Tumgik
#tw (below cut): medical stuff
Text
1 week from today is my last day in the apt. I’ll put the whole description of the situation below a read more if you haven’t heard about this yet.
Please continue to share and donate as you can.  
eB@y Listings (more to come): https://ebay.com/usr/dandyc60 
GFM: https://gofund.me/978fb41c 
V$nmo: @.clbrown91 
I also have Chime, so moots if you do, too and wanna transfer that way, DM me.
Hi, I'm Cassie. I'm 32, and I have a laundry list of mental and physical disabilities that have made it impossible for me to work any longer (since September 15, 2022). I have undergone a lot of testing and am still working out with some providers exactly what is causing all of my symptoms. Most notably I am switching PCPs for the 2nd time in a month (but at least I’m just switching back to where I should’ve just stayed at the office my mom still goes to and a doctor I know from when I went there as a teen/young adult) and rheumatologists for the second time in 3 months (because the one I actually liked left the practice). I also need to see dermatology, but the soonest new patient appointment at any location in their network (that takes my insurance) when I called them in December 2022, was in SEPTEMBER 2023, so that’s gonna be awhile.
I managed to escape January and February's rent at my current apartment thanks to the donations I received on this fundraising page. However, there was a hearing on April 4 before the local judge for my eviction due to non-payment of rent. I was able to explain to the judge and rep from my rental agency (who went to school with my mom; small town) what was going on, and the judge agreed (as did the rental agency) to what’s called a pay and stay. I had 10 days (until April 14) to pay them all the back-owed money and then could just keep paying every month. Of course that did not happen and earlier this week a notice was taped to my door that I will be forcefully evicted May 1 at 12:01 am if all back owed rent and and their legal fees (which I don't plan to do at this point because it’s just a game.)
Going forward, my plan is to obtain a larger vehicle that it would be more possible to live out of (a van or or larger SUV). If anyone local (Central PA) has any leads on somewhere or someone that might have a relatively inexpensive minivan or cargo van-type vehicle available, please let me know. As I, unfortunately, totaled my car last Wednesday (April 19) coming home from Urgent Care no less, I no longer have that trade value to rely on even. So I need to come up with at least $3k to just buy an old but operational van and ideally as soon as possible so I can start figuring out what I can keep with me, what will go to storage, and what I can sell or donate or throw away.
The county in which I reside doesn't have any emergency shelter resources where I'd be welcome as a queer, single, disabled, atheist. The only shelter in the county is run by a religious organization, and they require you to attend and actively participate in religious services to stay there. There are a few smaller organizations, but they are all for very specific populations (single mothers, domestic violence survivors, recovering addicts, etc.) or already have years-long waiting lists (including getting a section 8 voucher which isn't even accepting applications and hasn't been for over a decade because there are that many people on their waiting list). The local LGBTQIA+ organize does have housing grants, but they require you to have proof of at least some income to get them. My therapist is trying to get me into the county behavioral health case management program which may open some other doors, but it is not guaranteed. She sent the referral almost 3 weeks ago and I have heard nothing since; I know they’re already overworked, so I was probably just too complex of a case to add to someone’s work load.
List of my disabilities (I am more than happy to field questions regarding these and how they affect my ability to work, etc. via email, twitter, tumblr ask box, etc.):
Rheumatoid Arthritis (for which I am on immune-suppressing medications that have side effects including chronic fatigue and increased susceptibility to all illness - including the one I have right now which only immune-suppressed people ever get)
Fibromyalgia (for which I have adverse reactions to the first 3 of 4 medications on the market. l am titrating up on the 4th and final medication on the market and crossing my fingers at this point. I am in Physical Therapy two times per week; was three for many months to help with stability and strengthening).
Osteoarthritis (in almost all of my major joints; knees, hips, elbows, shoulders, as well as throughout my spine). My right knee has given me problems all my life (for a reason I don’t really want to get into today); I tore my labrum in my right shoulder in June 2018 and had it repaired surgically on December 21, 2018. When I went in for my follow up first thing was ‘You’re allergic to adhesives. That should NOT be that red or itchy.” Oops. Second thing he said was “Had to check your wrist band after I got a look inside your shoulder (cause the surgery is done face down) to make sure I had the right patient. The inside of your shoulder looks like you’re in your eighties.” I was not even 28 at the time.
Hypermobility Syndrome (which causes instability and proclivity to injury; it also means that the ways I’ve learned to sit that a comfortable to me are probably absolutely wild for anyone else. My PT caught me sitting in a chair with the soles of my shoes together and the outside of my feet against the floor and looked at me like I was insane. I also dislocate joints without realizing it on occasion.) - it's probably actually hEDS but the closest doctor that'll test and adult for that is 90 minutes away.
PCOS (I’m not on Metformin ER to help control this, though I haven’t seen many changes yet. I am under the care of an endocrinologist for this).
ADHD (for which I am medicated with a stimulant - the one that’s been making the nation’s neurodivergent population rage because it’s been on back order for a year)
Various Attachment and Trauma-Based mental health disorders including cPTSD and clinical anxiety. I also believe I am autistic and am about to have an evaluation with the local center for autism and developmental delays as the neuro-psychological evaluation I had at the end of that year was a waste of time and gas money, but that’s another story for another day).
Recurrent Occipital Neuralgia (which causes headaches and difficulty moving my head/neck)
Chronic Migraine (at least 2 or 3 per month; I have Imitrex, but it can only do so much).
Severe seasonal allergies (especially to tree pollen). Like severe enough they had to put intermittent asthma in my chart to get a rescue inhaler approved cause they get that bad.
I am also excessively nearsighted (with astigmatism) to the point where my ophthalmologist has warned me that my retinas are so thin they could detach at pretty much any second.
Even with the new plan going forward, I will still need to pay for phone service (which will like increase so I can use the mobile hotspot feature) as well as car insurance the new vehicle. I hope to be able to afford a campsite at a local campground with electric access for at least part of the summer. If I do not have that option, I would at least like to purchase a small rechargeable (preferably solar charging) generator to have electricity available without killing my car battery every night. I will also continue to need gas money to get to and from appointments and the pharmacy and such and money to purchase necessities not eligible for food stamps (i.e., toilet paper, paper towels, etc.).
More about me for anyone that doesn’t know:
I'm a gray-aro/ace cis-female. Much closer to ace and aro than not.
I'm single (see above) and have no children (nor any interest in ever having any for a variety of reasons; I’m going to ask my OBGYN next time I see her if she can at least take my ovaries out so the PCOS will stop, because the Endocrinologist refused that option).
I don't have pets because my apartment doesn't allow them, but I would love to eventually obtain a service dog (mobility and anxiety/PTSD cross-trained, preferably) and/or have cats. I think if I get a van and get it set up properly, I will probably get a kitten in June. My cousin’s cat just had a litter the other week.
I don't currently use any mobility aids, but my bad days are starting to make it obvious that I will need to in the nearer future than I would like. I got a handicap parking placard just recently which is the first real step in that direction.
I enjoy cooking and baking, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to complete such tasks due to pain. And will be impossible living in a van, though if I get a camp sight I want to get one of those single burner propane camp stoves. I also plan to try to have a mini fridge and microwave in the van itself.
I write fanfiction (which you probably knew if you know me).
I went to college for three years, but I don't have a degree. I was a social work major, and the major classes weren't at all transferable and I could not get through field placement junior year. I've considered going back to school, but at this point, I'm not sure what good it would do, and money would be the ultimate factor.
1 note · View note
gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
Note
Hello I love your short fics you do with LeonxReader. I also saw your “tired, trying and internally dying” and it describes me perfectly. I was also wondering if you would do a LeonxReader with some injury/angst and Leon or reader whoever is the injured one making jokes to try and lighten the situation??? Please and thank you💖💖
Tumblr media
I appreciate that you enjoy my little Leon x reader stuff and Ngl I made that motto up on the fly when making this blog and now I’m only seemingly to live up to it nowadays 😂
Tw: Hatchets being thrown, injuries, violence, gun violence and reader having a gun.
‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not good etiquette to greet guests with such hostility?’ You taunted the villager just as he threw his hatchet at your head but you moved out of it’s trajectory in the nick of time. ‘Ha! You missed!’ You exclaimed which would’ve proved in making the villager pissed, but you noticed the sinister look in his eyes as they moved over your shoulder before a sickeningly satisfied smirk stretched across his face.
Just then a pained shout came from behind you and your blood ran cold. ‘Leon?’ You said under your breath and the smile on the villagers face seemed to only grow, as though he was confirming your worst fear; A scowl then replaced your worried expression as your jaw clenched tightly and your blood began to boil out of anger.
‘Say good night you son of a bitch.’ You snarled as you were quick in drawing your gun before putting a couple of well placed bullets through the man’s head, chest and legs in rapid fire succession; Taking an unsettling amount of enjoyment as he fell off the side of the castle battlements and into the veil of smog below before a faint thud could be heard, indicating that the bastard was well and truly dead.
‘Hey, if your done patting yourself on the back, I’m still very much hurt and would very appreciate if my lovely partner would offer me a helping hand, if that’s not too much to ask for?’ Leon’s voice brought you out of your own head and you were quick to look at him; only for your eyes to focus on the handle of the hatchet that stuck out from his shoulder whilst the steel blade was buried deep into his flesh.
‘Oh my god, Leon.’ You said hurriedly as you rushed to his side, trying not to openly express your internal fretting over him but you obviously weren’t doing so well in keeping your composure, as Leon attempted a smile before placing his hand on your shoulder. ‘It’s no biggie, having a hatchet in your shoulder and all.’ He shrugs with his uninjured shoulder. ‘It could’ve been a hell of a lot worse, so I’d give this experience a five out of ten.’
‘Will you quit it with the joking?’ You said, not finding any of this even remotely funny as you gestured to the hatchet in his shoulder. ‘You’re hurt, seriously hurt-‘
‘oh is that what this searing pain in my shoulder is? I wouldn’t have guessed. Thank you for educating me doctor, you really saved my life.’ Leon cuts you off sarcastically and you looked at him with raised brows and arms crossed over your chest as you impatiently tapped your foot. ‘Your ability to run your mouth hasn’t seemed to be hindered much for an injured man, so you should be up to continuing the mission right?’ You told him, flashing a false smile as you patted his chest rather harshly, causing Leon to wince upon each impact of your hand.
‘No, I would like it very much if my partner got me medical attention before I decided to pull this fucker out myself and bleed to death.’ Leon retorted, mimicking you by raising his brows and tapping his foot. The sight was quite humorous that you had to stifle a chuckle behind you hand because of it, before regaining your composure as you then sighed loudly as you moved yourself to Leon’s side and usher him to where you met the merchant last.
Yet with how slow Leon was taking his strides, you couldn’t help but crack a joke at his expense. ‘C’mon grandpa, it’s time for your daily medication.’ Leon scoffed but couldn’t help the smile that slip onto his lips when he noticed how much you’ve calmed down since first seeing his injury; Being a little pain in the arse seemed to have finally pay off in his favour.
‘You’ve been waiting to make that joke you, haven’t you?’ Leon asked, voice light in humour as he gauged your reaction.
‘Maybe.’ You responded, neither denying nor confirming.
‘Bitch.’ Leon said.
‘Jerk.’ You replied.
473 notes · View notes
smallishimps · 4 days
Text
PSA -TW BELOW
Trigger warning for BURNS and MEDICINAL TALK below the cut
Fizzarolli here, Jamie isn't gonna be coming to front for a day or two at best. For the scary stuff that happened, and why, keep reading unless this stuff really really bothers you.
We were making dinner for the family today and managed to pour very hot water onto our stomach. The body is not in danger and we didn't need immediate medical attention, but due to Jamie's source trauma, he is too scared to come up front except to talk to VERY specific people. We're really really sorry about this and hope that everyone understands.
We have a high-end first-degree burn across our tummy and it is very hard for us to sit at our computer because our tummy is tender. This means drawing-which was already very slow to begin with-is probably coming to a complete halt for a little while.
The REST of our littles and flips who have a profile, are gonna be online the best they can! We hope everybody understands the circumstances and want to let everyone know that we love them! :)
35 notes · View notes
xchxsex · 3 months
Text
Mending Your Pain: Mark Hoffman NSFW
Tumblr media
AN: Ive had this written for a while but I’ve never uploaded on here before and tbh i don’t think my work is up to par with other creators. I thought id give it a shot though. I have more of the series posted on my instagram which is the same as my tumblr.
TW: light blood play, degrading, praise, rough sex, oral (m and f receiving)
I wake up to a rustling sound in my living room. I turn to look at my clock. Jeez, its 2 am, what could be going on?
I get up and begin to walk out my bedroom door. I hear a familiar groan in the hallway. “Mark?,” i ask to the darkness in front of me.
I find the light switch and flick it on. He’s standing there, a gash on his forehead, a busted and bleeding nose and a busted lip. Thats just what i can see.
“Hey princess,” he says as i run to him.
He’s holding his side and is clearly in pain. “What happened?”
“A call didn’t go so well. He had some friends i didn’t know about and i didn’t have backup.”
I go to touch his side and he groans.
“Shouldn’t you be at a hospital?”
He’s breathing heavy.
“I probably should, but my princess always makes me feel better.”
I smile. I still think he should go to the doctor but maybe i can help. Ive been trained in some medical stuff which he probably already knows. “Here ill take a look.”
I take him back to my bedroom and sit him in my chair.
“You look good in my shirt baby,” he says.
I forgot i was wearing it. I put it on the night before because i missed him and wanted to feel comforted by him.
I go and get my first aid kit and my sewing kit incase i need it. I come back in and he’s sitting with his legs spread open, slumped down in my chair, smiling at me. I know he’s trying to get me going.
First, i check his nose and make sure it isn’t broken. When i touch it he grunts a little.
“Its not broken but it’ll definitely be bruised,” i tell him.
I take a wipe and wipe the blood from his nose and put a bandage on it. His lip will have to heal on its own but i can at least clean it up.
As i lean over and wipe his lip, he’s looking me deep into my eyes, his hands working their way up my back. He’s making me nervous.
I swallow back my emotions and continue to clean up his lip. Its his head that I’m worried about. I rinse it out with saline solution and dab it with gauze. I don’t think it’ll close up on its own.
“I think you’re gonna need a few stitches, can you handle that?,” i ask.
I look him in his eyes.
“Yeah, i can handle that. I have a high pain tolerance, go ahead,” he says in a certain kind of voice.
I open up my kit and grab a needle and thread. I get it ready and grab my lighter to sterilize it. As I’m about to loop it through the gash, his hand goes and sits on my ass.
“Just looking for something to squeeze if it hurts too bad.”
I roll my eyes at him. He grabs my throat and forces me to look at him.
“You wanna do that again?,” he says with a look in his eyes that he’ll make my eyes roll in a different way if i keep on.
“N-no… sir” i say.
He releases my throat and i can actually do what i need to. I get it looped through the first part and he’s squeezing my ass. I knew he was going to even if it didn’t hurt.
I continue with the stitches until i get most of it closed. When i get to the last stitch, i pull it all together and knot the end. I cut the thread and dab it with more cleaning solution.
“Okay, its all done,” i say.
I move and turn away from him for a second. I hear him stand up.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?,” i hear him say.
I turn back around to face him. I don’t know why he’s making me feel so nervous, like I’m a teenager facing my crush in a school hallway.
He’s taking off his jacket and lays it on the chair. The shirt he’s wearing is tight and conforms to his figure. Bits around his neck and armpits have sweat stains. I swallow again, holding back the throbbing thats begun below. He lifts his shirt up and pulls it off. I notice the giant purple and blue blotch that contains the pain he’s feeling. I notice other things that keep my eye focused on him.
His pants have slightly fallen to where i can see his v line leading to something i want so badly right now. What i would give to trace it with my tongue. His body is glistening with sweat in the path of my light.
“Aren’t you gonna come look at it?,” he says as he walks towards me.
He’s borderline on top of me, his broad frame making him seem bigger.
“S-sure,” i say, still not looking up at him.
I put my hands on his side and press around. He groans, not in enough pain to have an injury; just a giant bruise.
“I think you’re okay,” i say.
Im still admiring his body, the ways his muscles contort under his skin and thickness when he moves. My eyes move to his waist and hips, a perfect place for my legs to be wrapped around.
“Actually, i think i have some cuts on my thighs,” he says as he starts undoing his belt.
My insides and clit are throbbing like the beat to a metal song. He takes off his belt and steps out of his pants. I do notice some minor cuts on his thighs, but what i really notice is hard to look away from.
He’s wearing tight, dark blue underwear that conform to his hips and thighs and… him, greatly. Him. His cock is hard and going down his leg, twitching every now and then, like its begging to be emptied inside me. Im sure my face is flushed and my legs are shaking. He wants me to give in and break, but i wont. Not now.
“You should be fine, they’re just little scratches,” i say.
“Hm, maybe you should check my back then.”
He turns around like he knows he’s breaking me. He is, but he doesn’t have to know that. His back. God, his back. It’s sculpted and firm. The muscles he uses to carry me and throw me around like a rag-doll. My eyes move further down to his ass which is being held nicely in the underwear. Theres maybe one tiny scratch on his back.
“Your back is fine,” i tell him.
He turns around to face me. He’s looking at me, pondering whats going through my mind right now. He puts his hand on the desk beside my leg that hes now backed me up onto.
“Let me guess… you don’t want to give in and say that you were looking at my body and all of the dirty things it does to you. You think that you’re stronger than your urges for me and you want to try to make a point?,” he says while looking in my eyes.
Theres the nervousness again. I don’t have to respond, my face says it all. He takes my hand and puts it to his chest and slowly runs it down his body, my fingers pressing into his warm flesh.
He keeps going slowly until he gets to the band of his underwear. He starts to pull down his underwear using our hands. I don’t know how much longer i can take.
My insides are begging me to give up and let him take me but i want to hold out. He pulls his underwear down past his cock and it springs out. He lets out a breathy moan in my ear. He has a drop of pre cum dripping down his tip, still throbbing in sync with my insides. God i cant speak anymore, all i can do is stand here and let out little whines like a dog begging for food. I need the pleasure only he can give.
“Hmm, I’m impressed princess. But we both know you cant handle the way i touch you.”
He runs his nails gently up my thigh, his hand spreading to cup my thigh at the top. I cant break eye contact with his cock. He tilts my chin up to look at him, I’m biting my tongue.
“I know, its hard to not look at. Its big and makes you feel so good doesn’t it? You like the way I throb while I empty myself inside you?,” he says as he tucks my hair behind my ear.
It feels like I can’t breathe. I can’t- i cant do it anymore. I can’t think about anything but having him inside of me, releasing the tension thats built inside me.
“Please..” I whimper.
I run my hands up and down his body.
“Please what?,” he says, his hand going up my back. He moves closer so that his cock is resting on my thigh.
“I need you to- to take me,” i say, unable to form my words right.
“Hmm, i don’t understand?,” he says as he brushes my hair away and starts kissing my neck. “Do you want me baby?,” he whispers in my ear.
Thats it. I wrap my legs and arms around him, grinding onto his leg. He grabs my throat and squeezes.
“Tell me that you want me, get on your fucking knees and beg for me,” he groans. He backs off of me and i get down on my knees. He rubs his tip on my lip and i taste his salty pre cum.
“I want you inside of me,” i hear myself say,” i want to trace the dips of your muscles with my tongue,” i add on, hoping that he’ll give me something that will stop me from soaking my underwear.
He looks down at me and licks his lip. “Then go right ahead.”
Sometimes the way he looks at me, it tells me he could never say no to me. He loves the feeling of my mouth around his cock. You know what? He deserves to be teased too. I don’t take his cock in my mouth. I pull down his underwear and kiss on his thighs leading up to his stomach. I lick a streak up the contour of his v line. I look up and his jaw is tense. I’m getting somewhere.
His hand goes on the back of my head and presses me closer to him. I need him just as badly as he needs me.
“I suggest you put it in your mouth before i shove it in,” he says.
I give into him. I take him in my hand and put his tip in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around it, but i have a different plan. I know where his sensitive spot is. I move underneath his cock where his tip meets his shaft. I gently suck on that and his hands instantly grab onto my head.
“Fuck,” he groans before he pulls my head away entirely. His cock throbs. Guess he couldn’t handle it.
“You couldn’t handle me sucking your cock?,” i say in a tone that will definitely come back to haunt me later.
“Oh ill teach you a lesson on not being able to handle something.” He pulls me up by the throat and takes me to the bed. “You’ve barely seen what my tongue can do to you. I already can make you break so easily. I will end you this time.”
He lays me down and pulls off my underwear, pulling up my shirt enough to expose my breasts. He puts his mouth to my hole and i cant even describe what he does.
He starts to suck and lick and kiss and bite all at once it feels like. The pleasure is so intense my back arches, i grab onto him and try to push him away. He’s holding onto me tightly. I cant get away from him. I shouldn’t have teased him.
My hips squirm without me even trying to. My legs are shaking as he holds them down. The combination of how sensitive my clit is from being so fucking turned on and what he’s doing with his mouth is so intense. Im flooding his mouth and he doesn’t stop, he’ll never stop. Every time i cum i get more and more sensitive.
“Please,” i beg and whimper over and over again.
He keeps going for what feels like forever. I’ve lost count of the orgasms just from his mouth. My body keeps reacting to the movements of his tongue, but i feel like I’m going to pass out again. My tight grip on his hair has gotten to me just resting my hands on his head. My body is aching for more. The muscles in my thighs can’t tighten around his head anymore.
When i stop begging for mercy, he finally stops. His face slick and glistening with my juices. He crawls on top of me and makes me look him in the eye with a firm grip on my chin.
“Do you understand me?,” he asks.
I make out a breathy “yes”. I just realized we haven’t even had sex yet and I’m already so worn out.
“Don’t worry princess, ill be gentle.”
I still want him inside me, i just don’t know how much i can handle. He slides into me and i let out a whine. He pulls up my legs to rest on his shoulders. He holds my hips as he slowly thrusts into me. His mouth falls slightly open as small moans escape from his lips. He brushes my hair behind my ear out of my face.
“I like fucking you in my shirt, you look so pretty and ruined in it.” His thrusts start to speed up little by little.
Soon he starts doing that final thrust that feels incredible. The way he curls his hips just a bit at the end drives me wild. I don’t even care if i cum again tonight, i just want his cum inside me. I crave it.
He kisses me and i taste the blood on his lips. It sounds gross, but it only makes me want him more. Soon we’re wrapped around each other, kissing, sweating, begging for each other. I bite his busted lip and he groans. His cock throbs in me. Maybe he secretly likes pain a little too.
I taste his fresh blood in my mouth. His hand goes around my throat and breaks the kiss. He stops thrusting. He wipes his lip off with his thumb.
“Open your mouth,” he demands.
I open my mouth and he rubs his blood stained thumb on my tongue. Maybe I’m as fucked up as he is. I suck the rest of his blood off. He smiles down at me.
“God you’re a dirty girl aren’t you?”
“Only for you,” i tell him.
He kisses me harshly and starts thrusting even faster. “Dirty girls make me want to fill their insides with my cum.”
Im moaning for him again. “Please cum inside me,” i beg.
“Yeah? You haven’t had a load inside of you in a little while. Maybe thats why you’re so fucking tight around me. Your body wants my cum that bad?” His thrusts are getting sloppy. His moans are getting louder.
I want him to cum so badly. He’s holding onto me so tightly. “God you’re gonna fucking make me cum,” he accidentally whimpers.
He’s never made such a noise but it makes my insides quiver. The vein in his forehead pops out and his jaw tenses. He’s so close. I think i know how to get him to cum.
“Cum inside me daddy,” I whisper in his ear.
He groans and throbs as he finishes in me. I squeeze his cock tightly and milk him dry. He paints my walls with his warm seed until he’s empty. His hand goes around my neck.
“Call me that one more fucking time and ill make it the last thing you say before you get my cock rammed down your throat.” He knows he secretly likes it when i do it.
He pulls out of me and his cum pours out, gushing down my ass and off the bed. He grabs his clothes and puts them back on, wincing if something hits his side.
I slide off of the bed and stand like a newborn deer. My legs are shaking so badly and his cum is still dripping down my leg.
“I have some work to do. Ill come back and see you when I’m done.”
I walk over to him and he holds me up by my waist. He kisses me and i feel like i know what work he has to do. Whether its with that john guy or his police work, he always kisses me like it could be our last.
“Thank you for taking care of me princess. I have one request,” he says.
“What?” He grabs my underwear and hands them to me.
“You put these on and sleep in the mess i made inside you.” I listen to him and put my underwear back on.
“Good girl. I love you,” he says as he puts me in bed and tucks me in before leaving.
26 notes · View notes
altocat · 3 months
Note
CW:
I noticed that one of the main themes of Sephiroth’s character is dehumanization.
It got me wondering, did he ever experience or deal with SA or harassment when under Shinra? R&D stuff or just the way he was paraded around like a public idol? How would he have handled this type of issue?
TWs below the cut just in case.
There's a lot of uncomfortable aspects about Sephiroth's history with Shinra. The way he's treated like a weapon. His fucked up conception. The fact that he was a child soldier who had apparently never really been around people at all before the age of 14.
One of the more understated bits is the very disturbing fixation that Hojo has on his own son. Silver Elite had the whole shampoo infodump of course, but the basic theme of Sephiroth's private "club" (which is RUN by Hojo) is emphasizing how attractive he is. Rebirth added extra grossness by having Hojo further expand on his idea of a hero needing to be "attractive" in order to be beloved by the populace. Whether intentional or not, especially when you take into account that Silver Elite has been around since Sephiroth was a child, it creates the idea of Hojo having some...less than wholesome perceptions about his son and who he needs to be. I'm not saying that Hojo has directly SA'd Sephiroth as I don't think Square is leaning into this idea. But bear in mind that Hojo is implied to be Sephiroth's personal caretaker and physician, on TOP of being his parent and in a position of authority over him. Hojo has access to Sephiroth's medical history, access to private information that no one else will ever have. And he dumps this information out for the public, with a special focus on how "attractive" and "beautiful" his son is.
At the end of the day, I think Hojo has sexually harassed Sephiroth throughout his life. We now have confirmation that he's physically and medically abused Sephiroth over the years. But the sheer presence of "Chairwoman H" coupled with Shinra buying INTO it and exploiting it to keep Sephiroth popular is just...really disconcerting. Sephiroth is completely indifferent to his fame and his fans, so he's not sanctioning this information. But the fact that he doesn't stop it either suggests that there is still a level of control and authority over him by Shinra's upper management. And keep in mind that they RAISED him. This is basically your "parent" violating you every single day of your life while you're also told to go out and kill people and also kill your friends while you're at it. And there's nothing you can really do about it because there's nowhere to go and no one to be. They are all you have, all you have ever known. You have to obey them, even when you absolutely despise them for what they're doing.
Sephiroth is responsible for so many reprehensible acts. But he is justified in hating Shinra for everything they did to him. And I think his reactions in canon are his own little way of getting back at what they did. Sure, Sephiroth has let go of a lot of his humanity. But what remains still seems to remember the people who made him what he was. And in destroying the planet, he destroys THEM as well.
42 notes · View notes
shares-a-vest · 1 year
Text
What do you mean it was the anniversary of the death of a dorky gay metalhead???
Tw: medical stuff/hospital setting. it's fairly mild
29th March, 1986
"Hey, Steve?"
He turns in his chair to look at Robin. She's standing side by side Nancy, who has her arm around Dustin, still red-eyed and tired. They'll all tired.
It has been just under 48 hours since Steve had used the last of his strength to lift Eddie (with the aid of Nancy, Rob and the wobbly stack of furniture on both sides of the Gate) out of the Upside Down.
Eddie was barely alive, bloodied and breathing shallow. The hard fall that Steve caught the most of probably not making the situation better as they tumbled back into the real world. Nancy had commandeered the stolen RV to the hospital, dropped them off and doubled back to the Creel house for Max and the Sinclairs.
Almost immediately they were separated, Eddie wheeled off to god knows where, while Steve was treated in emergency at Robin's insistence. Then at some point he'd passed out, a combination of the pain from his wounds and whatever drugs were pumped into him.
This fucking IV. Two days later, he's still hooked up to it, not dragging it along into Eddie's room like he did the first night because Robin has taken to wheeling Steve around in a wheelchair.
He's sitting by Eddie's bedside now. Watching. Waiting for him to wake up.
Apparently he awoke early yesterday morning with Wayne in the room. And if he's being honest (and he feels like shit about it), Steve is jealous he missed it. He was having his bandages changed. An excerise that took way too long because they were all quickly moved into the bowels of Hawkins General, top secret by the time Dr Owens suddenly popped up. By then, government clearance was needed to do any god damn thing. So he'd waited for hours between the old bandages going and the new dressings.
Robin would say it wasn't that long...
Anyway, Eddie had briefly regained consciousness in that time.
And Steve missed it.
He looks at Robin, eyes pleading. He shakes his head.
She thankfully nods, despite the smallest shuffle towards him that has Nancy making a sqeaking noise at her.
"Let's go sit with Wayne and have some lunch," she says quietly, squeezing Dustin (equally hesitant to leave the room) and nodding.
Nancy, ever the level-headed one, even in this situation the Scooby Gang had gotten themselves in, was managing everyone and their emotions. She was a godsend.
He tips his head towards the door, nodding along with Nancy. They trio lingered for a moment longer before leaving to venture up into the world.
Steve watches as the door closes, wheeling closer to Eddie's bed.
He reaches out a hand, stopping as he remembers his stupid drip. He yanks it around the left wheel of his chair, slapping it against the floor to free up some length. He reaches his destination this time, resting his hand on Eddie's right forearm, just below those cursed patch of bats. He grumbles at the sight of them and searches for somewhere else to look.
Eddie is covered in bandages, cuts, dried blood and iodine stains. They are still tubes everywhere, maybe a couple less than when Steve first saw him when he'd crept into his room late last night. He'd needed surgery of course, patching up his left side which had been torn to pieces. A nurse quipped that Steve and Nancy had saved him from blood loss with their triage work.
Turns out Steve had finally found a use for his First Aid training post-Lifeguard life. It's not like any life or death situations happened in Family Video...
He wishes he could sit on Eddie's left side, brush away the hair that was tangled with dried blood. He couldn't reach forward enough to brush away his fringe that's sticking to his forehead either.
Steve runs his palm down Eddie's right arm, reaching his hand that is only occupied by a pulse-rate clip on his index finger. He intertwines their fingers, shifting forward in his chair as best he can so he can press a soft kiss to the back of Eddie's hand.
He selfishly holds his hand to his own chapped lips, not caring if it's obstructing the pulse device.
He just needs a moment.
He screws his eyes shut, willing away tears.
"Please wake up for me, Eds."
161 notes · View notes
krirebr · 2 months
Text
So, I've been going back and forth about sharing this here but it's really been dominating my thoughts for the last two days, and while I've talked about it a lot with friends, I'm hoping that writing everything down will help me process things. And maybe other people, especially aspec people might be able to relate.
I mentioned on Wednesday that I'd had a really terrible evening that had really shaken and upset me. Below the cut, I want to share what happened.
TWs for references to depression, aphobia, exclusionism, and bad therapy (there's probably a better word for it but I'm not sure what it would be.)
So some of you know that I started this year with a pretty intense depressive episode. It was bad enough that I had to take a leave of absence from work and pretty much spent that whole time crying in bed. It's taken a lot of work over the last few months to get myself back to a more stable place. A big part of that work has been regularly going to therapy.
I went to therapy on and off as a kid and in college, but not at all since then. All of my previous therapeutic experience was long before I came out as aroace. There's a long, ongoing history of aspec identities being medicalized and pathologized and that's something I was very aware of while looking for a therapist this time around. But I was also really desperate for help. So I chose as wisely as I could and crossed my fingers.
I chose a queer therapist who specialized in LGBTQ issues. I told them I was aroace in my first session and while they didn't seem very familiar at all, they also didn't make me overly explain myself or want to focus on that rather than the very real and urgent issues I had come to them for, which is what I'd been most worried about.
As I continued to meet with them weekly, they would sometimes ask questions about it, and while it was pretty clear they didn't really get it, they were respectful about it and it wasn't interfering with the help I actually needed.
That brings me to my appointment this Wednesday. I didn't have anything really pressing to discuss so they asked about my plans for the week and I mentioned that I was getting my hair cut and I was excited because I've been feeling lately like my hair is really hetero (I use that word instead of straight because my hair is so, so curly 😂) and I was looking forward to having queer hair again. They stopped. "Wait," they said, "I'm confused. Why did you use that word to describe yourself?" It had never occurred to them that aspec identities would be considered part of the queer community. They, in fact, had an incredibly narrow definition of the word queer - gay, just gay. And they didn't consider asexuality or aromanticism to be orientations at all.
My memories of the following conversation are pretty jumbled, but some highlights included such chestnuts as "What if you meet the right person one day?", asserting that the A in LGBTQIA+ stands for ally, there has to be a sexual component to romantic relationships, and "everyone has to have attraction, humans are sexual beings." They also said that we should dig into my childhood going forward because they were sure there was something there that caused this. I had a pretty traumatic middle school experience (bullying and some psychosomatic stuff that stemmed from that) and they were pretty eager to blame all that for this.
I became increasingly defensive and combative as this conversation went on (which if you know me, isn't like me at all). It ended with us both feeling very bad and uncomfortable.
I think they kind of came around a little bit by the end. They seemed open to educating themselves and even sent me a link to an article they'd found after our session. And that's great, I guess? But the whole thing made me want to crawl out of my skin. I cried a lot when I got home.
I'm not exactly sure what to do from here. My initial plan was to go next week, talk through what happened, offer some context for why I had gotten so defensive, and discuss together whether this was going to be a good long-term fit. But that's feeling less and less likely the more I think about it (I haven't been able to stop thinking about it). This is just such a big part of who I am. And it's a part of myself that I like and am proud of! And I just can't imagine a situation where I would ever feel safe talking about this aspect of my life with them. And I don't really want therapy where I'm constantly having to censor myself. So do I even go to my next appointment? I really don't know.
I know there's a lot of hopelessness in the aspec community around getting mental health care and I really don't want to add to that. I don't want to believe that we can't get help for our actual issues without mental health professionals just wanting to fix things that don't actually need to be fixed. And I hope that's not the moral or ultimate outcome of this story. I've talked to my very lovely network of queer friends and several of them have already said that they'll reach out to their contacts to find some recommendations for me. I deserve to get the help that I need in a space that is actually safe. And my need isn't as urgent as I was. I can take my time now to find someone I'm fully comfortable with.
I'm not sure exactly why I shared this. I don't always get so personal on here. And some of you have already heard it (thank you for being such good friends, seriously). But it's just been festering inside of me for the past two days and I really needed to share it. Thank you for listening.
16 notes · View notes
legendaryrooftopscene · 5 months
Text
TW medical/grief below the cut, I’m serious it’s not nice stuff
Sorry to put this here but my brother follows my main blog and I need to put this somewhere. He’s been dying of cancer for five years, declining slowly all this time. There’s been ups and downs in his care and treatment. He was given 6 months to live at diagnosis so that he’s lived this long is incredible. But it’s been a hard fight and this is the start of the end. He’s too sick to continue treatment. Two months ago, the cancer paralyzed him from the waist down. Now, he’s entering end-of-life care. Without treatment, it will be weeks only before he’s gone. I live across the country and low on time off due to helping my folks when he was paralyzed. I can take 5 weeks unpaid time off, and I need to do it. I’m just feeling stuck and scared and sad and tired. Grief has been chasing me for five years and it’s finally catching up.
21 notes · View notes
notzawzark · 2 years
Note
I really enjoyed your story a part two would be lovely but do not push yourself and have a lovely day
GHOST (mw2) X MALE READER (platonic) PT2
woooooo yeah baby, thats what ive been wait for, thats what ive been taking about, wwoooooo, another installment of my poorly planned fanfic
as perusual: sorry for any typos, and do not expect some grandiose writting, i am not that smart
CW/TW's: toture, gore, vomit, if i should add more just tell me and i will
I throw on a shirt. A button up. Not one I chose myself, but its not like I hate it. Its ugly but in a charming way. I put on leather boots, keeping the pants I wore to sleep on. Its not my best outfit, but considering how little sleep I got last night, I don’t anyone will care. I sure as hell don’t. 
I leave my room, entering into a hall. The cold concrete  below me tapping under my feet. I stop in front of ghosts room. I hear talking on the other side of the heavy metal door. Faint, but still there. The guards posted in front of the door ask me if I want in. I tell them no. I want to get somethings first. I wonder the halls. Looking for the stairs up. The building were currently holed up in (and have been for awhile) is some old abandoned hospital. When we first set up here, it was trashed. To this day  It still doesn’t look very homely, but its better then it was.
Ive been stashed away in the basement, Also where the interrogation room is set up. i find the stairs, ascending up to floor level. I make my way to the current medical ward. there are so many people. You wouldn’t expect this place to be so packed, but it almost always is. Most of the people here are good. Civilians. Simply people in need of doctors, but without the money to get any. Cant say the same for the people stationed in the basement.
“hey.” I try and get the attention of one of the makeshift medical staff. His name is Chester im pretty sure. “shit-“ he turns around, startled. he was tending to some random sick person. Cant tell why their sick though. “(reader)!” he sounds pleasantly surprised. Like meeting an old friend unexpectedly. Weve only really ever talked a few times. “I need bandages.” I tell him. He looks around, a but confused, “uhm…” he takes a second “do you mind if I ask why? Or is that.. uh.. can I ask why?” he lowers his voice into a whisper for the last bit, leaning in.
All the ‘doctors�� know who theyre working for. The same man im working for. But that’s about all they get to know. We bring them medical supplies so that they can help their towns people. in return, they fix up anyone we bring to them, no questions asked. It’s a covert deal, and they arent aloud to talk about us. If they did, my boss would probably anonymously tell the police what they have set up here. Only one of the doctors has a medical license.
“the bandages arent for me” he understands that he isnt gonna get much more then that, nodding and leading me away from his current patient. He takes me to a closet “bandages and stuff are in here,” he opens it, “can I ask what type of wound your bandaging?” he asks, leading me in.
“I don’t know.” It sounds like a copout, but I genuinely have no idea. It could be anything. Cuts, burns, chopped off limbs. “oh wow.” He looks worriedly, searching through the random supplies. He hands me a roll of white bandages, “here” and then he goes back to looking around. “what are you looking for?” I peek over his shoulder. “well your probably gonna need more then just the plain bandages, even if we don’t know what you gonna have to fix up.” he hands me some bandage tape. “thank you” I tell him.
we part ways, and I start back to the basement. Stopping on my way to ghosts new room to get a bucket of water, two rags, and a towel.
I stop in front of the door, there isnt any talking now, nodding to the two guards. They go to open the door, but its prematurely opened by someone else. Im greeted by a man covered in someone else's blood. The man with the cart of torture supplies. The butcher. “hi-“ my voice cuts off. “hello.” He looks down at the assortment of things Chester handed me. He grunts, pushing past me, dragging his cart behind him. Its bloody. Very bloody. there are a few loose teeth on it that werent before, and it leaves a trail of blood behind him as he leaves.
I enter the room, hastily met with the smell of blood and vomit. I turn my face, it smells fucking awful. The door is shut behind me. The table has been moved off to the side, and ghost to the middle of the room. Hes covered in his own blood. “hey..” I let out. I try not to let my concern waver my voice. Ghost groans, and then ends up in a coughing fit. His mask is off, but his head is dropped down, facing the floor, blood soaked in his hair. I go over to the table, dropping my supplies down, and picking up his skull mask. “would you like your mask back?” I ask, turning to him. He just coughs more. Im pretty sure he coughed up blood.
I get up closer to him, placing down my bucket of water, his breathing hastens, he turns his face away. It takes a moment for it to click, “oh shit-“ I look at the rag in my hand, “im not gonna water board you bro, I swear.” I panic out, trying to make him less weary of me. 
It doesn’t work much, and he tenses everytime I move. Pulling up my sleeves, I dip the rag in water, and then start to clean out his wounds. There are different kinds. Some deep gashes, some circular holes in his skin, others bruises so blue youd think it hurt his bones. I don’t really get a good look at his face, even while I try and get blood off of it. he moves his face away everytime I try to touch it. its Understandable, but it makes things much more difficult. 
I give up on trying to clean his face, and just put his mask back on him. He immediately seems more comfortable, still incredibly tense, but less so then before. I continue to clean off all the blood on him. Its tiring. Eventually its done though. I wrap the towel around him, covering him and helping him dry all in one. I get up, and grab the bandages, and tape. i get back to him, placing both on the ground. I open the package for the bandages. 
I cover up most of the big gashes, and even a few of the smaller ones. Im covered in dried up blood now. I clean up around his chair too. Just getting blood up off the floor. Theirs vomit beside him. I begrudgingly clean that up too. I throw the second rag into the bucket. Taking a deep breath ones ive left the floor.
“thanks” ghosts voice sounds hoarse and it cuts out at the end. I go sit up in the table off to the side. “whens the last time you slept” I ask him the first real question of the day. Its quiet for a few minutes until he responds, “four days.” I mouth a ‘wow’ under my breath. I hold my breathing in thought, puffing out once I get to my conclusion. “ill let you sleep the entire time im here.. which should be..” I trail off thinking and doing math in my head, “two hours I believe, if you tell me what you guys know.”
He doesn’t respond. “what about a hint.” I smile at him. “no” his voice sounds more firm. The smile doesn’t fade. “fine, then you wont sleep for another day.” I hop off the table, and get onto the chair that was discarded next to it. Theres still paper and pencils, and so I start drawing. I draw him again. Its quiet in the room for nearly 20 minutes, I look up from my drawing every now and then to make sure he isnt asleep.
Hes falls asleep. I throw a balled up piece of paper at him. He startles up, looking around frantically to assess the situation. He drops his head back once he realizes it was just me. “if you had given me that hint I would have let you stay asleep” I taunt him. “fuck off” he blurts out. Hes getting comfortable, that hes just tired enough to not give a shit.
It gets quiet again.
“you know what-“ I look over to him, getting out of my seat and sitting on the table again. “if you tell me about your family ill let you sleep..” I pause, “that or your name” he looks me dead in the eyes, then up and down. Silence. “how’d you know about my brother?” he asks. A surprise for sure. “we made a little file on you, figuring out everything we could before we ambushed you. It was in that file… one of the few things about you in that file, and not just about ghost.”
“I am ghost.”
“you are a ghost.. you know how hard it was to find that out about your brother? That you even had a brother?”
“that’s the point.” He says in between coughs
I take a deep breath in and out. “I guess it is.” I say looking off.
A silence settles again. For about five minutes. He stares at me for three of them before looking away. “my brothers name was tommy.” I snap my head towards him. I didn’t actually expect him to tell me about his family. “is that so.” I inquire more. “he had a kid.” He continues. “and where is that kid now?” ghost doesn’t answer.
“and what about your dad?” he doesn’t respond, just like last time. I sigh. i want more, but technically he followed the rules I had. “you can sleep.” I jump off of the table, and get back to my drawing. Ghost gets as comfortable in his seat as he possibly can. Wasting no time to getting to sleep.
An hour and a half pass by. Ive filled the entire page with drawings. Ghost is sound asleep- the door starts to open. Shit. “HEY-“ I greet the person at the door loud enough to wake ghost up. “your back early,” I turn to the door. And ghost hurriedly wakes up. “(reader).” ‘The butcher’ greets me back, waving one of his hands stiffly at me. 
“uh- can we have a few more minutes?” I rush out as the large man starts hauling in his cart into the room. He stops in his tracks. Slowly turning to look at me. “your time is up.” fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck “yeah but… i-I I was- I was starting to get somewhere with my… interrogation.”
“where?”
“he was starting to talk about his- uh his family and-“
“the boss doesn’t want to hear about his family.” He cuts me off
I look to ghost, and then to the man in front of me. “yes but-“
“why are you wasting my time (reader)?”
He cuts me off again.
I mumble and apology. I really shouldn’t have fucking done that. Shit, all cause I wanted to show ghost my stupid drawing.
He leaves his cart next to ghost, who has started hyperventilating. “you gave him bandaids.” He points out. “I didn't want him to bleed out.” I  had already thought of an excuse. “I didn’t say you could give him bandaids.”
“yeah but he was probably gonna die”
“I didn’t say you could give him bandaids.” He turns to me. “yeah and the boss didn’t say you could kill him,” I retort.
He picks up a pair of pliers, holding them so tight his knuckles turn white. Hes threatening me. Fuck. “im sorry, I just didn’t want valuable intel to die.” I soften my voice, trying to de-escalate the situation. He turns back to ghost. I start to leave. “your not aloud to leave.” He snaps his pliers a few times to emphasize.
“come on man-“ I turn around towards him, my voice breaking. I don’t want to be here. He hums a bit, snapping his pliers a few more times. He doesn’t respond. “ill get you those drugs you wanted.” He stops humming, and lets the air fill with silence. “alright, you can leave.”
I practically run out of there. I feel bad. I feel bad for ghost. I feel bad about having to steal from the med ward. Shit. I really wanted to show him my drawing. I bet he would have told me it was cool. I get to the showers upstairs, and I wash all of his blood off of me. Then I go to my room. I put the drawing next to the first one. Hopping onto my bed.
If I get caught stealing ill be as good as dead.
hiiiiiiiii i see you made it to the end again, blushes
if everything goes to plan there should be at least five chapters of this fic when im done
173 notes · View notes
honey-rye · 4 months
Text
so! i have no propaganda art planned.
instead i offer you a blurb from the next upcoming chapter;
Chapter 6: Petrichor
@tmntaucompetition
! tw for below the cut; mention of bugs and brief potentially gross scientific examination !
“Oh dearest twin of mine?” Dee calls sweetly.
“What do you want.” Comes Lee’s gruff response. He’d already booted up the screen in their gaming corner.
“Scoff, can a guy not speak with his brother about nonsense?”
“You can. But you never start it with niceties, so what do you want?”
Dee sighs. “Can you extract this things insides for me? I would but.. Eugh.”
Lee snickers at his discomfort, but brings his marginally more skilled hands to the desk anyway. Dee rolls out of the way and watches his brother's shell as he works, sticking the syringe through the holographic walls of the container and extracting the sample with an ease Dee couldn’t imagine having.
He supposes that's why he left the biological and medicinal sciences to Lee. Dee had baseline knowledge of them, as he has in all the sciences that fascinate him so much, but he couldn’t stand the.. Organic stuff. Where his brother thought medicine was cool, and studied hard to make sure neither of them would ever end up hurt without a clue how to heal themselves.
It’s not like their old doctor was around anymore.
But Lee found joy in it, and was always reading up on new medical practices, both in the Human Realm and the Mystic one, so who was Dee to take it away from him.
“One freaky bug sample as ordered, my good sir.” Lee bows dramatically, offering a glowing green test tube.
“Why thank you, how gallant of you to take on this horribly disgusting task for me.” He responds, also giving a bow.
18 notes · View notes
solacedeer · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media
@olivermorningstar I do have answers for these, It does get heavyish
—————
What brings her to different places, i’m going to write something for this eventually (this is the last just Info-dump i’ll make about her).
What kind of music does she enjoy; Probably likes a Lot of Hymns, Campfire songs, (maybe Folk music). Simple melodies with pretty lyrics because she’s not a performer and most of the time she’s playing by ear.
—- stuff you didn’t ask for but felt very “general” ——
Travel, I think her travel depends on where she’s going. She’s probably only been to far off places a few times and years apart. She’s never been to Tanzanite. Achroite she visits but Those are opportunities where she’s gotten to travel with groups, Probably delivery/pickup stuff.
misc;
between “fight, flight, or freeze” she’ll usually take flight. If she’s toughing it out she’ll stand there trembling, fighting the urge to leave.
If she dislikes someone she avoids them. Her lifestyle makes that easy. In a situation where she cannot avoid someone she doesn’t like she makes it clear to them that she doesn’t (in the hopes that will make them leave avoid her)
Cold > Heat > Rain
Superstitious (mostly about wives tales, bad omens)
She carries around a Mouse
Tumblr media
——- back to your questions
What kind of food does she like; Chicken and Rice. Salmon. Raw vegetables and fruit. Plain stuff mostly. Elaboration below
Tw; ED (Orthorexia) under the cut
- Demelza’s got a Peak condition “thing”. It was initially to ensure she had energy for whatever she needed to do during the day, but evolved into a form of Self medication.
- She is convinced Deficiencies like the ones that cause scurvy are the source of all her problems. If she’s having a low period she either needs to leave wherever she is or she is missing something/ate “wrong”.
- I added “Whole Nutrients” (fake term) to her Profile and didn’t elaborate. But Since Nutrition science is still rudimentary she only knows as much as the Fruits sailors keep aboard ships to avoid Scurvy and Whatever is in the Books she can get her grubby non-Academic hands on. Which amounts to Meat, Bread, Water and Fruit. Not much else.
- The result is her eating a lot of the same just to keep her regimen up, Not for enjoyment. The only “good” Meals that she trusts, are found Domestically (someones house). The kind of thing people make for their growing children. Even then if its a little too Salty or the Meat tastes different she won’t touch it for fear of it disturbing her balance.
The Homebrew is the only real exception but theres no real logic to it anyways. She makes it herself when shes in a place for a long time, out of things she sees as good. Its poison sometimes, theres Cognitive dissonance,,
(sorry this parts kind of dreary. Its not just there to be upsetting, it relates back to her story. I know we’re here for fun it just set up.)
6 notes · View notes
thelunarsystemwrites · 2 months
Text
Magical girl Horror! AKA Urchin!
Tumblr media
Magical girl Horror (AKA Urchin!) Stats:
Magic: 1/5.
Aggression: 4/5.
Defensive: 4/5.
Endurance: 4/5.
Evade: 3/5.
Stability: 3/5.
Mortal alignment: Lawful Neutral.
Backstory below cut!
(TW! Talk of medical stuff and injuries!)
In Urchins AU, after Undyne... you know, broke his skull and knocked him out. She realized what she did, and was like, 'Oh shit!' And also realized that this was getting her no where. She scooped him up, and took him to Alphys to try and fix him.
Alphys did what she could. She put a metal plate in where he was injured, along with sewing the shattered bone closed on his other eye. (<- Don't... ask how that works.)
As for his still intact side, she put an artificial eye in it. Adding just a hint of artificial determination into it, causing half the blue brush to turn Red.
When Sans woke up, he was... well. The injury completely scrambled his mind, and he had little moments past the age of a him as a kid.
Undyne couldn't really bring herself to tell Papyrus what had happened, so... she lied and said Sans just went home after their 'meeting.' So now Paps thinks he's missing.
Meanwhile, Undyne started training him, and started calling him Urchin. He got stronger, faster, his HP increased. It was... fine. Though he often acts childish, with occasional episodes of being dead serious.
So by now, Urchin works directly under her, and carries out whatever orders she has.
Now after the monsters finally freed themselves, Undyne learned about the multiverse. She felt threatened by these... magical girls?
So one day she came to Urchin, holding a skirt and said, "Become a magical girl?" And Urchin went, "Oh do I!" And uh, got a little update from Alphys. (Added the metal bow to his skull, which allows him to communicate with Undyne and Alphys.)
And... yeah! As a magical girl, his job is to protect monster kind, even if that means fighting other Sanses. He works for Undyne. And doesn't remember how he got his injuries, or Papyrus or the human Frisk.
6 notes · View notes
felgueirosa · 6 months
Note
if it’s not too triggering, why were you institutionalized for being picky? (If it’s too personal feel free to delete this ask, sorry)
Hi! It's no problem, it is triggering, but i think about it a lot, and it is something i sometimes shared on here, after it just happened, because i was in shock and had to let people know and to reach out like hey? has this happened to anyone else? but right after that it became too hard to put words to and too triggering to talk about so i talked about it less.
but its a story i want to tell now and am becoming more okay with telling, because i want people to know what happens to people, what happened to me, and what could very well happen to me again
and also, it just so happens i have been thinking about it a lot recently and thinking how to tell my story because i have been psyching myself up to tell my girlfriend.
so like. suuuuuuuuper long story below the cut. can be very triggering, its a very upsetting story. tw for like. institutionalization (obvs), suicide, medical abuse, eating disorders, psychiatric abuse, parental abuse (?)
I was kind of institutionalized. At first, it happened almost 9 years ago, I remember the anniversary every year. I was 16, my doctor recommended I be put in a childrens hospital eating disorder program. I have ARFID, no one really knew what it was at the time. I've had it since i was an infant and went from doctor to doctor and no one had ever seen anyone like me or knew what to do. One doctor said I wouldn't live past 21 if I continued to eat the way I do, but clearly that was not the case.
I am forever astounded by the amount of people I run into on here and online in general who identify as having ARFID or being that level of picky eater, though talking with some of them more in depth, it seems like they are often not on the level of pickiness i am on and seem to have experienced less shame and be more open about discussing it though everyone is different and impossible to tell.
I was excited for the program at first before it started. I thought they were going to help me and I would finally be a normal person. I was so tired of being harassed by random strangers, laughed at by waiters, and ridiculed by my family. Every person I made friends with I had to at some point make a terrifying confession to and going on dates (for the small regrettable amount I did it in high school) was near impossible when I had to show the part of myself that I was most ashamed about and hated the most on the first date.
I thought at the program I would find specialists who would sympathize with me and help me and would fix me. And when I got there, before anything even happened, I had to sign all these papers, and my parents did too, and I didn't know what they were, I didn't question it. What I signed didn't even really matter anyways, I was 16. And the first day I brought my phone with me and a book, and my bag with some other stuff. But after I signed everything, they took everything I had away, and we went to this room with all these doctors, 'my treatment team', I had never met them before, they barely looked at me or talked to me, but they talked about me and my 'treatment plan' and they were never caring to me, never talked to me like a person.
The plan, as it was for everyone, was that they give you three meals a day, of whatever food they bring you, you have to eat all of it by the time an alarm they set goes off, you have to drink every drop of water they give you, have to use every packet of sauce they give you. If you don't do this, you get moved down a 'level' and you get privileges taken away. Things like watching tv, or being around other patients, but most of all, I found out that being moved down a level just meant you usually get locked in a room by yourself for a few hours because that happened to me. a lot.
i was very upset when i found this out. this was not helping me. because as i found out, it turns out no one really knows a fucking thing about helping people with mental illnesses or eating disorders or developmental disabilities even though the medical establishment likes to talk about how much it has progressed. they don't know a single fucking thing.
so i finally went out to the common room with the other patients. i was crying very hard and told the doctors that was it i wanted to leave i didn't want to be part of the program. but they told me it was too late i already signed the consent forms. so i don't know if medical consent/institutionalization is still like this almost 10 years later, if someone was lying to me or if this is true, but my mom also told me the same thing, and apparently if you consent to this kind of thing you cannot take it back. which by definition, makes it not consent.
i remember sobbing in the common area with the other patients (they were all girls, about same age as me), and there was another new patient, also sobbing. the other girls tried to comfort us and talk to us, but the orderlies (i don't really know what else to call them, all they really did was sit and watch us and make sure we didn't do anything that wasn't allowed. they were all college girls. they were extremely mean to us, they thought we were being dramatic) wouldn't let them, we weren't really allowed to talk to each other much and we weren't allowed to touch each other and we very specifically for some reason were not allowed to comfort each other.
i was crying especially hard because i knew that this program was expected to last for a couple months. but as i talked to the other girls there the small amount i was able to, i found out that most of them had been there for much longer than a couple months, many of them for over a year. i managed to catch my parents as they were leaving from dropping me off and talking with the doctors (i had only been there still only like 3 or 4 hours) and screamed at them to get me out of here. my mom seemed really shaken by the way i was acting and the doctor told her not to worry and i specifically remember him saying "they all act like this at the beginning".
it is something i will never forget because every time i tried to convince my mom to get me out of there she seem conflicted based on the fact that the doctor said that. and it hits me every time that all the doctors, the nurses, the people working there, can see children. children. acting like that about what they are doing to them and think they are doing the right thing. i will never forget it ever. and every person who came in after me did the same thing! because it was prison! it was punishment! for having a eating disorder! for being autistic! when i was able to talk to my mom, she kept saying "we are not trying to punish you" and the more times she said i realized she was trying to convince herself.
i ate some of the foods they gave me but i never got used to them like they said i would. i just got knocked down a level every time and got locked in a room. and the thing is, unlike most media and reports about mental wards or asylums. it was a nice hospital. it was brand new. the room i was locked in was not a padded room. one of the walls was just a window. and in some ways, that made it worse. because it looked out on a highway and i saw all the cars going to and from work, going to the store, going to eat. and they were so free and they could go where they wanted and eat what they wanted and when they wanted and they weren't locked in a room. and they passed this hospital and had no idea what was happening to me or to anyone else here and it made me so angry and so defeated. i felt so close to being away from a waking nightmare but i knew i would never get there. a year!!! i could be there for over a year.
a year without going where i wanted when i wanted. no access to my phone. i wasn't allowed to see my friends. i wasn't allowed to read my books. i wasn't allowed to eat what i wanted when i wanted. i did therapy a few times a day but it was more like an interrogation. when i was a high enough level to be in the common room, i sat in the corner and did puzzles obsessively so i could just dissociate and focus on the puzzles. eventually the therapist told me i wasn't allowed to do puzzles anymore because it was "distracting from my recovery" and i "wasn't thinking about my eating" (i don't know what the fuck i was supposed to be thinking about). it got to the point where i felt like i didn't have ownership of my own mind anymore. i wasn't allowed to dissociate. i wasn't thinking about what they wanted me to be thinking about.
they told me if i "was good" (aka if i reached a high enough level, not going to happen) i could write them a list of 100 songs. they would load all the songs on an ipod shuffle to loan to me. but only after they listened to all of them first to make sure they were appropriate. they told me if i "was good" maybe i could see my best friend for a few hours for one weekend. a few hours. for one weekend. i was understanding how truly controlling the program was. seeing a friend for a few hours once a month is a privilege. listening to a few songs they approve is a privilege.
but it didn't matter. i realized after the first day that obviously i had to kill myself. i was already in a pretty bad place before the program and was passively suicidal but i realized instantly that i could not live like this and if i was going to be stuck here indefinitely then my only way to escape was to end my life. i didn't have a plan at that point but i knew for certain i was going to do it. the loss of control, the violation, the loss of body and self was unbearable.
every morning they had us strip and then weighed us and did an ekg. why did they have us strip and do an ekg? it doesnt seem like it has much of a point. they watched us go to the bathroom. it all seemed like humiliation and violation for the sake of it.
even after the second day i had realized that i didnt want to be fixed or get better and i had to come to the very quick realization that there had never been anything wrong with me. when i went to therapy they asked me questions like "don't you want to be able to go to restaurants?" "don't you want to be able to eat with friends?" and i realized none of that had to do with my health. the reason i had problems with restaurants was because they didn't accommodate to me and the reason i had problems with friends was all social. all these reasons i had for wanting to be fixed and all these reasons they had for me to want to be fixed were other peoples' problems. the way people treated me was not my problem.
for your treatment plan, one of the first steps was to admit in group therapy that you had an eating disorder and what your problems were (i fucking know) and that would get you more privileges but i decided i wasn't going to do that because i didn't have a problem, my "problem" was everyone else's problem and the way they treated me. so i refused to every session and got locked in the room every time for this. they fucking hated me for it.
if you can't tell how long i was there for based on this. i was only there for a week. because after a week our insurance came back and declined to cover the program. i always hate myself that it was a week. it doesnt feel long enough. for the amount that it did for me. for how much it does to me almost 9 years later. it doesn't feel like enough.
i got home and screamed at my parents. i was so angry. my mom had allegedly been trying the entire time to get me out of the program, but my dad had been trying to keep me in. when i got home my dad had taken away my phone and my laptop and said he wasnt giving them back. i screamed at him and cried and he threatened to call the hospital and have them lock me up forever. i was terrified, i tried to get away from him, to hide. and he got out his phone and took video of me, at my worst moments, he claimed to show to the doctors. i ran away. for a few hours. i had nowhere to go. i ran about a mile. and then sat down outside the rec center and cried until it got dark. and then i went home.
i had nightmares that i was still there for months. it never ended. i was so paranoid about everything. i thought people were coming to lock me up. i couldn't draw any attention to myself or i thought i would be locked up. every time we drove anywhere near the hospital i thought my parents were taking me back there. i was so paranoid i couldn't sleep i couldn't sit i couldn't do anything i had to be looking out for everything and i trusted no one. i walked around, angry at everyone, that they were so carefree in everything and they had no idea what happened to me. i was angry it happened to me and they were worried about things that had no importance. i was angry when adults thought they knew more than me and i felt i had been through more in life at 16 than they had at their age. was it true? i'm not sure.
i think the most important thing i learned, whether true or not, besides not needing to be fixed, was that i could never trust anyone and never ask anyone for help again. i thought they would help me and i was excited. for some time, i thought it was my fault. at least partially. but now i am angry. i was 16. who would do that to a 16 year old who was looking for help because of how people had treated them?
for a while after i talked about arfid a ton on tumblr and also on wordpress. i created the actuallyarfid tag but became disillusioned when so many people in the tag just talked about wanting to get rid of it or their progress in getting rid of it. and eventually i couldn't even talk about it anymore. it was too tied to everything that happened and i was still so ashamed of it. it was to triggering. i stopped.
i think for similar reasons i have stopped associating so much with the autistic community online. i think it has jaded me so much to see so many people who have only had the slightest negative consequences of being autistic and do being autistic like putting on and taking off a coat after something like this happened to me. it was in this program that doctors first told my parents they think i am autistic though i wasnt diagnosed until later. i recognize now that having arfid is part of my being autistic but i don't like to talk about it in the context of having arfid because i don't feel like i 'have' anything. it is just me being me. and i use autistic as a label when i need to explain my needs and differences to people quickly and its fun to make jokes about being autistic sometimes but i dont like to constantly identify myself that way.
my parents are "health" nuts (fake garbage health bullshit) so they were still convinced my eating was going to kill me and many years later have taken me to see several nutritionists. and all these years later, after doctors many years ago declared i had a problem and would die, most of them did not see a huge problem with the way i eat. one of them in particular who i love and have seen over and over again at the behest of my parents has pointed out many things to me. there are plenty of adults who don't eat or barely eat fruits and vegetables. there are plenty of adults who eat the same thing every day (bring the same thing for lunch at work everyday anyone?). the world does not end. if you are different and you do it. then you are a problem and you need to be fixed. but if it is within socially acceptable norms, then it's okay.
i've always thought that some day i wanted to write about what happened to me publicly. in a paper or something. i want people to know. that this happened to me. that this happens to people. still. that it could very well happen to me again. though i'm not sure i could take public response if i did write about it. and after i got out of the program, i wrote it all in a journal, but then ripped it up and shredded it because the words weren't enough. they were so insignificant and i could never ever find the words to capture how horrifying it was what happened to me and how badly it ruined me and destroyed me. it changed my whole life and my perspective on everything. but i think now, almost 10 years later i am starting to find the words. and i think now i am less scared.
17 notes · View notes
zablife · 1 year
Text
Personal stuff below the cut. Medical tw I guess??
My partner randomly started having seizures today and I don't know much more so I won't be active as I stay with them in hospital 😢
30 notes · View notes
fruit-plays · 6 months
Note
Is there any lore or backstory about the island and characters?!? ( if not that’s okay :•] ) I visit your island every couple months it’s just so fun!!!
Thank you so much visiting regularly!! That's makes me very happy to hear!
And yes I do actually have lore!!
Fun fact, I originally wanted it to be a comic and then realized that my drawing skills were....subpar, so acnh island it became instead!
So some story lore below the cut!!!
(TW for some medical trauma involving kids, derealization, and general weird stuff)
So the main character is Tommy! He's depicted as a young boy (roughly around 8 in this version of pigeonhole) he wakes up in a dreamlike version of his town, pigeonhole. He's greeted by his little sister marble* (5) who tells them to leave immediately because it's "not his time yet", pigeonhole is pretty much like purgatory for Tommy and they are actually in a coma in real life due to a near fatal car accident involving a neighbor Tommy knows** and must wake up before the get too far into this "dream" of pigeonhole. Marble acts as a guide to help them return to the real world, as there are forces trying to make Tommy succumb to the dream and stay here forever (essentially dying in the real world)
Um that's it for like background plot? Like I said it was gonna be a comic in my head but because I can't draw...that's as far as I've gotten with it.
Tommy is actually 13 in reality and Maribel/marble is 10 but in this dream version Tommy has regressed to about 8 because he was that age when they first moved to this town.
All of the villagers are supposed to be weird versions of people Tommy knows in reality.
All of the locations on the island are tied to specific memories from Tommy and is why the are important enough to manifest in pigeonhole (his mother works at the post office at the entrance of the island, stuff like that)
**this explains all of the medical equipment scattered around the island and the scary junkyard owned by Roscoe
*Marble greets him here because she's kinda like an amalgamation of a character from his favorite video game and his little sister in real life (her name is actually Maribel)
Some bonus Tommy character traits:
He HATES wearing shoes and socks so in dream pigeonhole he'll never have any
Their favorite color is yellow
His favorite food is beef stew
They are always wearing a cute sweater because his mom used to make them for him because he gets cold very easily (this is just a real trait of mine because I'm cold all the time)
They're terrified of robots
Also if it had been a comic it definitely would have had a happy ending!! Tommy would have successfully escaped pigeonhole and fully healed from the car accident!!
Hopefully this makes sense! If y'all have any questions please let me know!!
9 notes · View notes
kazecoping · 8 months
Note
for admin oliver: 1. what books does gilbert actually like, since i rmr reading that serge tries to get him books but he can be kind of picky with them? 2. can you go more into detail about gilbert's addiction and the reocvery process for that? also which part of recovery/withdrawal/etc is he currently at 3. this might need a tw idk but can you also delve more into gilbert's current issues with eating and the psychology around that? how has the accident impacted them? 4. since his thoughts around auguste start to change in this au and he realizes how bad auguste really was, how does that impact his thoughts on other characters from bonnard to rosemarine even?
claps hands! that's a lot, i have been successfully entertained ... thanks for asking, i shall now answer in a way that hopefully satisfies you!
as always with these long asks, the answer is below the cut! warning for drugs and eating disorder talk, i'd try to be as subtle as humanly possible but ... it's kazeki, so. yeah.
I. gilbert's reading preferences
it's mentioned during his backstory chapters (so around volume 4-5) that he took a liking to erotic novels when he was little, and judging by that scene in volume 11 where he recites something along those lines i'd say that preference hasn't faltered.
so, he enjoys erotic novels, pretty obvious and a canon fact.
but i think he'd also like books on animals, since he doesn't have one at the moment the closest thing he has is a book.
we never talked about the kinds of books serge got him (they were scattered around the room, anyway) but they didn't get much attention from gilbert. he reads them, sure! but he doesn't particularly care for the stories or their contents ...
he'd like very dramatic books, too ...
NULL'S EDIT: Serge definitely did not bring him erotic novels., even if that sort of thing could actually have helped him heal his autonomy or sexuality or familiarity or what not he would Not have done that ghsdhf. But, he definitely would bring him stories, dramas, the 25 cent romance prints (there might be some dicey stuff in those, he is not proofreading them) at a certain point in the story they did find a bible and had a laugh about that
II. addiction, recovery, withdrawals ...
he used the initial withdrawals as a way to inflict pain in himself (so, self-harm)
opioid withdrawals are physically painful, they have a variety of symptoms such as nausea, goosebumps, sensitivity to light, hypertension and, in his case, he had hallucinations at the start (not 100% sure if this last symptom is medically accurate, though!)
anyway, he wasn't having a fun time. it was awful.
he stopped taking the drugs despite having them at hand (as null mentioned)
thankfully, it seems that opioids stay in the system for a few days (not entirely sure, since we don't exactly know what drugs gilbert was taking ... hence why i'm talking about opioids in general) so that's good, but he was jumpy and miserable for a bit longer since he was really, really dependant on them + his body is already a little fucked up and very weak, it probably took longer ... paris messed him up.
but, right now, he doesn't crave them. the little bottle they had is hiding somewhere in a box and gilbert has forgotten about its existence by now. though, he wishes he could go back to them, since that at least helped him "go away" for a moment. i guess he's going to go back to his old habit of daydreaming to make time go by faster.
Null's Edit: It's common for cases of extreme disassociation to alleviate some feelings of addiction. At a certain point, when he decided he needed to go cold turkey off everything, Serge basically took the bottle they'd spent their lifesavings on and hid it. Gilbert does not know where it is. No Opium for Gilbert.
III. disordered eating and "coping" with his current situation
he's been in and off in regards of that, to be honest. sometimes he's hungry, and sometimes he goes so long without eating ... a day or two at most.
he has always struggled with food, that's not a new thing for gilbert (or serge as an spectator, for that matter)
he relapsed (more like, he got worse than he already was) shortly after the accident, yet he kinda had to start eating more so his wounds would heal (bodies need calories and nutrients to do so, and while it wasn't nearly enough, he managed to do it)
he's not truly recovered, he may never be without the aid of a specialist (and they are expensive! he's got a whole lot of issues to take care of, sadly.) but he's hanging in there ...
he doesn't really have a reason to starve himself now, serge is tending to him most of the time already after all! and his reasoning of "maybe if he (auguste) is close to lose me he will appreciate me more" doesn't apply here for the most part, but he's gotten used to eat only when his body can't handle its hunger, or when he's in the right mood.
he's eating, sure, but he doesn't eat enough for someone his age and height.
also, keep in mind that he's pretty depressed, he doesn't feel the need to eat because his appetite has been affected by everything (stress, sadness, just the way he is)
it's mainly out of habit than him actively starving himself, though that also plays a part in what he does ... he's unwell.
the accident only made things worse, though he doesn't really care about weight gain (even if it's not preferred) or beauty, it's partially a need for control (everything is out of his hands and it feels WRONG) and partially because he's sad.
he's so, so sad.
IV. more thoughts about auguste and bonnard (and rosemarine)
so, auguste is out of the equation.
he started to realize that all the stuff that happened to him wasn't normal at some point. he already knew it was wrong (hell, serge told him that a billion times! of course he had to realize at some point) but he was in denial for some more time.
he feels gross, in a way. gilbert already felt weird over the whole thing because he never genuinely liked sex, he was just taught to crave the pain that came with it, he was taught that intimacy was supposed to be painful, and bloody, and disgusting ... and that he didn't have much of a saying in it, anyway.
he was a child, it obviously didn't click until now (or maybe it did, he just chose to ignore it.)
so, i went over his thoughts on auguste in a past ask but, i didn't mention that he (knowing that auguste is his dad) really feels in a different way towards him. sure, he's angry and grossed out, but he's also very affected. not only did he live in a lie for so long, but the person he needed the most (his dad) is the one who did most of the damage.
he hates him, but he can't help but imagine how things could've been if only auguste wasn't the way he is.
bonnard doesn't occupy most of his thoughts, but he doesn't particularly like him. he's not important enough to gilbert, even if he still has nightmares of the day he first touched him, of the blood, the pain, the fact that he entered survival mode upon waking up ...
yeah, no. he doesn't like bonnard, he hopes to never see him again.
rosemarine is a complicated subject, i have yet to reach the paris volume so i'm not sure if his relationship with gilbert improved in some way (i think it sort of did? he was the one who helped him and serge leave, right?) but i know for a fact that he resents him for not doing anything to protect him when he was at laconblade.
sure, auguste had threatened him (gilbert doesn't know that, though, in gilbert's eyes rose didn't do anything because he simply didn't feel like it), but rose didn't do anything about it for around 5-6 years. that makes him an accomplice.
rosemarine allowed that to happen and engaged in the abuse (physical abuse, at least) probably more than once, so ... yeah, he doesn't hate rosemarine, but he doesn't know how he can sleep at night knowing that.
sorry if i was unclear in any points! let me know if that's the case, pretty please . . . i probably spaced out at some point 🌀
12 notes · View notes