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decoloraa · 1 year

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T he Briggs doctors are always ready to give helpful advice. But always be sure to pay them for their coffee, or else things might turn out bad.

Neil is an engineer yeah yeah I understand but I bet he helps with the necessary operations when it comes to automails. I like to think that he does lend the other’s a hand with difficult operations and he does know first aid. Also he’s the most talkative one and always is in a good mood. Good for the patients.

Patricia is a doctor, but apparently (according to fma wiki again. Where do they get those things?) she’s an expert for the cold climat? Tells Ed „yeah you got frostbites that’ll be 150 cenz“ and slaps some hot towels on him. I bet they started calling her „cold climate expert“ bc she basically told THE state alchemist ever „yeah u kinda dumb aren’t u“. You can’t tell me that story didn’t go through the whole fort within a heartbeat.

My personal headcanon is that she has some psychological knowledge too. With all outhouse soldiers who get into fights, lose comrades and simply sit in the fort 90% of the year they surely need someone who offers therapy? I can see her doing that!

Val is the head doctor. He’s been at Briggs for the longest time and over the years he gathered the most experience at treating combat wounds. Also he’s the only doctor literally everyone at the fort is most afraid of, so ppl definitely say to each other’s „be careful our you’ll have to go visit Val“ which is 100 times more effective than any safety training. He also is the only one who’s brave enough to tell Olivier who really is in charge (Val is. So just take your medicine Olivier and stay in your bed for two days. If not your flu will be the least of your problems).

Need to draw more of the doctor crew bc their dynamics are rlly hilarious.

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bombz-n-bluntz · 1 year

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I need to figure out my docs name

#like i called her doc all the time. i wasnt good with names in the outback #hard to be people out there. all codenames and titles 🙄#but she was a saint in that awful place. came with me and rem as backup when we went to sydney #helped us hitch a train there and back #managed to keep rem alive till we got to her home. kept me from bleeding out and got me back to junkertown after sewin me up #i didnt really have the expertise to make a full working limb. didnt have the income to get someone else to do it #ended up with my peg :) got used to it and ended up liking it #better for kickin people in the face. like when they get you by the ankle? poke em in the eye with a nail covered stick #but my doc. she was idk #weird too yeah. grew up the same way i did. she was young too #got lucky knowing people who had medical supplies #also found an old medical station to take over for herself #hard to find customers out there tho. so it was more like an emergency stop some 20 miles out of junkertown #awful walk there. but she didnt overcharge so it was worth it #talkin #mems

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anatay004 · 4 months

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ꜰɪɴɴɪᴄᴋ ᴏᴅᴀɪʀ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴅ (part two)

ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 70ᴛʜ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴏʀ, ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ — ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ-ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʙʏ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴘʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ꜱɴᴏᴡ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴀɴɪᴛʏ

SOMETIMES, WHEN YOU couldn't sleep at night, you often found yourself dwelling in the remnants of the night you'd discovered the heart-wrenching reality about your relationship with Finnick. The memory is vivid, a pinch of salt over freshly cut skin that made you wince and hold your breath a little bit longer in bed.

It'd happened at a feast at President Snow's mansion — you remember it well, towards the end of Katniss and Peeta's touring over the districts. You and Finnick had been invited (forced) to celebrate alongside the Victors of District Twelve due to the popularity the two of you shared back in the Capitol.

But, amidst the celebration, something in the evening never felt quite right. Not when you were standing in the middle of the dance floor alone, searching for Finnick in the crowded space as Katniss' gaze scrutinized you from across the room. Despite the party being held in her honor, that night you never got the chance to introduce yourself to her, and neither had she tried to.

It was almost an unspoken agreement.

Keeping a distance was best for both of you.

It was then when you'd involuntarily heard the pestering rumors amongst the people in the Capitol. Finnick Odair — the Capitol Darling, was pretty popular due to his infamous services. Your ears had strained at that. It wasn't the first time you'd heard of such defamations before — of such nonsense that made your blood boil.

What in the world were they talking about? You'd eventually thought to yourself, but before you could confront anyone on the matter, a hand gently tapped on your shoulder. You'd turned to face a stranger then, an Avox who'd silently beckoned you to follow him inside the mansion without much of a fuss.

You'd hesitated — briefly, before curiosity took over your senses and you'd decided to follow behind the Avox's trail. But not before casting one last glaze over your shoulder: there was still no sight of Finnick anywhere. You'd followed the Avox for a couple of minutes, unsure of where he was exactly guiding you to when he eventually took a sharp turn and disappeared from your line of vision.

"Fuck," You'd cursed to yourself, thinking you'd lost him in the immense corridors. A groan slipped out your mouth, but your muscles immediately froze on their spot when a strange sound broke into your train of thought.

Perplexed, you'd turned to follow it. Belatedly, realizing that the sound was coming from behind one of the many doors in the corridors. There was a collection of moans and muffled sentences that you couldn't quite piece together as you approached the room curiously. And, without thinking — without taking into consideration the presentiment that retaliated in the pit of your stomach, you'd wrapped your fingers around the knob and twisted.

Gasps were the first thing that had registered inside your brain. Then the scenario quickly unfolded before you as you shrewdly recognized the familiar blonde that was making love to a beautiful brunette against the wall.

Your shoulders had slowly slumped in realization. You had been unarmed as you watched Finnick Odair look back at you with culpable green eyes. Oh, those unfaithful green eyes you'd once adored so bad.

"(Y/N)..." Finnick had called, but his voice had been several miles away — merely an echo, inside your head. You'd blinked and blinked until tears had adorned your bottom eyelashes and you couldn't take a single breath of fresh air in.

"Baby, wait! " He'd called again when you had spun on your heel and rushed out of his line of vision without a single word.

With a sudden malady in your heart.

You tossed to the other side of the bed as the vestiges of the memory slowly quenched down with the night. You would've been lying if you said it didn't affect you still — hurt you still, to think about the past. It made your heartache, but you knew better than to cry yourself to sleep.

And, as you lay there in bed, you couldn't help but wonder about the upcoming events. Snow wanted you to pretend everything was perfect between the two of you. He wanted you both to pretend you were the happiest of couples.

Even if it was far from the truth.

Pretending to love him in public would be easy, you supposed. Especially when you didn't have to lie at all. But hiding it behind closed doors?

That would be the challenge.

Like Snow had warned you, the third Quarter Quell was announced a few days later after his visit. You were sitting across from the television in the living room, holding back a cry as your father sobbed in the kitchen.

You knew it was coming.

And yet — the air rushed out of your lungs all the same. It felt like a blade through your skin, like twisting a knife and letting your flesh bleed out. You wanted to run away, escape, and hide in the deepest of waters. You wanted to dive into a tempest, only if so you could escape the inferno that awaited you in the arena.

But you knew better.

You would’ve been caught either way.

So, instead, you pushed yourself up to your feet and walked out of the house without a word. You didn't want to hear your father's muffled cries or his quiet prayers — it was too much for you.

You weren't sure of where to go at first, you thought about rushing to Finnick's arms for a moment — a split second, before the idea was quickly discarded. You figured it would've been quite pathetic given the current circumstances.

So, you decided to visit Mags instead.

The only other person who could ever understand you.

Five years ago, when you'd been reaped for the games, she (along with Finnick) helped you train for the games. And after your victory, she'd managed to fill in the role of a mother that no one else had ever played in your life. So, now, that you were inevitably going back to games — you wanted to give her a proper goodbye.

But to your surprise, when you knocked on her door with white knuckles, trembling lips, and bloodshot eyes — Finnick was the one to greet you. Your breath stilled in your throat when you came face-to-face with him and surprise quickly flitted across your features when you registered his tousled hair, chapped lips, and the dark circles under his eyes.

He looked like he hadn't slept for days either.

"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly, hair falling untidily over his forehead.

"Are you?" You questioned instead, brushing the strands of hair off his face instinctively.

He leaned into your touch almost immediately, but your fingers eventually stilled as you belatedly realized what you were doing and quickly withdrew your hand back. Disappointed flashed across his face when you did so.

"What's going on?" You asked when you registered familiar voices in the background and gently walked past Finnick to enter Mag's home.

"It's the Quarter Quell announcement," Finnick explained when some of the Victors from District Four stumbled into your line of vision. "They're worried about the reaping tomorrow."

You went quiet for a few seconds. "Do they know?" You turned to Finnick, voice barely a whisper. "About...Snow's plan?"

Finnick shook his head as a faint grin curved his lips. "I wouldn't want to spoil the show, baby."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could reply, gentle arms wrapped around you from the side. Almost immediately, you returned the gesture when you realized it was only Mags.

"Hey," You whispered, placing a soft kiss on the side of her head. She smiled softly at you.

"The deal was simple, if we won the games, we were supposed to be left alone for the rest of our lives." One of the Victors argued amongst the group inside the kitchen.

"It's the girl from District 12. She is unintentionally initiating rebellions in the other districts. Snow wants to eliminate her." Another Victor spoke, but this time, the house ensued with silence. For a moment, everyone held back their breath— perhaps, the walls could hear.

But he was right, wasn't he?

"What about the female Victors?"

"What about them?" Finnick questioned flatly, you could hear the warning behind his words.

"Mags won't survive in the arena, Finnick."

There was silence.

Your heart suddenly shattered, but Mags tightened her embrace around you in silent comfort. And then — as if it had suddenly hit you, you belatedly realized that Mags could volunteer for you. If the odds weren’t in your favor, Mags could go back into the arena if you were picked first. And the mere thought of that made your heart hammer furiously against your chest.

You turned to Finnick, but his face was strangely serene and you frowned in confusion.

"(Y/N) has a better chance of winning the games. Perhaps, she could volunteer for Mags — "

"If Mags was to be reaped, I would keep her alive," Finnick spat out, his words dangerously slow as he glared at the Victor.

And that’s when it clicked — what his plan actually was. He never intended you to accompany him into the games, despite Snow’s instructions. Finnick was counting on Mags volunteering for you. He was willing to challenge Snow’s rules to keep you alive.

“There's no need for volunteers." Finnick finished, before turning to look at you squarely in the face. It was a thinly-veiled pled: there was no need for you to volunteer for Mags.

“If Mags gets reaped, I’ll volunteer.” You stated, with a hint of finality in your words.

“If she gets reaped.” Finnick reminded you.

“The odds are there, Finnick.”

“We’ll see about that tomorrow.”

(A/N)

Today’s chapter was a little boring, but I promise it’s important for the story (and the next chapters will be a lot more fun). With that being said, I hope the beginning wasn’t too confusing, the reader will basically travel a lot to the past throughout some scenes in the story. Anyhow, I’ll love to read your requests or comments!

P.S I genuinely don’t know how a tag list works😫

@serrendiipty @avoxrising @queerqueenlynn @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @stayc-a-I-m @chaoticcoffeequeen @wonderland2425 @leilani788 @nexxus13 @whatsupb18 @maxinehufflepuffprincess @meri-soni-meri-tamanna

#peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #hunger games finnick #finnick x you #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick fanfic #finnick x y/n

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teecupangel · 8 months

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I've been replaying Nobodies and in the middle of the second game I thought "Hey this guy talks like Desmond!" then I thought it would be pretty funny if Desmond became a murder cleaner lol

Nobodies: Murder Cleaner is available for Android, PC (via Steam) and Apple if you want to try it. It’s a point and click game where you play as a member of a secret government organization and your job is to clean up after other members have killed the target.

So we have two option for this idea.

Option 1: Canon ‘Verse where Desmond becomes a Cleaner instead of a Bartender

In this one, the only thing we have to tweak is what Desmond’s history becomes when he left the Farm. Maybe he saw one of the Cleaners doing their job in Rapid City and the Cleaner didn’t want to kill a kid to cover his tracks so he makes Desmond his accomplice, helping him clean it up, all the while teaching him the ‘craft’. After that, Desmond tags along because the Cleaner says that’s the only way he’ll survive and maybe Desmond’s upbringing mess him up enough that he thinks this is okay. That this kind of life is actually better than the life he had back on the Farm. The Cleaner keeps a close eye on him and notices how ‘unique’ Desmond’s upbringing is. He even thinks Desmond has what it takes to actually be one of the ‘messy ones’ but Desmond preferred to clean. It feels… more distant to his life before.

We get our timeskip and Desmond is one of the best cleaners out there. His identity is ironclad because his Cleaner mentor gave him a new one and their organization made it official since they do have a bit of leeway with the government. In exchange, Desmond will be in their service which he doesn’t mind because the organization pays for everything he needs (other than the equipment and items he might actually need when it was time to clean up because having such equipment with him when he gets to the scene would be security guard bait).

At this point, the organization has an idea that Abstergo is very sus and there’s a shadowy organization that does questionable things against Abstergo most of the time. They don’t know the full story though but Desmond believes that his parents’ cult is actually an ecoterrorist group. He keeps it to himself though since he doesn’t want to be anywhere close to them.

With the backing of the organization and his more honed skills and espionage, Desmond is actually more or less a ghost even to Abstergo. They know Desmond Miles exist but they also know that he disappeared nine years ago. Desmond’s government records are all fake data but authenticated by the government itself. Hell, he even has an SSN and tax records. (Your call if he keeps his Desmond Miles name or he changes to like Desmond Miller or full on fake name like Derek Milton or something XD)

If you still want Desmond to be part of the Animus Project or to kickstart the main plot, Desmond gets caught because the organization has traitors and one of them took him while he was cleaning a scene that turned out to be a trap. However, Desmond knows how to play the game and his childhood training only help him become better at his job.

If Vidic kept the same ‘security’ in AC1 (cameras only, no visible guards), Desmond would find a way to kill Vidic and (maybe) Lucy before the guards even get there. Once he gets access to the computer (thanks, Lucy), tampering with the security feed would be easy because he’s done it before as a Cleaner. He’s also used to using items and devices he sees on the ‘scene’ so yeah…

Before the even finishes Altaïr’s memories, he’d most probably already made his escape after cleaning the scene.

And that’s when…

The Bleeding Effect starts…

Option 2: Full Spy AU where every Assassin is messy and Desmond has to clean after them

Okay, this one plays loose with the lore.

In this one, the Brotherhood is a secret organization that has the capital and the influence that a usual Hollywood super spy organization has.

And Desmond is the poor son of a high ranking member of the organization. He was being trained to be an operative but he didn’t want to be an operative like his father.

So… he became a cleaner instead.

In this one, I think it would be fun if Desmond is just some poor cleaner who has to clean up for the messiest of the operatives because he’s one of the best cleaners.

So the setup could be Desmond appearing on the scene and deducing which of his messy ‘regulars’ did this one and he all have nicknames for each of them.

One of them is super good at his job that Desmond just have to take care of the body most of the time. That one he calls “the light of my life” because it means a quick easy job then Desmond can just chill somewhere and see the sights until he’s called again.

Another one is someone who always has to chase their target and dear god, Desmond wants to strangle this operative so badly because Desmond has to clean up multiple places and that includes CCTVs used by the local government for the roads and such. That one he calls ‘the bane of my existence’.

The funny thing?

Both operative are the same person: Altaïr who seesaw between absolutely the best or having a bad day that can only be summed up as “the universe is conspiring against him to get some cardio today”.

Of course, there’s a lot more operatives that Desmond cleans after.

There’s one that liked to actually steal shit and Desmond just usually make that a burglary gone wrong most of the time.

There’s another operative who may or may not have a dog that he uses to rip apart his target and Desmond always prays the scene is somewhere outside so he can just make it look like a wild animal attack and always hate it whenever it happens in an office building or anywhere indoors to be completely honest.

There’s another one that tries to be sneaky but that only makes Desmond’s life harder because he has to make sure to look everywhere just to be sure that the sneaky operative didn’t miss or fuck up somewhere.

In other words, Desmond has a lot of complaints for his regular operatives XD

#murder cleaner desmond #two ideas for the ‘price’ of one #lol #yes #i am basing altaïr’s part #on how ac1 assassinations can be super sneaky #or would lead to chasing the targets everywhere XD #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot #i guess i can tag #altaïr ibn la'ahad #too since i did name him specifically XD

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facts-i-just-made-up · 1 year

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How do people get married?

All kinds of ways now, but it wasn't always so diverse. Long ago, there were only a few marriages and those were well recorded. In fact, we know the time and date of the very first wedding ever to take place, and have details of the ritual that took place.

The year was precisely 58,891 B.C.E. Though months have shifted since then, we know it took place at summer solstice at midday, and was under the shade of an orchard near the shores of Kuwait Bay.

The wedding was that of Mem and Selek, two hairstylists who decided to merge their lives and hair styling empires after meeting at the 13th annual Proto-Dilmunic Hair Product Expo (which featured the invention of shampoo, which then consisted solely of snake bile). Their romance was well known across the pre-agricultural civilization. It was said in petroglyphs of the era that Mem's love for Selek was such that when he would catch sight of Selek from his barber shop, he would likely shave the entire head of his client while distracted. Selek also loved Mem beyond compare, and was noted by other petroglyphs to frequently give him a "free trim and shave," which was an ancient euphemism for mutual oral sex while dipped in honey in a stone pit, as was the tradition at the time.

The Mem/Selek Wedding took six hours to conduct, and included a feast, an orgy, a combination feast/orgy, another feast, and a brief ceremony involving the smashing of a cup. As glass had not yet been invented, the cup was stone and this took up most of the time. Following this ceremonial act, there was another feast, a retelling of the entire history of civilization (thankfully as civilization was only a few weeks old at this point it didn't take long) and another orgy.

Of their future together we know little, except that they did not ever divorce, and they lived to the old age of 900 years, which confused everyone until some archaeologist figured out that they were using lunar years. But their wedding ceremony caught on and was for over ten thousand years the standard wedding ceremony across the entire span of humanity, which in those days covered almost 50 square miles.

#marriage #mawidge #weddings #history #unreality

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insomniac-pbparker · 8 days

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do u have any mems you visit a lot?

Definitely!

Some stuff from highschool, some stuff from when MJ and I were dating, hanging out with Miles, Miles and Ganke trying to teach me some ASL, and a bunch of other stuff I could make a separate post on

But, there're three things that usually stick out over the other mems and such, which was a.) rock climbing + getting coffee with Harry every once in awhile, b.) driving through the city around late at night with MJ, and c.) kinda just messing around with tech in Otto's lab? Fun stuff:)

Ask game!

#peter prattles #and some less postive memories but those aren't fitting the vibe of the post #harry got a lot of coffee when we went to cafés. it was kinda concerning at times but who am I to judge #answered asks #ask games

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aaronburrdaily · 1 year

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May 2, 1809

Wind all night good, and still on. Two sprightly, sensible women on board, Mrs. Daily and Mrs. Barnes, going to join their husbands, who are in Sweden. Mrs. B. has a very fine little girl about 4 years. I took possession of the long boat. Made a sort of lounging place, where, with an umbrella, I read much at my ease; taking no notice of any one, not even les dames. My territories were invaded yesterday by Madame D. Reads remarkably well, and is indefatigable. Read to me all M’lle Wollstonecraft's “Tour through Sweden,” and the greater part of Sheridan’s “Revolution of 1772.” Madame B. has been some years in Russia. Shipwrecked on the Russian coast lately on her way to England. Passed through a variety of adventures. Played much at chess with Captain Nordenskold, of the Swedish navy, who is rather my superior at chess. Wind still good. At 5 we saw the church and lighthouse of Gottenburg,¹ on the shore. Entered the harbour at 12. Anchored at the lower town. Sent up our passports by the captain. At 2 came on board the two husbands of the ladies. Both prepossessing appearance and manners. Permission came by a custom-house officer to land; our baggage to be taken to the custom-house. Went in custom-house boat with several of the passengers, being nearly two miles to the city. Enter the canal of the main street. Our baggage all passed without any troublesome search. Trunks merely opened for form. My sack, the article about which I was most apprehensive of trouble, on account of the books it contained, passed without opening. But my large trunk, containing all my clothes, is missing. I sent by the captain M’Donnaugh’s letter to Malm et fils,² with a note requesting them to provide me a lodging. While at the custom-house, a brother-in-law of Malm came from him to show me my lodgings. Smith, the British consul, hearing that I had a letter for him from Colonel Mosheim, came also to tender his services. Mr. Oppenheim, of Memel, merchant, fellow passenger, very civil. Offered me a room at his quarters, which, fool-like, I did not accept. Alas! my trunk, my trunk! My lodgings very commodious. Three large rooms well furnished, but not a creature in the house speaks one word of any language of which I have the slightest knowledge. Made my landlord understand that I wished to go to the theatre. He went with me. Paid for two seats in the pit, the boxes being all full. All pantomime to me. Much amused with two young girls in boys’ clothes, tight pantaloons and short waistcoats, one of whom played admirably. The ballet and pantomime amusing enough by force of novelty. Two good dancers. One of each sex. Malm’s young man, seeing me in the pit, got me a place in the box. Out at 10. Got home, but could not make my host understand that I wanted a dish of tea. After labouring in vain for a quarter of an hour, was obliged to take him out to the house of a Frenchman, who spoke Swedish, and who explained for us. Tea was got very cheerfully. A long pipe and tobacco. My bed had a single light coverlet, not heavier than a sheet. No other covering. But, being quilted down, found it very warm. Mem.: While at the custom-house, Captain Nordenskold brought and introduced to me his brother, a lieutenant of artillery, and desired him to devote himself to me. The Lieutenant speaks a few words of French, but no English.

1 For Gothenburg. In Swedish, Goteborg, Goth-city. 2 And son.

#Aaron Burr #The Private Journal of Aaron Burr

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