kicks door open*
Everyone: *gasps, with eyes wide* Traveler!?
Aether: *with dark bags under his eyes, a few burnt marks on his clothes, hair loose and completely messy, visible mud on his boots and a lot of bruises around his body* hey. . .
Lisa: oh dear, what happened to you?
Aether: RNG, that's what fucking happened. *walks directly towards amber and puts down a backpack* and this is yours. *opens the backpack, showing a large amount of items*
Amber: w-what's all this?
Aether: a buttload of freedom books and arrowheads for your talents, and good amount of dvalin sighs also for your talents. A ton of agnius agates, fire seeds and lamp grass for your ascensions, some extra constelations and an unholy amount of purple EXP books and mora. There's also a full plus twenty witch of flames set with a pyro goblet and a CRIT damage hat, the substats aren't stellar but they're better than most i got for the others. I wished i could've got you a five star bow but like i said many times before, RNG is a bitch, so the best i could get was a refinement five and level ninety prototype bow.
Amber: *speechless* . . .what. . .what's all that for? You disappeared for a whole month just to farm these for me?
Aether: you got sad because you couldn't help me on the field, and that only happened because I neglected you, even though you're my partner and have been helping me since day one. This is both an apology and a fix to that.
Amber: i. . .don't know what to say. . .
Aether: don't say anything, just put those on and if anyone says shit about you again, shoot them in the head, If you don't feel like it just tell me and i'll shoot them myself. You're strong and amazing, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. *pulls her by the waist, giving her a long deep kiss*
Amber: *blushes, but melts into the kiss*
Aether: Now if you excuse me, i'm dirty, my whole body hurts and i feel like i'm gonna pass out at any second, so i'll take a bath and a day long nap.
Amber: *red, and with steam coming out of her head* o-okay.
Aether: Love you, See you tomorrow. *leaves*
Diluc: well, i guess this solves the situation.
Lisa: My, My, how romantic of him.
Zhongli: young love truly is a beautiful thing.
Jean: It does look like something straight out of a novel.
Kaeya: looks like our little rookie has our favorite hero wrapped around her finger.
Amber: *with a massive blush* Please stop. . .i don't deserve all of this.
Aether: *from outside the window* YES YOU FUCKING DO!!!
Amber: *covering her face* i don't deserve him!!!
#genshin impact#genshin traveler#genshin aether#genshin amber#traveler#amber#aether#aether x amber#traveler x amber#genshin aether x amber#genshin traveler x amber#genshin zhongli#zhongli#genshin jean#jean#genshin lisa#lisa#jean gunhildr#genshin kaeya#kaeya#genshin diluc#diluc#diluc ragnvindr
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near death experience - four/billy (smut)
WARNINGS: smut, oral (m on f), orgasm denial, cursing
A/N: I missed writing for ben, so here's a filthy little thing for y'all 👉🏻👈🏻 (18+ only, this is seriously pure descriptive smut) I think this might be one of my fav smuts so far (along with the matt one i'm currently writing 🥵) ++ update: the pixie trailer just came out, i'm right on time aaah
---
"You could've gotten yourself killed." Billy speaks against your lips, his hand cupping your jaw as he backs you up against the wall.
"I'm a big girl, Billy. I was handling the situation." you answer, rolling your eyes at his overreaction. You push him away slightly and free your jaw from his loosening grip.
"You disobeyed an order and that almost cost you your life, Y/N. I don't care if you think you had everything under control. You would be dead if it wasn't for Seven intervening."
"But I made it out alive. Isn't that what matters?" he lets out a sigh before taking a step back, anxiously rubbing his face and running his hand through his hair.
"You scared me to death, Y/N."
You knew Billy was having a hard time separating his feelings from work, and that cost him a great amount of pain when the team lost Six. The younger boy had become like a brother to him, and Billy couldn't bear the thought of losing someone else, of losing you. You can't help but feel bad as you watch him pace around the room.
"Hey..." you call softly, walking over to him and reaching for his arm. You get a hold of his hands and pull him closer to rest your forehead against his. "I'll be more careful next time. I promise."
You only get a small nod in response before his lips are softly pressed against yours. The kiss starts out innocent and sweet but it soon turns into something more needy. Your hands bury themselves in his hair pulling him closer to you. Billy's hands slid up your back as he deepens the kiss. You close your eyes and moan softly as he leads you to the bed and pushes you down on it. He's quick to climb on top of you, his strong arms holding him up on both sides of your head. Your hands move to his chest and travel down until you reach the hem of his t-shirt, one hand slipping under it to trace his abs, smirking against his lips as you do. Billy breaks the kiss to take it off, you doing the same with yours. You prop yourself up on your elbows and lean up to capture his lips in a heated kiss, one hand snaking to the back of his neck as he starts moving his lips down to your neck, causing you to fall back against the pillow with a satisfied sigh. His lips move from your neck to your collar, trailing his way slowly down to your breasts. You hold yourself up on your elbows only long enough to unclasp your bra, allowing his lips to travel over the newly exposed skin. He takes a nipple into his mouth and starts to sucking gently while your hand slides up your body to grab your other breast and starts toying with the nipple, your back arching from the mattress.
"Fuck, I need you." you whine and pull him back up to kiss him, catching his bottom lip between your teeth and pulling it gently to emphasise your point. Billy groans at your words and crashes his lips back against yours, kissing you as if it was the very last time.
"Remember our safe word?" he whispers against your ear, making you shiver. You nod eagerly and go back to kissing him, your hips starting to buck upwards.
With one last kiss to your lips, Billy lowers himself until his head is level to your crotch and begins to unzip your pants. You help him with their removal, leaving you in just your underwear. His lips start kissing up your thighs slowly, getting you ready for him. The prominent throbbing between your legs becomes more and more intense with each kiss and you clench your hands into fists when he finally gets rid of your panties, exposing your wetness.
"So, so pretty." Billy leans in to press a single open mouthed kiss to your clit, causing your body to jerk in anticipation. He looks up at you with a smirk before going back to kissing your thighs, occasionally leaving marks on your skin. You whine, begging for him to touch you.
That's when his mouth finally comes in contact with your throbbing heat. Your hips lift off the bed as the first moans of pleasure slip past your lips. His tongue glides down the length of your slit before moving back up and ending the motion with a swirl of his tongue around your already pulsating clit. He's holding your thighs apart with both hands sprawled across them to give his tongue full access to you, licking along your folds before settling on your clit again, alternating between giving it small kitten licks and sucking.
"Fuck, baby." you whine, one hand clenched tightly in his hair while the other is busy squeezing your breasts. Billy moans against your flesh, flattens his tongue and licks all the way up your folds before covering you with the entirety of his mouth again, his tongue spreading your wetness around, massaging your walls in a way that makes you forget how to breathe properly. A louder moan slips out of you when his lips wrap themselves around your clit, sucking firmly while his tongue flicks over the sensitive bundle. “oh shit, babe," you gasp, you stomach tightening. "'m so close." You shove your other hand into his hair, making sure he stays there while you grind desperately against his tongue, needing a release.
Billy can feel that you're close, and when your moans become helpless whines and pleas he pulls away, looking up at you with a cocky grin.
"No...no, no, no don't stop." you cry out, eyes widening. Your walls clench around nothing and your hips thrust forward as you throw your head back against the pillow, your hands slamming against the sheets to grip them. Your breathing is erratic, and it only gets worse when Billy creeps his hands further up your thighs, holding them in place.
And then he's back at it again, teasing your entrance with his tongue and sucking your clit into his mouth before detaching his lips from you again, making you cry out.
And he does it again, and again, until you're writhing uncontrollably underneath him, body physically aching for the release that he keeps taking away from you.
"Please...please. It hurts." you sob, the throbbing sensation between your legs becoming achingly unbearable.
"Mmm...it hurts?" he teases, the vibrations of his voice only adding more to your pleasure. He waits until you stop moving to lean in and press a single kiss to your clit, his index finger sliding through your folds to apply pressure on it, slowly starting to rub the oversensitive bundle.
"O-Oh, god.” You're close to drawing blood as your teeth captures your lower lip, back arching in response to his touch. His name is leaving your lips in breathless pants now, a loud gasp leaving the back of your throat once he dives back in, his tongue working you just right. Within seconds you're about to cum, but once again Billy pulls away when you're on the verge of orgasming.
"No...no, please." you whine desperately, a few tears wetting your cheeks, your hips now violently jerking upwards. "It hurts. It hurts, please. I need to cum."
"Shh..." he murmurs, placing kisses everywhere but where you need him. Once you've calmed down from your sixth denied orgasm, he wastes no time and dips downward again to repeat the same treatment, flicking your clit over and over again, his nails digging into the soft skin of your thighs as you writhe uncontrollably beneath him, pleading, begging for more, the feeling of his tongue driving you crazy. You feel your orgasm build up again, jaw dropping wide open as he rubs just the right spots, leaving you a moaning, screaming mess.
"You gonna cum for me baby?"
"Yes. Yesyesyes." you moan out, ready to just do that.
He can feel how tense you are, how close you are. He lets go of your thighs and lets them wrap around his head as your orgasm finally explodes, sending intense waves of shock through your body. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, legs shaking violently as Billy continues his assault, letting you ride out your orgasm.
Once you've calmed down from your high, Billy leaves a trail of kisses up your body until he reaches your lips, capturing them in a deep kiss. Your breathing is still heavy, so he falls down on the bed next to you and lets you catch your breath, pulling you closer and planting a kiss to the top of your head.
"Fucking hell." you pant, resting the back of your hand against your forehead. "If this is what I get when—"
"Don't even think about finishing that sentence." he interrupts and you burst into a fit of giggles, leaning up to kiss him again.
#blueeyedben#ben hardy imagine#ben hardy x reader#ben hardy smut#four/billy x reader#four x reader#billy x reader#6 underground x reader#6 underground imagine#ben hardy
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Many thanks to @captastra @strangefable @jumpship90 and @kourumi for your writing prompts from the “touch” meme! They went together really nicely, so I’ve combined them into one fic. I hope you enjoy 😊
the prompts were:
2. Running fingers through hair
16. Massaging them
17. Holding the other’s chin up
32. Caressing the other’s back
34. Washing the other’s body
this is so indulgent to me, it’s sfw but I’m still sitting here like 😳😳😳
tags: canon-typical injury, blood, mention of corporal punishment, bathing kink, lying
Max took forever in the shower. It was a fact of life, a law of nature, as inevitable as gravity. Whether it was a trauma reaction to his time in Tartarus, his determination to prove that if cleanliness was next to Lawfulness then he was the most Lawful person on board, or simple vanity; once he was in there, it was almost impossible to get him out. Nyoka, the newest member of their crew, could pound on the door all she wanted; she might as well be cussing out gravity itself.
So Pearl let him be for longer than she might have, but eventually concern started to nag at her. Max was hurt; a larger than average mantis had caught them unawares while they were scavenging the canyon that lay outside of Stellar Bay. They’d all been left worse for wear, but Max had taken the brunt of it, and he’d staggered back to the Unreliable with his face pale, swearing through gritted teeth as he clutched his arm to his chest in the position of maximal stability that signified a fracture or worse. He might need her help. After a few cautious knocks on the bulkhead, followed by a few less cautious, Pearl used her Captain’s override and pushed inside.
Max rounded on her like a wounded animal cornered in its lair. Shirtless, his injured arm strapped against his chest, his other hand held his razor. His jaw was still more than half covered in shaving foam, and she could see a fine thread of bright red blood trickling down the skin of his throat.
“Yes, I am still using the bathroom! Architect forfend someone on this ship might actually possess any standards of decency…”
Screw him.
“Mind you don’t cut yourself,” she snarled back, and left him to his own devices.
Around five minutes later, as she lay on her bunk scanning through an old data pad, there was a knock at the door. Max stood in the gangway, his towel draped around his neck, a sheepish expression on his face.
“I apologise… and I would appreciate your assistance, Pearl. If you’re not too busy, of course.” His tone was courteous, but his face was tight and drawn, and she knew he must be in pain despite the strapping.
“Any time, Max.”
In the shower, she took the towel and the razor gently from his hand and set them on the sink, then turned to face him. His shoulder was bruised an ugly purple and red, fading to deep brown beneath his collarbone where it was dented and distorted. It looked sore as hell, and Pearl sucked her breath through her teeth in sympathy.
She pushed him gently back until he was sitting on the toilet, then took his canidfeather brush and applied a new coat of lather to his face. She shaved him with slow, even strokes, pausing occasionally to grasp his chin and tilt his head from side to side and then back so that she could check her progress. Max looked throughout as though he wanted to say something, but as in love with the sound of his own voice as he was, he kept still to avoid injury.
When she was done, she wiped his face clean with his towel and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Max got to his feet and shuffled toward the shower
“Of all the damned bones one might break, this has to be the worst… I can scarcely do anything by myself,” he grumbled.
“It’s the most commonly broken bone in the body,” Pearl replied mildly. Max had hang ups about injury, about physical weakness. He took it as a sign that he was straying from the path; or worse, that his path lead to destruction. Pearl knew because she’d been raised that way herself. Those who were meant to survive, survived.
That was how her job had worked. She’d treated those whose benefit to their corporation had outweighed the cost of their treatment. Of course, ultimately it was down to the Plan who survived and who didn’t, the corps were kind of a middleman, but the OSI said that was ok because the corps being in charge was down to the Plan too. It was a whole system based on a lie so obvious she couldn’t understand how she’d once believed it, or how so many people still did. Including the man in front of her, who was self conscious about asking for help when he’d broken his collarbone.
She locked the door, unfastened his pants and eased them down over his hips along with his shorts. She made a neat pile of his clothing, then reached for the sling that held his arm.
“You want to take this off or keep it?”
“I’d rather it remain dry.”
“Ok… you ready?”
She let Max brace himself, with his good arm supporting the other, then gently released the sling and added it to the pile. Max flinched, but nodded when she glanced at him. Pearl activated the shower, sending warm water streaming down over his body. She smiled at the sight of him. His hair fell forward into his eyes, and he gave a deep sigh of pleasure.
Pearl stepped back and frowned. It was going to be tough to wash him properly without getting herself soaked in the process. And Max hadn’t been able to shower for a few days, which would have been a torment to him. If she was going to do it, she ought to do it right. Besides, it wasn’t as though they hadn’t seen each other naked before. She undressed quickly, adding her clothing to his own, then bent to pick up the soap and the washcloth. Max’s eyes were wide, and whatever he’d wanted to say before seemed to have gone from his mind entirely. He saw that she was watching him, and hurriedly looked away.
The air was warm and steamy; the water pleasant on her skin. She soaped Max’s shoulders, his chest, carefully avoiding the injured area, then worked her way down his arms. His muscles were tight beneath his skin, and she dug in a little and squeezed, working out the knots in his body. He had thick, strong fingers that were just long enough to be elegant, she thought as she washed his hands. She went to her knees to do his legs, and noticed that his cock twitched a little, but when she looked up at him his eyes were closed, and he seemed quite lost in the moment.
“Spin around,” she said, getting back to her feet. Max frowned, and he once again avoided meeting her gaze.
“I’ll be fine now. Thank you.”
“What? You’re kidding. There’s no way you can use that fancy stick with the sponge on it… I’ll do your back, I don’t mind.”
Max gave a pointed sigh and turned, but she noticed the droop in his neck, the way he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Strangely, he looked frightened.
His broad back was a lattice of scars, and Pearl brought her hand up to her mouth to avoid gasping or otherwise making a sound.
“I haven’t seen it in a while… is it still as bad as I remember?” Max said bitterly.
“They did this to you? In prison?”
“Where else? I can’t remember what I did to earn it. I was hardly a model prisoner, not at first anyway.”
“It’s just scars, Max. You’ve got those grazes on your chest, some on your legs… it’s not that different.”
“It is different,” he hissed. “Because they broke me.”
“They… broke you?”
Max looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You were in prison for heresy, right? And look what you did as soon as you got out. You went straight after the journal, just as heretical as you were before. They didn’t break you.”
On impulse, she hugged him. Her arms around his waist and her chest against his back, both of them slippery with soap.
“You’re stubborn, Max. They could drop Groundbreaker on your head and you’d get up and keep right on going after the Equation.”
He laughed, a sound that was rare and delightful in its rarity, and relaxed beneath her touch as she ran the cloth over his back.
“You have a way with words, Pearl. And you may have a point. Nevertheless, I must ask that you don’t tell the rest of the crew.”
“Your secret’s safe with me… now sit down for this last part.”
Max settled himself on the tiled floor, bracing with his good arm. He leaned back against her legs, a pleasant sensation with his warm wet skin and the solid weight of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, rinsing out the worst of the sweat and the dust, then reached for the elegant glass bottle she’d had her eye on ever since the first time she’d set foot in his cabin.
Max’s voice carried a tone of warning. “That one’s expensive, you only need a purpleberry sized amount - a fucking purpleberry sized amount, good Law!” Pearl laughed and ignored him, pouring the rich, sweet smelling shampoo into her palm. She lathered his hair, breathing in the scent of lavender and nearmint and Max. His hair was thick and soft, and he groaned in pleasure as she alternated between running her fingers through it and massaging his scalp.
When he was clean from tip to tail she helped him to his feet, let the water rinse over him. Finally, with a nod that mixed pleasure and regret, he was done. She towelled him off and helped him dress and reapply his sling, ran a comb through his hair. She doubted it was to his usual standard, but it kept it out of his eyes.
“Good as new, Max. So listen… our field guide, Nyoka, she’s got something she wants to do that she needs a crew for. If we help her out, she’s gonna give us a big discount in return. So I figure we do her thing, let you rest up, then once you’re all healed we can head out. I’ll find my broker, you can find your… scholar.”
“My scholar,” Max murmured. He took her hand, and for a moment Pearl was again convinced that he was going to say something, but instead he squeezed her tightly. “Thank you, Captain.”
#the outer worlds#vicar max#maximilian desoto#vicar max/the captain#captain Pearl jenkins#prompt fic#my fic#the outer worlds fic#it’s called ‘most commonly broken’ cause I’m a pretentious fuck
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All I Know Is I Can|Mortal Kombat|Cassie Cage x Platonic!Reader
A/N: Hey, I have an inkling of where this is going, but its not 100% set, so if there’s a direction you think it should go in, i’m all ears. Seriously...message me, I’m lonely.
I would like for there to be a love interest eventually, but i don’t know who it’ll be yet
Warnings: Angsty, mentions of abuse, mental health...if the way asylums treated their patients in the 1930s freaks you out then you should probably stay away.
Word Count: 1560
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Cassie’s cell phone rang as she was getting ready for a training mission with Jacqui, Takeda, and Kung Jin. ‘Who the fuck even makes phone calls anymore?’ She thought to herself as she answered it.
“Cassie Cage.” she greeted.
Whoever was on the other line was panting furiously. Their breath and voice came out raspy. “It has to be you.”
“What? I think you have the wr-” Cassie started but was cut off when the person’s soft, womanly, voice cut her off.
“It’s Shinnok. He is going to poison the Jinsei!” The voice seemed truly frightened of what she was telling Cassie. Cassie could hear the terror and desperateness in every word she was hearing.
“Who is this?” Cassie more demanded than asked.
“It has to be you to fight him. No one else can defeat him.” The voice instructed.
“Okay, Crazy Daisy.” Another, man’s voice, came from the other end of the line.
“No! No!” The unknown girl cried, and it sounded like she was putting up a fight to stay on the phone. “It has to be you Cassie!” She all but screamed before the line died. Cassie looked at her phone to see which number had just called her. It was just a random set of numbers that she didn’t recognize. She closed her phone and made a mental note to look it up later.
///
After Cassie’s defeat of Shinnok she was even more interested in finding out who that number belonged to, but she never made anything of it. It wasn’t until, years later that she had a random flash of the memory that she had a stronger desire to find the person. After getting into the intel system and running the number she found that it belong to a mental hospital on the other side of the country. She furrowed her brows together. How could someone on the other side of the country know anything about what they were doing here at Special Forces? They always kept their missions on a need to know basis. And leaking information held heavy consequences. But whoever it was that called her knew what was going to happen before even SF intel did. Was that even possible? Hell, whoever was on line knew that Cassie was gonna be the one to fight Shinnok before even she knew. Cassie decided to take Jacqui with her on a ‘road trip’ to find this person.
///
Your episodes looked similar to someone who suffered from epilepsy. You curled over, usually back wards and fell to the floor. Your whole body shook while you struggled to breathe. You usually blacked out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Everything contorted - except your right arm. Your arm extended outwards while your fist shook furiously. Afterwards you were left with images in your head of something that hadn’t happened yet, but was sure to in the future. What only you knew was that if someone put a pen in your hand during these episodes, your hand’s tremors caused you to behave like a printer - each line your shaking hand made was just a small component to a bigger picture. An actual picture. Sometimes several.
///
You sat in your windowless room, in the corner, on the floor, and waited, slowly rocking yourself on your knees. Anything for some kind of comfort. Ever since you escaped your regular room and high tailed it to the office, punched out an office assistant and made a phone call to the Special Forces, you had been placed under high security lock down. Other than the times when you were let out to go to the bathroom, and when they opened the door to give you your food, the only times you were let out and saw the sun was when they were taking you out to undergo testing.
Testing, you swear, made you crazier than your ability did. The doctors’ go to was shock therapy. They always said that they were trying to ‘cure’ you. And they were under the assumption that it was working; after every ‘treatment’ you didn’t have an episode for over a week. At first they tried to go stronger, but that only resulted in you having an episode while you were still on the damn therapy table. So they have been trying weekly doses at a lower strength. It resulted in you not having an episode for several weeks. But while the episodes were painful and not really any fun at all, the shock therapy was worse. So when you finally had an episode it was really strong. It happened at night when no one really checked on you, so no one seemed to notice. It was the same one you had had before that you had tried to warn about.The next day you schemed to get out and get to the phone again. This time you HAD to call Cassie. The world depended on you reaching Cassie. You didn’t care what the consequences were, you had to get to a phone.
You were relieved when you managed to fight the administration workers and get to a phone. You dialed the number you saw during your episode and were elated when Cassie actually picked up the phone. You all but screamed your information at her. You continued to try to tell her while you tried to fight off the security that had come for you.
“Okay, Crazy Daisy.” They called you, which made you angry beyond belief and caused you to kick one of them in the balls for it. Then the other grabbed you and you tried to continue the warning you were trying to give. But they yanked you so hard that the cord from the phone was ripped out of the wall.
The punishment for what you did made them give you shock therapy everyday for a month. During this time, you tried your hardest to suppress the episodes. You tried your hardest to be normal. To be nice. In time, it won you back a cell with a real bed. A cell that you could see a window from. They even gave you a small notebook and a pen (both of which you kept under your new mattress). And visitation rights, should someone actually come who wanted to visit with you...it hadn’t happened yet, but just having the possibility made you happier.
The only trouble was that it was getting harder and harder to suppress the episodes. You tried to time them so that they were in the dead of night and in between guards rounds. So far it was working.
///
‘Crazy Daisy!” One of the security team got your attention from your cell. You hated that name so much. You swore that some day you were gonna cut those mens’ tongues out. “You got visitors.” He informed. You looked confused at him. You had never had a visitor in all the time you’d been sent to this place. Years and years. And you hadn’t seen any visitors during any of your episodes. So you were supremely suspicious. You got up and left the cell with the man to the visiting area.
The room was empty except for two young women. One fair haired and skinned. The other dark hair and skinned. You recognized the fair haired girl immediately.
“Cassie?” You asked as you entered the area. The two girls didn’t move from the table they were at, only eyeing you suspiciously. You warily came and sat down with them. It was silent. No one said a word. It was too tense, so you tried to cut the tension.
“So i’m guessing you beat Shinnok.” You said bluntly.
“How did you know that?” Jacqui asked aggressively. You looked down at the table.
“I don’t know how I came to be able to see. All I know is that I can.”
“Jacqui, she is clearly an ally.” Cassie said putting a reassuring arm on her friend to tell her to ease up. “She didn’t have to tell us anything. But she did. I’m guessing at great personal cost.” She assumed eyeing the state of the place and the demeanor of the guards and administration when they had first got there. You looked down. It was a great personal cost. Memories of biting the leather strap between your teeth for your life as electricity painfully surged through you ran through your thoughts. Both Cassie and Jacqui watched you sympathetically. Then Cassie pulled her phone out and made a call.
“General Cage here,” she greeted whoever was on the other line. “Bring back the chopper with room for one more. We have a new member on our team.” She said and your eyes opened as wide as they could and your jaw fell as the shock of what she had just said got to you. Was she bailing you out of here? No. It couldn’t be. It was too good to be true.
“You got stuff to pack?” She asked you. You looked at the ground, embarrassed, shaking your head. You had nothing except the notebook and pen in your pocket. They made it clear when you came to this place that you were nothing, and so you shall have nothing. Cassie nodded and then Jacqui and she pulled out their guns.
“Alright fellas, we’re gonna take this patient off your hands.” Cassie instructed. Everyone put their hands up immediately. They could all be dick bags to you, but the second a gun was waved around, they were all huge pussies. You smirked at all of them as you walked passed them, following Cassie while Jacqui closed up the rear.
And that is how you came to live at Special Forces.
#Mortal Kombat#mortal kombat imagine#mortal kombat x reader#cassie cage x reader#cassie cage imagine#Cassie Cage#jacqui briggs#jacqui briggs x reader#jacqui briggs imagine
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8.
They stayed at Chris' art studio inside his penthouse, for a few more hours kissing––– long kisses; kisses that left them both catching their breaths. Kisses that left them both wanting more. Kisses that left a throb between her legs, and a deep ache in his loins. Touching and pushing each other towards the edge wanting to see who would cave in first. It brought out another side of Chris; a carnal being that Robyn knew existed, but couldn't fathom without actions speaking for themselves. Driving him to say sexual remarks like, "If I can make you smile every morning, imagine what I can do to you at night." Passion is a key component to a relationship, and with how obviously smitten they both were with each other, it wasn't a problem for them. Although they wanted to take that step, they decided to wait and when it was the time it'd be a night to remember.
-
Like usual, Chris was on the lookout making sure the coast was clear for them to sneak back in. Although everyone knew they were together, nobody knew they left the hospital at night because they weren't supposed to. It was assumed they just spent time in each other's room, so there was no need to check on either of them. When Chris felt like the coast was clear, he grabbed Robyn's hand to lead her to her room. It seemed like it would be another night successful until they heard a voice.
"Hold it right there you two."
They froze and turned around slowly to see the hospital security guard smirking at them shaking his head. "You two think you're so slick, huh?"
"We just went out for some fresh air." Chris said
"Yeah, right. Tell that to somebody that doesn't know you, Chris. Come on head back to your rooms you two you'll see each other later after I tell your doctor."
Chris groaned and gave Robyn a hug before dragging himself back to his room. Robyn giggled at his reaction before going inside her room.
They didn't get in trouble just made aware they had to be more careful because Mesothelioma was fatal so whatever activity they partook in, they would have to be cautious. Their doctor understood how stressful being cooped up in a hospital 24/7 could be so he let them off the hook. He did, however, provide them with some good news. Seeing how inseparable they were, he decided that Chris could move into Robyn's room in the morning so they could be closer. Robyn and Chris both shared their gratitude before he left for the night.
Robyn sat back and thought that it was odd their doctor was concerned about the cancer being fatal seeming as though their diagnosis showed it was light. It was true that they had it, but if it was light, and they were receiving treatment daily why was there concern? She couldn't wrap her around it and felt there was more to it than what was being told. Shrugging, she decided to leave it alone and not worry so much about it. Everything was stable so in her mind, there was nothing to overthink.
Robyn felt her phone vibrate and saw Chris sent her a message, which had her doubled over in laughter.
Pooh Bear 🧸😍: Dear Robyn, I am writing this after our date, and I am very sad. I found out you snitched on me when it was you who convinced me into sneaking out. I will assume that this was a mistake.
She decided to respond in kind, playing his little game.
Baby Girl 💋❤️: Dear Chris, I'm sorry you're disappointed, however, it was you that actually persuaded me to sneak out and stay out longer. Fondling me in public, or did you forget? Never trust a crooked tooth and a smile
Pooh Bear 🧸😍: DEAR FOREHEAD, your jokes aren't funny. I played your game, and you set me up. This is not ok. P.S. I'm the naughty one, but you're the one that couldn't stop reaching for my dick and sucking my tongue at every corner, or did you forget?
Robyn raised an eyebrow before typing.
Baby Girl 💋❤️: Dear Chris, I see you want to start. See I wasn't gonna say anything about your tooth, but you need to take Terror Squad's advice and have it lean back... into place
Pooh Bear 🧸😍: :( I don't wanna go there, we should never go there. Damn, why you wanna go there? You ain't have to go there
Baby Girl 💋❤️: Aww, I'm sorry. If you want I'll ride it back into place for you 😭 Straighten it right out and make it fall in line with your other teeth
Pooh Bear 🧸😍: Dear Robyn, you are now on my naughty list. Be afraid. You look slow and easy to fuck
Baby Girl 💋❤️: Don't text me with that tone of voice
She clutched her stomach laughing as Chris walked into what would be their room smirking.
"Slow and easy to fuck? Really?"
"Yes, really. Talking about my crooked tooth. I should crack you in your forehead."
Robyn stifled her laughter. "Are you just going to annoy me more now that we're sharing this room?"
"Duh."
Robyn rolled her eyes. "See this is why I ratted you out. You need to be stopped."
"Snitches get stitches, Robyn."
"You ain't gonna do shit, Chris."
"You're right but our kids will when you give birth to them. You will have to get stitches. You will learn then I am not the one."
"And just how many kids do you think I'm birthing?"
Chris licked his lips then bit his lip to keep himself from smiling. "Five."
"FIVE?! With that bowling ball, you call a head?"
"How else am I gonna pin you down?" He winked.
Robyn rolled her eyes despite the grin on her face. "That was so bad. I object."
"Overruled."
"You can't overrule me you're not a judge."
"Talking about my head, our daughter is gonna take after you. Sadly. With that forehead, my poor baby gonna tip over when she tries to take her first steps."
She scoffed. "What about you? You know our son gonna take after you. Megamind head ass. Head look swollen. I can hear your thoughts from here. My poor baby gonna be just as hyper as you wanting to get under anything but his head gonna slow him down."
"Whatever Robyn."
She chuckled. "Come here you're so far away."
He got in the bed with her and carefully placed her on top of him. She snuggled up to him and instantly felt his warmth flood her body. They joked a lot, but it was moments like these that were the best to them. It was peaceful, and nothing could penetrate that peace once it was set. Chris watched as she soon began to fall asleep and it made him happy that she needed him to sleep just as much as he needed her. At that moment he had three words resting on his heart that he wanted to say. He wanted to say it, but he just got her to be comfortable so he wouldn't say it now, but it was only a matter of time.
-
Once Robyn was knocked out he placed her on the bed, careful not to disturb her sleep. He tucked her in and kissed her lips before leaving with another room in mind. He asked a nurse for the room of the person he wanted to see. They gave him the room number after questioning him as a precaution.
He knocked on the door softly before waiting for the person to grant him entry. "Come in."
He came in and closed the door behind him. When he turned he looked back at the woman and being in her presence made him feel comfortable. She was certainly Robyn's grandmother with eyes just like hers with the gleam of life in them.
"Mi been waitin' fa yuh Chrez. Yuh can call mi Gran Gran since yuh already family."
He smiled warmly at her and felt his heart swell at her immediate acceptance. She beckoned him over, and he went over immediately accepting her gesture for a hug. She laughed softly. "Mi see why Anna luv bein' unda yuh. Yuh give di best hugs." He didn't know why but he didn't want to let go. Even though she was frail, her hug was just as comforting to him. She gave him the vibe a grandmother would, and it was obvious she had no problem being that for him.
After a few moments, they finally separated, and Chris grabbed a seat close to her side holding her hand. "Mi heard so much bout yuh from Anna. But mi know mo from de visions mi ave. So much mi ave to tell yuh befo mi pass awey. Mi know it's comin' soon." Chris remained still listening to her speak. He knew she knew things he needed to know that Robyn didn't need to know. Once Gran Gran Dolly passed he would be Robyn's protector and provider and he was ready to take that role. He was filling it now. Robyn was his responsibility, and he knew Gran Gran would be counting on him to keep her safe.
-
She told him what she saw in her visions, and he was thrilled to hear it all. He knew there was a reason he was so attracted to Robyn and everything Dolly was telling him was confirming why. It seemed like she was familiar to him; not her per se, but her heart. The way in which they connected made it as if their hearts were old friends reuniting after being separated for so long. That connection didn't happen often so he knew with something so valuable, no matter how priceless love was, this came with a price. He just didn't know what it would cost them and how much.
-
"How yuh feel bout mi, Anna?" Dolly knew he loved her even if he was telling himself now wasn't the time to make that known. His demeanor gave him away every time she mentioned her and told him stories from her childhood. He was radiating love, and it was all for her granddaughter that she knew when she died she would do so happily knowing she had a man worthy of her love and more than capable of handling her.
"I'm sure you know, but I'm in love with her." He said genuinely. If he had it his way, he'd shout it to everyone who would and even wouldn't listen.
Dolly smiled. "In love, but how so?"
He matched her smile. "Completely, utterly, and ever so madly. She's amazingly beautiful and has the spirit of God in her. When she speaks, it's of wisdom with words of kindness resting on her tongue. Her beauty comes from inside her––– she has a gentle and quiet spirit, but as calm as it is it rocks me to my core. All of that and her mindset will raise my children, so I know God chose wisely and I was wise enough to hold onto her since we first met. I will never know a love like this again. This love is one of a kind. It's special, she's special, and nothing is special without her."
"Yuh feel she can be yuh soulmate?"
"Yeah, of course. She was placed in my life for a reason. It was instantaneous, our connection and you just don't click like that with anyone."
Dolly used her other hand to cover his and smiled once again. "May yuh luv be modern enouf ta survive de times, but old fashioned enouf ta last foreva."
"What do you mean by that Gran Gran?"
She rubbed his hand and gave him an empathetic smile. "Dat is somethin' yuh gon ave ta find out yuhself, Chrez."
-
Robyn woke up and saw that Chris wasn't with her. She blinked a few times to adjust to the light before looking to the other side to see if his bed was here, and it wasn't. Not thinking much of his absence she thought he was in the process of moving in since it was now morning. She stretched and sat up propping her pillow so she could rest against it. She decided to watch TV while she waited for her boyfriend to return. Right on cue, the door opened, and when she was about to greet him, confusion etched all over features seeing who was at the door.
#chrianna#chrianna ff#chrianna fanfic#chrianna fanfiction#chris brown#rihanna#chris brown fanfic#rihanna fanfic
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hewwo! i was wondering if u could pls give me some advice on starting my transition? ive been so scared to start bc of family and costs but ive decided to just. do it. yknow? like if i don't ill probably die lol. u look amazing and rly confident in yourself in all ur selfies and one day i wanna be Like That ✌️❤️
hi! ok, so first of all: yeah, i absolutely can give u advice, and second of all: i remember feeling exactly like you did. it literally wasn’t that long ago, either, it was like. 2013/14/15 (i can’t remember, time is fake, whatever lmao!). third of all: bless u yr so sweet. i still have a lotta issues with confidence (i doubt myself, my talent and what i can do literally hourly), but honestly? i love my body right now. it’s a good, genderless body, goddamnit.
long, long post ahead bc i’m trying to think of things i did and good god please take it with a grain of salt because a lot of this is just me ranting about things i wish I’D done in my own position. i’m also coming from a place where HRT and surgeries AREN’T free, so that’s also A Thing. everyone’s experience is different.
transitioning (particularly medically) really super fuckin varies country by country (and honestly probably even state by state, age by age and fuckin gender by gender because cis people won’t let us fucking BE goddamn): i don’t know where you are, so my only tips there r: find a trans friendly doctor/endo (i was kinda forced to go through a hospital bc That Was How It Was here in good ol’ Australia), and one people wholeheartedly recommend, if you wanna go that route.
my first point is make sure you find safe spaces in every goddamn aspect of your transition. medically, socially, physically. if you think your doctor is refusing you treatment or is discriminating against you, you NEED to ditch that doctor. if your friends and family are really verbally or physically violent against LGBT folks, you NEED to leave that space if you can (or not come out and wait until you can leave. seriously. i’m kinda lucky– my grandma was verbally violent against LGBT folks, and initially my mum was skepitcal, but i convinced them both to go to a group for LGBT+ parents and friends and they slowly turned around). get yourself friends, get yourself allies.
i cannot stress that enough. my first doctor refused to send my referral letter to the royal children’s hospital gender clinic because even tho he presented as a “nice” guy, he believed that because this was “”””out of the blue”””” for me, he figured he’d just Not Send It (and tried to tell me that a lotta kids there didn’t actually helpo, lol). so there i was, a young 15-16 year old alister, waiting like 2-3 months for something that didn’t even get fucking sent.
join trans groups on facebook and in real life. seriously, they’re a godsend; there’s buy-and-sells, advice posts, encouragement posts. ESPECIALLY local ones. most of them on facebook are private, meaning no one can see if you’re posting/in the group, and it’s easy to check if they’re not. these fb pages + local groups are good ways to find trans friendly spaces and doctors. i found my current doctor, who’s actually one of the very few doctors who knows what the fuck he’s on about re: trans people, through a real life trans group. they were like “oh, you should see x”, and even though he’s about 30-40 minutes away from me, he’s brilliant and honestly saved my life.
along those lines: figure out what you want from your transition, and then realize & accept that this may change (and it also may not change!). very early on, i was super insistent that i wanted phalloplasty and to wear packers, and now i couldn’t care less. at first, i identified as agender, and then as a trans guy/ftm, and now i identify as a Black Hole (i’m kidding, don’t @ me). like, a lotta people DON’T change their minds. but i did, some people do, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own what you want to do with your body
(sidenote: this also goes for detransitioning or stopping medical transition but continuing to socially transition/present differently. literally, it’s fine. it’s your body. fuck anyone who says otherwise.)
again: FUCK ANYONE WHO SAYS OTHERWISE.
your body is literally your body. do NOT let anyone tell you what to do with it or who you are. i had people very early on scream at me (legitimately scream and throw me out of home, thanks grandma), tell me i wasn’t actually trans, and harrass me for this shit: but frankly, if i’d put myself back in the closet, i wouldn’t be alive right now. i would’ve killed myself years ago, and i wish i wasn’t kidding. if it’s safe, you need to stand up for your own body and your rights and put yourself somewhere that will allow you to follow through. you need to keep going and keep living.
my only other two pieces of advice are “patience, baby”– like, for real, every single part of transition takes time. this varies from where you are and who’s supporting you, but it’s generally true. it takes time for people to accept new names and pronouns
(lotta people get furious about this, and i used to be one of those people, but hindsight’s a bitch and you gotta realize that… like, it’s hard for some cis people. you gotta give them a little bit of wiggle room, especially if they’ve never ever met a trans person before. it’s about reminders, reminders, reminders: which is SO hard if you’re not safe/don’t have the confidence. there IS a flip side to this though: if chad and stacey have known your new pronouns for months, now, and they keep “””slipping””” up, they’re not slipping up, honey. they’re doing it on purpose. kick their teeth in i’m kidding please don’t do this you know what i mean.)
it takes time for HRT to kick in. it takes time to gather a Look™ of your own you like, it takes time to build confidence to even tell people, it takes time to save up money for surgeries and it just… takes time. sometimes because it’s a naturally slow process, sometimes because cis people are Cis People and like to gatekeep. i remember being very young in my transition, sitting in the car after one of my appointments with the afformentioned shithead doctor bawling my eyes out because he’d told me i wouldn’t be able to access t for x amount of time and it was bullshit. this year i’ll be 2 years on t. wild, huh? there’s a lot of us and not equal amounts of resources (ESPECIALLY in public systems) depending on where you are, so you gotta be prepared to WAIT.
i’ll tell you what super helped me through those years: hyping myself up for other things! i still have the ticket from my first twenty one pilots show. that show meant SO much to me. i cried all through it, because waiting for that show kept my mind off of the wait for my royal children’s appointments (and even waiting to go up to melbourne bc my mum and i would go and get kebabs was a good thing to focus on!). keep things that aren’t trans related on hand (seriously i struggled with this because dysphoria and shit is fucking hard!! it’s easy to say but really fucking hard to put into practice).
(one day i’m gonna tell tyler and josh just how much they saved my goddamn life. i know they hear it weekly, but i will.)
my other thing is that uh. it won’t solve all your problems especially if you’ve got mental illnesses. this is a really fuckin depressing thing i had to drill into my brain, but it really helped. transitioning solved SO many of my issues. i no longer have back issues (thanks, like, literal kilo titties, lmao), i no longer have sore ribs and i can breathe and wear shirts. i lost so much weight (and am kinda gaining it back, but whatever). i no longer have anxiety about whether people can tell i’m binding– which is WILD because i used to stress the fuck out about it to the point where i never went out anywhere. i used to sit on the bus wondering if the person next to me could tell i had titties. now it literally doesn’t even register.
my issues now stem from PTSD, depression, BPD and ADHD. how do you fix this? you don’t. but what HAS helped is finding a therapist who won’t pressure you into talking about trans shit. lemme tell you: this shit gets exhausting after the fifth time of “oh i googled ‘can you become a boy’ when i was, like, nine” (this is my go to story because this memory is so vivid). of course, there’s gonna be moments where you HAVE to: my therapist recently actively asked me to briefly run through it for my PTSD report. but otherwise we literally haven’t talked about it and that is a GODSEND (because i don’t need it. if you need it, that’s good, too!). having a therapist that you can just wordvomit at wrt anything is literally the best thing and can be super helpful– seriously, there were a few trans-related sessions where i just snarled about the bullshit gatekeeping and the bastard i had to see for my therapist letter (oooh, every time i think abt the fact that it was something like $400-500 for two fucking sessions i get so mad lol), but outta 14 it’s really only like 2-3 of them.
but yeah. that’s it. i dunno, these are things that i’ve learnt and sorta… like to think as helpful for myself. of course, this could be different for you: you’re not me, you’re entirely different, in no doubt an entirely different country, social, financial, mental state. i was FUCKED UP when i first came out. i didn’t know that then, but i do now. i spent a lotta time by myself and that’s not healthy, so i really encourage you to reach out to our community, local and worldly, because oh my god, we’re here for you. we are SO here for you.
#long post#sorry if you need this formatted for ease of reading please shout at me. i really word vomited all over this#my transition#trans#anon#asks#iodk what else to tag this as
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Anomalies: Chapter Four
Summary: Anomalies is about different reactions to grief and how four brothers each respond to the death of their mother. The oldest brother, Roman, gets custody of the twins, Patton and Virgil, and the youngest brother, Logan, after their mother`s death. Virgil is also trying to navigate through a multitude of anxiety disorders, including OCD and trichotillomania, with the help of his brothers and his therapist, Dr. Picani. But meanwhile, Roman isn`t sure he can handle the responsibility of taking care of his brothers, Logan doesn`t process loss in a way most people can understand, and Patton isn`t nearly as okay as he seems…
Warnings: Death of a parent, grief, anxiety, trichotillomania, panic attacks, obsessive thought spirals, dissociation, OCD, some swearing, mentions of terminal illness (leukemia), thoughts about death, self-hatred, self-depreciation. For a list of the content warnings for the whole story as well as more information, please see this post. Please heed the warnings and stay safe.
Word Count: 1,808
Notes:
Masterpost to All Chapters
The next Friday, he walked out of Dr. Picani’s office with diagnoses of OCD, trich, and a panic disorder. He managed to hold it together until he got into the car, and then started to cry. Patton, who had come with him again, slid over into the middle seat so he could do both of their seatbelts and then put his arms around his twin.
“This is a good thing,” their mother said as she drove out of the parking garage. “Now that we know why you’re feeling this way, we can work on making it better. Are you okay with Dr. Picani, or do you want to find a different doctor?”
“I’d rather stay with him,” Virgil replied, trying to keep his breathing under control with the exercise that the therapist had taught him. “He--he’s good, I like him.”
“Is he helping?”
“Uh-huh.” Virgil nodded, putting his head down on Patton’s shoulder with a sniffle. “I mean--I don’t know how much anyone can actually help, but...if anyone can, I think it might be him.”
And over the next six months, things did improve. A lot. Virgil actually managed to get the trich under control, and he was passing out from panic attacks a lot less. After a few weeks, he didn’t have anxiety attacks about going to see Dr. Picani anymore. He actually found himself looking forward to it, which really surprised him. He could laugh at the therapist’s slightly ridiculous, over the top cartoon comparisons one minute and then talk to him about the deeply rooted obsessive rituals that he had never told anyone else about the next minute. Some of his eyelashes even started to grow back.
Then their mother had been diagnosed with leukemia, and all of the progress flew out the window.
The night after the confirmed diagnosis was told to him, he found himself in front of the bathroom mirror. He could barely remember doing it, he must have dissociated, but pretty much all of his eyelashes were gone again, and most of one eyebrow. As soon as he realized what he had done, he burst into tears and collapsed onto the bathroom floor with a thud, smacking his arm against the cabinet.
A few seconds later, someone was knocking at the door. “Virgil! Virgil, what was that sound? Virgil, are you crying? Open the door, please, let me come in,” Roman pleaded.
Footsteps, and then Patton’s voice joined him. “Virge?” he said, sounding frightened. “Virge, are you okay? Answer me!”
Shaking so hard he could barely get his hands to cooperate, he reached up and unlocked the door. It flew open.
“Oh, Virgil, honey!” Roman exclaimed. “Oh…”
Patton dropped down in front of him and grabbed his hands. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he said. “What happened? Did you fall? Are you hurt?”
Virgil shook his head. Sobbing, he tried to explain that he had relapsed with the trich. Knowing that he wasn’t making much sense and finding it difficult to put words in any sort of coherent order, he wiped away his eye makeup roughly with the back of his hand.
Patton gasped sharply. “Oh! Oh, Virgil...oh, you should have told me it was bad again.”
“I was doing so good,” Virgil sobbed. “I w-was doing so good, I d-don’t understand, I was t-trying s-so hard! And n-now I f-fucked it all up, I c-can’t...I’m a f-failure, m-mom’s gonna be s-so disappointed, and so is Dr. Picani…” He hit the floor with his fist, wincing at the pain.
Roman nudged Patton aside, saying, “Virgil, let’s get you out of the bathroom. Come here, it’s okay, we’ve got you.” He hesitated for a second, then just scooped the crying Virgil up into his arms and carried him down the hall into the nearest bedroom, Patton’s. He set him down on the bed.
“I’m a failure,” Virgil whimpered again. “And m-mom’s gonna see when she g-gets home from her appointment, and I’m g-gonna have to t-tell Dr. Picani that I fucked up, and I’m so stupid, I hate myself for fucking this up, I--”
For once, Patton didn’t tell him off for swearing. He held Virgil’s hands as tightly as he could. “You’re not a failure,” he said sternly. “Listen to me, Virgil. The...the news we got yesterday, it’s messing with all of us. Logan hasn’t said a word all day, I...I can barely stop crying.” And indeed, there were tears dripping down his cheeks. “It’s scary, Virgil, and Dr. Picani told you that it gets worse when you’re scared or stressed. Remember?”
“Uh-huh,” Virgil managed. “But still--”
“No, no ‘but still’. You aren’t allowed to hate yourself because of this, Virgil. We won’t let you.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Virgil into his arms. “Nobody is disappointed in you,” he murmured. “Nobody is going to blame you.”
Probably drawn by the noise, Logan nudged his way into the room. He gazed at his brothers, wide-eyed.
“Hey, kiddo,” Patton said. “What's up?”
Logan gestured at Virgil and tilted his head.
“He's...he's gonna be okay,” Patton said.
Logan narrowed his eyes and left the room, walking with purpose.
The phone rang suddenly. Roman groaned. “I'll go get it. You got him?”
“I've got him,” Patton confirmed.
Roman ruffled Virgil’s hair as he rushed off to get the phone.
“Pat?” Virgil said in a tiny voice.
“Yeah?”
“I'm really scared.”
“Me, too.” Pat gave him a squeeze. “Me, too.”
Logan came back into the room and held out one of his koosh-balls. It was pale pink, and a little smaller than the blue one he had given Virgil a while ago.
Virgil smiled through his tears and took the toy. “Oh, Lo...thanks.”
The quiet 12-year old hopped up onto the bed, his legs dangling over the side. “The five year survival rate for leukemia is 63% and rising with advancements in treatment,” he said, the first words he had spoken all day. “The probability is on our side for a good outcome.”
“That...that helps, Logan,” Patton said sincerely. “Are you doing okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Roman walked back through the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “That was Mom. She wants us to know that they’re doing more tests, and it might be a while, so don’t wait for her to come home to go to sleep. She says she loves us all, and that she’s really proud of us for being so strong.”
Virgil’s lower lip trembled. He hadn’t been strong.
“I’m really tired,” Patton said, squeezing Virgil’s hand. “Can...can we all stay here tonight?”
“Sure,” Roman agreed. “Let’s all get pajamas. Lo, do you want me to read the next chapter in the book for you?” Logan was, of course, more than capable of reading even very advanced books by himself. However, he also liked being read to, and Roman was always more than happy to oblige, especially if it meant that he got to do character voices. He had just finished reading Logan The Hobbit, and was beginning The Lord of the Rings. Logan had immediately pointed out the flaw in logic with the plot hole that ‘the eagles could have just flown them to Orodruin’. Roman had decided to engage in a debate about realism vs fantasy and plot devices, which was one of the very few topics he had a fighting chance of winning against Logan in. He actually managed to get Logan to suspend disbelief, and now the kid was just really enjoying the novel.
“Yes, please,” Logan said. “If Patton and Virgil are okay with it?”
“I’m definitely gonna fall asleep halfway through the chapter, but sure,” Patton answered.
Virgil nodded his agreement.
Logan and Roman went off to get ready for bed, and the twins got changed in Patton’s room. They went to the bathroom to brush their teeth, Virgil avoiding looking in the mirror at all costs. Then they went back to Patton’s room and settled down on the side of the double bed that was against the wall. Patton reluctantly moved some of his many pillows and stuffed animals on his bed to the top of his dresser.
“Surely you don’t need that many pillows,” Virgil said. “And you’ve got, like, fifteen plushies there.”
“Eighteen, and I love each and every one them,” Patton retorted. “And hey, you like sleeping on a tiny twin bed with about a hundred pounds of blanket on top of you even though Mom offered you a double bed as well. I don’t cast judgement on how you choose to sleep.”
“Whatever,” Virgil said. He had slid down underneath the covers, facing the wall. He was still holding the pink koosh-ball from Logan.
Patton plunked down next to him. “So...how are you doing?” he asked seriously.
Virgil laughed humorlessly. “Well, I’m all out of tears. Is that good or bad?”
“Ohhh…” Patton nestled up against him, sighing. “Virge.”
“No, I…” Even though his eyes were dry, there was a lump in his throat that was difficult to speak around. “Pat, I went almost a month without pulling at all. And then I just completely ruined it. And I hate that that’s what I’m focusing on, and not the fact that our mother has cancer. I just feel like...like I’m a horrible person.”
Patton let out a sound of discontent and wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist from behind. “You’re not a horrible person.”
“Then why am I crying about my stupid eyelashes instead of our sick mom?” Virgil muttered.
“I don’t have the energy to fight you right now,” Patton said tiredly. “So I’m just gonna hold you instead.”
Virgil exhaled softly. “I appreciate that. I don’t want to fight you, either.”
“Good,” Patton mumbled into his shoulder.
By the time that Roman and Logan returned, the twins were both nearly asleep. Roman got through about five pages before Logan was out as well. The oldest brother put the book on Patton’s bedside table and turned of the lamp that was casting a pale golden light around the periwinkle-colored walls of the bedroom. He had left a note for their mom on the kitchen table to let her know why the first three bedrooms she would check on as she made her way down the hall when she got home were empty.
When she returned from the hospital, exhausted and in a fairly significant amount of pain, the sight of her children curled up together, peacefully asleep, brought a smile to her lips. She blew them each a kiss before slipping out quietly, not wanting to wake them up.
Two years later, the four of them were all sleeping in Patton’s bed again. But now, their mother couldn’t come to check on them. She would never return from the hospital again.
It’s been a pretty cloudy head-day for me, I haven’t really been able to focus on much, so apologies for this sub-par end note. Uhhh, okay. So. Hope you guys are having a good Monday! Make yourself some tea and take some deep breaths, it’s gonna be okay. Try to find some reasons to smile, even if it’s hard. Work for three minutes on something you’ve been putting off. Intend to just do three minutes, and you might be surprised by how much more you end up doing. And if you do only do three minutes, then that’s fine! You accomplished a goal! Great job! I’m so proud of you. Keep going strong, my friends. I love you! <3 ~Martin
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Orthodontist Fiasco Gets Fixed
just a heads up, this is gonna get really long
so I’ve always had a problem with my teeth. I have a really bad overbite that pushed apart my two front teeth so wide you could drive a truck through them. It was so bad that I was recommended to get braces as soon as my baby teeth all fell out. So by the time I was 12 I went to an orthodontist that my mom’s friend had spoke well of. The dentist and his staff were pleasant and did their job efficiently. By the time I was 15 (near 16) I got the green light to have my braces removed.
My parents were willing to pay for everything up front. They wanted my teeth to be right. Neither of my parents were able to have much quality work on their teeth when they were my age and they sincerely regretted it. They didn’t want me to be like that.
Anyone who has ever had braces and the subsequent retainers know what’s coming next. The dreaded impressions. Only it wasn’t that bad because the hygienist seemed to understand the basic idea of displacement and just put enough putty in the mold that it was only mildly uncomfortable. During the time that I was getting my retainers set up, the dentist who I had originally started going to was slowly transitioning his practice over to another guy, who we’ll call Dr. Bluff.
Dr. Bluff was very nice and friendly, more so than the original guy. I liked him.
Fast forward about 3 years to now, when I’m 19 and my retainer breaks. It was the bottom one and because of my overbite it threw off the whole system. However, we decided to wait until our next regular dentist appointment to ask what we should do about it. And then we had to push that appointment back because we got sick.
I reasoned that our regular dentist would tell us to just go back to the orthodontist who did the retainer originally and set up an appointment there. We go there (I mean me & my mom since I’m living at home and she’s retired so she can traipse around with me wherever) and as soon as I walk in the office I know in the pit of my stomach something was not going to go right today.
I go back and the hygienist takes a look at my front teeth (which had the gap between them again *SIGH*) and she said 1) she’ll need to take new impressions for my retainer and 2) that Dr. Bluff might want to close the gap before I get my new retainer. I ask her if we should hold off on the impression until after Dr. Bluff has seen it and we make a decision so we don’t waste an impression. She just shrugs and puts the impression tray in my mouth.
Now the thing that should be noted about this particular orthodontist office is that the general treatment area is a big room in the back comprised of five dentists chairs in a semicircle. There is no privacy.
The second she presses the putty against my teeth, it goes down my mouth towards my throat and I start gagging. I’m crying and gagging in the chair and she’s trying to keep me still. After five minutes of hell she finally pulls it out and sends me (and my mouth full of leftover putty bits) over to the communal sink to clean up while i’m embarrassed to hell and blushing like a priest at an orgy.
so i try to mask my light crying and get my mom to come into the back & talk about options on how we’re going to close my front teeth gap. We come up with a solution but it’s going to take two weeks of temporary braces and then another impression for the top. I look at the hygienist, who somehow had the absolute balls to look unfazed.
On the ride home I explain to my mom what happened and she said that she has the same problem re: gag reflex. She said that general dentist work is hell because of it. She tells me to mention it next time. I agreed and added that I would ask the next hygienist to put less putty in the tray so the displaced putty doesn’t trigger my gag reflex. We nod and decide that this is our game plan.
Cut to two weeks later to the day from hell. I had to wake up super early to help my mom take my grandmother to the doctor and after we got that sorted, mom and I went to the orthodontist to get the temp braces taken off and the new impressions done. I wait 30 mins to get called back and then another 15 mins to finally have someone come over and do something. Dr. Bluff takes off the temp braces, grinding the glue off my teeth. Only, as he’s grinding, it’s like he’s oblivious to my very loud grunts of pain. It hurts and it smells and all the debris is either going right up my nose or all over my glasses.
After he’s done I get a reprieve and clean the taste out of my mouth. Back to the chair. I look around and see that they’ve filled all of the other 4 chairs. Oh boy.
So I talk to hygienist that I have a bad gag reflex and I ask her if she could fill the tray not as full because the over-flow/displaced putty/whatever sets off my gag reflex. I joke (but kind of not) that the last thing I wanted to do that morning was throw up on them.
Then Dr. Bluff starts making jokes about previous patients who had puked in the chair. And look, I know that when your job is working in someone’s mouth, puking is going to happen, but at the rate he was mentioning? That’s bad. That’s really bad. That means that there is some fundamentally wrong with what you’re doing.
Impression time! Because I had mentioned gagging and puking they had the tiniest puke bowl known to man under my chin the second the tray went into my mouth. They did this because apparently the hygienist didn’t hear a word I said and filled the tray as full as she could.
The very second she applied pressure to the tray caused the displaced putty to flow out of the tray, down the roof of my mouth, and down my throat. It cut off my fucking air supply. I couldn’t breathe. I was gagging and crying and sobbing and screaming (as well as one can when they can’t breathe). I’m about half a second from blacking out when they finally take the tray out of my mouth- only to have the overflow piece BREAK OFF AND LODGE IN MY THROAT. Cue another five minutes of gagging and crying as they blankly stare at me, trying to figure out what my problem was.
I finally cough it up and they send me over to the sink to clean up. I’m straight up crying and my cheeks are redder than hell and I can feel the other patients’ eyes on me like goddamn bullets in my shoulders. As soon as I can get out of that room I do.
I put on my sunglasses to cover my cry-swollen eyes. The second I walk into the waiting room, my mom knows that something is wrong. I try to hustle the secretaries through making an appointment for the next day to pick up my retainer and I feel like i’m about to die. Mom doesn’t question me because she senses that I Do Not Want To Talk About It Right Here.
So we go down the steps and into the lobby (it’s a second-floor office in a communal building) and before we could even make it to the front door I break down crying. I was fucking hysterical. I was shaking so had my mom couldn’t get a firm grip on me so she could hug me. She makes me take half of a nerve pill which she keeps on her in case of panic/anxiety/nerve attacks. I’m in such a bad state that I can’t drive and I burst into crying fits the entire ride home.
So we get home and the pill’s started to kick in. I’m still really shaken and upset but I’m not literally shaking or sobbing uncontrollably. So I sit and watch some funny videos to calm myself down before I begin to hatch my plan.
I looked up Dr. Bluff and his office on google and on every link on the first two pages of google that had a review function I left a 1-star reviewing detailing my experience. I ended them all by saying that the only reason i would ever go back would be to get my pre-paid retainer and that I was absolutely terrified that I would die in that office.
I sincerely was. I still am.
Anyway. A few hours later, i get a call. IT’S DR. BLUFF AND HE WANTS TO TALK TO ME. He says that he heard that I “didn’t have a good experience today.” He gave a few excuses, tripping over himself to not actually apologize for anything, and then offered to comp the cost of my retainer (which was up to $300 that we paid since we don’t have dental insurance). He only asked that I take down the review (he had only seen one).
But the next day, it got better. We were running like ten minutes late to the appointment and I was freaking the whole time. The second we signed in we got called back. Dr. Bluff invited us into his office and invited us to sit down (we didn’t). He apologized without somehow managing to properly apologize but in the end he comped the cost of my retainer, offer to have a 3D model of my teeth made & shipped to us for future reference FOR FREE, and asked if he could use my review (all versions of which I had since taken down but he had actually saved) for training purposes. I agreed. Mom also made a point of reminding him that he had a lot of younger kids who came through his office and weren’t used to dental work like I was.
To put it in my mother’s words, he was eating crow.
So now, about two weeks later, I’m sitting here with my retainer in my mouth and a dull but persistent ache in my shoulder thanks to the thrashing & gagging that their shitty impression made me do. I actually had to miss a day of work because of the pain. But personally, I think that in end it balanced out.
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TH What Falls and What Grows 16
What would the world be, once bereft of wet and wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet, long live the weeds and the wildness yet.
- Gerard Manley Hopkins
Pain was what woke her, and what kept her from waking.
The blue-black place she was floating in seemed familiar, but her mind was too blurred to recognize it. Some thing pained her greatly, and she began to panic. Irrationally, she thought of the witch-hunts in Germany and in England, where they took the unusual and the passionate and they killed them for their differences.
“I didn’t mean to,” she murmured, falling back on the preferred language of her childhood. “I’ll do better…”
“You have done nothing to incur such hatred,” an echoing voice answered, but she was too muddled to accept it.
“You must stay still,” said a voice, so quietly that she could not heed it.
“Do not let them take me away,” she pleaded. The witch-hunts scared her so badly. What if her village decided that she was too unruly? What if she was hanged for her fights with the boys? What if she slipped up, said something too strange, did something that upset the wrong person, and someone found a mole or a birthmark on her body and took her away, away, away…
“Nobody is going to take you away.”
“She’s insensible...”
“Useless…”
“Stranger…”
She struggled to rise, but found that she couldn’t get up. Her limbs were bound by invisible bonds, and fear flooded her mind in freezing waves. Had they caught her? Had she been stolen? She tried to move again and the bonds only tightened, and just when she was about ready to faint in fear agony pressed into her side, as if the Devil himself was trying to cut out her kidney.
She cried out and flinched as violently as she could, but her entire body was held in a tight grip. Helpless; vulnerable; utterly incapable of defending herself. They’d stab her with knives and claws and teeth, fill her lungs with water and twist her bones with magic and peel her skin away with fire until she couldn’t recognize herself, until she gave in, until she forgot…
…but she never forgot.
The pain was softly fading, and with it ebbed the choking fog in her mind. They may have fought because they wanted to live, to prove their worth, but she fought because she wanted to go home.
The edges of the Void slowly became recognizable, and she dimly considered the fact that it would, eventually, become her final home.
She breathed for several long moments, until she was certain that her voice wouldn’t shake. It did anyway.
“Can’t believe I’m gonna have to spend eternity with you assholes,” she murmured.
The ghostly presence of Kanjigar smirked down at her. She glared at him, and then violently started, jerking against her bonds so suddenly that she felt her limbs bruising.
“Am I fucking dead!”
“You are alive,” said Kanjigar. “Currently.”
“Thank God,” Alexandra sighed, her heart drumming angrily. “’M not ready.”
“You certainly are not,” Kanjigar agreed. “You still have to kill Gunmar, after all, and re-integrate the Changelings into troll society.”
“Lemme end poverty and turn off the sun while I’m at it,” Alex said.
“Arrogance doesn’t suit you, Trollhunter. And you will be needing that sun,” Kanjigar said. With mist still clouding her mind, he sounded even more confusing than normal.
“What would happen to the armor if the sun went out,” she absently wondered. Kanjigar ignored her.
“Your foolishness nearly got you killed,” he said. Alex tried to wave him off, but was forced to roll her eyes instead.
“This is serious, Alexandra,” Kanjigar said tightly, startling her with the use of her name. “There is much to be done, and you will not be able to perform your duty until you are completely healed. Your decision to bleed to death instead of asking for help will cost you.”
“I couldn’t let Vendel see,” Alex said. “I heal too fast with troll medicine.”
Kanjigar only shook his head. “Trust begins with you, Trollhunter. You will never succeed at your duty if you do not learn to trust your mentors.”
“’Thought you’d like seeing me push people away,” Alex muttered cuttingly. “You were certainly good at it.”
Kanjigar’s nostrils flared, and Alex felt a tiny wave of triumph. She was too tired to take proper amusement at his annoyance.
“Heard your son used to date a Changeling.”
Kanjigar just sighed. She saw him getting ready to change the subject.
“’Wonder if he has a type,” she mused. “He sure attached himself to me pretty quickly.”
“Trollhunter – “
Something poked at her injured side again and she winced.
“He’s not half bad, once you get through the arrogance and the daddy issues. We’re pretty comfortable already – it wouldn’t be that big of a push to up the physical side of our acquaintance – “
In hindsight, deliberately angering a powerful ghost while immobilized wasn’t the best plan, but Alexandra was exhausted and slightly delirious with pain, so she could later excuse herself for not thinking straight. Something semi-solid passed through her chest with a cold, throbbing ache, and another slammed through her head with sharp, ice-like shards that instantly gave her a headache. Kanjigar’s glowing fist hovered a half-inch in front of her face before he once again composed himself.
“Rule number two,” Alex hisses, her eyes blurring. You did have a problem with that one.
“You have liberty to care for your son, now that you’re dead,” she whispered instead, clenching her teeth against her emerging migraine. “The problem is, you’re dead. You’ve missed your chance to be a decent father, and you don’t get to be an ass about it when I’m fixing your damage. You could thank me for saving his life, you know.”
Kanjigar turned away from her and floated off, his shoulders tense and his hands clenched into fists.
“Your deliberate misdirections cost you opportunity,” hissed one of the voices of the council.
“Arrogance.”
“Foolish Changeling!”
“If you are to succeed, you must wield the power of the sun.”
“What? Where the hell did that come from? I already do,” Alex said, vaguely flexing her fingers as if to summon her sword. The blobs of blue light that swirled around the ceiling pulsed and twisted among each other.
“A troll cannot use sunlight…”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Kanjigar spoke from just behind her head, startling her with his sudden presence.
“The amulet – “
“Jesus Christ, fuck you!”
“ – Was originally created for a Changeling. How it reacts to you and how you may wield its powers will be different.”
“What do you mean? What different powers? You couldn’t have written this down in one of your extensive diaries?”
“You must discover for yourself how to use the amulet to your best advantage,” said Kanjigar, as calmly as if they had never tiffed. The agony in her side lessened a little bit more as she strained her invisible bonds again.
“You’re being vague on purpose, you dick.”
For a split second his eyes slid down to meet hers, and the tiniest, shittiest little smile etched across his mouth.
“Being Trollhunter is a learning process,” he said. “We cannot simply give you the answers.”
Alexandra felt a stone drop into her stomach as she realized that pissing off the person who could best relate to and help her had actually been a horrible idea.
Getting under his skin for his treatment of her new friend was, however, very possibly worth it.
“Fine by me,” she said. “You assholes give shitty advice anyway.”
Kanjigar, the smug bastard, said nothing, apparently content in the knowledge that he had won this meeting. Alexandra decided that she was too exhausted to care.
“Fuck you for nothing, then. I’m going back.”
She stopped struggling against her invisible bonds and finally let her body relax, accepting the pain in her side as a part of her reality and ceasing her fight against the fear and uncertainty swirling in the back of her mind.
The blue glow of the existential-nightmare-room began to fade, and the weight and warmth of the living world slowly enveloped her body.
Kanjigar watched her settle down, and she in turn watched him fade away. He briefly turned his eyes to hers, and she saw the very ghost of a smile before he and it disappeared.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and then the Void was gone.
Being stuck in bed was awful on a regular sick day, but adding a very unhappy Vendel to the situation, plus a painful injury, plus the fact that she wasn’t on a bed so much as a cold stone slab, just made everything so very wonderful.
Vendel wasn’t half bad company, honestly, when he wasn’t being a dick, but Alexandra had annoyed him and so got the brunt of his temper. He patched her up, tended to her wound daily, but for the most part she was forced to either sleep or listen to him ramble about the finer points of troll society and how exactly, with notes on the precise angles, to cut a gemstone. She learned a lot about patience in those first few days.
Vendel’s trapping stones kept her totally still and she had nothing better to do than wait until she was well enough to move. Personally she considered his precautions to be a bit excessive – surely being able to at least bounce her foot wouldn’t re-open her wound – but the old troll was extremely unsubtle about how much he enjoyed inconveniencing her, especially since it was her fault in the first place.
Blinky and AAARRRGGHH visited regularly, once Vendel had given them the clear-all to sit and drawl on for hours about history, lore, battle tactics, and plans for the Bridge situation. Alex actually enjoyed listening to Blinky’s lectures, but she wasn’t allowed to take notes, since Vendel insisted on keeping her completely paralyzed. Any time that she was allowed up was supervised, which Alexandra could admit was a bit of paranoid precaution that she had brought upon herself.
Draal even took it upon himself to risk the travel through the market, although he had AAARRRGGHH to escort him.
“You really need a bath,” Alexandra noted, looking him over. He was still covered in goblin remains, which had more or less bonded to his skin and stuck unpleasantly between his spikes.
“This is as far as I have dared go,” he responded quietly. She knew that if the members of Trollmarket attacked him, he would not fight back or defend himself. AAARRRGGHH and Blinky couldn’t risk themselves by doing much more than walking him back and forth from the Heartstone to her, now his, room, and she wouldn’t ask them to. Until she either restored his honor or changed troll society, he was hers to protect, and without her by his side he was to be considered an open target for ridicule and violence.
He visited her on the third day, which was when Vendel finally allowed her to move her right hands when supervised. They lay outside of the trapping circle, and although the stones made them slow she still smacked Draal in the arm.
“You said you spoke to my father,” he murmured, apparently unable to feel the tiny blow. His eyes turned to hers and the straining hope in them was almost painful.
“…Did he…speak of, of me? At all?”
“We had a bit of a fight,” Alex said honestly. “We usually do. He hasn’t really talked about you yet. I think that he believes that if he doesn’t say anything about you, I won’t remember you exist. He certainly doesn’t like us being friends.”
“But you are his successor,” Draal replied, pointed eyebrows furrowing. “Surely he cannot disapprove of you, even if you are argumentative and obnoxious.”
“Thanks,” Alexandra grumbled. “He’s not happy about you being close with another Changeling.”
It was the first time that she had admitted such out loud, to an actual living person, and she was very quietly proud at doing it. Draal looked at his hands then, clenched between his knees, covered in gore and smears of dirt.
“But he was happy to see you back in Trollmarket.”
Draal remained silent, but she saw his back relax a bit. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry he had such a terrible father, but the idiot worshiped Kanjigar like a hero, and truly insulting the guy wouldn’t make Draal any happier nor would it make him acknowledge the dead troll’s faults.
“Ah, Master Alexandra! I am glad to see you awake.”
Alex and Draal turned their eyes to the entrance to the Heartstone, where Blinky and AAARRRGGHH were coming around the corner.
AAARRRGGHH dropped a small pile of books next to her one mobile hand and she picked up the first, holding it above her so that she could see it.
“I thought that we might go over properties of the Heartstones, once we discuss what is to be done about the Changeling problem.”
Blinky eyed her in a weird way then, as if expecting her to already have a solution.
“Well, I’m stuck here until Vendel decides to release me from captivity, so if you want to go up and find out yourself what they’re up to, you’re free to do so.”
She twitched the book away from AAARRRGGHH, who was sniffing it with interest. Blinky didn’t bat an eye.
“It could be done, of course,” he said, and from his pocket he pulled an odd-looking wooden mask.
“The means is not quite the issue, but the timing. You are incapacitated for the time being, and we either should wait or send someone else. Likely, me.”
“You look so enthusiastic.”
Blinky chuffed, turning the mask around in his hands. “Quite the contrary, I assure you. But I will endeavor to answer the call if and when I should receive it! Never let it be known that a Galadrigal turned away from a fight!”
“It does not have to be you, Blinky,” said Draal. He reached across Alex and Blinky handed him the mask. “I am currently of little use. Our Trollhunter cannot spar or practice, and I could not teach her anyway with my effective banishment painting a target across my back. I should be the one to go.”
Alex looked between the two, weakly waving her hand to try to get someone’s attention.
“I thought we were discussing this; not deciding already. Either way you would have to go at night, without protection, and you would have to get in and out by yourself and undetected. I think that we should wait.”
Blinky promptly ignored her, still speaking over her chest to Draal.
“But with night fallen, Bular will be active, which will be a terrible danger for whoever goes on top of the risks of Changelings and goblins.”
“Why don’t I just go?” asked Alex. “I’ve got the Leoht Stone, sunlight’s not going to do anything to me.”
Blinky stared at her with wide eyes, as if stunned by such a simple solution. He exchanged a brief look with AAARRRGGHH, and then cleared his throat.
“If that is what you suggest, Master Alexandra, then I see no fault in your reasoning.”
“Great. Now we just need to hope that Bular and his minions don’t cause any trouble for as long as it takes for Vendel to let me use my limbs.”
“Do not hold your breath, Trollhunter,” grumbled the troll in question, the thunk of his Heartstone staff announcing his arrival. “Your situation will continue to be as it currently is, until I am satisfied of your ability to keep yourself out of trouble.”
He slowly trudged past the four of them, shaking his head in a way that Alex supposed was supposed to make her feel guilty.
“For a Trollhunter, at least.”
“Glad to see your confidence in me,” Alex called after him. She clenched her fist, and the one hand she could move was then covered in its metal gauntlet. Vendel had tried to keep the amulet from her for the first few minutes after she’d awoken, until he realized that she was adept at summoning it, even when he put it in an anti-magic box. Unfortunately, she couldn’t summon her armor on the bits of her that were still immobilized by Vendel’s trapping stones, so when she’d summoned the amulet it just kind of sadly bounced off of the lines of light encasing her, settling down as close to her shoulder as it could get. She had the distinct feeling that it could get through the lines if it really tried, but occasionally it decided to actually follow the rules. As much as she wanted to and did occasionally throw it across the room, she had become rather fond of the stupid glowing thing, and not just because it was a literal part of her.
Her mind was still a tiny bit scattered from her painful ordeal and her trip to the Void and all the weird dreams that Kanjigar had been sending her. She wondered if she could make the amulet a literal part of her.
That would be handy.
“What if I ate it,” she mused out loud.
“Ate what?”
Alex opened her eyes, not having realized that she’d closed them. Lying around and doing nothing was exhausting.
“The amulet,” she murmured, deciding to just give it up and settle back down, closing her eyes to the three confused trolls staring at her.
“It would be so much more useful if the amulet wasn’t so much a material thing as a part of me. I could summon it and dismiss it just like the armor.”
“Mm. Interesting, but unlikely. The amulet channels your wishes and emotions through it to give you the power to summon your armor. Taking the amulet out of the equation and skipping the middle-man, as the humans say, would indeed be useful to you, but not to your successor, or theirs. The amulet belongs to you and you alone – for now. But it also holds onto the Trollhunters who came before you.”
Alex grimaced.
“No, thank you. I do not want a part of Kanjigar resting inside of me. Forget the whole idea.”
“You are tiring yourself out, Trolhunter,” said Vendel off to the side. She heard Draal shift to make way for him. Something warm pressed against the patch he’d placed on her side, and a tension she hadn’t noticed eased off.
“You strain your bonds when you speak. Desist, or I will add another stone and make you desist.”
Alexandra didn’t dignify that with an answer, knowing that he would make good of his threat. Talking really wasn’t something that was supposed to happen when one was stuck inside of trapping stones, and he’d only lifted enough off so that she could speak to Draal. But her jaw and her neck muscles were aching from the effort.
She hadn’t felt this useless and weak since her detox year in the ‘70’s, where all she could do for a month was tremor, throw up, and wallow in panic attacks and heart palpitations. At least she could move then.
“Perhaps I should check the tunnels,” Draal was saying, his voice a distant whisper. “It is almost day on the surface.”
“You cannot forget the goblins,” Blinky replied softly.
Their voices turned into blurred murmurs, and Alex didn’t feel it when she fell asleep.
The noise woke her this time, since the Heartstone was most often very quiet. Something outside in the main market was making a humongous racket, with a lot of clanging and shouting.
From the feel of the bonds around her she knew that she was under the full force of every trapping stone Vendel possessed, which meant that her visitors/chaperones had left.
There was an odd smell, a burning smell, and she opened her eyes.
The acid-green glare of Stricklander’s triumphant face gazed back.
And Alexandra could. Not. Move.
“And look what we have here,” he sneered, leering over her like a particularly ugly bat. Another Changeling peered around him, looking exceedingly amused.
“A prisoner?”
“Not one of ours,” Stricklander said, looking over Alexandra’s prone form. “I…oh, but what’s this?”
He reached a knife through the glowing bars and pried the amulet out of her pocket, where it had been pulsing in time with her frantic heartbeat. The glow of it alighted upon his face and he grinned, clenching it in his fist as he laughed in Alexandra’s face.
“Apparently she is. I’ve been looking forward to meeting our Changeling Trollhunter.”
Someone get the fuck in here, Alex thought desperately, trying to make a noise, a movement, anything. The trapping stones prevented her from even summoning her armor.
“Wunderbar,” hissed the other Changeling. “Do you recognize her?”
Stricklander’s eyes roamed disinterestedly over her face and body.
“No,” he said, to her eternal relief. “But there is some familiarity. Unfortunately, a few have fallen by the wayside in the past few centuries. I would not be surprised if she were one of those who have not checked in in quite a while.”
About forty years or so, give or take three hundred. Alexandra had been very careful to cover her human family’s tracks, doubling back to burn records when they first moved, and over the centuries had taken care to either leave no paper trail or destroy any that had been created. Technology and better censuses made things more difficult, but she knew how to establish and destroy an identity. The Janus Order hadn’t known of her location or seen her face since the mid-seventeen-hundreds, when she had last been dragged to a meeting.
“Should we take her back to Bular?”
“No,” Stricklander replied as he fingered his capelet of knives. “She is immobile and stranded here, in the most perfect of opportunities. Bular doesn’t care who kills the Trollhunters, as long as they are dead. We have the amulet in any case.”
Alexandra had never felt such fear and helplessness in her life. Vendel’s trapping stones, once merely aggravating and annoying, now would be the absolute death of her. She silently screamed and screamed for somebody to come, for somehow this to be a dream, for her bonds to magically break, but nothing came. Black started to blur the edges of her vision and white-hot pains pierced her chest, even though she couldn’t even hyperventilate. Her hands and toes were filled with needles and she was praying, pleading to a God that she still believed in that something happen, something happen, something happen –
A reddish-gold blur shot suddenly through the air, hitting Stricklander squarely in the back; he went down with an outraged cry as Vendel launched himself into the room, picking up his staff and grabbing the arm of the other Changeling in one long, fluid movement. The Changeling was swiftly thrown through the air, where he struck the edge of Alexandra’s table and tumbled to the floor, his flailing arms knocking several of the trapping stones awry.
Alexandra hastened to stand under the moggy influence of the remaining stones, her limbs straining as if she were swimming through mud. Slowly, laboriously, she pushed the rest of the glowing stones out of alignment and unceremoniously fell off the slab and onto the floor. Her still-healing nose broke motherfucking AGAIN as she landed face-down, but she summoned her amulet straight out of the green asshole’s pocket and donned her armor.
Above her, Stricklander snarled and attacked Vendel, only to have his bony hand caught in a fist larger than his entire head. When he tried to pull back, Vendel squeezed. He was forced to release the broken hand when Stricklander sent a badly-aimed volley of knives into his shoulder, but he gained ground again when the Changeling yelped and stumbled, a bloody streak from Alexandra’s sword running across his exposed calf.
He muttered and oath and booked it, leaving his fallen companion to yell at him in indignation. Vendel dodged around the slab, reaching down to help Alexandra to sit.
“The Changelings have attacked the main market,” he said in a rush, grabbing her by her chest-plate and hauling her up until her back was against the table. “Half of Heartstone is overrun. You must – “
“You need to get back out there,” Alex interrupted, clumsily smacking his hands away. “Stop worrying about me, I’m damn useless! Get back out there and help them!”
Vendel promptly dropped her and hurried back out, moving surprisingly fast for such an old troll. Alexandra struggled to get up, and fell over again. She couldn’t catch her breath, and her vision swam with tears and dizziness. Her panic attack wasn’t helped by her infirmary. After five days of constantly straining against the trapping stones her muscles were coiled and sore, and without the pressure of her bonds her entire body felt weightless and off-balanced. Her hips especially were paining her, and the healing wound in her side throbbed and pulled angrily.
She reached up and gripped the edge of the table behind her, pulling until she was strewn backward over the surface. Her armor loudly scraped against the stone and she finally heaved herself upright, only to fall over again when the other Changeling knocked her back into the table, fleeing for the exit. There was a clang, and a yelp, and a Changeling in human form appeared around the corner, dodging both his troll attacker and his scarpering comrade.
He spotted her and snarled, twirling a pair of stone sabers through towards her. Boldened by her weakened state, he attacked, and the only reason Alexandra was able to keep her head was because she wasn’t able to keep her balance. Her hands fumbled on the table and down she went, a saber slicing the air above her head. She managed to twist her landing so that she slammed into his legs, making him cry out as her armor banged into his bony shins. His eyes glowed with yellow fire as he threw her off, and something in their light threw a sudden memory into her head.
“A troll cannot use sunlight.”
Kanjigar and the ghostly council had been haunting her dreams every time she slept, telling her the same damn things over and over until she wanted to destroy the sun just to shut them up.
“A troll cannot use sunlight.”
What the fuck had they meant!?
“A troll cannot use sunlight.”
(but a Changeling
could)
A TROLL CANNOT USE SUNLIGHT.
Without a single thought Alexandra shifted and threw out her arms; instead of the Daylight sword materializing, bright light spewed from her gloves, coating her arms in the glow up to the elbows. The beams were both solid and fluid, and she raised all four arms and slammed them down on the Changeling’s shoulders. He did not turn to stone, but his skin sizzled and burned at an alarming rate, and within a few seconds he was still on the ground, dead and blackened with horrific burns.
Alexandra yelped in pain and frantically scraped at her arms, which were steaming. Urgent, she banished the gloves and bracers and found her stone skin mottled and alarmingly reddened, tiny cracks glowing as if there was magma under her skin, which it certainly felt like. She threw back her head and screamed in agony.
“ShhhiiiiiIIIIT! AAHH!”
If she could move she could get some fucking water! The pain in her arms was all-consuming and she felt it crawling, destroying her hands and forearms, her heart pounding nauseatingly in her chest and throat as she strained against her sluggish body.
“Can someone get me some fucking water!”
With all the commotion outside her call was unanswered, as she’d expected it to be. The fire slowly, slowly began to cool on its own, but it took its fucking time.
Trolls didn’t sweat, but Alex dearly wished she could, just to get some of the horrible heat out of her body.
She looked over to her side, where the figure of a bright red troll wavered through her dizzy eyes; the Changeling’s attacker, who had driven him into the Heartstone in the first place.
“And what do you want?!”
The troll shrugged and turned away.
“Whatever.”
Damn him, he’d seen the whole thing.
“Shit,” Alex growled. “Alright, get back here and help me up.”
The red troll put down his bloodied mace and pushed her up from behind, until she could cling to the wall of the Heartstone for balance. Her hands left bloody smears on the crystal, which soaked them up with a golden glow.
“How many are out there? Is it only Changelings?”
He shook his head and then answered in Trollish, “Goblins too, and an anstramonstrum.”
Fuck.
She had no idea what to do against an anstramonstrum, having never encountered one before. Goblins were easy enough to dispatch but what the hell does one do about a growing carnivorous mist?
“Get me outside,” she growled.
They limped and stumbled outside of the Heartstone, where chaos reigned across the chasm. The market was in an uproar of rampaging goblins, attacking Changelings in troll and human forms, and, on the far side of the market, the raging, thundering mass that was the anstramostrum.
Alexandra slid her arm off her escort’s shoulder.
“Go get those trapping stones,” she said to him. “They’re around Vendel’s table back in the Heartstone. Some will be on the floor. Bring them back here.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. Alexandra ignored him and summoned her sword, which she fumbled and dropped. A pile of goblins came charging at her that moment and she wondered if she should just let them eat her, and then she summoned her sword again and cut the pile to pieces. Her hand and arm felt like they were being flayed; blood turned the handle of her blade slick and she needed to hold it with two hands.
As long as nothing came and made her move her legs, she was fine.
A scream drew her attention and a whelp and his parent scrambled out from behind a pile of old televisions, a Changeling with a heavy club stalking after them.
Alexandra stumbled forward and fell into him, unable to bring her arms up enough to stab. The Changeling was caught off guard and Alex bit deep into his shoulder, making him scream out. He tried to club her, but the weapon was not meant for close combat, and Alexandra was able to wrench it away from him. He swiped his claws over her face, forcing her to rear back to avoid losing another eye. The pain actually distracted her from the burns on her arms and she retaliated, kneeing him in the groin and making sure that every elbow landed in his gut as they fell to the ground.
It was graceless, and inelegant, but when the fight was over she shooed the child and parent away, her sword and a shaft of wood from a broken stall holding her on her feet.
Trollmarket actually seemed to be doing a fairly good job of defending itself, considering that its denizens were not primarily warriors, but when a blue blur passed Alex and barreled through a hoard of charging goblins, she understood.
Draal was covered in gore and debris but he looked like he was having the time of his life. With a thundering roar he threw himself into battle with two Changelings at once, defeating one and smacking away the other with her limp body.
He dropped his impromptu weapon and his eyes landed on Alex.
“Trollhunter! You are injured – “
“ – I’m good,” she interrupted. “How many are left?”
“Not many at all,” he replied with a grin. He rolled his shoulders and balled his hands into fists. “I’ve taken out the majority, but there is an anstramonstrum, and – “
He paused for a second to slam his fist into a Changeling’s face. Alexandra sliced her ex-fellow’s torso and smacked him away with her staff. They tossed the body aside and jumped aside themselves as a pair of trolls ran past them.
“ – And we still do not know how they even got in.”
“I’ll handle that,” Alex said. “And I’m going to try trapping the anstramonstrum. Where are Blinky and AAARRRGGHH?”
Draal pointed. Near the bridge entrance Blinky was in the middle of the fray, throwing large stones and smacking with a spear every Changeling and goblin that was surrounding AAARRRGGHH, who was deliberately making a target of himself.
They’re fine for now.
“I’ve got the crystals.”
Alexandra jumped, not having noticed her Whatever-Troll’s return. He looked exceedingly put-upon, but held out a bag that glowed from within.
“The trapping stones?”
Taking the bag and nodding, Alexandra slung her arm over Draal’s pointy shoulder and pointed him to the gyre side of Trollmarket, where the anstramonstrum was wheedling through the stalls, a dozen trolls running for their lives away from its mass.
“It’s an alive thing,” Alex said, as Draal stood and just outright carried her across the floor. “It’s not dissipating into the air, so it’s semi-solid. But I can’t slice it, burn it, or…well…I guess I could try to burn it.”
Her raw arms were chaffing against Draal’s skin and she wanted to faint.
I really don’t want to try.
“Either way, I don’t know how to kill it, so we’re going to have to trap it until we can find out how to.”
“And you are sure that this will work?”
Draal put her down and she started laying the stones out.
“No, I don’t,” Alexandra admitted. “It’s the best I got right now.”
Draal took the bag from her and put down the remaining stones, spreading them into an enormous circle that touched the walls of the market.
They waited.
And the stupid cloud went down the wrong hallway.
Draal cursed in Trollish and sped away, ignoring Alexandra when she called out for him.
“Draal! We’ll just set up the stones somewhere else! Draal! What the hell are you going to do?!”
“Make it angry,” he called back.
Their antics were drawing the attention of a distant crowd, and through it pushed AAARRRGGHH, Blinky clinging to his side as they ran across the emptied passage.
“Master Alexandra! What can we do?”
“I can’t fucking MOVE! Take these stones and get them down that other hallway! DRAAL!”
Blinky shooed AAARRRGGHH in front of him and the larger troll sped up, skidding to a halt just outside of the trapping circle. His hand hovered over a crystal just as they heard a voice cry out.
“Wait!”
Silence reigned for a half moment that lasted an eternity, and then Draal appeared, turning down a far corner.
“Get away!”
Directly behind him, the anstramonstrum consumed everything in its path, shattering crystals and swallowing stalls. It ignored other trolls still scattered in the market, focused on the blue troll and him alone. Draal curled into a roll and careened down the corridor, stopping directly in front of the crystal circle.
“Wait for it,” he murmured. The anstramonstrum continued on its destructive path, intent on devouring he who had royally pissed it off.
Draal walked calmly around the circle, until it stood between him and the deadly cloud.
It got closer and closer, aiming directly for him, and then just before it entered the circle it cut a sharp right and fucking went around it.
AAARRRGGHH picked up Alexandra and dodged to the side, nearly slamming her into a stumbling Draal. The deadly cloud’s momentum shot it down the path, but it quickly turned itself around, cracking with purple lightning as it missed its target.
They sprinted around to the opposite side of the circle, and then Draal, the eternal, noble fool, stepped into it.
He spread his arms and was immediately paralyzed. The stones emitted their glowing bars, trapping him.
Alexanda wriggled out of AAARRRGGHH’s grip and stumbled forward with a cry.
The anstramonstrum flowed into the enormous circle of stones, swallowing Draal whole before it was stopped as well.
Alex’s stagger turned into a desperate sprint, and she flung herself through the bars of light. Half of her body was immersed in the black cloud, stinging her skin with a hundred thousand glowing knives, before she connected with something solid and sent it tumbling to the ground. A huge hand grabbed her by the back of her belt and dragged her and Draal out of the trapping circle, lifting them carefully over the yellow stones.
Draal was alive but unconscious. His tattoos glowed with pinpricks of purple light, cracks of which spread over his skin. His breathing was short and shallow, but he was alive.
“Thank God, you idiot,” Alex murmured, sitting back with relief.
Blinky finally caught up to them and pulled Alexandra away so that Vendel could reach Draal. There was still the distant sound of fighting, but she couldn’t continue. Pain and exhaustion finally overwhelmed her, and she fell backwards into AAARRRGGHH’s waiting hand.
Understandably, Blinky was having a completely, utterly horrible day.
He had not been put out at first at their Trollhunter falling asleep before he could start their lessons, given that sleeping was one of the many things that he wanted her to do that she just didn’t do. Her sleeping meant that she wasn’t going to be thinking about how terribly awkward Blinky was sure he had been during their talk. It had been the first time that Changelings had been brought up and he just knew that he’d almost given himself away.
He and AAARRRGGHH had been getting something to eat when several members of the crowd, in every part of Trollmarket, had suddenly starting attacking people. Goblins emerged from every corner and began destroying everything in sight, and several innocent trolls fell before anybody realized what exactly was going on.
There had to be dozens of Changelings, all armed to the teeth and accompanied by half a dozen goblins each. AAARRRGGHH had to keep Blinky from getting killed before it dawned on them that they were primary targets.
Blinky himself had actually been dragged away from the fray by two Changelings, separating him from his protector, before Draal had joined the fray with roars and thundering fists.
It was he that drove away the majority of combatants, tossing goblins through the air and downing the attacking Changelings with a fervor and competence that reminded who exactly Draal had been the son of. Many trolls were able to get to safety as he drew the majority of the fight to himself.
Blinky had wondered where Alexandra was before remembering that she was in the Heartstone, trapped and utterly at the mercy of any Changelings who decided to attack there. Frantically he had called to Vendel, who was fighting nearby, to remind him of their incapacitated Trollhunter.
He himself fought with fist, stone, and a fallen spear, but it was quickly becoming evident that he was more of a liability than an asset. AAARRRGGHH had noticed it, too, and he deliberately made a larger target of himself, leaving open chances for kill-strikes with every move he made and pretending to be slow and uncoordinated. The Changelings and goblins surrounded him, only to be picked off by Blinky, who darted between stalls and rocky outcrops to strike and then hide away again.
Fighting was not his forte under any sort of circumstances, but coupled with AAARRRGGHH’s presence and the need to keep him unharmed he was more than willing to fight tooth and nail to the best of his ability, however small his ability actually was.
It was a pity when, just as they were feeling victorious, an anstramonstrum made itself known on the opposite end of Trollmarket.
On the other side of the chasm surround the Heartstone, Alexandra herself was limping around with Draal’s help. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH, done with their fights, dodged around debris and fallen bodies to try and reach them. A crowd was forming at a safe distance from the deadly black cloud and they urgently pushed through.
Alexandra, it seemed was trying to trap the monster. Blinky urged AAARRRGGHH ahead of him to help her, unable to keep up on his damned short legs.
He stumbled and fell when Draal deliberately stepped into the trapping circle, and the anstramonstrum swallowed him whole.
Alexandra herself saved Draal from being killed, and Blinky finally made it to them as AAARRRGGHH pulled them out of the trap.
Both were alive but grievously harmed, and Blinky was – quite understandably – having a very. Bad. Day.
Alexandra was finally allowed to move about when it was made clear that nobody could actually stop her, given that the trapping stones were currently in use. There was much to do in the aftermath of the fight, and she threw herself into it with an agitated fervor. Blinky and AAARRRGGHH kept close by her in the event that she finally realized that she was wounded and worn out, but it was clear that she was done with sitting around.
The wounds on her arms worried Blinky greatly but he was only allowed to wrap them up, and the same for the wound on her side. She healed remarkably fast, but it was very clear that she was in constant pain, and Blinky had the feeling that if she finally allowed herself to stop that she would not be able to get back up.
Many lives had been lost during the attack, but the majority of them belonged to their attackers. Alexandra and Vendel presided over the funeral rites of all the Heartstone trolls who had fallen, but in a curious display of mercy the Trollhunter also insisted on interment of the Changelings who had been killed.
Blinky and AAARRRGGHH, of course, knew the real reason why, but when Alexandra was questioned on her choice she merely said that it was her duty as Trollhunter to take care of the troll and human worlds, and that included those that fell in between.
It wasn’t easy – Changelings didn’t die like trolls did. Those that didn’t explode fell as humans did, as flesh-and-bone bodies instead of as stone. The Trollhunter bid them to be collected and set aside for her to take upstairs and deal with later, easing the minds of those concerned that their attackers would be entombed beside their dead friends.
Everyone uninjured helped clean up the mess, which included repairing stalls, clearing away rock and broken crystals, setting up further defenses on Trollmarket’s entrances, and replenishing supplies and goods that had been destroyed.
Alexandra actually did more for her reputation as Trollhunter in the first days after the attack than she had for every fight with Bular, when she tirelessly worked to repair what had been broken, whether that included property or the hearts of those who survived the attack. Blinky had never observed softness and warmth from their Trollhunter before, but as his fellows mourned and lamented she turned into an unexpected pillar of strength and comfort the like of which Blinky had not witnessed since Deya herself. Kanjigar had been strong, yes, and his community drew from that strength, but although he had been exceedingly kind he had never allowed himself to be emotionally available.
Alexandra, with her heart wrapped in lies and sharp knives, listened to every grieving troll’s sorrows, every complaint, every worry. As opposed to Kanjigar, who lent his strength to others, Alexandra seemed to draw from those around her. With every troll she talked to she stood a little taller, walked a little steadier, moved a little faster. Blinky knew that she was close to collapse no matter how useful she was making herself, but until she actually did buckle under the pressure that she put herself under, she was actually doing very well.
Draal, on the other hand.
Was an idiot, as both Vendel and Alexandra took pleasure in reminding him daily. Following the end of the battle he had been moved to the examination dwell, where he remained until he could stand without falling over.
Nobody was exactly sure what exactly happened to those killed by anstramonstrum. The working theory was that the mist actually dissolved and ate them, since there were never any bodies. Draal had only been encased in the mass for a few seconds, but those few seconds had eaten away at him. The entirety of his exposed skin was pitted and marked like acid rain on limestone, the lines and pockets glowing with a sickly purple. Alexandra, who had partially passed through the mist, also sported the effects of the smoke on her face and upper body. Draal, however, had breathed it in, and so was unable to do much of anything until Vendel healed his lungs.
His spirits were up however great his injuries, and he once again had a crowd of admirers and fans who had to be pushed out of the examination dwell almost hourly. There were rumors of changing his title, too. Draal had willingly put his life in danger to capture the anstramonstrum, on top of his efforts in the battles around Trollmarket, and he was hailed as a hero. His place in Heartstone was once again assured, and every troll who saw him welcomed him.
Once everything was mostly organized and the rebuilding was well on the way, there really were only two problems: how the Changelings had gotten in, and what to do about the anstramonstrum.
The anstramonstrum inside of its glowing trap was given a wide berth by the trolls of Heartstone. Unlike most things caught inside trapping stones, it was not motionless. The bars kept it from attacking anyone but it filled its prison from floor to ceiling, a great, evil mass swirling inside of golden light, a menacing column of black smoke and purple lightning. From Blinky’s extensive research on the subject they knew that it could only be returned to the crystal from whence it had come, which was utterly useless to them since they had no idea where it was.
The second problem was in the captured Changelings.
Alexandra had ordered them imprisoned, to be questioned by her later, but it was several days before she got the chance. Both Blinky and AAARRRGGHH accompanied her, despite her protests. She threatened and snarled at them, but both of them were in perfect health in comparison to her, and until she could lift her sword without bleeding there really wasn’t much she could do if they decided to ignore her orders. So, with great consternation on the part of their Trollhunter, the three of them made their way down to the dungeons.
Eleven Changelings had been captured in varying states of health. Every one of them instantly focused on Alexandra as they entered the dungeon.
She dismissed the guards.
“Ah, our illustrious sister,” drawled a skinny, lime-green Changeling. “Risen to the highest of offices. How very honored we are to be in your presence.”
“They don’t know about the Leoht Stone,” Alexandra whispered, just loudly enough for Blinky and AAARRRGGHH to hear. “We could use this to our advantage.”
Blinky was exceedingly uncomfortable with watching her interact with those whom he assumed she had once been fellows. Unaware of his discomfort, she approached the green Changeling.
“How did you get into Trollmarket?”
“If this is your attempt at interrogation, I might laugh,” he replied, sneering down at her from his cage. Alexandra merely stared at him.
“I’m going to give you the chance to break from Gunmar. All of you.”
Blinky started forward but AAARRRGGHH grabbed his arm.
“Listen first,” his companion murmured, as the prisoners above them screamed in outrage.
“Don’t insult us!”
“You are nothing more than pawns and tools to him,” the Hunter continued, “to be thrown out when no longer of use. If you switch sides, you’ll be – “
“Get fucked, traitor,” yelled another Changeling.
“Gunmar is trollkind’s salvation!”
“That is what he tells you. But you all are not trolls. You are worthless to him.”
There were various jeers and yells, but Blinky noticed that the green Changeling was silently watching her. She in turn focused on him.
“And why would you pretend to care,” he demanded, playing with the edge of his cloak. “What is in this for you?”
“Someone has to,” Alexandra said, quietly and contemplatively. “What I get is not having to kill all of you.”
“You wouldn’t dare, Trollhunter. Their kind believes in honor and dignity. There is none in killing a helpless prisoner, is there?”
Alexandra walked away from him and over to the wall where the chains holding the cages in the air were secured. She lowered several of them to the ground, including the green one’s.
AAARRRGGHH and Blinky watched with trepidation as she approached a stocky blue Changeling.
“I’d like to offer you a chance to live in peace,” she said to him. He snarled through the bars.
“Gunmar rewards his faithful,” he said. “Traitors are – “
Blinky jumped back in shock when Alexandra summoned her sword and ran him through. The air shimmered around her as if heated suddenly. The Changeling’s fatal wound crackled and glowed, and he imploded with a rush of air and a shock of blood.
The jeerings and growls that had echoed in the chamber abruptly silenced.
“There’s really no honor in stupidity,” Alexandra said, banishing her sword. “Those faithful to Gunmar are going to die. Those who change sides, permanently, will live. It’s really not that difficult.”
“There are more of us, you know,” said the green one, eyeing her with more fear than he had before.
“You are a practical lot,” said the Trollhunter. She walked to another cage, slowly and steadily. Blinky hadn’t seen her like this before, but he noticed how the Changelings were tensing. She wasn’t raising her voice, or moving quickly at all, which somehow made it all worse.
“Surely one of you knows the value of self-preservation over twisted loyalty.”
The purple Changeling that she spoke to tried to lash at her through the cage. Alexandra grabbed her arms and the Changeling screamed; Blinky watched in horror as her skin blistered under the Trollhunter’s glowing gauntlets.
Alexandra released the screaming woman and crouched by her stricken form.
“Defect,” she said calmly. The Changeling looked at her with stricken eyes, but as the others called out curses and proclamations of loyalty she snarled and shook her head.
It did not remain attached to her body.
Blinky was immensely regretting his insistence on accompanying Alexandra, or at least his bringing of AAARRRGGHH. The huge troll had turned away minutes ago, hiding his eyes from the gruesome, quiet slaughter. Blinky rubbed his arms as comfortingly as he could and huddled against his friend’s side, readying himself to close his eyes. He’d seen Alexandra scream and rage, charge at Draal and Bular alike with passion and determination, but never had he seen her quietly walk over and kill someone, no more bothered than if she were browsing at a lunch stall. It promptly reminded him of exactly how little he knew of her past, and of her true nature.
“I really only need one of you to talk,” Alexandra continued, this time not banishing her sword.
“Please stop,” hissed the green one, to Blinky’s surprise. “Just stop, we can talk.”
Alexandra walked back to his cage, and put her hands behind her back, where the odd glow of them slowly dimmed. Blinky saw her fists shiver in pain.
“That’s all I wanted,” she said.
They conversed quietly for quite a time, while the Changelings around them watched in silence, the drip dripping of blood pattering in puddles on the floor.
AAARRRGGHH was still shivering under Bliky’s hands. While violence and bloodshed were almost every day features in troll society, it was usually something celebrated, whether in spars, challenges, or battle. But this…the Changelings would probably have been put to death anyway, but it wouldn’t have been like this, quietly and calmly and stinking of manipulation and indifference.
They eventually seemed to come to some sort of agreement, and the green Changeling dug into his capelet of knives and handed her something yellow and glowing: a horngazel.
Blinky stiffened as Alexandra walked toward him, but she passed him and knocked on the door, drawing the guards.
“Release the Changelings,” she told them, “and escort them out of Trollmarket.”
AAARRRGGHH jerked violently and Blinky stumbled, both of them staring at Alexandra in shock.
“What? Master Alexandra, you can’t just – “
“They’re not to be harmed or assaulted on their way out,” she continued, ignoring Blinky’s spluttering. The guards did as she said, and began unlocking the Changeling’s prisons. The green one emerged from his cage with something like triumph.
“You’re letting them leave?!”
“Not for free,” muttered the green Changeling. Alexandra shoved him roughly.
“Cooperation is a small price to pay for your life, jackass,” she replied. “Alright, you idiots. Get out of my Heartstone.”
The guards surrounded the motley group and began marching them out of the chamber. Blinky heard gasps and yelps of surprise from the trolls outside as they emerged. He and AAARRRGGHH ran to Alexandra’s side as she brought up the rear.
“Master Alexandra, this needs to be a community decision! You at least need to consult with Vendel – “
“I already talked to Vendel,” the Trollhunter said. Blinky noticed that she was rubbing her bandaged arms. “He left the decision up to me.”
“But letting them go? This is madness!”
“This is politics,” Alexandra murmured.
“I hardly believe that I have to explain such folly to you! Surely they will betray whatever agreement you have come to and just attack once more. What did you even say to him? What did you bargain?”
“It really wasn’t that difficult. They gave up the anstramonstrum’s home crystal and the horngazel their goblin had stolen, in exchange for their lives.”
“You are letting them leave, whatever they have given you! Sparing their lives will only ensure that they are at liberty to attack us again!”
“The fucking carnivorous mist and their key to Trollmarket were the main concerns here, Blinky!”
Alexandra stopped and turned to him, her eyes wide with desperation and righteous anger.
“Their numbers were severely decimated today and they’ve seen that Trollmarket is not an easy target. Their goals were not achieved and their attack failed. Should they attack again, then we’ll deal with that when it comes. And we will set up defenses and further security later, but right now, I’d like to stop them from getting in again and get rid of that murderous column of smoke before it breaks out and kills someone else!”
Blinky shook two fingers in her snarling face.
“You asked for his cooperation!”
“And I got it, for as long it takes for them to get out of Trollmarket quietly. And I’ve given them all something to really think about. Neither Bular nor Gunmar would ever have been this merciful.”
“Master Alexandra, you cannot possibly expect that they will honor their agreement and become your spies, your allies!”
“Of course I don’t,” she hissed back at him. “I’m not stupid enough to believe that they’d change sides just because they promised to! I asked them for their stolen horngazel and the anstramonstrum’s home crystal, solid things, not promises!”
Blinky and Alexandra stared at each other in consternation for several heated moments, before one of AAARRRGGHH’s immense hands swam in front of their faces.
“Fight later,” he said quietly. “Changelings leaving.”
With a sigh, Alexandra turned away and starting following after the guards.
“I have to escort them,” she murmured. Blinky watched her for a few seconds, and then he and AAARRRGGHH followed.
The trolls of the market were not happy to see their attackers leaving alive, but the guards’ and Alexandra’s presence kept them from throwing anything more damaging than a shoe or two. They were taken up the crystal staircase and Alexandra had the guards search them before they were allowed to leave. Nothing came up, except one Changeling who had pocketed several trinkets of Trollhunter fan memorabilia.
The portal to the canal closed just as the green Changeling looked back at them. His eye caught the Hunter’s. Neither of them nodded, but neither snarled as well.
The blue glow faded from the walls and Alexandra dismissed the guards. Alone, with nothing to do and nobody to help, she looked discouragingly worn, with bandages over her abdomen, hands, arms, and her hair and body covered in bits of gore and wood and stone dust. The Trollhunter wavered for a moment, and then began down the crystal stairs.
“I need to go check on Draal,” she said quietly. Her feet stumbled on a crystal, and AAARRRGGHH caught her. Her arms were shaking too badly for her to lower herself down the higher jumps.
Although he didn’t feel satisfied with their discussion, Blinky welcomed the lighter turn of conversation.
“Did you hear that about his name?” he asked. “They are considering changing it from Draal the Deadly.”
“I thought it was ‘Destroyer’?”
AAARRRGGHH waved a hand dismissively.
“Either.”
“Indeed, but both I suppose shall become obsolete. Although, I’m not quite sure how he will feel about the lack of menace this new title will bestow.”
Alexandra allowed AAARRRGGHH to help her down a steeper stair, and smiled to herself.
“I don’t know; I kind of like the sound of ‘Draal the Dedicated’.”
A/N: The whole ‘Daylight is mine to command’ bit is about the Daylight Sword, but I wanted to play with the idea of it referring to actual daylight, because how fucking cool would that be? Also, dangerous. You can’t have a cool uber-power move and do it perfectly the first time without some consequences.
I’m trying not to make her too Mary-Sue-ish, but I really do want to explore the possibilities of her armor and how she can use it. There’s so much potential that was both explored and not explored in the show. Most of the reason that she’s able to do cool shit, like summoning only her sword or parts of the armor, is because she came in with no expectations or knowledge. She’s able to do stuff because she never knew that those things were things that weren’t previously done, or were things that shouldn’t be possible. In comparison to other Trollhunters Alexandra is actually very open-minded and willing to learn past the boundaries of her expectations. Kanjigar, for example, was significantly more closed-minded and single-tracked than Jim, which is why I think that Jim was able to explore the possibilities of his armor and Kanjigar was not (or else Kanjigar probably would have been using the daylight-immunity stone). Jim and Alexandra both come into Trollhunting as open books.
Whatever Troll strikes again! I couldn’t just leave him to have one solitary scene. And here’s Strickler too. Don’t worry, he’ll show up again, although I don’t think that he’ll like it much.
I’ve actually only seen one thing that said that Deya was the first Trollhunter, and it was in supplementary material, not the show. Her not being the first actually makes more sense to the show’s timelines, but since it fits with this story the best, I’m going to go along with my initial (but most likely incorrect) assumption that Deya was the first Trollhunter.
And Draal is a hero again, but with all limbs attached. I needed something to get him redeemed in Trollmarket again, so why not bring in Strickler and his pet carnivorous mist. That thing is going to give me headaches until I figure out how to get rid of it.
I was going to include Blinky causing havoc with some dwárkstones but it didn’t fit the story yet. Worry not, he’ll get to them later.
The “This is madness!”, “This is politics.” Exchange is from Pirates of the Caribbean 3.
Also found on ffn and AO3
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The “Just the thought of Team Cap walking all over Tony makes me want to trash my room, I just want unashamed, biased, pro-Tony quality content, is that too much to ask??” inspired ficlet I’ve been holding back for a while:
Bitterness ahead, guys. Not Team Cap friendly. Nor is it particularly deep or rational. I just wanted to get a couple of thoughts out of my head. Basically Tony is done being the team’s sugar daddy, only it comes to light in a very roundabout way.
“When are my arrows gonna be fixed anyways?” Clint grumbles, rubs a hand over his sore shoulder. The one that wouldn’t have gotten injured, had his shot hit the target it was supposed to. Which it should have, his aim had been fine. The problem were the arrows. Someone must have screwed up somewhere in the production because they weren’t perfectly balanced.
They’re sitting in the conference room at the (mostly) restored compound. Tony is tapping away on his StarkPad, not even bothering to look up. He must have felt the questioning glances and noticed the silence, but he still doesn’t react.
Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. He doesn’t want to encourage the tension between them, things are bad enough as it is. If only Tony would put in some effort as well, instead of going out of his way to antagonise them, maybe they could make some actual progress.
“Yo, Stark!” Clint snaps, voice reaching that biting sharpness he reserves specially for the billionaire. “I’m talking to you!”
Tony shows no outward reaction, which is strange to see. Back when they first came back, he used to move at all times, sharp and erratic, never staying still. Steve shakes his head at their unnecessary power play.
Tony answers before he has the chance to reprimand them though. “How would I know?” he asks, a brief frown flittering across his face as he scribbles something down onto the tablet.
The outraged look on Clint’s face tells everyone present that this meeting won’t get back on track any time soon. It’s understandable, really. Clint has been forced to fight three battles with faulty equipment and frankly, the lack of concern Tony is showing for his team mates’ safety is nothing short of callous. Steve knows things haven’t been good between them but this is the first time he wonders if things could really be so bad, that Tony would hold necessary equipment back on purpose.
It’s a terrible thought, but try as he might, Steve isn’t able to shake it off.
At least the rising tension finally causes Tony to look up and meet Clint’s glare. He’s wearing sunglasses even though they’re inside, like he always does. Steve doesn’t like it. Makes it harder to read Tony, to tell what he’s really thinking. Absently, he admits that this is probably why Tony wears them so religiously.
“What do you mean ‘how would you know’?!” Clint snarls, enraged. “My arrows have been acting up for weeks and you still don’t know how to fix it?!”
Tony stares at Clint, the expression on his face unreadable. Then, after a long, long moment of heavy silence, the answer.
“I’m not fixing your equipment.”
For a moment, it’s deadly quiet, as Steve struggles to process the meaning of what Tony has just said.
“Tony,” Steve hastily inserts himself as soon as he finds his voice again, before Clint can throw himself across the room and deck him, “I know there are still some issues we all have to work through, but that’s not an excuse to-”
“Hold it right there, Rogers,” Tony interrupts. It’s never Cap, always Rogers these days. The pain the distinction causes still catches Steve by surprise more often than not. “I’m not sure where you get this from but I’m not your mechanic. I don’t work for you. So if Barton here has an issue with his weapons, he needs to take it up with the people in charge. Considering how often you remind me that it’s not me, you’d think you’d have figured that part out already.”
“But it’s not working!”
Tony sighs. The deep, heavy sort of sigh you usually expect from an exhausted parent after their insistent child asks, “Are we there yet?” for the 34th time. “Then take it up with the quartermaster. Or Agent Hudson. Or one of the techies. Seriously, Barton, you signed the Revision. Who’s responsible for what is right in there, section 12 to 17. Besides-” he pauses.
“What are you waiting for? Go on!” Clint demands between gritted teeth, hands curled into tight fists. Thankfully, he’s not throwing anything. Yet. “Don’t get shy with me now!”
Tony straightens in his seat. Steve inwardly sighs. That man has never been able to let a challenge go unanswered.
“Besides,” Tony continues, voice still surprisingly even, “chances are they’re working just fine.”
“You think I can’t tell when my bow isn’t fucking working the way it should?” Clint bristles.
The words actually cause Tony to lower his sunglasses for a moment, just to make sure there is no doubt about how stupid he believes Clint to be. “I’m saying you’re operating with a standard bow, Barton. The fabric and the construction limit the performance quality. Something I’m sure an experienced archer like yourself has picked up on.”
And yes, things are definitely getting ugly. That level of glacial cold in Tony’s voice is rarely achieved, even now.
“The why the fuck did you build a subpar bow?”
Tony sighs again. “You’re missing the point. Seriously, I can not believe we’re even having this conversation. I did not build that bow, Barton.”
And that’s--that’s a surprise.
Tony’s gaze trails over them all, taking in their confused, shocked expressions. “Really?” he asks, exasperation dripping from every syllable. “Did any of you even read the Revision? The Avengers’ are an official unit. Their weapons and uniforms can’t be provided by a private party, especially not one who is part of the team. Have you ever heard the term conflict of interest?”
“What about Stark Industries?” Natasha asks. From the furrow in her brows though, Steve suspects she already knows the answer--and doesn’t like it one bit.
“I’m not sure if you noticed,” and now there’s no mistaking the mocking in Tony’s tone, “but SI doesn’t sell weapons anymore. It was kind of a big thing, couple of years back.”
“But- But yours are better!” Clint splutters. It sounds plaintive and weak, even in Steve’s ears, but at the same time he knows what Clint’s struggling to say. It’s not about getting your toys taken away. It’s about their safety and efficiency in the field. On bad days, it’s about the survival of their entire planet.
“I can’t believe you would risk the teams’ lives and safety like this because of a petty argument,” Steve says, unable to keep quiet any longer, nor bothering to hide the honest disappointment.
Tony, unimpressed as always, simply snorts. “You’re an official unit, but before that you’ve been working for SHIELD for years. Did you ever have the very best equipment mankind was capable of providing at the time? No,” he answers his own question in a breeze, “you didn’t. Why? Because you’re agents, soldiers. And sure, the government wants to protect us, wants to keep us alive and make sure our missions succeed. But they have limited funding, which means everyone has to deal with the best cost-efficient option available. If you’ve got the right connections to get something more, then lucky you, but that makes you an exception, not a rule.”
“You don’t need to explain real life to me!” Clint snaps aggravated.
“Then why do you feel entitled to something better?” That question, sharp and cutting, makes the archer still, his mouth open but with no retort forthcoming. Tony is blinking at him now, head tilted sideways in child-like curiosity.
“Of course, if I, as a private citizen, decided to build something that doesn’t violate any laws and give it to a friend as a gift, that would be something else, wouldn’t it?” Tony continues after a moment, voice softer now, but no less cutting. His eyes are fixated on Clint, sunglasses pushed back, eyes dark and unmoved. “The average update would take me what, a week or two? That’s a lot of time to invest into a single project, especially when the ultimate use is so limited. How many people can possibly profit from improved protective vest versus how many people improve from an exploding arrow is a really fascinating comparison to make.”
“So you see, Barton, even if I could improve your bow, there’s no logical reason why I should waste my time like this.”
“Tony!” Steve interrupts, scandalised. “Clint’s life depend on his aim! Our lives depend on it! How can you justify not providing him with the most basic necessities.”
Tony doesn’t even try and look abashed, instead he throws his head back and laughs. “This is how you want to play it, Rogers? Because I’m rich and a genius, I owe it to you to devote my time, attention and money to bettering your lives? What about the seven billion other people on this world? Don’t they deserve the same consideration, hm? What makes you so special that I should put your needs before anything else?”
Steve opens his mouth, but Tony doesn’t give him a chance to speak.
“I tell you what this is: this is you realising I’m no longer spoiling you rotten because you are in fact not my kids and I can cut you off whenever the fuck I want. And you don’t like it. Because guess what, I may be privileged, but so are you! You’re heroes, most of the time, as far as the world is concerned. You’ve been living off my money and resources on top of that. You’ve always gotten special treatment and you like that. You’re as far detached from the ‘ordinary man on the street’ as I am, you just don’t have the self-awareness to fucking notice!”
Tony sends them a sardonic smile that does in no way take the sting out of his words. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’ll still be special. It’s just no longer my name footing that bill. Because we’re not friends. And as a business man, I’m not at all sorry to tell you that you simply aren’t worth investing into.”
And with that he stands, all blinding press smile, sweeps around dramatically, and strides purposefully out of the room. The automatic door closes noiselessly behind him, but he might have as well slammed it shut for all the difference it would’ve made.
It’s likely not a coincidence, that on their next mission Spiderman, Vision and Miss Marvel all showcase new, incredibly features and weapons that can’t have been created by anyone else. And it’s impossible to know for sure, what with the mask on, but Steve is one hundred per cent certain that Spiderman is smirking at them.
He is not wrong.
Let me know what you think? And please excuse any mistakes, I’ll re-read this tomorrow. Also this is the last post for today. I’m tiredtiredtired now and think I’ve spread enough bitterness for the day. And spammed your dashes with enough endless posts probably...oops.
#ReRe writes#bitter Sunday#Tony Stark#Team Tony#Post CW#Post CACW#Team Iron Man#Not Team Cap friendly#Not Clint Barton friendly#Not Steve Rogers friendly#ficlet#drabble#fic#Tony takes no shit#not a fix it#no reconciliation#bitterness#bitter Peter#smug Peter Parker#Tony is done being the team's sugar daddy#argument#the author is bitter#general bitchiness
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Just gonna say this: never work at fast food if you can help it. Sometimes. Oftentimes, dealing with customers is like trying to pull teeth.
They don’t say they want a meal just say sandwich and drink, and some won’t even say they want a drink, you just ask if there’s anything else you can get them and they’ll point at the cups and go “that” won’t say what size they want or if they want soda cup, water cup or coffee cup, so its basically you picking up various cups until they say yes, and when they get their tray it’s “where the fucks my fries” when they never asked any they said sandwhich and drink was all. Or you get someone asking for a sandwich don’t say they want a drink or fries then immediately after they pay “it’s a meal where’s my drink?” Like sir you just said you wanted a grilled chicken, I asked if you wanted anything else beside the sandwhich and you said no. You don’t get a meal with that. You can buy a drink and fry but I can’t ring it up as the meal price because the till doesn’t allow that.
And drive thru oh how I hate drive thru customers. You ask them questions and they just give you the silent treatment, like ‘Welcome to BK, may I take your order please?” nothing on the other end for like a minute “Order whenever your ready” and then you get them yelling “ID LIKE A---” but then when you ask anything else like “was there anything else I could get for you today?” or “Would that be all for you today?” you get nothing on their end and so after a minute you give them their total and they scream at you that they weren’t done. Like bitch, if you had more things to order you should have said so when I asked! I’m not a freaking mindreader you have to answer my questions or I’m just going to assume you’re done and move on to the next customer. Other times they whisper their order or have someone in the farthest seat order so it’s hard to make out what they say and they don’t speak up when you ask. They’ll ask for five double whopper meals small and ask why it’s over fifty dollars and go off on you because they clearly said they wanted the six dollar value sized meals when they said nothing of the sort, because they said they wanted it small, I specifically asked what size you would like your meals and you said “Does it cost extra to upsize?” Well duh it does, “Just make them all small” but no, apparently you said you wanted the value size not the small size.
You get cars that pull three feet away from the window and they expect you to Mr. Fantastic yourself to hand them their things when they could be polite and just step out of their cars so they’re actually in reach without you leaning half your body out the window. They rarely do. Some will call you a fatass and “you could reach if you’d lose weight” at you when the problem is that they ignored the yellow lines on drive telling them where their car should be so people can reach them. Oh and coupons and mobile orders, you’re lucky if your customers actually tell you they’re using a coupon at the speaker, it’s not like we need that four digit code on the coupon to ring it up at the coupon price. Half the time they won’t bother telling you they’re using a coupon until they get to the window, so now we have to redo the entire order, which to do so we need a manager to delete everything since the til where you pay at does not allow for orders to be deleted, which means everyone behind the car at window has to wait longer because this one couldn’t tell the people taking their order they’re using coupons. There are also the ones who get to the window but wont hand their coupons over like “What??? You actually require us to give you the coupons when we use them??? What new concept is this????? I thought I could use these coupons infinitely????” or they wont even bring the coupons with them and then argue with you how they should still get the coupon deals even though they have no coupon with them like, bro, go to any store and they’ll have you give them the coupons when you use them, what makes you think fast food is any different?
Mobile orders are just as bad, the customer can put their mobile order to be picked up inside or to be picked up on drive, but half the time they just pick a random one and don’t even go to the side they’re supposed to pick it up at. The inside mobile orders will print when the customer confirms it and all, but drive thru you need to go through drive and we have to confirm your order when you get here. So when they dont go through the side they put their order on, it’s easy to lose the order because they ordered it for inside and here we are waiting for an inside order and no ones coming to get it, or they ordered it for drive and we dont have any inside mobile orders printed when they come inside to get it. Or they’ll skip the speakers all together on drive, which they’re not supposed to, and just cut in line to get their food, like sir, you have to go through the speakers like everyone else, just because you got a mobile order doesn’t make you special. Disrupting the line like that is how cars get out of order and how orders get given to the wrong car.
On drive customers also think that the ground is a trash can because they’ll dump all their drinks and smothies and coffees onto it despite how many times you ask them ‘please don’t pour your drinks onto the ground’ or they’ll just toss their straw wrappers onto the ground despite you asking ‘please don’t throw your trash onto the ground’, or they’ll just hand you a bag of trash from other fast food joints expecting you to toss it despite there being a trash can on the drivers side just a few feet ahead. The worst are the sunflower seed eaters who’ll pour their soda cups full of sunflower seed shells onto the ground like it’s not a big deal.
People on drive wont wait for you to finish talking either before they drive off and then complain about how high the total is when they get to the window and how ‘the ordertaker didnt tell me my total!’ well you were trying to tell them but they drove off before you finished because they wanna be That Person. How’d they feel if you just walked off while they were in the middle of talking to you?
You’ll also get the occasional full grown adult who apparently has no freaking idea how drive thru works so he’ll just drive up to the window and start ordering his food, not even ordering just asking whats on the menue so then you have to explain that he has to order his food at the speakers like everyone else and it has a menue, but then he gets to the speakers, says he wants a chicken junior and when he gets to the window he starts modifying his sandwhich because he wants everything that doesnt cost extra on it but didnt want to tell anyone at the speaker that so now you got to wait longer to get this senile man who probably shouldnt even be driving out from your window.
Then you get customers who have to challenge every change your store gets, like when corporate implements a new rule of how to do things, like how the higher ups now don’t want stores accepting any bill higher than a 20$, so when you get customers trying to pay with 50′s and 100′s you got to explain to them why you can’t accept their 50$ bill for to pay for their 1.08$ ice cream cone, ask if they have any other smaller bill or a different way to pay. They’ll argue that they know their bill is good and should be able to pay with it, it doesn’t matter that corporate doesn’t allow us to accept those bills anymore, this customer should be entitled to special treatment, keeps yelling at you despite how many times you explain that you can’t accept it, explain it’s a recent change but that the store does have signs up saying that we don’t accept these bills (So its not really your fault the customer didnt know, all they had to do was look down on the counter in front of the till while they ordered, there’s a sign right there in front of the til saying that you don’t accept these bills) but the customers demands to see the manager because how dare you not accept a bill your store is no longer supposed to accept. Then the manager explains why we can’t accept so the man is still pissed but pays with a card and says its all bullshit and all but says ‘fuck you’ to you when you tell them ‘I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but we don’t make the rules unfortunately, we just have to follow what the higher ups tell our store to do.”
A few customers will think ‘oh so counter doesnt accept fifties, but drive does, right?” and not seem to understand the concept that the whole store doesn’t accept these bills, why would drive accept fities and counter not?
And then there are the people who just want sauce or water, and call you a thief when you charge them 16 cents per sauce or 25 cents for a water (which is only when people on drive thru only get cups of water) I can’t understand why you’d go to a fast food place and just ask for barbecue sauce and nothing else, but when you charge them they get pissed because apparently they shouldnt have to pay for sauce, regardless of the fact that sauce only comes free with specific items.
And then a few customers have this mindset that if they don’t have enough to cover their food, the store will pay the rest. Like bitch??? That’s not how a business works??? And if they realize that you’re not going to pay the rest for them, they get huffy and “Well what am I supposed to pay with??” and when you offer solutions; “I can make the meal smaller, that’ll reduce the cost, we can take an item off, cheese is 25-50 cents (Depending on sandwhich/how many slices) and bacon is like 80 cents if we take that off...” they don’t agree to any and just act like them not having enough for their 12 dollar meal is your fault somehow and that you should be using the coin cup next to the til (Which is extra change that goes into the Cancer Fund donation box thing at the end of the night that we also use if the customer is shortma couple of pennies) to pay the rest of the two dollars of their meal.
Then you get the customer with the coupon for 2 meals for 9 dollars, and asks for cheese and bacon on them and is surprised when it now costs 11 dollars instead of nine, so they get their dad who starts arguing and yelling at you when you explain that ‘the nine dollars is before tax, but with the extras it comes to 11’ and doesn’t seem to understand that it’s the add ons that mad it more expensive and insists on you telling him the exact tax on food items, something you dont know because no one ever told you it, and ignores you when you explain the tax would only be about 60 or 70 cents extra that it’s the bacon and cheese that upped the price, so you have to get your manager because it doesn’t matter how much you explain, he clearly isn’t going to listen to you.
#fast food#I don't entirely hate my job#I find the cleaning and stocking parts fun as well as bagging food#And I like my coworkers they're fun#i just hate dealing with customers because fuck#it's like they live to make things difficult#These are all things I have to deal with weekly tbh
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This rap is lyrically one of the best things ever written. Sit back, listen and read these lyrics.
[Verse 1: Akala]
Yes, I grew up on the dole in a single parent family
Been through a little bit of tragedy
Yes I was around drugs and violence before the day that I started secondary
And that’s part of it not half of it, get the picture, the rest ain’t necessary
Growing up, got a little caught up, but that ain’t even half of my life
Also given the knowledge of self
That is all we actually need to survive
If you saw me aged 9, reading Malcolm just fine
Teachers still treated me stupid
Students that couldn’t speak English, they put me in groups with
And the irony is some of the first man to give me schooling
You would call gangsters but I already explained, we know what the truth is
They used to say ‘Don’t be like me’
Yeah I got a name and dough on the street
Night time comes, I can’t sleep
And that’s the part that rappers don’t speak
We don’t hit the road cos we are thugs
Don’t come out the womb, wanting to sell drugs
If we got the right guidance and love
Would we fight people just like us?
How could I knock the hustle to get by?
How do you think I ate as a child?
Judge no one, done many things wrong
I just don’t boast about it songs
But listen to my older bars
I was just as confused as you probably are
But you grow and you learn, travel and fuck up
One too many man you know get cut up
One too many man that could’ve been doctors
End up spending their whole life boxed up
You learn, if you study
Its all set out just to make them money
No cover, it’s all about getting poor people to fight with one another
So its logical that us killing our brothers, dissing our mothers
Is right in line with the dominant philosophy of our time
But time is a cycle, not a line
Comes back around you regain your mind
You be ready for the energy I channel in my rhymes
Remedy the pedigree, the jeopardy of mine
When the world’s this f***ed up, lethargy’s a crime
We can all fight with our brothers over crumbs
Far harder to fight the one who makes guns
We can all talk sh** and get two dollars
Far harder to be the one who seeks knowledge
If we understood economics
We’d know money’s nothin’
Think nothing of it
Money is a means to get wealth, not the wealth itself
Don’t get confused, I’m far from broke
All that you see me do I own
But I won’t hang what I make around my neck
I know from where that the diamonds came
But I do quite literally own a library
That definitely costs more than your chain
And businesses, and properties
Far from starvin’, I eat quite properly
And I don’t care, just said it for the kids
Who need to know that you’re not broke to listen
Don’t know an asset from a liability
They’ve never been shown or told the difference
So they don’t change situations
Richest man in Britain is Asian
That’s significant, not coincidence
Asian people build businesses
Not by flossin/going out shoppin’
Giving out their culture for everyone’s profit
Who run’s Bollywood? Indian people
Who owns our shit?
So we shake our arse and dance
As if racism just upped and vanished
But has it? No its right on course
You’re beaten so bad, you’re trained to ignore
Let me not just make sweeping statements
Gimme a second, I’ll explain it
For small amounts of drug possession there’s more black people in jail in America than there is for rape and armed robbery and murder all put together
You can say they’re just locking up thugs
Imagine if they locked up every middle class kid that had ever held drugs
Oh that’s right, that’d be your kids!
Bigger than that what is going on with this
Prison in America’s a private business
They get paid 50k per year per inmate by the State, just wait…
Also legally are allowed to use their prison inmates as slaves
Cheap slave labour, big corporations
They come out of jail, can’t get a job
So when we celebrate going to jail
We are LITERALLY CELEBRATING ENSLAVEMENT
Add to that, that the hood that you’re livin’
Engineered social condition that breeds crime by design
Where do you think you get your nine?
You can say that they’re just black
But I like to deal with facts
In the 1920s you would’ve found in America
Black towns
Prospering centres of economics and education to make you proud
But some people couldn’t bear that the former slaves would not just lie down
So the KKK and other hate groups burnt those towns to the ground
Killin hundreds
If it ain’t understood
You think you were always livin’ in the hood?
Shit it’s only been sixty years
Since they hung blacks and burned em’
And that was so cool
They were your pastors’ picnic baskets
Even gave kids the day off school
To go see a lynching, have a picnic
It’s fun to watch the little monkeys die
Then people act a little dysfunctional
You wanna pretend that you don’t know why
If your colour means you can be killed
And you’re powerless to get justice about it
Is it difficult to figure out how you would then end up feelin’ about it?
And that ain’t excuses
Just dealing with the roots of abuses that make a reality
Where a generation of young men speak of ourselves as dirt casually
That’s America
This Britain
Some things are similar
Some different
In this country the first enslaved were the working class
What’s changed?
Worst jobs, worst conditions
Worst taxed, look where you’re livin’
You go to the pub, Friday night
You will fight with a guy, don’t know what for
But won’t fight with a guy, suit and a tie
Who sends your kids to die in a war
They don’t send the kids of the rich or politicians
It’s your kids, the poor British
That they send to go die in a foreign land
For these wars you don’t understand
Yeah they say that you’re British
And that lovely patriotism they feed ya
But in reality you have more in common with immigrants
Than with your leaders
I know, both side of my family
Black and white are fed ghetto mentality
Reality in this system
Poor people are dirt regardless of shade
But with that said
Let’s not pretend that everything is the same
When our grandparents came here to Britain
If you had a criminal record you couldn’t get in
Yet that ain’t protect them from all the stupid, stupid abuses they would be livin’
Kicked in the teeth, stabbed in the street
Many times fired bombed our houses
Put faeces through our letter box
And of course the cops did so much about it(!)
Daily, up to the 80s
People spittin’ into my pram cos’ I was a coon baby
But of course that has had no effect on why today we are crazy
And none of this was for any good reason
They were just dark and breathing
To ease the guilt now for all of this treatment
Constant stereotypes are needed
So if I celebrate how big that my dick is, bricks that I’m flippin’
Clips that I’m stickin’, chicks that I’m hittin’, I’m playing my position
But if I teach a kid to be a mathematician, messin’ with the schism
How they gonna fill a prison when materialism is nothing but a religion?
What do you think we got now in Britain?
Just like America, private prisons
Prisons for profit!
That mean when your kids go jail people make money off it
So keep environments that breed crime
Build more jails at the same time
Market badness to the kids in the rhymes
As long as rich kids ain’t dying its fine!
Get em’ to the point where some are so lost
They actually believe that if they don’t celebrate killin’ themselves off
That it’s because they’re soft
Was Malcolm soft? Was Marley soft?
Tell me was Marcus Garvey soft?
Well? Was Mohammed Ali soft? Nah, Nah I think not!
But they want us to think that the road is cool
Being on road is all we can do
We don’t control the wholesale productions
Who benefits from us movin’ the food?
Or thinking there’s no way out of road life
But Malcolm X used to hustle out on the roadside
When Marcus Garvey organised more than 6million people
With no Facebook or Twitter
Why is this something you cannot equal?
Shiiiiit!
One of my homeboys did a ten straight in the box in yard
Now what’s he doing? Passin’ his doctorate
Don’t tell me that it’s too hard!
Who trained you to believe that you’re inferior?
Sungbo Eredo in Nigeria are the remains of an ancient moat
Dug 1000 years ago
20 metres wide, 70 down
Round the remains of an ancient town
That’s 400 square miles around
400 square miles around
Please, please don’t believe me
It was a documentary on BBC!
But we ain’t studyin’ history
Too busy watching MTV
And MTV said wear platinum
Now everybody wanna go and wear platinum
And MTV said pop magnums
Now everybody wanna go and pop magnums
If MTV said drink prune juice
You would start hearing that in tunes soon
‘Hey! Today I wore my Cartier
Is it now more important what I got to say?’
Oh and I drive a Mercedes by the way
So everybody listen to what I got to say
Huh, does that make you all happy?
Ahh but shit my head’s still nappy
Think for myself, still some mad at me
But on the mic ain’t not one bad as me
All of this here’s good for the rhymes
Put us in the same place at the same time
And it’s clear to everybody that I’m out of my mind
Some of these guys are runnin’ out of their rhymes
Clear to everybody that has got ears
I’m the guy that they just might fear
They wanna get near but they can’t have a peer
Ah dear I’m hard liquor you’re just like beer
Front on the kid for another five years
Come to my shows and some cry tears
It mean that much to em’, it’s a movement!
I don’t speak for myself but a unit
Black, white, man, woman, anyone that respects truth we put in
Dudes are like no dinner with just puddin’
Yeah you’re sweet but no substance puddin’
You could never ever be with a level on
Our songs get out played out there in Lebanon
We speak for the people properly
Not for the old fat guys in offices
And the girls love him, it ain’t fair
He can’t even be bothered to comb his hair
Anyway that’s enough kissin’ my own arse
Back to the more important task of being so shower
I got half the hood screaming “KNOWLEDGE IS POWER”
And I ain’t saying that will change rap
But I do know this for a fact
Right now there’s a yout’ on your block
With his hand on his cock and his face screwed up
Swear he don’t care, don’t give a fuck
That he won’t let nobody call his bluff
But the words go in
Open up your chakra
Because once that’s happened there’s no going back
Once you start to see what is really happening
Who the enemy you should be attackin’ is
So READ, READ, READ!
Stuck on the block, READ, READ!
Sittin’ in the box, READ, READ!
Don’t let them say what you can achieve
Cos when people are enslaved
One of the first things they do is stop them reading
Cos’ it is well understood that intelligent people will take their freedom
Cos’ if we knew our power we would understand that we can’t be held down
If we knew our power, we would not elevate not one of these clowns
If we knew our power, we wouldn’t get arrogant when we get two pennies
If we knew our power, we would see what everybody sees, that we’re rich already!
But never mind MCs go run for your mummy
I’m hungry, I run for my tummy
That’s enough, back to worshipping money
I’m off, back to the study!
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Self love is such an elusive concept. Just when you think you have an understanding of it, you catch yourself working against it. Sometimes the action of self neglect feels so comfortable, unnoticeable, and subtle that you don’t always catch it.
Today I was beating myself up for not wearing my retainers. As a result my bite is misaligned again and I was growing fed up with the pain in my jaw. And I knew that the cost of getting orthodontic treatment for this condition would be unspeakably high for a college student.
I felt like an idiot really. Why didn’t I just wear my retainer....If only I had worn my retainer, I wouldn’t be in pain...I wasted money on braces...my parents are gonna kill me...they’re going to blame me for my jaw pain and they’re gonna refuse to help me pay for the treatment...
What’s really scary about all this is that anyone with a health condition deserves the chance for treatment!! While affordability is an important factor here, it’s not the deciding one. The deciding factor here is whether I feel I deserve this treatment enough to seek it. It’s my health for fucks sake!! I’m sure if I pushed it, my parents would help me pay for it. They’re not evil or sick. It’s my own perspective about what I deserve, it’s my own guilt, and self-blame that’s really stopping me from asking for help.
There’s more at play here though. And I know that I tend to obsess over things I perceive as flaws. In my mind, perfection is always the goal. In this social media/aesthetic driven day and age, most people seek physical perfection and beauty. It’s really quite scary. Back in the 90′s celebrities would walk around with minimal make up and yellow/crooked teeth. But you won’t catch a celebrity today, or anyone who has regular screen time with that kind of “imperfection.” My 14 year old sister just bought her first foundation make up. I didn’t start wearing makeup until I was 18. That’s not to say I’m more resilient than her, but just to comment on the rapidly changing world. Social media has changed our expectations about how we should look. Would I be more attractive if I had impeccably perfect teeth? Perhaps. Would that make me love myself more? The answer to that is much more complicated. And teeth are nowhere near the answer to self-love. The “ugly” truth is this; how much you love yourself has nothing to do with how you look, your sense of self worth is not going to dramatically change if look like a chiseled ab, glazed donut goddess. Sure, having beauty is a pretty big bonus nowadays. But self-love is a necessity. For life. It is, undoubtedly, infinitely harder to achieve but infinitely more rewarding.
Forgive yourself for your mistakes. Take a deep breath, let it go.
As I child I was never really told that I was clever or smart. Only when I had good grades. But in my day to day life, I think my parents don’t believe I have even an ounce of common sense. But one thing that strangers and relatives alike told me was that I was beautiful. I can already feel my readers rolling their eyes like “oh wow life must be so hard for you.” But allow me to explain how much of an impact that had on me, a kid with no sense of self worth. I started to believe that beauty was all I had and the only thing I should strive for. I was completely and utterly merciless towards myself. I nitpicked every little thing. I didn’t go out unless I found an outfit I liked. And if I didn’t have one, I’d spend the whole day thinking about how ugly my outfit looked. I wanted to lose weight, I wanted to have great hair and eyebrows. And those are all great fun ways to improve your look. But to me, it was neither great or fun. It was the end all, be all of my self worth. I felt that I could be perfect...then I would feel confident. When I got older, college life had taken it’s toll on my appearance. I had developed acne, there were signs of aging and stress. And man I had never hated myself more. “Fixing” myself, obsessing over flaws, feeling like shit because to be honest, I look tired and dead!! Looking like shit and feeling like shit are different because well...has your inherent self worth really changed if you look aged and tired? Only if you let it. And only if your self worth is anchored in external things. Like me.
But the truth is, I’m still me. I’m still a good-hearted person. I’m still intelligent and caring and creative and ambitious. And to anyone who has a healthy self esteem, there’s no physical flaw that can lower your self worth, at least not for long. Because their self worth is anchored in self love, forgiveness, core traits they believe make them good. Remind yourself who you are and what you represent and please remind yourself that you deserve good things despite the way you feel about yourself.
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