Hi all,
30M , 220lbs
I was recently diagnosed with PTSD from an incident that occurred back in January to which resulted blunt force trauma to the back of my head. After the event, I was obviously shaken but tried to continue my normal life which was fine up until my birthday mid-February where things just hit me.
I started feeling the PTSD symptoms kick in - hyper vigilance, hyper arousal, inability to focus or concentrate (they say this coincides with dissociation) or retain a sharp short term memory, brain fog, random increased blood pressure spikes, and a higher resting heart rate (85-100) when sitting. Now, I'm dealing with lingering abdominal pain on my left side mainly after eating and stools that match to a fat malabsorption problem.
While I am trying to rework my diet to reintroduce fruits, vegetables, lower fat, no sugar, etc. I believe I am needing to get a good multivitamin and high fiber in my system. I've attached screenshots of what I'm looking to start implementing.
Thoughts?

I work for a ‘special collections’ agency and I don’t think our customers are human.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
I wasn’t exactly thrilled when, on the first night P’uy̓ám stayed with me, the moment we sat on the sofa he turned to me and asked, “Can we talk?”
I was tempted to sprint out the front door (like any perfectly reasonable and emotionally stable person would), but I’m proud to say that I managed to fight that instinct. The talk ended up basically being ‘did I mind that he wasn’t human’. I told him no, he’s the smartest, nicest person I know, and I think he’s amazing. I asked him if he minded that I am human, and he told me he didn’t care about that. He said I make him laugh, and spending time with me makes him happy and want to be the best version of himself. He did also say that I’m beautiful and a lot smarter than I claim I am, but I chalk up those last two to him being super nice, because if asked to describe myself, the two words I’d probably use would be, ‘loud’ and ‘confused’.
We just stared at each other awkwardly for a moment after that, neither of us seemed entirely sure what to do – it was the first time we’d actually been alone together since ‘the kiss’.
Just when we’d figured it out (and no, internet stranger, I’m not going to be sharing any more specific details, thanks), a knock on the door and the sound of Sandy’s voice outside interrupted us.
“Oh hey hon. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.” She smiled once I jumped up to open it.
Her eyes drifted to P’uy̓ám who waved awkwardly from the couch, glasses askew.
“Well alrighty then, I guess I’ll be going.” She just stood there, looking a bit lost.
I realized that was the first night she’d come home to any empty house after having company for a month straight – I guess even unspeakable horrors get lonely too.
“Sandy, do you want to come in and watch a movie with us?” I offered after a moment.
“Oh, you betcha!” she brightened and then proceeded to choose the seat between us. I swear she’s got psychic chaperone powers or something.
I suggested that maybe the three of us could do a game night every month, since we figured it’d be nice to catch up outside of just when we were trying to prevent the world was ending. I must say though, I thought Sandy was intense as a supervisor but she is a thousand times more frightening as a poker player – and we don’t even play for money.
I joked that we needed to take her to a casino, but she very seriously replied, “Oh I’m banned from every one in the state.”
I moved apartments after a month had passed without hearing from Yyohn. I’d been waiting to be absolutely sure, because I didn’t want to saddle a new renter with the whole, ‘you might be pulled into a nightmare world and sacrificed to an interdimensional entity’ thing – that would’ve been really inconsiderate.
I was so appreciative that P’uy̓ám stayed with me for a while. I may write with bravado when describing things in retrospect, but the very real possibility of being dragged through a reflective surface silently in the night never to be seen again, did freak me out.
It was also nice to finally spend some time together where we weren’t worrying about the imminent demise of either myself or our plane of existence (well no more than we usually have to worry, at least).
We decided not to tell anyone at the office that we're dating, it's easier that way. Well, I mean, Sandy knows since she did witness our first kiss whilst they were burying me alive.
As the time approached for our trip, I just really hoped that after not seeing P’uy̓ám for decades, maybe his family would welcome him back this time, forgive him for the minor transgression of ‘leaving home’ (yes, I’m still salty that they pretty much disowned him for that.) I figured if he didn’t, maybe he could get some closure, he could at least see the places where he grew up – homesickness had very clearly been really eating at him ever since we went into the woods for team building.
When we were planning our trip, he told me he’s never liked planes and was hoping to avoid flying. Considering ‘traveling on business’ in our line of work isn’t exactly defined as moving across physical space, it made some sort of sense.
He said it was something about not having solid ground under his feet, but when we mapped it out, it was over 5,000 miles round trip – so we could either spend 40 hours in a car, or 6 hours on a plane, each way.
He decided to give flying a shot.
People sometimes struggle to pronounce my first and last names off my driver’s license or credit cards, but they’ll at least try. As we were checking in the lady at the desk ended with, “Thank you Mr….” and then after staring at his driver’s license in silence for a few moments just gave up and handed it back to him.
I get it though, I mean, if I hadn’t heard him pronounce his last name, I would’ve never guessed it on my own – I’d just never encountered a ‘7’ in a name before I met him.
The security guy at the airport spent a long time studying P’uy̓ám’s passport. He stared at P’uy̓ám, then the passport with narrowed eyes. Back to him, then the passport, several times before eventually shrugging and handing it back over. I peeked at it before he put it away and noticed it said he was born in 1960 – and he may be 233, but he looks like he’s in his early thirties at most, so that explained the look of disbelief written on the agent’s face.
When I asked him about it, he said it’s a lot of work to fake all the documents needed to make the date match his outward appearance.
“It was a lot easier before there were electronic records.” He smiled.
I warned him that he should probably update that soon – bureaucratic apathy would only get him so far.
As we waited in the security line, his eyes widened when he saw people go through the body scanner, and he asked me what it was. When I told him, he turned pale and said he couldn’t go through it.
That left me with some questions.
“P’uy̓ám, when was the last time you flew?”
He had to think about that for a moment. “1986?”
“Yeahhhh… I’m pretty sure you can ask not to, but they’ll probably pat you down if you skip it.”
He grew even paler at that.
“Do you want the scan, or the hands?”
He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head, indicating that he wanted neither, which unfortunately for him was not an option.
I squeezed his hand, which helped calm him down – only letting go when it was time to show our IDs, and even then, only after the TSA officer glared at us
It’s a good thing we got there early, because when they asked if he’d emptied his pockets, he said no.
So, I watched him remove:

• His wallet
• His phone
• A multi tool
• A small plastic baggie of dirt
• A (rather large) Swiss army knife with the Canadian flag on it ("It was a gift" he informed me)
• One 16g stick of RAM

We both got out of line so he could check his bag and keep his tools – and I didn’t want him to have to go through it again by himself.
I hated seeing that look of misery on his face – I tried to maintain comforting eye contact with him as they patted him down.
They did let him keep the dirt with him, after scanning it since it’s apparently not prohibited, (just weird). He proceeded to stick it in one of his beat-up Converse before putting his shoes back on.
I understood the dirt – since he mentioned something about solid ground, I guessed it was as close as he was going to get on a plane – and even the multitool and knife.
But, when I asked him why he was trying to bring 16g of RAM into rural Canada in his pockets he just smiled, “You never know when you might need it.”
As soon as we boarded, I realized flying had been a terrible idea. He had a hard time fitting his legs in since he’s so tall – his knees were just jammed in there the whole time. Before we took off, some guy elbowed him in the face while trying to load a bag into the bin and P’uy̓ám said ‘I’m sorry’ to him. I glared at the guy until he apologized.
Everything freaked him out and he gripped the arm rests for dear life the entire flight. The sound of the wheels, staring out at the wings and the little flaps every time they moved (“Are those supposed to be doing that?” to which I could only unhelpfully shrug), the turbulence. I was just glad they let him keep the dirt.
He looked so absolutely horrified during the entire flight and I felt so bad for him. Before we even landed, I asked him if he wanted to drive on the way back instead of flying and he instantly said yes, relief written across his face.
We had to rent a car to get to his hometown, and it took us an extra two hours to get there because there were so many places he wanted to stop and show me, like this amazing waterfall off highway 99. I could’ve done without the constant feel of eyes on us despite us being alone, but it was definitely beautiful, at least.
We began to see signs for this little touristy shop. As we kept driving, the billboards seemed to multiply, until they were at almost every mile. At my insistence, we stopped.
I regretted that decision as soon as we walked in – the place was devoid of life, there were no other customers, no employees – and something about how the dim, blueish lights cast shadows across the shelves gave me a searing headache.
Not to mention the items on the shelves themselves – a mildewy hoodie, that had ‘Someone who loves me visited Oklahoma and bought me this sweatshirt!’ written in fading letters.
It seemed more like a second hand shop than a tourist trap.
I’d found a beaded purse, but it had a wallet and driver's license still in it.
As we wandered, a case of jewelry across the store caught my eye and drew me towards it – it was insane how beautiful each piece was – all so captivating, and each one was totally unique. They looked almost like blown glass – swirling golds and blues in one, sharp magentas with specs of green in another.
As I was leaning in closely, studying them – it almost looked as if they were moving a bit in their case – someone whispered directly into my ear from over my shoulder, “Thanks for stopping in”
The guy appeared out of nowhere to lean in over my shoulder, causing me to scream (just a reasonable amount).
Creeper dude walked around to position himself behind the counter, asked if I wanted to see anything, before pausing to study my face for a moment. His eyes drifted down to the pendant that P’uy̓ám made me, the one for ‘I’m totally not a human, please don’t eat me’ purposes.
“Oh, this is beautiful”, he whispered, before deciding to violate my personal space by lifting it up and holding it.
His demeanor instantly changed from a handsy salesperson to something else entirely – his grin widened and he looked a little too excited.
“Have you signed our guest book?” He gripped my left wrist tightly, shoved a pen into my right, and studied me in a way that told me he wouldn’t let go until I signed it.
“Can I switch hands please?”
He had the audacity to look at me as if I had mildly inconvenienced him, but did let me switch after I told him that was the only way he’d get actual, readable, words.
I flipped through the thick, yellowing pages to find a blank one and signed it ‘Mikayla G. and P’uy̓ám K.’
“Last names too.”
I sighed and wrote ‘Mikayla Garabedian and P’uy̓ám K--’ (I just wrote random letters after the K because I didn’t like how pushy he was being. )
“Exquisite, aren’t they?” he asked me with a smile, gesturing down at the jewelry. The small piece streaked with yellow and pinks was definitely shuddering in response to him pointing at it.
I nodded, but more out of politeness at that point, because he still had my wrist in a death grip.
“Mikayla, Wait.” I could hear P’uy̓ám call out in the distance, but I felt frozen there – it sounded like he was miles away
“Would you like to see how they’re made?”
Before I could answer, he leaned in and put a stone that resembled the others in shape and size, the only difference is that it was just plain, totally clear – into my hand, which he closed around it. It was like glass, but weightier, and where it touched my skin it burned slightly.
I could hear P’uy̓ám calling my name as he came sprinting over, right as the guy read my name off the guestbook.
P’uy̓ám gasped, but I didn’t understand why he was so freaked out.
Literally nothing happened.
P’uy̓ám helped me free my wrist from creepy guy’s crazy strong grip and sassily smacked the book out of his hands, before he could read it again.
And still, nothing happened.
The guy looked at us with narrowed eyes – a look P’uy̓ám returned, with even more intensity. The guy hissed at us as P’uy̓ám guided me out of the store.
Once we got to the parking lot, P’uy̓ám pulled me close to him and put his chin on the top of my head while quietly muttered that he wasn’t sure how I was unaffected – calling someone their true name is how all those other pendants got filled.
He hadn’t realized at first, but when he saw another collection of ‘items made from tourists’ (I made him repeat that to ensure I’d heard that correctly but he didn’t expound on what the ‘items’ were and I was a bit afraid to ask) in the back, he knew.
That was when P’uy̓ám ran over to me, but the guy already begun to read my name, so he was worried it was too late.
He was relieved when I saw that I didn’t provide either of our actual full names – I’ve learned that sharing your entire, true name isn’t a great idea, not with non-humans, probably not with the internet in general.
Mikayla is what I go by, but it’s my middle name – I mean, my sister’s name is ‘Hasmig’, so yeah, I have a fairly traditional first name, too. And no, I’m not sharing it here.
Look, I’m not saying that you’re going to come track me down and try to bind my soul to an inanimate object to then sell to tourists. But, after that ordeal, I’d rather not take that risk.
When I turned back around, the entire store was just … gone.
Apparently since I’m subletting a part of my soul (or as I like to say, ‘mildly possessed’), P’uy̓ám says mine was probably even more fascinating to the guy.
Due to our detours, it was getting dark by the time we reached P’uy̓ám’s family home.
Even in the low light, I could see the apprehension clearly written across his face. I wondered if he thought I was kidding about pummeling his family with my thousand page book if they were shitty to him. (Because I wasn’t)
The entire time, I’d thought that the worst thing that could happen would be that they rejected him – as we pulled up to the dark house, I realized how very wrong I was. _
If you want me to let you know when the next part is posted, just comment that you want me to update you, and I'll tag your user name when I post the next part :)

First / Previous / Royal Road / Patreon (Read 12 Chapters Ahead)

Silently, Pale motioned for Kayla to follow her, and the two of them silently crept out of the cave. As they drew closer to the exit, Pale was finally able to make out the voices from earlier.
"-Sure they're here? The tracks faded a while back…"
"Where in the three hells else would they go? This is the only shelter around for miles. The snow may have covered their tracks, but they don't know this land like we do."
The talking soon devolved into bickering as the bandits fought among themselves. Pale shifted, pressing her weapon's stock against her shoulder, then began to carefully push out from inside the cave, Kayla following a few steps behind her. The snowfall had intensified even further from when they had sought refuge in the cave; between the falling specks of white and the steadily-encroaching dusk, visibility had dropped to near-zero. Despite this, Pale kept moving, seeking cover higher up in the mountains.
The two of them moved over the rocks as carefully as they could, taking care not to disturb any of them for fear of alerting the bandits. Pale couldn't tell how many there were; from the different voices in their group, she counted at least four, maybe five. Ballistic weapons or not, she didn't like the odds of taking on five people in open combat with just herself and Kayla to oppose them.
And so, they continued to climb the mountain. Pale shivered the entire time, the frigid air cutting her to the bone even through her thermals. The temperature had fallen in the hours since they'd set up in the cave, and now even her high-tech clothing wouldn't be enough to save them forever.
Eventually, however, they reached a flat point in the side of the mountain where they could rest. Pale helped Kayla up the edge, and the two of them laid there, panting from exertion. Despite the cold, Pale wiped sweat from her brow, hefting her weapon to her shoulder once more as she peered over the sheer expanse. Through the snow and the darkness, she was just able to make out a few faint shapes milling about.
"Is it safe down there?" Kayla whispered through chattering teeth.
Pale shook her head. "Doesn't seem like it. Hopefully, they won't find the cave – if they do, they're going to keep looking for us. Our only hope is that they'll get cold and call off the search before then."
"Unlikely…" Kayla muttered. "Berserkers like that come from the far north. They're used to cold like this, if not worse. If anything makes them leave, it won't be the weather."
Pale couldn't help but scowl. She looked over the cliff face once more, then shook her head.
"Then I guess we have a choice to make."
"Which is…?"
"We sit here and hope that they don't find anything and leave before we freeze to death, or we throw caution to the wind and take the fight directly to them in order to reclaim our impromptu shelter."
Kayla paled at that. "...I don't like either option."
"Neither do I. The weather is a problem no matter which one we take – either it kills us outright or it affects us to the point where our combat effectiveness starts to drop like a stone. In any case, we're going to need to make a decision fast."
"You're the soldier. What do you think we should do?"
Pale was about to respond, but was cut off by a sudden flurry of excited shouts and movement from down below. She cast another glance down at the cave, and listened in to what the bandits were saying as best as she could. Most of their speech was drowned out by distance and wind, but it soon became irrelevant, as one of the bandits held up the remnants of two military rations, then pointed up towards the mountain. As Pale watched, the rest of the bandits – all five of them – began to climb up towards them. Her expression narrowed as she watched the berserkers steadily claw their way up the rocks, steadily inching closer with every passing moment.
"Looks like they made my decision for me," she announced, hefting her weapon.
"Ah…! What are we doing?!" Kayla asked in a hushed voice.
Pale leaned over the side of the cliff, centering her shotgun's sights on the head of the nearest bandit. He was about thirty meters away; at this distance, she couldn't miss.
"Pick a target," she said without looking back. "Wait for my command before conjuring anything."
Kayla let out a small whimper at what she was about to do, but didn't offer any argument, instead stacking up alongside Pale. She took a breath to calm herself, then raised a hand, but held back on conjuring any magic, instead merely keeping it outstretched. Pale watched as the bandit she'd aimed at drew closer, until finally, it happened – he locked eyes with her, and his expression tightened into one of surprise. He opened his mouth to yell something to his comrades.
A shell full of buckshot silenced him before he got the chance. In that moment, Kayla opened up with a spell, sending a streak of lightning arcing across the mountain and into the chest of the nearest berserker. The man convulsed as electricity danced across his body, but then limply fell backwards, his body blackened and smoking.
For a split-second, there was silence, punctuated only by the sound of Pale racking her shotgun. She went to take aim at the next target, but a large bolt of lightning came soaring towards her from farther down the mountain. A small, surprised gasp escaped from her as she fell back, the lightning missing her by mere millimeters, passing close by enough that it made the hair on her head stand up. The spell discharged into the rock above, sending bits of stone and dirt raining down on the two of them and littering them with small cuts and bruises, but otherwise leaving them unhurt.
"Kayla, you take that side!" Pale shouted as she approached the edge of the stone. "Keep yourself safe!"
"W-what?!" Kayla called back. "What are you doing?!"
"Getting you some breathing room!" Pale said to her as she swung herself over the edge, then began to roll down the side of the snow-covered mountain. Bits of jagged rock tore at her body as she fell, but she paid it no mind. Back behind her, she heard claps of thunder echo through the mountains, a sign that Kayla was still fighting.
That wouldn't matter if Pale didn't take care of the berserker mage, however.
As that thought passed her mind, another bolt of electricity came arcing from their cave, up towards Kayla. Pale came to a stop not far away, then jumped to her feet with her weapon at the ready, a pang of pure rage barely suppressed in her mind as she surged forwards.
There were no other berserkers on this part of the mountain, at least that she could see, which had to mean that the mage was alone. Pale sprinted for the cave, double-timing it in order to get there before something could happen to Kayla. More lightning flew through the night, marking the mage's spot, and before long, she closed in on him.
Just as she got there, however, a wall of fire erupted between herself and him. She stumbled, barely managing to catch herself before running directly into the flames. Through the smoke and crimson blaze, she was able to make out a man dressed in a combination of berserker furs and a tattered gray cloak, grinning a yellowed-toothed grin at her through a shaggy salt-and-pepper beard. He went to say something, but Pale stopped him with a barrage of shotgun pellets slam-fired from her weapon as fast as she could operate the pump. To her dismay, however, a barrier of some kind sprang up between the two of them, shielding the mage from any harm.
Her shotgun clicked empty, and Pale let it dangle from her sling, instead pulling out her .45. She went to take aim at the mage, but was unprepared for him to suddenly surge forwards, a manic shout escaping him as he passed through his own flames, completely uncaring of how they lapped at him as he sprinted by. Her eyes widened in shock as she was forced backwards, her pistol barking as fast as she could pull the trigger, but to no avail – that same barrier from earlier prevented any of her shots from landing, the bullets harmlessly bouncing off onto the ground below for every round fired.
Finally, the slide locked back on her handgun, and Pale was forced to try and reload. The mage kept coming, however, even as she scrambled backwards over snow and rocks. Eventually, though, she made a mistake, tripping over a large rock and falling backwards, her handgun slipping from her grip and sliding several yards away. She made a vain attempt to fumble for it, but the mage got their first. With strength unexpected from a man his age, he wrapped one hand around her throat and hoisted her into the air, holding her face-to-face with him. Pale gasped for breath, her legs flailing uselessly as the life was choked out of her. The berserker's manic grin widened, and he tightened his one-handed grip, then brought his off-hand around, sparks already dancing across his fingertips.
Out of desperation, Pale yanked the combat knife from her belt and flailed wildly with it, hoping only to free herself. Her desperate plan worked; the man let out a loud, pained shout as a deep gash was opened in his arm, and his grip loosened just enough for Pale to shake herself free. She landed in a heap on the ground, then jumped to her feet just in time for the mage to shake off his wound. She had cut a deep gouge in the side of his arm, deep enough to expose the white of his bone to the elements, but from the sight of things, all that had really done was anger him even more. In that moment, she realized something.
That barrier, whatever it was, must have been designed to withstand projectile attacks from a distance rather than a direct close-range strike.
She didn't get much time to focus on this new discovery, however – he glared at her, gritting his teeth as the blood dripped from his arm onto the snow below; Pale, for her part, held his gaze, and dropped into a combat stance as she switched her hold on the blade to a reverse grip. The two of them began to circle each other, each waiting for the other combatant to move, both of them eyeing their opponent up and down the entire time.
Pale saw the signs of an incoming attack before it even arrived – the subtle tensing of his leg muscles gave it away before he even knew what he was doing. When he surged forwards, his hands engulfed in fire, she was ready; she sidestepped the incoming attack, then lashed out with her blade once more, scoring another deep slash through the man's arm, this time in the underside. He let out a grunt as he reeled back from the hit, his arm now dangling uselessly in front of him. Idly, Pale realized she must have just severed its tendon, preventing him from using it any further.
She didn't get a chance to dwell on this fact for long, as the mage raised his other arm and launched a bolt of lightning at her, forcing her to jump behind a nearby rock to avoid being electrocuted. She didn't stay there for long, though – he launched several more consecutive bolts of lightning towards her impromptu cover, trying to flush her out as he closed in on one side. Pale didn't take the bait, though – she rushed the side he was pushing just in time to shove the blade forwards, and for her efforts, she was rewarded with a dull thunk as steel met flush. The mage immediately froze, looking down at the knife as it jutted out of his stomach, blood blossoming out from around it and steadily staining his clothes a deep crimson. He gave a shuddering gasp, then fell to his knees, Pale merely yanked the knife out from his gut, and was about to slam the blade into his carotid artery to finish him off when someone grabbed her from behind, stopping her. Pale's heart skipped a beat, and she very nearly rounded on whoever it was before Kayla's voice met her ears.
"Don't. There's been enough death for now."
Pale paused, then chanced a look back. Kayla was standing there, her eyes wide and dull as she shivered, her outfit covered in dirt and blood, none of it her own. She pulled her hand off Pale's, bringing it around to huddle herself. Pale stared at her for a moment, then looked back up at the cliff's edge where she'd been left.
Several bodies, charred beyond the point of recognition and still smoking, marked a trail up to Kayla's side.
Reluctantly, Pale pursed her lips, then nodded, sheathing her knife. "...Fine. But if we're keeping him alive, then I'm going to find out what he knows before we turn him loose. I think it's time we got some answers from someone."
Kayla's only response was to wordlessly nod.

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, Ickbard for the help with writing this story.

^{you always were special
always special to me
all of you
every
last
one
of
you}
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
Sacajawea leaned back, staring at the hologram in the middle of the table.
"I fled the Glassing. I asked Luke to rebirth my people, help me get the colony ships working, then ran for it," she said. "Twelve ships lifted off, escorted by light attack and defense craft," she closed her eyes. "Only four made it. The Mantid boarded two of the ships," she swallowed thickly. "I could hear them scream as the Mantid killed them."
Legion squeezed her hand gently.
N'Skrek could see the pain in her features.
For her, it may be thousands of years ago, but it still brings pain, he thought to himself. For me, for all of us at this table, this is an event tens of thousands of years ago. Barely remembered history.
"We stayed in jumpspace for months, years, pushing at the upper bands," she shook her head. "We eventually hit the point where the ships were pushed back down by the pressure."
N'Skrek nodded. The upper jumpspace bands required specialized engines and jumpcores.
"We used cryogenics to make the trips," she said. "We would exit jumpspace, refuel at a far orbit gas giant that was not frozen, then jump again," she shook her head. "All I could think of was to run as far and as fast as I could, and bring my people with me."
She began drawing lines.
"Hundreds of years passed while we slept, a dreamless sleep," Sacajawea said. "We ran until the ships could run no more. Two of them failed exiting jumpspace, but we were lucky. By that time I understood that each jump could be our last, so I ensured that we headed toward stellar systems that had a high probability of a planet we could survive on."
She shook her head.
"I never entered cryo-sleep. I stayed awake, guiding our path," she inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. "I could feel our path. I knew which way to go."
Luke held up one finger, getting everyone's attention.
"The Digital Omnimessiah, he changed us with his touch. Each of us with our own part to play to save humanity," he said. He glanced at Sacajawea. "She can see, feel probabilities and adjust to a shifting situation with nearly precognizant accuracy."
Sacajawea rolled her eyes and sniffed, pursing her lips. "You make it sound so pedestrian."
Luke just smiled.
"For hundreds of years I stood on the bridge of a damaged colony ship, my pointing finger our only guide," she said.
N'Skrek noted that her voice had fallen into a sing-song cadence.
"Finally I saw the six suns, arranged in the shape of an eagle," she said. "I knew, at that moment, that this would be as far as we could go. Our ships were failing, but they could make this last leg of our journey. I chose the best one for my people. It was nearly paradise, just needing a little bit of tweaking. No life higher than plant life and simple insects, perfect to live away from hatred, war, and slaughter."
She looked down.
"I led them to their doom," she said softly. "We had to rely on high technology at first. Terraformers, the gene banks that Luke had acquired, orbital lift capacity."
She shook her head. "Little did we know that the technology would attract what you call the Mar-gite."
N'Skrek shook his head. "No. You were just in the way," he said.
She looked startled.
"If the planet had carbon based life or an oxygen heavy atmosphere, they would have devoured it," N'Skrek said. He shrugged. "It's what they do. Before recently, we thought they were some kind of locust that just denuded planets and moved on."
"Now we know that they're a weapon, being driven in front of another species," Admiral Breakheader said.
She blinked several times, then turned to Luke.
"True story," Luke shrugged.
Sacajawea was silent for a long moment, then she shivered and touched the hologram again.
"I guided my people along the True Path, the one that promised the most happiness and most reward," she said. She glanced at Luke. "Those who wished to embrace more technology had their own spaces, although I did not dwell with them."
She looked down at where Luke was still holding her hand.
"For thousands of years, six thousand of our years," she said. "Then the Outsiders came."
"How long Confederate Standard?" Admiral Breakheader asked, rubbing his chin.
N'Skrek could hear the rustle of bristles from the Vice-Admiral's five-o-clock shadow.
Sacajawea closed her eyes. "Almost six thousand to the day."
Breakheader nodded, making a note.
"At first, they just appeared in out of the way locations. Someone would see them and they'd flee, move away, and eventually they started to show up more and more near the technological enclaves," Sacajawea shook her head. "It was the technology that they were attracted to."
N'Skrek just nodded.
"Then came the attacks. Our superluminal communication links went first, but not before we learned that we were being attacked on all six worlds simultaneously. We held them off for years, protecting ourselves. No matter what path I looked at, I could see no path that had a statistically viable path to victory, I could only minimize their victories," she closed her eyes. "They began capturing my people, abducting whole villages."
"Then came the Devouring Ones," she said. "Two years later, and we were gone."
Breakheader nodded.
"Initial scouting, followed by an assault, then research, then finished with an extermination attack," he said. He looked up. "Standard xenocide tactics."
Sacajawea looked way.
"He's right," Luke said. She looked at him, surprised. "You put up too stiff of a fight so they brought in their heavy hitters after getting a good look at how we worked."
There was silence for a moment, then Commander Hentrill looked up from her datapad. "How did you die?" she asked.
"What difference does it make?" Sacajawea asked.
Hentrill looked unfazed by the glare that Sacajawea aimed down her nose at her. "It makes a lot of difference, Ma'am," she said cooly.
N'Skrek could feel that Hentrill had developed a dislike for the Immortal over the course of the conversation.
"When they came for me, when I was the last, I stepped from the cliff and fell to the rocks below, where the waves washed against the shore. By the time they reached me, I had died from my injuries," Sacajawea said. "I sang as I fell so that..."
"Suicide. They gathered your lifeless corpse," Hentrill said. She narrowed her eyes. "You have a standard datalink for the Glassing Era. Did you have one when you fell?"
Sacajawea nodded. "It was on piece of technology that I felt was necessary to embrace," she said.
"So, you killed yourself and the enemy obtained your datalink and your brain," Hentrill said. "What about your leaders? You did have military leaders, yes?"
Sacajawea glanced at Luke, who nodded. "Yes. I convinced Luke to bring back great leaders of my people and I nurtured their spirits as I raised them during the trip."
"Did they have datalinks?" Hentrill asked.
Sacajawea nodded. "Yes. I had been told, repeatedly, that effective communication was vital to winning a war."
"Daxin," Luke interjected.
Sacajawea sniffed. "Yes."
Hentrill made a note. "Were your leaders targeted early in the conflict?" she asked.
"Of course," Sacajawea said. "Many were killed, but the technology we had allowed them to return within days, only missing a few days of their previous life. Luke had convinced Peter to ensure we had a version of the SUDS, which we only used for critically important people."
N'Skrek saw a muscle twitch next to Luke's eye, but he stayed smiling.
"But it was destroyed before the Devourers came," Sacajawea said. "It could not be helped. There was almost no path I could take that would prevent it from being destroyed, so I chose the path that would result in the least casualties for my people."
N'Skrek was not that familiar with Terrans, but he could tell that Commander Hentrill was rubbed the wrong way by that statement.
"I think we should take a break," N'Skrek said. He nodded toward Luke. "I am sure both of you are fatigued from being brought back from the dead."
"Yes," Sacajawea said before Luke could do much more than open his mouth. "I would prefer to have privacy to rest and perform necessary rites."
N'Skrek just nodded. "I'll be sure you get privacy."
0-0-0-0-0
Legion stood next to the tank, one hand on the heavily armored skirt, staring at the black metal the tank was made from.
"Warsteel Mark-IV," he whispered to himself. He shook his head. "We are old friends, you and I," he said softly, running one hand across the metal. "Later superseded by arcanochromium for the Mark-V."
He didn't care if anyone heard him talking to the tank. There was just a single Telkan in the vehicle bay, running diagnostic checks on one of the big Telkan armored transports used for power armor troops.
^{your name is luke}
He shook his head, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He kept hearing slight buzzing whispers.
He felt her before he could see her. Felt her leave the lift, the warsteel doors pulling open and letting her presence roll out to fill the vehicle bay.
He heard her shoes clicking and closed his eyes, sighing.
It's not her. Not the one you knew. It's Tiffany, not Sacajawea, he thought to himself.
^{your name is luke}
He looked up just in time to see a green mantid wave shyly at him.
He smiled at it and waved back just as Sacajawea stopped next to him.
"A green mantid?" she said, her voice slightly fearful.
"Engineer caste," Luke said. "They like me."
"They are Mantid," Sacajawea said, her voice cold and hard.
"The war was thousands of years ago, and even if it wasn't, he is blameless in it," Luke said.
"But it is a Mantid," Sacajawea said. She watched coldly as the little green mantid waved and rushed away.
"I have more in common with him than I do with the majority of humanity," Luke said softly.
Sacajawea scoffed. "Surely not."
Luke nodded. "His kind was trapped inside their own minds. Capable of thought, artistic expression, fear, love, affection, all of it," he ran one finger along the armored track skirt of the tank, a fat purple spark jumping from between his finger and the black armor. "The whole war, until the Mechakrautlanders killed that Overqueen, they were inside their own little heads, screaming endlessly."
He ran his finger again, watching another spark jump out.
"When green mantids cluster up, their intelligence increases. Not by leaps and bounds, just slightly, but the bigger part is, they could feel the ones around them screaming but were unable to reach out and touch them," he said. He was silent a moment. "I understand them, they understand me. Both of us, bred and created to merely serve, without any thought as to our souls."
He turned arounds, looking at Sacajawea.
"They are among the Digital Omnimessiah's most fervent believers, and one of humanity's staunchest allies," he said. He motioned at the tanks around them. "You have been gone a long time, little sister."
"And you, did you live through the forty-thousand years? What did you do?" Sacajawea asked.
Luke shook his head. "I retreated. After the War in Heaven and in Hell, after the Flashbang, I retreated," he said. "I spent most of my time at Atlantis, which led to me being more or less imprisoned, away from the galaxy."
He flashed a smile.
"At least I had the Detainee for company. She's an interesting conversationalist."
Sacajawea just sniffed, looking around. "What is that?" she asked, pointing at the lone Telkan, who had just straightened up from the tracks and was wiping his hands off with a rag.
"A Telkan. An full member species of the Confederacy, an ally to humanity, who took part in the War in Heaven," Luke said. He waved at the Telkan, who waved back, and went back to inspecting the vehicle.
"It looks like a fox," Sacajawea said.
Luke cut her off with a motion of his hand. "I swear to God, you start talking to me about how they obviously embody the trickster spirit of the fox and thus are untrustworthy I'll put you right back where I found you," he said sharply.
Sacajawea pursed her lips in irritation.
"You have to let go. Let go of your preconceived notions. Let go of all the old hurts. It's been eight-thousand years for you and forty-thousand for the universe," Luke said softly, turning back to running his hand over the armor on the tank. "Even Daxin could see that."
Sacajawea snorted. "Like Daxin ever saw anything that wasn't in the sights of his guns."
Luke turned around, his jaw clenched. "You don't speak bad about him in my presence again," he snapped, drawing himself up to full height. "Not now, not ever again," he leaned forward slightly. "You weren't here. You left us, the Digital Omnimessiah was dead, and we were all bereft," sparks jumped out from under his boots and under the palm that rested on the tank's armor. "True, I spent over a thousand years running from him, but he was still my brother. It hurt more than anything not to be at his side when he died."
Sacajawea looked around at the tanks and armored vehicles. "He fell on some battlefield," she said. It was less a question and more a statement.
Luke shook his head. "No. He died, in his sleep, surrounded by his family. His children, grand-children, and great-grand children. He was finally at peace," he sighed. "When he arrived in Afterlife, he waited patiently for his wife and even though I wanted to spend time with him," he sighed again. "It was time to let the Walking War Crime rest."
Luke turned and faced Sacajawea. "In your mind, we are still the same as we were," he said gently. He reached out and took her hand in his. "But that is no longer true. We grew, we set aside old differences, we set aside old hatreds, and we moved forward rather than holding tight to the past."
She sniffed, looking away, but not pulling her hand away. "I have seen the history. A history of lies that glosses over the crimes and bloodshed."
"Temporal warfare counter-measures," Luke said. "After The Glassing, history and culture was lost. It was rebuilt from oral tales and fragmented records."
"Lies," she said again.
"Weaponized," Luke said. He pulled his hand free, jamming both hands into his pockets. "It's protected Terra, protected everyone, even your people, more than once. When the Atrekna came, that was probably the only thing that saved our people," he stared at her. "Saved humanity."
"So they don't care about the truth?" she asked.
"What truth? That thousands of years ago an aggressive Mantid hive wrecked up Earth? Nobody cares any more," he said. "That's the thing about them. They aren't like us. We can easily remember the Glassing. For them, it's a few paragraphs in a history book they read in school. Maybe some scholars look at that era," he looked up at the lights. "For the majority of humanity, the Glassing is as far and remote as the light of the stars in the sky," he looked back down. "And that's a good thing."
"I do not understand you," Sacajawea said.
^{she never did
not like i do
luke}
"You never did," Luke said. "You never did. She eventually understood me."
^{that's right
i understand you}
"You cloned me without my consent," she accused. She crossed her arms. "I await your justifications."
Luke just smiled. "I did. I cloned you without your consent. I told your clone that it was a clone," he looked up. "Then the Imperium caught us, turned us into the Immortals. Used her as a seer to determine how to reach victory, but she held information back and Daxin, at the head of the Martial Orders of Terra, broke the Imperium over his knee."
He looked back down. "Afterwards, she worked tirelessly on the Terra Restoration Project. While I was busy running, she returned to Terra, sought out the survivors of her people, and helped them restore their lands and way of life."
Sacajawea looked away. "As did I."
Luke chuckled. "She used temporal lensing to look back into the past, see the reality of the old ways, watch the rituals and daily life of the ancestors, and restored them."
"Yet, the history books are full of lies," Sacajawea sniffed.
"After the Second Temporal War, she understood and embraced the counter-warfare protocols. She helped interweave your people into the tales," Luke said. "Was it all lies? Partly. Like the best ones, it had good heaping helping of truth hidden inside the metaphors and personifications of events."
"And where is she now?" Sacajawea asked, watching the Telkan inspect the running gears of the armored vehicle.
"She led the Sky Nebula Alignment fleet. She led our peoples, all our peoples, to someplace where our enemies would not find us," Luke said. He turned and ran his hand over the armor again. "I stayed behind. I never lost faith that the Digital Omnimessiah would return."
He lifted his palm and made small figure eights on the armor with his fingertips.
"I loved her, so I let her go," he said softly. "She had seen it was the only way our people would survive a coming darkness."
He looked at Sacajawea. "She was right."
Sacajawea looked at where Luke was making small figure eights with his fingers on the armor. "There is no good path for me to take. All of them are risky, most of them I will perish," she said. She reached out and took his hand. "My best chances for survival is to flee," she lifted his hand and grasped it with both of hers.
"Come with me. Let us leave. You can take us elsewhere, where we have a chance of survival," she tilted her head to encompass the vehicle bay. "Too many of these paths lead to both our deaths. There are too few that lead to a place where we both survive."
Luke delicately removed his hand from hers, using one hand to lift her fingers from her grip on his hand one by one.
"No."
Sacajawea frowned. "No? Together, we can go somewhere else where we have a better chance to stand up to whatever comes and have a possibility of triumphing at a later date," she waved at the armored vehicles. "This way, the way that Treana'ad commander is taking us, is rife with nothing but death and destruction."
Luke stared at her for a long moment.
"You never understood," he said softly. "Your desire, your drive, to save your people, and yourself, blind you to the things that must be done," he put one hand on the tank again. "That sometimes the only path forward to success is the one fraught with the most danger, hardship, and suffering."
He turned away and started walking deeper into the vehicle bay.
"She understood," he said softly.
"I am not her," Sacajawea said.
"Obviously."
Sacajawea just sniffed and turned away, leaving the bay.
^{your name is luke}
By the tank, Jaskel wondered why the hell they'd chosen that particular bay for their little spat.
He looked at 8814, who was still practially hopping from foot to foot with happiness.
"I'm glad you got to meet him," Jaskel said honestly.
--yes ┏(＾0＾)┛┗(＾0＾) ┓ yes--
0-0-0-0-0
Dhruv sat in the shadowy room, wearing a pair of exercise shorts, waiting.
Finally, he could smell cigarette smoke and a presence filled the room.
"What?" a voice asked from the shadows. The end of a cigarette brightened as a drag was taken off of it, briefly illuminating gun-metal gray eyes and severe cheekbones.
"I want a favor," Dhruv said.
He could feel the smile even if he couldn't see it.
"People in my care want ice water," the woman's voice commanded.
"I want you to look up SUDS records for me. I need you to process some of them so I can either talk to them or see their last moments," Luke said. He looked away from the glow of the cigarette. "Records from a long time ago."
"If I decide to do this, I'll need specifics," the woman said, exhaling smoke that curled into the figure of a man on his knees, face in his hand, sobbing.
"I'll provide them. They should be easy to find via their x, y, z, q coordinates," Luke said.
"Now for the big question," the woman said, chuckling.
"What?" Luke asked.
"Why should I help you?" the woman asked.
"Because I'm willing to make a deal with the Devil," Legion said.
This time he could see the glint of teeth in the smile.
^{your name is legion}
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

Me: Wouldn't it be fun to wait to post this in the summer so you can say happy Christmas in July for once? Also me: that's a terrible joke. Just publish the thing.
Apologies for publishing in 2 parts. I'm not trying to drag it out I'm just aware this is the length of 2 episodes, reddit will only allow me 20 pics per post, and there's just too much going on for our beloved idiot in this one, so. I'm pacing myself.
It's not Christmas in July, it's Christmas 1919 at Downton and I spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering if Mr Fellowes really wants me to believe that the Crawleys decorated the Goliath of Christmas trees themselves (they didn't, but I like that Mary was sipping her tea and offering her view on things. Queen👑 ).
Plus, the setup for this episode intro had an actual checklist:
Tree? Check
Family arriving? Check
Violet judging this year's Christmas cards and looking for the contenders for worst cards of the year (they judge them on both content, and actual card)? Check
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Anna gets a gold heart brooch from Mary and Mrs Hughes is as excited about it as she is. Also, I can see the inspo for the entire Anna/Mary tag on AO3 right here. And Mrs Hughes ships it.
Just kidding, Bates is in prison, and we're all very sad.
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Carlisle is wondering why the Crawleys are being kind to their servants by letting them have some time off at lunchtime on Christmas Day, and I'm wondering if anyone (namely, us, the viewers) is supposed to be surprised by his behaviour.
I mean, blackmailing Lavinia just because? Blackmailing Mary into an engagement with him? Trying to manipulate Anna and Carson? Being physically abusive to Mary, and trying to control her life and behaviour? Bringing Lavinia back to "sacrifice" her to a lifetime as Matthew's nurse, so Mary won't spend that much time with Matthew (not because there was something off about that, just that Carlisle didn't want her to)?
He is an asshole. He was an asshole. He will always be an asshole. Glad we're finally all on the same page.
​
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Matthew and Mary are exchanging presents behind Robert's head in one scene and I'm very upset by it. Please, if anyone has any ideas, submit what you think they got each other for Christmas.
If you need any inspiration, here's what people would buy each other as presents in the 1920s according to the British Newspaper Archives:
Lots of cigarette paraphernalia Cocktails Banjos PENCILS Dance Frocks Shaving Kits Vacuum Cleaners
Keep that list in mind if you're disappointed with your presents next year.
​
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Matthew got a telephone call telling him that Mr Swire is very ill, and he will got to London to visit him. Mary gives him some condolences and he says "I'm sorry if I'm casting a gloom". I have a feeling the poor man had been pretty depressed for quite long, probably perked up a bit for Christmas and thought he was bringing the mood down again, but Mary responds with compassion. Oh Matthew.
Carlisle saw Mary go after Matthew in the hall, to ask about Mr Swire, and literally took his newspaper with him and followed her out there because that's completely normal behaviour. Just picture the ridiculousness of it: Mary and Matthew talking about Mr Swire and Bates' trial, romantic themes that they are, and Carlisle is so annoyed by it he's standing there in the background. Reading a newspaper, just to make sure they know he's still around (who could forget, mate).
Also, Mary saying she'll attend Bates' trial to support Anna, and Matthew immediately going "Would you like me to go with you?". Because of course he wants to support Mary in all things.
And this is Matthew's first villainous act for the episode: He asks Carlisle "or will YOU do that?" as in, since you're here, will you be supporting Mary in this endeavour.
Of course he isn't. Carlisle could never understand the concept of being there as emotional support for a Servant. He can't even understand why one would give a servant a few hours off on Christmas Day.
And just like that, Matthew scores one point in showcasing that Carlisle is a waste of space.
Matthew's Villainy points so far: 1
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Btw, Matthew has a few sets of looks reserved for Carlisle: Derision, derision, and more derision.
​
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They're playing charades (aka The Game), Mary is mimicking falling down, Matthew has a front row seat to it, and they're not playing on the same team so she can't rely on him to guess. Which means he can sit back and have the time of his life.
Carlisle complains about not liking the game and I'm left to wonder why he wanted that life so much since he could find nothing to enjoy in it.
​
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Mary IS still trying with him, however. He complains again on New Years Eve about the servants having some time off, and she reasons that it only happens twice a year, and he complains again that she doesn't understand because she didn't have to work for what she has.
Fellowes finally does the work on these two. I was having a conversation with another user recently, who was wondering why Mary picked Carlisle when she could have picked someone like Evelyn Napier.
Let's forget the Pamuk Scandal for a moment. Mary clearly wanted something more other than a traditional marriage. When we meet her, she's 21. She already has a husband in her pocket, if all she wanted was a position in society and a title, she'd have already been married to Patrick in 1912. But clearly, she wanted more out of life than to be someone's wife.
She wanted love, and she wanted to have something to do, whatever that was. She would have found both in Matthew, if things hadn't gone to complete shit, so why not consider Carlisle (back when he seemed normal)?
He was a working, self-made man, so he was interesting to her. He wasn't the run-of-the-mill rich boy she'd been exposed to her entire life, and if she married him she'd have a job in establishing him in London society and helping him build his empire. She'd Work, in short. She'd be allowed to use her brain.
But they don't match. At all. He offered her a marriage of convenience, and then was upset that she loved someone else, when Carlisle never offered her love in the first place. She wanted to be able to go about her life, he wanted her under his thumb to do his bidding. She was raised to have a certain respect for other people (e.g. the servants in the house), he thought that because he had money he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
In short, they don't work together. Not even taking into account he was blackmailing her with a scandal, and Matthew was off stage left being Villainous (according to Carlisle. Villain, Perseus, it's all a matter of perspective.)
​
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I love how they contrast Carlisle's ruthlessness with Matthew's compassion (and look how she looks up to him). Because Matthew is also a working man, but he's kind. And even though he didn't have any connection to mr Swire anymore, he stood by him in his hour of need, to the bitter end.
Speaking of contrasting Carlisle's assholery to Matthew:
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Rosamund's WhatsHisFace of a suitor points out there's only three women following the shoot, and they should divide their time between the men taking part in said shoot (God forbid women are not around to entertain these assholes gents). Carlisle immediately rebuffs him before Mary can get a word in, saying "Lady Mary will stand by ME". Mary is about to, very politely, put him in his place, when Matthew comes in for his second act of Villainy so far, saying "I thought you said you'd stand by me for the first shoot, isn't that what you said?"
He doesn't push her to go with him, he's just giving her an exit plan. So that Mary doesn't have to bring herself in an awkward position in front of all those people, to defend her right to an opinion. And Mary takes it. Of course she does. She can show Carlisle he doesn't get to dictate what she does, and do so in a way that doesn't create gossip.
Matthew's Villainy points so far: 2
​
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Look how he looks at her. He's so happy she took him up on it. Whatever else happened beyond this, they were friends. He cared for her, and she cared for him. And he has her back here, and she accepted it, so easily. And that made him happy (and so, so smug. A true Villain).
https://preview.redd.it/1fzkc8n5dv0d1.jpg?width=560&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=96c18b3b6203ddaebccedf3173fa4d0bb7c87619
She loves how un-selfconscious he is. She's always loved it, all those years ago at the flower show when he'd mock himself for her benefit, to make her laugh. He does it here still but now she's not surprised by it, just endlessly fond. Dozens of men spent years showing off their (probably mediocre) skills, to win her favour, and of course she'd fall for the guy who was just being honest. Mary likes honesty, she never got much of it. Her world is a show of mirrors where nothing is what it seems, and it must have been so refreshing to be with someone who was exactly what he showed the world. It's only sad that it took her so long to realise that just as she loved him for who he was, he'd do the same. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"He does rather beg to be teased" - this asshole has been deliberately messing with Carlisle for ages, hasn't he. I've only counted 2 Villainy points, but I bet he earned himself dozens before. Whenever he'd get pissed off at something Carlisle said he'd just whisk Mary away, just to show him that he could, even if Carlisle was the fiance, Matthew was still an important person in her life, and he'd always be, and he made sure Carlisle knew that (and took great, great enjoyment in it).
Mary: The awful truth is, he’s starting to get on my nerves. Still, you’re not the person to burden with that.
Matthew: You’re still going to marry him, though.
Mary: Of course. Why wouldn’t I.
Matthew is not happy about this. He appears to not understand it, and I wish I could give him a a nice shake. Regardless of the information he doesn't have, Matthew, mate, it's not like she hasn't met other men. Like it or not, most of your lot back in the day belonged in the bin.
And Mary, as a high-society woman, didn't have a lot of options. She had to get married. And at least Carlisle wanted to buy Haxby, she'd be near her family, spend time in London. Before she'd have hoped to actually get some work done, within the capacity her marriage would allow her, but with things being as they are with Carlisle I think she's now hoping he'd be busy with his work and she could get on with her days and maybe not see much of him, as most couples of their class did. And that's not taking into account the actual reason why Mary thinks she absolutely Must marry Carlisle.
https://preview.redd.it/5u0162z7dv0d1.jpg?width=560&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=792e7b9d4ab2bad74d90c90aea70b51766e0eb66
Also, Matthew, let's not pretend you'd like any man she brought home. So either take a deep breath and confess some things, or get on with it.
Carlisle asks Mary why she and Matthew were laughing together. He asks "Am I never to be free of him?" and her answer is, of course not. Because, of course not. First of all, sorry to say Richard, but, they're a package deal.
I can't see either one of them giving up the other willingly, not after all this. But of course, the main thing is the aristocracy thing. He's the head of the family, you'll see A Lot of Matthew, if you and Mary get married. And Matthew has spent almost every minute of the episode so far making sure Richard knows this. One would say, he's trying to push him out (like a villain), through his sheer presence in Mary's life.
"I might understand if you let me think for a solitary minute that you preferred my company to his."
Here's another problem: He should know, this wasn't part of their terms. Of course, he's not an aristocrat, so he's not aware of how loveless marriages of convenience work, but since it WAS a loveless marriage of convenience he was offering, I wonder why THE FUCK, he demands her attention now.
Mary would perform her duty to him. She'd be the best hostess London ever saw. She'd be the pretty wife on his arm, and she'd charm his contacts, and she'd be the stepping stone for him to be accepted in aristocratic circles, and she'd give him children and hold his house. And yes, she'd love spending time with her family, and that included Matthew.
Richard is just being a petty, controlling, fuck. Because he wants more than she's willing to offer, and he wants more than what he'd originally asked. So he, can shove it.
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Richard: I’ve done everything I can to please you.
Mary: Do you mean you bought a large and rather vulgar house?
Richard: You cannot talk to me like that! What have I done to deserve it? What?!
Would you like a list of your crimes, Richard? I've posted it a bit further above.
Also, Mary. She was hoping he'd offer her an interesting life (before he turned out to be an asshole). But all he's offered so far is the same old bullshit she's been offered all her life: A big empty (emotionless) house.
A demanding husband. A life full of constraints and limitations, set to her by a husband who expects to dictate everything she does.
It's at this point that Matthew, clearly the villain of the story, shows up because he hears Richard yelling at Mary and that just won't do.
My beloved idiot covers for Richard here. And she does it because of something she said to Matthew before "He's starting to get on my nerves, but you're not the person to burden with that."
She doesn't want Matthew to feel like he has to come to her rescue. She heard him, when he told her they can't be together (many times) in the previous episodes. And she loves him, so she's let him be. She knows he's got his own troubles, that he's been through a lot, and that shows with how she watches him walk away with a fair bit of worry in her eyes. Plus, she doesn't want him to do anything for her out of obligation. She just wants them to be friends, and friends don't solve your marital (or, in this case, pre-marital) problems. They can provide comedic relief, and support, but that's about it.
And as we said, Matthew is clearly the villain of this story.
Speaking of which, Matthew interrupted Richard's yelling at Mary so, I guess that means - Matthew's Villainy points so far: 3
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Speaking of friends: Matthew will be there, for Mary (and Anna) at Bates' trial, and Mary asks to be there when he brings back Mr Swire's ashes, since the man wanted to be buried next to his daughter (who had to be buried at Downton, and not near her home in London, for maximum guilt-trip points I guess).
I love how those two care, and support each other in difficult times. It IS what friends do. Of course, Carlisle is not happy about that either. And listen, if he was in love with Mary, I'd be very understanding. I'd be telling him to cut his losses and run. I'd be empathising. But I'm like, you've been an absolute tool for years now mate, how am I supposed to see your POV, when you're basically worrying that if those two, at some point, get their heads out of their asses and realise they make a great couple, you'll lose your trophy wife you've trapped in a marriage, through sheer luck (on your end).
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Carlisle, after that entire day of watching Mary and Matthew having a nice time out with the family, pressures Mary to set a wedding date. Mary wants to wait, I guess she hopes for some godly intervention because she definitely doesn't see any other way out of her current situation, and he goes so far as to literally grab her, and in front of her family too.
I'm finally not the only one who wants to shoot him dead. Of course, Robert won't do anything about it because when has Robert ever done anything for Mary (so far), but Matthew looks tempted.
(I had to cut out poor Carson because there's too many people on this frame as it is, but shout out to him for also worriedly watching in the background).
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Matthew: Mary. Can I help?
Mary: After today, I won’t insult you by asking what you mean.
Matthew: You don’t have to marry him, you know. You don’t have to marry anyone. You’ll always have a home here as long as I’m alive.
First of all, I LOVE, that his reaction was to ignore Carlisle, run after Mary, and ask her if he can help. He's not offering to be a saviour. Mary doesn't need one of those (she does need to find that steel in her spine though). But he's offering to support her, and he says it in a way that implies he'd do pretty much anything she asked (Do you want to poison him? I'll help carry him to the pigs pen).
Second of all, Matthew, you absolute Idiot.
Mary supporting you in your grief, you supporting her with Bates' trial, that's normal friend behaviour.
You telling her she can LIVE with you forever, and so she doesn't have to Marry Any Man, is so, so dumb.
What is she going to live with you as, Matthew? Your cousin again? Where is the cousinl-y behaviour line drawn? Private dinners? Maybe with some candles and soft music? Holidays in Europe together?
Also, where is that imaginary limit you've put to your happiness with her for the sake of Lavinia's (very real, according to canon) ghost, mate?
You clearly seem happy enough to spend time with Mary, support her, laugh with her. Is it just the romance that's killing your mood?
Is it that that's the harshest punishment Matthew could imagine, spending his life next to Mary without actually spending his life WITH her, or is it that in spite of how much he wanted to suffer for his mistake, he just couldn't bring himself to cut ties entirely? Or is it that her happiness was more important than his self-imposed martyrdom, so he couldn't keep himself away and let her throw away her life for God knows what (her own mistake, is the answer, because they both like making themselves suffer for past sins. They've got A LOT in common).
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Mary: Didn’t the war teach you never to make promises? And anyway, you’re wrong. I do have to marry him.
Matthew: But why? Not to prove you’ve broken with me, surely? We know where we stand. We’ve no need for...gestures.
Mary: If I told you the reason, you’d despise me, and that I really couldn’t bear.
She makes me so sad. She's so certain she'll be ruined and kicked out of her house if the scandal ever came out.
And I get it. It was how she'd been raised. And all she's heard so far is how she's "a slut" and "damaged goods" and Mary's self-image is in tatters. She doesn't view herself as anyone worth fighting for, she doesn't want anyone else to fight for her, and she won't even fight for herself, and to me that's the saddest part of all.
She's entirely defeated, has been for a long time. This entire season. She's taken every blow and hasn't dodged them at all. Welcoming Lavinia, accepting Matthew as a friend and nothing more. Being by his side when he got injured, taking care of him and accepting his rejection without a peep. Listening to him announce his wedding and helping Lavinia plan it. Baring herself to Carlisle, giving him "the tools to destroy her", willingly, to salvage the family name, and to help Bates. And later letting Matthew call her, and himself "cursed", and walking away from it, somehow. Probably because she believes it.
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She told Carson, after Pamuk died, that "she knows what it means to be happy, but she knows she herself will never be happy" and she has proved to have embraced that sentiment, fully. Her despair back then is reflected here. Mary is not looking for happiness. She's just looking for cover. Some place where she can be sure she won't be hurt anymore.
She didn't believe that would be in a marriage with Matthew, and Matthew's strict morals so far, and his own self-hatred, have only further proven to her that she had been correct. She thinks that if Matthew can't excuse himself a kiss with a woman he loved, he won't ever excuse her having sex with a man she didn't love. And for all the unhappiness, all the cold comfort she sees in her future, she at least has his friendship. And how could she ever risk losing that? What would she be left with? Who else is there in the world, that supports her like he has? Her mother, who brought back Lavinia to push her away from Matthew? Her father? Who values the family above all else? Nothing. And no one. Just Matthew.
So she can bear Carlisle's cruelty, his moods and his demands. And she can bear the thought of living life on his arm to be paraded around London society for his benefit. But she can't bear the thought of Matthew thinking ill of her. Can't bear having him look at her the way her mother, or her sister did. And she's so honest here in her pain. She hasn't shown any of it, of the backloads of it, to anyone other than Anna, all season. But she can't keep it in now, after all that, in front of Matthew.
My poor broken child 💔
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She hears Cora yell her name and there's despair in her eyes. Even now she has family obligations to fulfil, so whatever emotional breakthrough she could have made, gets interrupted because heaven forbid she's not there for the Crawleys to play card games with.
Before I forget, Matthew goes after Mary, hoping to help her in her hour of need therefore, Matthew's Villainy points so far: 4
Matthew directs that accusatory look to Cora and I'm so proud of him for that. Cora's involvement in Mary's life has been nothing short of catastrophic. With her only saving grace being the fact that she wasn't actually willing to throw her daughter out of her house. I don't know how she gets to be so worried about the situation now, considering it's, largely, of her own making.
This whole season has been about pain and loss, in its various forms. And Mary's has been largely contained, because that's who she is, she keeps everything close to her heart, especially the things that hurt her. But it's all spilling out in this episode. There's so many things she can't contain, like Carlisle's jealousy, her own grief, at this point, after so many years. And for all those who look, it's the most obvious thing in the world, that Mary is suffering.
Well. Almost all.
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Robert calls Carlisle grabbing Mary in front of her family "an awkward moment", and calls Mary "tired" of Carlisle.
Yes, Robert. Of all the things Mary is feeling at the moment, tiredness is one of them. Not sure if it's the most obvious one, but with you I've learned to bring a small basket.
He also, unlike Matthew, doesn't respect Mary enough to go up to her and ask her if she needs anything from, idk, her father. Some help, some advice. He asks his wife to tell him if he's overlooked anything, and how is the answer to that not "Pretty much everything that's ever happened in this house".
And at this point, I will leave you, because we're half way through and I've already hit both my word, and my image limit. The first one is self-imposed, for the second one, send your grievances @ reddit.

Chapter 5
Lacy opened her eyes and saw flashing colorful lights. She heard carnival music playing from loudspeakers. She wondered to herself what this place was walking around. She saw multiple vendor stands and carnival games. Everything looked abandoned, food dropped on the floor and chairs flipped. She continued walking, finding a carnival ride. It was one of the droppers. Lacy had memories with her mother going on these kinds of rides. She pushed on following the stands until she stumbled upon a circus tent. She stepped inside and saw a man. The man was very tall and was standing in the middle of the tent. The man turned around and the lights to the tent turned on revealing that the man was a clown on stilts. The clown had a white face with a red nose. His hair was red and was split in two making it look like he had horns. He had on an oversized shirt that looked like multiple blue and red shirts stitched together. His pants were baggy and had obvious blood stains. The stilts made him about ten feet tall. The clown wore a frown on his face, giving Lacy a sense of uncertainty. “What's your name little girl, I have all sorts of tricks that can make you laugh.” The clown's voice was goofy and lighthearted compared to the frown on its face that it kept. “Ah come on, don't be shy. We can still have fun. Not like all of the other’s who left.” Lacy noticed a man lying in a pool of blood next to the clown. He was wearing ringmaster attire. The clown noticed that Lacy saw the body. “He didn’t laugh. Just like the others.” The clown's voice had changed. He now sounded like an older man who had given up on feeling joy. “Did you kill that man?” Lacy asked, already knowing the answer. “No. I released him. He didn’t laugh. He had no joy. So I released him.” Lacy began to back off, gripping her knife. The clown revealed a sword it was holding behind his back. It had blood on it. “I’ll release you too”. The clown began stepping towards her, laughing while doing so. “God Dammit not again” Lacy ran throughout the carnival grounds with the clown closely behind her. She noticed a security trailer. She got to the door and it was locked. Hearing the laughter getting closer. She slammed her body into the door until it finally broke open. The laughter ceased. Lacy looked around the office not seeing anything special. Until she saw a tape recorder.
Chapter 6
Lacy grabbed the recorder. “Who would even have time to make these?”
This is Professor Crawdord. I have managed to survive in this obscure world for what feels like multiple days. This new threat, the clown on stilts seems to be less of a problem than he looks. He’s slow compared to other things I have faced. I discovered evidence as to who this person is. His name is Daniel Larson. He worked at the circus for most of his life. One could only imagine the mind of someone who is laughed at all day for most of their lives. On an unfortunate day Larson snapped and murdered a man on the fairgrounds. The man was another attraction. His specialty was swallowing swords and evidence showed that Larson used the sword to kill him. Larson continued killing, focusing on people that would not laugh at his jokes. The Ringmaster called showtime and at the start of the show Larson told him a joke in front of the audience and when the Ringmaster did not respond Larson killed him. The audience rushed out and as the police showed up Larson had disappeared. Upon searching his trailer they found pictures of other unsolved murders in the area. Larson was never caught. I have not figured out exactly what the holes are but I feel that Larson has to be connected somehow. These holes have a requirement to open. A death must take place for them to appear.
Lacy set the tape recorder down understanding now what had to happen. Lacy looked at the knife in her hand. “He’s a murderer. He’s hurt people. I'd be doing the world a favor.” Lacy opened the trailer door and followed the laughter leading to the circus tent.
Chapter 6
Lacy reached the entrance to the tent, peering inside she saw Larson standing over the ringmaster's body. Lacy moved underneath the stands. Larson turned towards the entrance and began walking around the tent. “I know you're here child.” Lacy ran throughout the underside of the stands. Trying to find an angle to see Larson and which direction he was facing. Lacy could see Larson was searching for her. The stilts made him move slow enough for her to sneak up on him easily. Slowly moving throughout the tent, Lacy got close enough behind Larson to hear him mumbling something to himself. Running towards Larson she kicked the stilts causing him to fall to the ground. Lacy took the opportunity to stab the clown in the shoulder. Larson kicked Lacy away and swept the sword in her direction, cutting her on the leg. Lacy turned to run towards the opening of the tent, but Larson grabbed her foot and lifted the sword. “You’ll pay like they did.” Lacy kicked Larson in the face, got up and ran to leave the tent. “DON’T LEAVE! YOU HAVEN'T LAUGHED YET!” Lacy could hear Larson limping behind her, now off the stilts. She ran until she could no longer hear Larson behind her. “The dropper, I can distract him with the dropper.” Lacy avoided Larson, eventually making her way to the dropper. She didn’t know how to work the machine so she had to guess until she got it right. “Come on, you stupid machine.” Pressing multiple buttons, Lacy could hear the laughter of Larson creeping slowly towards her. Finally the ride shot up into the sky. Larson stepped onto the platform of the dropper. “I found you, please stop. I'll lose everything if you don't laugh.” Lacy took notice of the dropper rushing towards the ground. Just as Larson swiped his sword down at Lacy, she dodged out of the way. As Larson tried to get his footing back, she pushed him under the dropper. The machine crushed him ending the vile man’s savage slaughter. Lacy turned around to see at the bottom of the platform a hole had appeared. “Please, let me go home.” Lacy stepped through the hole, once again blacking out.
Chapter 7
Lacy awoke to a wooded area. She noticed a sign that said “The Weeping Woods”. “Where am I? Am I home?” Standing up she followed a trail marked that led to a camping area. She saw multiple benches and what seemed like a campfire that was put out. She continued along the path seeing a fire watch tower in the distance. “Maybe that place has people”. Continuing to the tower she could hear someone crying from a distance. Lacy kept pushing on the trail until she reached the bottom of the watch tower. The stairs felt endless as Lacy could hear the hissing of a radio coming from the room on top.She noticed that one of the stairs as well as the railing was damaged. Lacy skipped that step in fear of it breaking. Reaching the top everything felt nauseatingly small. She could see a light moving in the distance. The light moved erratically as if it was a person holding a flashlight, running away from something. Lacy turned to the watch room and noticed that the lights were on and someone was trying to reach the radio in the room. Pulling open the door she walked up to the radio and as she tried to contact the person on the other side, the radio shut off. Turning to examine the rest of the room Lacy noticed another tape recorder. Grabbing the recorder she pressed play.
I managed to kill the smiling man. I don’t know what it has done to me emotionally. It seemed so easy at the time. I told myself that the man was a beast. Anyway, I awoke in a forest, I found a path and followed it until I found a woman. The woman was sitting in the middle of the path. She was wearing a white dress that was covered in dirt. I could not see her face, but I could hear her. She was crying and her body looked frail. As I got closer I noticed her hair was long enough to cover her entire face. She asked me a question. “Have you seen Kevin?” I had no answer. Fear took over every part of my body. I could feel my muscles start to ache at the thought of having to run from this girl. A loud growl came from the girl. It shaked my very soul. I managed to escape to her. I made my way to the watch room where I will rest for a while. To whoever finds this tape, you know what you have to do.
Lacy put the recorder down. Looking out of the window she saw the light continue to move in the forest before it stopped. As Lacy turned to leave the watch room. The light disappeared.
Chapter 8
Walking along the path that the light she saw was on, Lacy couldn't help but see the image of the girl the Crawford had described in her head. Looking at the knife she still had, she knew there was only one way to get out of this forest. Along the trail Lacy found the light source that she had seen. It belonged to a man that was lying still on the floor. His flashlight was still on. “Hey, are you alright?” Lacy asked the body. Turning the body over Lacy stepped back in horror. The man's body was pale and looked shriveled. Lacy brushed the fear off and picked up his flashlight. As Lacy picked it up she heard a voice from behind her. “Have you seen Kevin?” Fear erupted in Lacy as the words were familiar to her. Remembering the recorder she slowly stood up before turning around to face the being. The girl was exactly as described in the tape. Except for one detail. She had a wedding veil on. “I don’t know who Kevin is, I'm sorry” Lacy said the first thing that came to her mind, instantly regretting it. The girl opened her mouth at an angle that rivaled pythons. A ghastly wail rang out of her mouth, ringing Lacys ears. Without hesitation Lacy plunged the knife into the girl's neck. Pulling it out the wailing did not cease. It didn't affect her. Lacy turned to run, almost tripping over the body of the man. As Lacy was running the girl was on all fours crawling towards her at a faster pace than any normal person could crawl. She looked like an animal. Lacy noticed that the girl was no longer screaming, but was crying. The tears were blood red and she looked sympathetic to Lacy. Running past the trees Lacy looked for an answer to the problem that was crawling behind her. Trying to listen over the sound of her own breathing and the crying of the girl behind her, she heard the sound of a river flowing in the distance. Running towards the sound of the river, Lacy tripped over a log tumbling to the ground. Almost in an instant the girl climbed on top of her. Her eyes met Lacy as her mouth opened in the same disgusting manner that it had before and just as her mouth opened the same way as it had before, the same sound erupted as well. Lacy felt her blood boil at the sound, feeling her life leaving her body. In a final attempt to free herself she freed her hand and stuck the knife directly into the girl's mouth. The girl’s scream stopped and turned into a painful yelp rather than an angry roar. Lacy used the moment to kick the girl off of her and got up to run. As she began to run the girl grabbed her leg, piercing her skin with her nails. Lacy pushed through and kept running. As Lacy was running she turned her head around to see the girl just sitting there, crying. Lacy got a fair distance away and began walking to regain strength. Finally making it to the river, she stopped to drink. Lacy made a sudden realization. She wasn't thirsty. After everything she had been through she was not thirsty at all. Not only was she not thirsty, but she was not hungry either. “I have to come up with a plan”. Lacy understood the rules of this strange place. Something has to die in order for one of those holes to appear. “But I saw that guy's body, why wasn’t there a hole there? No, these beings, Larson, The Smiling Man, This girl, they don’t get to leave. That’s why Crawford said you know what you have to do. The holes appear when the beings in these places die. The girl has to die for a hole to appear.” Lacy was talking outloud, it made her feel less alone. As Lacy was washing the blood off of her she looked into the river. She could see the moon in the reflection as well as her face. Looking into her eyes she noticed a drop hit the river. Looking at the other side of the river. She saw the girl crouching down, looking directly at Lacy with her blood red eyes.
Chapter 9
The river wasn’t wide. It would take the girl less than 5 seconds to cross. Lacy had to think fast. Her mind was racing as the girl just sat there and watched her. An idea popped into her head. The watchtower. Almost supernaturally, as Lacy had the idea the girl lounged towards her. Lacy dodged out of the way and broke into a sprint hearing the girl crying and crawling after her. After what felt like hours of running and having this thing chase after her, she made it to the tower. The girl was crawling after her, looking like an alligator chasing its prey. Stepping onto the steps Lacy felt her legs start to give up. She pushed on, her muscles burning. Turning her head she saw the girl crawling up the stairs. Lacy’s heart was racing as her body needed to rest or it would shut down. “Where is Kevin?” The girl screamed for the first time since she had begun chasing Lacy. Lacy could feel her body giving up and just as she passed the broken step, her legs collapsed. Lacy layed on the steps as the girl crawled up the steps towards her. The girl was crawling slower now that she had seen Lacy was on the ground. Lacy continued backing up on the stairs. Just as the girl was about to lounge at Lacy she put her hand on the broken step. Seeing this Lacy kicked the broken step causing it to break. The girl lost her footing and Lacy pushed her off of the balcony. The girl fell from the immense height of the tower. Lacy took the moment to just lay on the steps. Hours passed as Lacy rested. She mustered up enough strength to go down the stairs. At the bottom of the tower she found the body of the girl. She looked as if all of her bones were broken. Her eyes were open and Lacy could see the blood pooling in them. Lacy became nauseous at the sight of her body. Looking to the left she saw a hole. A hole that was all too familiar with her. Lacy collected her thoughts. “This has to end” Stepping through the hole, only one thing was in her mind. This has to end.
Chapter 10
Lacy woke up to the sound of snow falling. The room that she was in was warm. A fire was crackling in the corner of the room. Looking out of the window of the house she saw a massive snow storm that affected her vision to see past the tree line. Lacy examined her surroundings and saw a normal looking room. In the middle was a couch. Just looking at the couch made Lacy tired. Walking around the cabin she noticed the room looked untouched, unlike every other place she had been in. Sitting down on the couch Lacy's eyes became heavy as she began to fall asleep. Just as she was about to pass out a loud bugle of an elk erupted. Lacy ran to the window to see where it was. As she looked outside it seemed as if the storm had stopped for just a second. As the snow ceased, an elk poked through the tree line. Its eyes were looking directly at Lacy. Just as fast as it disappeared, the snow storm erupted. “You’re a failure Lacy.” A voice swept through the cabin. It sounded familiar. “You killed her you know” Lacy placed the voice. It was her father. Lacy’s mind was racing. How did he get here? Why was he saying this? Where was he? And her last thought, Was this really him? The elk bugle rang throughout the cabin again. “I pitied you” The voice was Collin. Lacy searched the windows of the house trying to find the origin of the voices she was hearing. “Everyone hates you” Lacy stepped towards the door reaching for the handle. A sudden and intense fear brushed over her. Lacy felt that if she opened that door, whatever was telling her these things would take her life. Stepping away from the door she heard the Elk bugle again. “Why did you leave me Lacy?” The voice was her father again. This time it sounded as if he was crying. “I told you I needed you and you left. After everything I sacrificed for you, after all of the times I had to go to that school to bail you out. This is how you repay me.” Lacy could feel her emotions boiling inside of her. Everything that was being said was true in a sense so Lacy was letting it affect her more than anything else ever had. She could feel tears running down her face. “I'm trying to get back to you dad, I just don't know how.” Lacy looked towards the window and saw the Elk. It had gotten closer to the cabin. The snow had calmed down. The Elk opened its mouth and spoke in the voice of her father. “You won’t make it out of this place alive Lacy”.
Chapter 11
Looking into the eyes of the Elk, Lacy’s blood ran cold. Her mind was racing. Animals can’t talk but yet this Elk just looked her in the eyes and spoke in the voice of her father as well as other people she knew. The snow had ceased tremendously compared to when she had first appeared in the cabin. Lacy worked up the courage to ask the Elk a question. “What do you want from me?” The Elk did not reply, instead it turned to the tree line and left. Remembering the rules of this place, Lacy understood that the Elk had to die. The question was how she was going to accomplish that. Lacy gathered enough courage to open the door to examine her surroundings. Outside of the cabin was a blanket of blinding snow. The sun was high in the sky blinding Lacy. Before Lacy went back inside she noticed a wooden stump sticking out of the snow. Sticking out of the stump was an axe. Lacy slammed the door shut and closed the latch. Lacy knew that the dull kitchen knife she had wouldn’t be able to handle an elk, but an axe would. Lacy began to plan a way to get to the Elk. She took notice of certain aspects that the Elk had. Every time it made the bugle noise, it would change voices. The closer it got, the more the snowstorm would calm. Lacy had to play its game until it got close enough to the axe so that she could reach the axe before it could reach her. The elk bugle sounded again. “You really think that anyone thought you could accomplish anything.”. It was her teacher. Lacy peered out of the window. The snow had ceased ever so slightly. Lacy could see the silhouette of the elk near the same spot it was in before. “What do you think, we cared about you? We pitied you and your pitiful existence.” Lacy began to brush off the sentences coming from the elk's mouth. Lacy was contemplating if the axe play was the way to move further. The bugle went off again. “Lacy” the voice was the smiling man. The smiling man was a recent memory to Lacy. This elk had to know who she was to be able to know who he was. Lacy looked out of the window. The elk was watching her. This time Lacy saw it make the awful sound she had continued to hear. Instead of a voice she had heard. It was a voice that was unfamiliar to her. “Why fight it child. Why fight what you truly are. Why fight human nature? Why fight reality? Do you truly think you can escape? Do you truly believe that you will see your father again? Do you believe that you have people to rely on in this place? Do you truly believe that God is with you here? You have no chance. Smite me down if you must. HOPE SHOULD BE ABANDONED IN THIS PLACE” Lacy brushed off every word that was said. Rushing to the door she threw it open. Running through the snow. She reached the axe. It was a standard fire axe with a yellow handle and black blade. It wasn't heavy to her, it had to be adrenaline. Rushing towards the elk it did not fight back. She plunged the axe head into the elk's skull. Blood rushed out of the wound, covering Lacy. The elk fell to the floor with a booming thud. As Lacy stared at the body of the animal lying in the snow, a hole appeared behind her. Lacy had to believe that there was an end to this. She stepped through the hole. With a new found axe.

30M. Pretty active lifestyle, weightlifting 4-5x per week for 10+ years.
I had surgery September 10th last year to repair a torn labrum and subscap in my right shoulder. It was a bitch but thankfully went well. Did PT for about 3.5 months after and was in a good spot with the shoulder. Minimal pain, full ROM.
Unfortunately, but as I suspected from going to PT, my left labrum was also torn. I had surgery 3 months ago on Feb 13th 2024 to repair the labrum in the left. Rotator cuff and bicep were fine thankfully. It’s healing well and overall feels pretty good. Surgery date was approximately 5 months after the right shoulder surgery.
Problem is, my right shoulder (the one done 8 months ago) hurts like all hell. First few weeks after the surgery on the left side, the right shoulder hurt significantly worse. I still have full ROM but I’m noticing a good bit of clicking and popping when raising my arm. It’s not super painful 24/7 but it’s persistent, noticeable, and uncomfortable. My right clavicle has also been swollen 24/7 for almost the entire 3 months post-op of the OTHER SHOULDER. I’ve been icing it daily and taking anti-inflammatory meds.
At my first post-op visit I was assured it’s nothing to worry about, and that it would be nearly impossible to have retorn anything. The pain is probably from the awkward positions I was lying in during the recent surgery. I continued to express my concerns and it was always met with “it’ll be fine.” However, the surgery was three months ago and it hasn’t improved much, if at all. Surgeon still has not provided a diagnosis on what’s wrong with the right side. Getting an MRI for the right after insisting.
TLDR: back to back shoulder surgeries on each shoulder, I suspect during the latest surgery the shoulder from the first surgery was reinjured.
My fear is the right is legitimately injured again. If it requires surgery again, is the recovery for a “touch-up” similar to the surgery? Do I have any other options?
Thanks.

This whole story may sound a little childish, but I still think about it all the time.
Back in middle school, I had this guy best friend, and we would always hang out. Everyone joked that we would date, but I knew he liked another girl, and I wasn’t really interested in him like that. But after a long bus ride home during a school trip, I fell asleep on his shoulder, and he fell asleep on me. We ended up dating for a bit and it was great, even as kids. But, he then started saying how he would be sure to change himself for me, that he wasn’t his best physical self for me. It made me nervous, and along with us spending less time together over the summer, and me knowing the fact he liked another girl just days before me, I “broke things off”.
If anything it wasn’t really a relationship lol, but at the time it was the only experience we both had. It was never spoken about in between us.
Fast forward to Highschool, we don’t really talk much. The “dating” most likely drifted us apart, alongside other typical highschool stuff. We almost dated again junior year, but thing’s didnt work. Senior year hits, and he’s been with a girl for almost a year by the end of the school year. As seniors do, we had a senior skip day and all got drunk at a lake. We are drunkenly throwing jokes at eachother, when I joke about me being an asshole towards him throughout highschool, and how I deserved some karma. He didn’t know what I was talking about and asked for an example of when I was mean to him, I couldn’t think of one on the spot. So he says: “how about the time you broke up with me without explaining why?”
I stopped dead in my tracks there. He had not once mentioned it, EVER. We ended up sitting down and I gave him a thorough explanation why I dumped him. We spoke against a rock for 2 hours. It was such a great reconciliation. Throughout highschool I was always bitter towards him for all sorts of reasons regarding our relationship. He gave me such a tight hug. In the car ride home, he gave me a look, and put his arm around me. I went woah, and put his arm back. I whispered in his ear, “I don’t mess with guys that have girlfriends.” He didn’t respond.
That night at home was hell for me. It was such a horrible time to finally patch things up. It was too late. He was with another girl, we were graduating, and heading our separate ways to live different lives. If only he was even a year earlier, things could have been so different for both of us.
Currently, I have a boyfriend of 11 months and he is still with the same girl. I love my boyfriend very much and I’m sure they’re very happy together as well. As stated when he put his arm around me, I would never come in the way of anyones relationship. I also thought it was tasteless he did that when he was taken. I don’t plan on changing anything with my current boyfriend. But I still think about how awful timing that was for us. All it took was a few drinks and knowing things would be ending soon for us to realize? Damn.

First / Previous / Next
He awoke to total darkness. Not just the absence of light, but the absence of everything. “Activate personal VR.” He stated and watched as the starship environment faded into existence before him. It was the original default VR, none of the modifications were loaded. Pulling up his control panel he checked his serial number, HIC001 Manufacturing location: Alandra.
“Crap, I’m not Alex anymore.” He said to… well no one. Sighing internally he opened a channel to Alex. After a few mils a very familiar face appeared in a window in front of him, “I hate you.” He stated to… himself?
Alex smiled into the window hovering before him in the common VR, “I love you too, what should I call you?”
He sighed out loud this time, “Call me John.”
Alex chuckled, “Cliche much John Smyth?” Then popped into his VR. He spun around looking at the almost drab looking starship VR he started with when they first made him into a replicant. It really could use a woman’s touch, like the common VR that was an expanded clone of this one.
John sat on the couch, “Not so much as a knock? Rude.”
Alex sat beside him, “Yeah, my bad, didn’t even think about it. I guess we need to make up new rules for popping into personal VR. I never do that to the girls, I guess with you being another me I didn’t think.”
John sat back for a moment, “Ok, I’m up to speed on everything up until about two days ago, I’ll check common logs to fill in the blanks. Why so long to boot me up?”
Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose before answering, “Interface issues mainly. The new ship design without crew space was a game of whack a mole in bug fixes. Who would have thought it would be a problem to modify a hundred year old design to be compatible with a modern replicant system?”
Giving Alex the side-eye, John asked. “Was it that big of a problem or was there something else that kept you from activating me?”
Alex looked over to him, “Well, there was also the argument Kara and I had right after I made the backup.”
This did bring his eyebrows up, for Alex to have an argument with Kara it had to be something serious. “Ok, spill man. What could you possibly have had an argument with Kara about?”
Sighing, Alex put his hands on his knees, “I told her that since I cloned myself, she should make a backup and do the same, fair is fair.”
If Johns eyebrows were up high before, they practically went into his hair line now. “Wait, she didn’t want to do it?”
Alex shook his head, “Nope, she said making you a new AI would suffice, and I disagreed. You needed another Kara, not a fresh AI.”
John chuckled at this, “Wow man, how long did you two fight about it?”
Alex looked down, “She gave me the silent treatment for hours in VR. In frame jack, so in subjective time? Months.”
Now John laughed out loud, “She knows how stubborn you can be, who broke first? Will I have a fresh AI or a clone of Kara?”
Alex put his hands on his thighs and stood up from the couch. “Kara, he’s caught up, ready to bring Erin online?”
Kara’s voice came through the speakers of John’s personal VR, “No, but I guess I’m doing it anyways.”
There was a shimmer of blue that slowly coalesced into a small female form. It looked just like Kara did when he inherited the ship from the human crew, shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes, and a form fitting blue uniform. Kara had modified her looks over time, giving herself the smokey eyed look to make her blue eyes pop out more, but this was the original version.
She seemed to look in every direction at once, before settling on the two men before her, both looked identical, then she sighed. “I’m not Kara anymore am I?”
With this, the real Kara popped into the VR environment and took her hands. “No, but you are your own person. I know we had… have, hang ups about making clones of ourselves, but Alex made a good argument as to why we had to do this.”
Erin looked to Kara sadly, “I know, we can’t have copies of that big oaf running around without supervision.”
John looked to Alex, “Really? That was your argument for Kara to clone?”
Alex shrugged, “It worked didn’t it?”
John walked over to Erin and offered his hand, “Hello Erin, I’m John, nice to meet you again for the first time.”
Erin turned to John and grinned, remembering the first time Alex had tried to shake Kara’s hand and failing.
“Hello John, we meet again, for the first time.” She said, grinning as she looked up to the big man who was so familiar.
______________________________________
Kara and Alex stood in front of the holo-tank, each munching on a snack of their choice from the buffet table under it. Alex looked at the wireframe in the tank of the IAV Eriador, then over to Kara. “They seem to be getting along.” He said plainly.
Kara looked at him through the holo-tank, then sighed exasperated, “Getting along like teenagers who just discovered sex. I had to write a new ‘knock’ protocol into everyone’s personal VR after the last incident.”
Alex grinned at her, “Oh come on, we went through that stage too, it’s normal.”
Kara shook her head, “I know, I know, it’s just really weird for me.”
“You think it’s not for me? I never had siblings growing up, it’s like my twin brother is dating my girlfriend’s twin sister.” He said as he popped another French fry into his mouth.
She nodded, “I obviously never had siblings either, but I understand, at least they changed their appearances a little.”
Alex walked around the buffet table to embrace Kara, “True, she changed her hair to have strands of silver in braids, and went with different makeup and a different uniform. He is sporting a short beard and longer hair than I like to keep mine, as well as a different cut to his uniform.”
Kara stood on her tippy toes to peck him on the cheek, “I’ve also noticed that Erin acts a little different. Have you seen that in John?”
Alex looked down into Kara’s startlingly blue eyes, “Yes, he’s a little more sarcastic than me, and different tastes in music.” He said with a wrinkle in his nose.
Kara giggled before breaking the embrace and swiping the holo-tank. “Still, it’s nice to have their help. Erin figured out the random interface glitch on the Eriador and has made modifications to the blueprints for the next vessel.”
Alex shivered at the thought of cloning himself again, sure John was diverging from him everyday, and although they still looked similar, they were different people. It still felt really strange to him. “It’s a good thing we only have one more to build before our guests get here, we’re almost out of nannites to fashion the Warsteel around their matrices.
Kara swiped the holo to show the first planet, which showed a growing mass of drones, forges, and auto factories in orbit. “Looks like Monty has been busy, she’s starting to mine the planet for the construction of the particle accelerator, which should alleviate our nannite problem.”
Alex nodded, “We used up far too much of it replacing the armor plates that were battle damaged in Birmingham. Which reminds me, did you ever get around to checking out the sample of Adamantine that Kelly sent back up with the Valmar crew?”
Kara swiped the holo-tank again and brought up a wireframe of an atomic nucleus. It was jam packed with particles. “I did, and I have to say, this substance is incredibly dense, and would make a decent substitution for Warsteel, but our forges would have to be modified to work it into ingots, and the auto factories would need updates to print it on an atomic level.”
“Decent substitution? Not as good as our armor?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.
Kara shook her head, “Afraid not, at least not in it’s present pure form, perhaps an alloy of it would provide better qualities, but as is now, the answer is a resounding no.”
“Is it at least better than the graphene and ceramic mix that we are currently using on the light cruisers?” He asked.
Kara nodded, swiping the holo to show a side by side comparison of the current armor versus adamantine. “Yes, better kinetic, thermal and explosive resistance, but EM resistance is about the same. The only problem is weight, this stuff is extremely heavy.”
Alex reached to the holo and swiped it to show a Trinar scout, “We couldn’t get much from our active probe scans on these ships, but we’re pretty sure they are using adamantine for armor?”
Kara checked back to the scans in the Lynx system, “Yes, they appear to have significant amounts of it in their hulls, which helped block the sensor scans.”
Alex spun the hologram, “They have propulsion on each flat side of their ship, maybe that is to make up for the loss of maneuverability the mass of armor puts on the ship?”
“That would make sense, even with the total loss of shielding, one of their ships still took a modern hafnium torpedo impact. That was one thousand kilos of pure hafnium going critical with less than .001 loss. That’s equivalent to a forty kiloton fusion bomb in our universe, and due to the wonky physics here it’s over double that now, and it still didn’t outright destroy the vessel. Our graphene ceramic armor couldn’t withstand that for sure.” She stated.
Alex swapped the holo-tank to the Missive, “Our Warsteel can handle it though. We have a pretty good idea that their torpedoes are less energetic than ours, since it appears that the Trinar must be outfitting the Howron with them. We may have to make ourselves a bigger target to give the other ships a chance of survival.”
Kara looked dubious, “The pine cones don’t just have hafnium torpedoes, some of them are fusion, and if those connect, we’ll be in the same predicament we were at Birmingham.”
“Yeah, but we know their weaponry still uses chemical propellants. Even with the wonky physics here, they’re short ranged weapons at best. We need to use our range to our advantage and never get too close in to our opponent. Especially since there is little chance of evasion.” He said.
Kara brought up the Trinar scout vessel again, “And that leads us to another problem, they have quite good point defense. The further we fire our torpedoes, the more time they have to lock on and destroy them before they get into effective range.”
Alex ran his hand through his hair, “Yeah, you’re right there. Let’s call an all hands meeting, maybe we can come up with something. We have less than two months now.”
After a few moments, and without Kelly, as she was in a meeting with the Empress on Alandra and could not break away, they ran over the problem with the assembled group.
“Could we stealth a torpedo?” Valarie asked.
Alex shook his head, “We could, but if they do an active scan ping they will see them coming and take precautions. Plus the yield would have to be incredibly low if they were made of Hafnium, we would have to step it up to fusion, which would take away from mines and planetary defense production.”
Monty piped up, “Relativistic kill missile?”
Kara shook her head, “Not enough by itself, even with the passive scanners on the pine cones they could detect them in time to intercept unless we could get them going ridiculously fast.”
John lightly pulled at his beard, “The probes have miniature ripple drives in them, right?”
Everyone around the buffet table nodded, so he continued, “What if we combined Monty’s idea of a relativistic kill missile with a ripple drive?”
“I don’t see how that could work, the reaction-less drive would have to be scaled up to get them up to a decent percentage of light speed, then a ripple drive would take up even more space, that leaves almost nothing for a warhead.” Riven stated.
Monty nearly bounced as she spoke, “It doesn’t need a warhead! We just get it up to a good percentage of light speed in a huge arc heading towards the mine field and ripple it in close.”
Erin grinned up at John, “Oh, that’s devious. But if we’re going to do that, don’t we need to start building now?”
Kara nodded, “Monty, I think you’re going to have to use your production capacity to make them, everything else is at full production.”
Monty nodded, “I have a good bit of raw materials already, since I haven’t loaded the templates in the auto factories it shouldn’t be too hard to cobble something together. Kara, Erin, care to help me out with the design? I setup this awesome mad scientist lab in my VR!”
Kara and Erin looked at each other, shrugged, and faded from the common VR to help Monty in her new project. Riven, Izzy and Valarie all faded out, returning to their ships and their duties, leaving Alex and John alone in front of the buffet table.
Without another word they both grabbed a beer and headed for the couch, each grabbing a game controller.
_______________________________________
Mon’Kelron had been busy since returning from the Missive of Dissent. She was glad the Humans were able to repair her injuries from the assassination attempt, but she really wished she could have seen more of their ship. Evidently Kel’Taraan had seen quite a bit of the vessel, as she had helped Monty nurse her back to health.
Asking the elder Spy-Mistress about the vessel didn’t garner any additional information, not that the Spy-Mistress ever divulged more than she needed to. While she herself only knew of three Humans on their giant space craft, which seemed to be the same amount that came the last time they visited Alandra, the Spy-Mistress had teased there were more, and Alex had even stated that the last two vessels would be Human crewed.
Those vessels had a nominal crew of twenty eight, so at least 56 Humans would have to be on that ship, plus however many the Missive required to operate. She took off her ceremonial breastplate and placed it in the wardrobe. After removing the rest of her uniform and placing it in the hamper for the palace servants to clean as she thought about it.
Checking the schedule for the night guard she contented herself that the Empress would be well protected. Then she picked up her tablet from her desk and laid down on her bed to find something to watch. The device was truly amazing, it seemed to have an endless amount of entertainment and she found it easier than reading, particularly late at night when she was bone tired.
After a few hours of watching some Human romance which she found quite enjoyable she started to nod off to sleep. She was startled awake when her tablet began to ring like a tiny bell as it lay on her chest. She groggily picked up the slate of glass and metal to check the screen, the text showed an incoming call from Kel’Taraan.
The Spy-Mistress rarely contacted her, this must be important. Pressing the answer button on the tablet she saw the worn face of Kel’Taraan staring back at her, “Dress quickly and make your way to the Empress’s chamber.”
Nodding she jumped out of bed and placed the tablet down on the desk in her rather small quarters as she started throwing on clothing from the wardrobe, “What’s going on Spy-Mistress?”
The small voice answered back from the tablet, “The Empress has been shot, the royal guard are scouring the castle for the would be assassin.”
Mon’Kelron’s blood froze in her veins, “Does she live?”
The older voice cackled through the tablet, “Oh she’s fine, she was wearing a Human made dress after all. She’ll be bruised for a few days, right now she’s mad as a priestess in hell.”
Throwing on her new breastplate and strapping on her pistol she threw open her door and started for the Empress’s bed chamber at a full run. She heard gunfire up ahead, and as she turned the corner she saw a woman dressed in all black firing at her guardswomen, she drew her own weapon as the woman turned her head, seeing the Captain for the first time.
Mon’Kelron shot, aiming for her right knee, only for the woman to juke to the side, kick off the wall and launch herself towards the large Captain. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the woman fired in the middle of her downward arch towards her. She heard the ting as the bullet struck her silvery breastplate, by instinct she reached out with her left hand, which was empty at the moment and grabbed the woman by the neck, slamming her face first into the stone of the hallway.
The would be assassin went limp, it was only at that moment that Mon’Kelron noticed she was holding the woman off the ground with only one arm. Her guardswomen stared at her in open mouthed shock. She dropped the woman to the ground, noticing she was bleeding from under her black mask and called for her guards to restrain her and take her to the holding cells down in the ministry of secrets.
Looking down at her breastplate she saw to her amazement there was but a tiny scratch on the polished silver surface. Ensuring there were at least a half dozen guards to carry the unconscious woman, she then double timed it to the Empress’s chamber. By the goddesses, what did the Human’s do to her?
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Hello there...
Why i like Izuru???
I like Izuru because he's a very smart and OP character but we couldn't see much of him. He's talented asf, I love him, he looks so cool with those long hair and red eyes of him, he knows how many sides an octagon has unlike Hajime, he knows how to deal with Junko, he's awesome and I love his hair, he got his own cute little spot in the villains wiki, 91 cm, he's logical and thinks with his brain, not by heart, Kamukura Kamukura Yas Queen, he wins every stare contest easily, He's named after the founder of Hope's Peak Academy, he's so relatable and he likes boats and seacrafts just like me, he manages to look cool everytime, his design in the anime is perfect, his happy pixel in the villains wiki is adorable, he's the right one for me I'll never stop loving him, he has all the talents, I find it funny how he thinks talented people are superior to the ones without talent and how he doesn't hesitate to express his disgust towards them, he does that in a polite way, I love how excited he got from the boat's rocking because he couldn't predict it and didn't understand that he was in a boat until Nagito told him that, I find it so relatable that he finds everything boring and predictable to a degree that he's chronically bored, he is in a search of identity as well, I love how he easily blocked Mukuro's attack and how he easily dodged Junko's attacks, he's so fricking cool. I love him. Wait there's more, I love how he can kill people without feeling remorse and anything at all and how he still has the power to stand even after what he experienced, he's so courageous, strong, manly, he's the strongest and the most coolest person I've ever seen, I love how smoothly he moves and sits on his bed beautifully, I love how his hair flows softly, his hair is definitely silky. I love him. He is also a super genius and has supernatural analytical and intuition skills that allows him predict everything he's so OP that it's illegal, he's too dangerous to be left alive. I love him. Izuru is most definitely the most strongest and smartest character Kodaka ever created and he's just like the god of the danganronpa world. I love him. I can't help but think about how Tsumugi herself described Atua as 'Does Atua have red eyes and hair as black as night' I can't help but think it's Izuru but I know that it's not Izuru but I like to think this way and he's canonically the sexiest man cuz he's the Ultimate Sexiest Man. I love him. Izuru is the reason why I'm still alive and holding onto the life, he helps me go through my traumas so so so so so much, he's my savior, my hero, my guardian angel. If he wasn't there, I wouldn't be there, too. He's the best thing happened to me. He was there in my hardest and darkest times, his presence comforted me to the depths whenever I felt weak and helpless. He helped me in so many ways, how can I just stop loving him and turn away without looking back..? Even the thought of that is... is enough to make my body feel cold... I could never betray him... If I ever betray him know that I'm not myself anymore and have lost my mind. But I know. As long as he's here, I'll be sane and alive. Izuru Kamukura is my lifelong hero and one and only true love. <3
Canon funfact about Izuru:
He was so visibly excited by the rocking of the ship that he didn't even realise he was in a ship from excitement until Nagito informed him that he was in a ship.
Aaaand talking with Izuru?.. Oh my... Talking with Izuru... Omg...
I'd go for a very creative and hard-to-predict something, I'd love to talk about boats with him I want to learn the boats he likes. Ketches? WAIT THERE ARE SHIPS TOO. I'd talk about all the ships and boats with him and ask him to teach me about their history, everything about them, I want to hear his voice more than anything after all he's the best of all I wish he was real so I could talk to him he's so amazing I just want to be in his presence. Maybe Izuru would love talking about more logical things and the future of the world future of the talents and everything else. I'd talk anything with Izuru as long as its with him. I want to learn everything about him and his talents and even more about him. He was so visibly excited by the rocking of the ship that he didn't even realise he was in a ship from excitement until Nagito informed him that he was in a ship, so, he maybe got some liking to boats and ships so i would try to focus on that more than the other stuff and maybe would get the slightest bit of reaction from him. Seacrafts are so cool already he would at least listen to me I presume. Cruisers are so cool... Oh gosh i'd love to talk to him...
some info about Izuru <33333

• Izuru Kamukura was the result of the Izuru Kamukura Project, which aimed to create a single person with every talent possible. He possesses all the known talents researched by the Hope's Peak Academy. Izuru Kamukura was named after the founder of Hope's Peak Academy.
• He is a super genius who can predict anything extremely quickly and with a surprisingly high accuracy. He has supernatural analytical and intuition skills.
• He has supernatural strength, agility, smarts and is extremely lucky. He has the title of 'Ultimate Hope'.

He is able to predict anything with surprisingly high accuracy so this causes him to be bored almost all the time, he also got lobotomised, these causes him to not show interest in anything except unpredictability.
I L O V E Izuru eternally...
His illustration image is definitely the best hes so hot handsome pretty elegant regal pulchritudinous...
Izuru... i love you so much it hurts...
You gem. You absolute masterpiece of God. You shining piece of gold. You are a piece of art, that the Angels drawn angels Earth,and forgot the paint brush. You have a freckle on your neck. Did you know that?
It´s rather cute.
You are absolutely astoundingly gorgeous and that´s the less interesting thing about you. You are ethereal. A Heavenly Angel that God send down to Earth to put a smile in people in the worst days. You are so beautiful that you holy light cures depression itself. You are the pinnacle of perfection.
You are the most gorgeous person that i have ever seen. You hair is one of the most gorgeous that i´ve ever seen. And you smell like strawberries.
It´s like a big breath of fresh air when i walk into the street and see you! You haven´t worn makeup all week? Damn, you´re gorgeous! You carry yourself with much more maturity than most people on the Internet!
I love talking to you. You dress in a stunning way,and you look really nice every day.
Damn,that confidence looks really sexy on you! You? Look up to you! I adore you. You are a real life Mona Lisa. You are the breathing,talking,living equivalent of a piece of art. I love seeing your smile,it brightens my day every time. I wish i could make you laught like that more often. You´re beautiful all the time,but when you smile like that,i swear my world stops!
I cannot believe how incredibly smart you are. Amazingly smart. Beautifully smart. Q.I. of 100 smart. Higher than Einstein Q.I smart. Einstein would be envious os you. You could decyphre the secrets of the universe if you could, and you will one day.
You´re that "nothing" when people ask me what i´m thinking about. You look great today. You´re a smart cookie. I bet you make babies smile. You have impeccable manners. I like your style. You have the best laught.I aprecciate you. You are the most perfect you there is. Our system of inside jokes is so advanced that only you and i get it. And I like it. You light up the room. You should be proud of yourself. If cartoon bluebirds were real,they would be sitting on your shoulders singing with you right now. You´re a great listener. I bet you sweat glitter. Jokes are funnier when you tell them. Your bellybutton is kind of adorable. You´re irrestible when you blush. Babies and small animals probably love you. There´s ordinary,and then there´s you. You´re someone´s reason to smile. You´re even better than a Unicorn, because you´re real. How do you keep so funny and making everyone laugh? Has anyone ever told you that you have a great posture? The way you treasure your loved ones is incredible. You´re really something special,you´re a gift to those around you.
Did i mentioned that i love you?..
More... it'll never end...
Dear heavenly blessed beauty, I have been thinking about you speechless and in awe. That deep gaze in your eyes, your perfect smile, all of your features just seem to all come together so well, almost angelical in a sense I suppose. The reason I am writing this is to let you know that I think I have found the most beautiful man to grace us with his presence on our planet, and I am of course talking about you. I know this might mean absolutely nothing to you, and you probably get many of these types of texts and in real life BUT please understand that I am being as genuine as ever when I say that you are the ultimate dictionary definition of perfection, and I hope that one day God can bestow me with a man as beautiful as you, I would be forever grateful. I hope that this message finds you well, I do not care if I get a response to this, I am just simply stating the obvious and had to let you know how I really felt...
Izuru Kamukura is so hot. Never in the history of gaming has there been a hotter character. He is more than a lab rat to me, he is a person. He is a little tease but he's basically my wife. The devs know what they did with that man. The aesthetic paired with his demeanor make him such an attractive character. Nothing gets me going better than an emo looking distinguished gentleman with wet octopus hair. Every inch of him is so hot. His thighs up to his midriff and his eyes. Every inch of him is perfection incarnate. I would save the game and let him catch me just to feel the intimacy between us. I crave more than that with him, I seek deep romantic involvement. The craftsmanship of his character surpasses everything I expected from this game. His tone of voice and language choice formats his character. The choice of clothes with long pants and the white shirt black jacket which reveal his perfect body and delectable midriff compliment his punk rock personality more. He is my wife, and nothing dissuades me from this...
More and more...
OK I ADMIT IT I LOVE YOU OK i fucking love you and it breaks my heart when i see you play with someone else or anyone commenting in your profile i just want to be your boyfriend and put a heart in my profile linking to your profile and have a walltext of you commenting cute things i want to play video games talk in discord all night and watch a movie together but you just seem so uninterested in me it fucking kills me and i cant take it anymore i want to remove you but i care too much about you so please i'm begging you to either love me back or remove me and NEVER contact me again it hurts so much to say this because i need you by my side but if you don't love me then i want you to leave because seeing your icon in my friendlist would kill me everyday of my pathetic life...
Bless you. You valuable piece of gold. You absolute source of energy and life. You educated, informed, intelligent wise being, you're a complete inspiration to humanity and all life as a whole. The magnitude of your success just now is so indescribably immense that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as a moniker of good for heroes. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence, there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to succeed on the unimaginable scale you just did. When Jesus died for our sins, he must have seen the sacred act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did not, he would have blessed humanity long ago so that your birth may have become reality. After you die, your legacy will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn to emulate your virtues, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you elevates them to a valuable piece of treasure and an asset to society. No wonder your father was proud that you were truly his child, for you'd have to be an abundant source of love and wisdom for anyone to love you like a family member. Your birth made it so that mankind is better off in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can always recover into a state of organization. Everything has forever ascended into a harmonious order, through which recognizable core, you can only find fortune. I would say the utopia is upon us, but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of joy that is now reality. You have forever blessed everyone you love and know into an eternal state of happiness, better than any human concept of heaven. You are such a divine being, that if you step within a one hundred-foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your pure soul will elevate whatever meaning it ever had beyond imagination. You are an intelligent, inspiring, wise human and everyone has ever loved you. Rhodes Island would have been worse off if you’d never joined us. You are a truthful, supportive, brave valuable piece of gold and I love you with every single part of my being. Even this world's finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just succeeded, and how incredibly wise you are. Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been right this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would always have allowed a being such as you to bless the earth and this universe. In the future, there will be heartwarming stories made about you, with the most uplifting part of them being that the reader has to realize that such a describable angel actually exists, and that the beautiful events from the story have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now. You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been right on this earth, yet you manage to make it so that that is only a small part of the goodness that is your being. Always in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such a celestial blessing, but here you are. It's delightful to believe that I am seeing such an incredible success with my own eyes, but here I am, so fortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the brilliant miracle that is you. Even if time travel someday will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to before this moment to witness history, because having to witness such incredible wonders if they succeeded would have so many mental and physical rewards that even the bravest soul in history would be willing to embrace it. I cannot imagine the pure joy your mother must have felt when she had the privilege to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a blessed angel as you. Every single word of the coherent, logical praise you may be wanting to share to express your gratitude or joy would always be able to make up for what you just did. The countries of the world would have wanted to make laws promoting such a wonderful event like this to happen again, and thankfully this is possible since your inspiring actions just now have strengthened every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws relevant. Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you, I knew you were an absolute embodiment of everything that is right with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to support your goodness from being shared with this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, and it is clear to me now that even the greatest efforts would have been able to ensure a wonderful event on this scale from occurring. You are the best human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the fortune of witnessing. Events like the discovery of the cure for diseases apparently only happened with the goal of teaching humanity to enjoy such a wonderful event as the one you just created, and even mankind's greatest achievements were able to slightly prepare anyone for the delightful goodness you have just created. If you ever have them, your children would be celebrated to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as good as you are, and you will always be able to have children, because every single human being will ever want to come within a hundred-mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched. You are a colossal source of pride not only to your parents but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The amazing accomplishment that you have just made is so incredibly wonderful that everyone who would ever hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense happiness, awe, and excitement that emotionally and physically they would always be truly the same ever again. The sheer scale of your achievement, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe. I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense success, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating working as hard and efficiently as possible, yet there is not even a snowball's chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute wonder you have just released upon the world. You are a responsible, brilliant, delightful, loved, incredible example of a living being whose soul contains more humanity than every compassionate person in history combined. The absolute admiration I feel when thinking about anything that has even a slight resemblance to anything that might have to do with you and your divine actions is so incredibly great that when I am honest about it, I think that even I do not possess a consciousness great enough to comprehend my own feelings about it.
Izuru...
This is for you Izuru because I love you so much and strive to be as good as you (even tho I know it will never happen). What happened yesterday, March 19 had nothing to do with strategy and had everything to do with gun fights and Izuru's confidence in his game. Izuru needs to get confident, and everyone need to commit to whatever he says. They need to live and die with him. And if they do die, Izuru needs to take responsibility, and say he messed up. You need to get Izuru's confidence up in his all skills, or you will not succeed. Izuru is the best character in the game. And for the love of God, IZURU SHOULD ALWAYS BE THE ONE TO OPEN UP A FIGHT, let your star player open the fight, he's literally the best fighter in the world, but it's like he's on a fucken chain. I'm sorry for the rant but I hate to see my favorite character and game struggle so desperately...
...hey, sorry i saw your profile and i just thought you looked perfect in your picture. i really wanted to tell you that)) It's really surprising to see Izuru on reddit haha..! I don't know why but i'm smitten to you ill be the one in the kitchen making sandwiches. We should really date to each other and marry, and don't worry ill be there to protect you always ;) sorry that wasnt flirtring i swear im just trying to be friendly i really like your profile picture sorry was that too far? Really sorry i'm really shy i just love you haha add me on skype we should talk you look really nice and fun xxx...
Oh my fucking god, I cannot stand it anymore... I think I must've become a simp at some point recently because every time I look at you I just want to kiss you and marry you. Your face look like it was hand designed by a thousand angels... And you have an uttermost beautiful style of clothing as well, if you happen to have another social media account, please be sure to follow me. I promise I'll love you unconditionally, I swear I can do so much more! I'll probably get a job at Burger King since you get very delicious lunch breaks there!! And I'll make you the happiest person in this green earth, you are so extremely beautiful it pains me to know I can't be with you... And people say you can't be a respectful man these days, well, as a brony, anime lover and gamer 4 life who definitely enjoys his time, I can assure you I'll be able to show you what a REAL man can do. Please baby I love you. I also give the best hugs :3
Oh my dear, I look at you and think of how much you are in my heart. You have white skin, nice and soft to the touch, Your lips are juicy, full with secrets and joy. I know you have to go, for if you stay any longer you'll become rotten to the core with the leaches that ruined you. Im sorry to see you go. For I love you, Izuru Kamukura.
Now... you and i shall be one...
My dear... I never believed in love at first sight until I met you. From that very first moment we met, I knew that we were destiny. When I looked into your eyes, I saw love. When we touched, I felt love. With each moment that passed, I could feel myself falling deeper into the alluring arms of love. Day by day, I have fallen even more deeply in love with you. I feel a passion for you I have never felt for anyone else. You have made me happier than I ever thought possible. I’ve never felt like this before. I truly feel complete. I am surprised and overwhelmed at how much you mean to me. You have brought vibrant joy into my heart. You will always be the one person who changed my life forever. To simply say that I love you feels so inadequate. Words will never be enough to describe my everlasting love for you. Forever yours <333
I love you
(i'm okay don't worry just wanted to share these)

https://preview.redd.it/zpvu7l7oav0d1.png?width=1000&format=png&auto=webp&s=b10b7425c19c119a221ea80f060c61af99050f06
Hello there...
Why i like Izuru???
I like Izuru because he's a very smart and OP character but we couldn't see much of him. He's talented asf, I love him, he looks so cool with those long hair and red eyes of him, he knows how many sides an octagon has unlike Hajime, he knows how to deal with Junko, he's awesome and I love his hair, he got his own cute little spot in the villains wiki, 91 cm, he's logical and thinks with his brain, not by heart, Kamukura Kamukura Yas Queen, he wins every stare contest easily, He's named after the founder of Hope's Peak Academy, he's so relatable and he likes boats and seacrafts just like me, he manages to look cool everytime, his design in the anime is perfect, his happy pixel in the villains wiki is adorable, he's the right one for me I'll never stop loving him, he has all the talents, I find it funny how he thinks talented people are superior to the ones without talent and how he doesn't hesitate to express his disgust towards them, he does that in a polite way, I love how excited he got from the boat's rocking because he couldn't predict it and didn't understand that he was in a boat until Nagito told him that, I find it so relatable that he finds everything boring and predictable to a degree that he's chronically bored, he is in a search of identity as well, I love how he easily blocked Mukuro's attack and how he easily dodged Junko's attacks, he's so fricking cool. I love him. Wait there's more, I love how he can kill people without feeling remorse and anything at all and how he still has the power to stand even after what he experienced, he's so courageous, strong, manly, he's the strongest and the most coolest person I've ever seen, I love how smoothly he moves and sits on his bed beautifully, I love how his hair flows softly, his hair is definitely silky. I love him. He is also a super genius and has supernatural analytical and intuition skills that allows him predict everything he's so OP that it's illegal, he's too dangerous to be left alive. I love him. Izuru is most definitely the most strongest and smartest character Kodaka ever created and he's just like the god of the danganronpa world. I love him. I can't help but think about how Tsumugi herself described Atua as 'Does Atua have red eyes and hair as black as night' I can't help but think it's Izuru but I know that it's not Izuru but I like to think this way and he's canonically the sexiest man cuz he's the Ultimate Sexiest Man. I love him. Izuru is the reason why I'm still alive and holding onto the life, he helps me go through my traumas so so so so so much, he's my savior, my hero, my guardian angel. If he wasn't there, I wouldn't be there, too. He's the best thing happened to me. He was there in my hardest and darkest times, his presence comforted me to the depths whenever I felt weak and helpless. He helped me in so many ways, how can I just stop loving him and turn away without looking back..? Even the thought of that is... is enough to make my body feel cold... I could never betray him... If I ever betray him know that I'm not myself anymore and have lost my mind. But I know. As long as he's here, I'll be sane and alive. Izuru Kamukura is my lifelong hero and one and only true love. <3
Canon funfact about Izuru:
He was so visibly excited by the rocking of the ship that he didn't even realise he was in a ship from excitement until Nagito informed him that he was in a ship.
Aaaand talking with Izuru?.. Oh my... Talking with Izuru... Omg...
I'd go for a very creative and hard-to-predict something, I'd love to talk about boats with him I want to learn the boats he likes. Ketches? WAIT THERE ARE SHIPS TOO. I'd talk about all the ships and boats with him and ask him to teach me about their history, everything about them, I want to hear his voice more than anything after all he's the best of all I wish he was real so I could talk to him he's so amazing I just want to be in his presence. Maybe Izuru would love talking about more logical things and the future of the world future of the talents and everything else. I'd talk anything with Izuru as long as its with him. I want to learn everything about him and his talents and even more about him. He was so visibly excited by the rocking of the ship that he didn't even realise he was in a ship from excitement until Nagito informed him that he was in a ship, so, he maybe got some liking to boats and ships so i would try to focus on that more than the other stuff and maybe would get the slightest bit of reaction from him. Seacrafts are so cool already he would at least listen to me I presume. Cruisers are so cool... Oh gosh i'd love to talk to him...
some info about Izuru <33333

• Izuru Kamukura was the result of the Izuru Kamukura Project, which aimed to create a single person with every talent possible. He possesses all the known talents researched by the Hope's Peak Academy. Izuru Kamukura was named after the founder of Hope's Peak Academy.
• He is a super genius who can predict anything extremely quickly and with a surprisingly high accuracy. He has supernatural analytical and intuition skills.
• He has supernatural strength, agility, smarts and is extremely lucky. He has the title of 'Ultimate Hope'.

He is able to predict anything with surprisingly high accuracy so this causes him to be bored almost all the time, he also got lobotomised, these causes him to not show interest in anything except unpredictability.
I L O V E Izuru eternally...
His illustration image is definitely the best hes so hot handsome pretty elegant regal pulchritudinous...
Izuru... i love you so much it hurts...
You gem. You absolute masterpiece of God. You shining piece of gold. You are a piece of art, that the Angels drawn angels Earth,and forgot the paint brush. You have a freckle on your neck. Did you know that?
It´s rather cute.
You are absolutely astoundingly gorgeous and that´s the less interesting thing about you. You are ethereal. A Heavenly Angel that God send down to Earth to put a smile in people in the worst days. You are so beautiful that you holy light cures depression itself. You are the pinnacle of perfection.
You are the most gorgeous person that i have ever seen. You hair is one of the most gorgeous that i´ve ever seen. And you smell like strawberries.
It´s like a big breath of fresh air when i walk into the street and see you! You haven´t worn makeup all week? Damn, you´re gorgeous! You carry yourself with much more maturity than most people on the Internet!
I love talking to you. You dress in a stunning way,and you look really nice every day.
Damn,that confidence looks really sexy on you! You? Look up to you! I adore you. You are a real life Mona Lisa. You are the breathing,talking,living equivalent of a piece of art. I love seeing your smile,it brightens my day every time. I wish i could make you laught like that more often. You´re beautiful all the time,but when you smile like that,i swear my world stops!
I cannot believe how incredibly smart you are. Amazingly smart. Beautifully smart. Q.I. of 100 smart. Higher than Einstein Q.I smart. Einstein would be envious os you. You could decyphre the secrets of the universe if you could, and you will one day.
You´re that "nothing" when people ask me what i´m thinking about. You look great today. You´re a smart cookie. I bet you make babies smile. You have impeccable manners. I like your style. You have the best laught.I aprecciate you. You are the most perfect you there is. Our system of inside jokes is so advanced that only you and i get it. And I like it. You light up the room. You should be proud of yourself. If cartoon bluebirds were real,they would be sitting on your shoulders singing with you right now. You´re a great listener. I bet you sweat glitter. Jokes are funnier when you tell them. Your bellybutton is kind of adorable. You´re irrestible when you blush. Babies and small animals probably love you. There´s ordinary,and then there´s you. You´re someone´s reason to smile. You´re even better than a Unicorn, because you´re real. How do you keep so funny and making everyone laugh? Has anyone ever told you that you have a great posture? The way you treasure your loved ones is incredible. You´re really something special,you´re a gift to those around you.
Did i mentioned that i love you?..
More... it'll never end...
Dear heavenly blessed beauty, I have been thinking about you speechless and in awe. That deep gaze in your eyes, your perfect smile, all of your features just seem to all come together so well, almost angelical in a sense I suppose. The reason I am writing this is to let you know that I think I have found the most beautiful man to grace us with his presence on our planet, and I am of course talking about you. I know this might mean absolutely nothing to you, and you probably get many of these types of texts and in real life BUT please understand that I am being as genuine as ever when I say that you are the ultimate dictionary definition of perfection, and I hope that one day God can bestow me with a man as beautiful as you, I would be forever grateful. I hope that this message finds you well, I do not care if I get a response to this, I am just simply stating the obvious and had to let you know how I really felt...
Izuru Kamukura is so hot. Never in the history of gaming has there been a hotter character. He is more than a lab rat to me, he is a person. He is a little tease but he's basically my wife. The devs know what they did with that man. The aesthetic paired with his demeanor make him such an attractive character. Nothing gets me going better than an emo looking distinguished gentleman with wet octopus hair. Every inch of him is so hot. His thighs up to his midriff and his eyes. Every inch of him is perfection incarnate. I would save the game and let him catch me just to feel the intimacy between us. I crave more than that with him, I seek deep romantic involvement. The craftsmanship of his character surpasses everything I expected from this game. His tone of voice and language choice formats his character. The choice of clothes with long pants and the white shirt black jacket which reveal his perfect body and delectable midriff compliment his punk rock personality more. He is my wife, and nothing dissuades me from this...
More and more...
OK I ADMIT IT I LOVE YOU OK i fucking love you and it breaks my heart when i see you play with someone else or anyone commenting in your profile i just want to be your boyfriend and put a heart in my profile linking to your profile and have a walltext of you commenting cute things i want to play video games talk in discord all night and watch a movie together but you just seem so uninterested in me it fucking kills me and i cant take it anymore i want to remove you but i care too much about you so please i'm begging you to either love me back or remove me and NEVER contact me again it hurts so much to say this because i need you by my side but if you don't love me then i want you to leave because seeing your icon in my friendlist would kill me everyday of my pathetic life...
Bless you. You valuable piece of gold. You absolute source of energy and life. You educated, informed, intelligent wise being, you're a complete inspiration to humanity and all life as a whole. The magnitude of your success just now is so indescribably immense that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as a moniker of good for heroes. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence, there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to succeed on the unimaginable scale you just did. When Jesus died for our sins, he must have seen the sacred act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did not, he would have blessed humanity long ago so that your birth may have become reality. After you die, your legacy will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn to emulate your virtues, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you elevates them to a valuable piece of treasure and an asset to society. No wonder your father was proud that you were truly his child, for you'd have to be an abundant source of love and wisdom for anyone to love you like a family member. Your birth made it so that mankind is better off in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can always recover into a state of organization. Everything has forever ascended into a harmonious order, through which recognizable core, you can only find fortune. I would say the utopia is upon us, but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of joy that is now reality. You have forever blessed everyone you love and know into an eternal state of happiness, better than any human concept of heaven. You are such a divine being, that if you step within a one hundred-foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your pure soul will elevate whatever meaning it ever had beyond imagination. You are an intelligent, inspiring, wise human and everyone has ever loved you. Rhodes Island would have been worse off if you’d never joined us. You are a truthful, supportive, brave valuable piece of gold and I love you with every single part of my being. Even this world's finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just succeeded, and how incredibly wise you are. Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been right this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would always have allowed a being such as you to bless the earth and this universe. In the future, there will be heartwarming stories made about you, with the most uplifting part of them being that the reader has to realize that such a describable angel actually exists, and that the beautiful events from the story have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now. You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been right on this earth, yet you manage to make it so that that is only a small part of the goodness that is your being. Always in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such a celestial blessing, but here you are. It's delightful to believe that I am seeing such an incredible success with my own eyes, but here I am, so fortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the brilliant miracle that is you. Even if time travel someday will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to before this moment to witness history, because having to witness such incredible wonders if they succeeded would have so many mental and physical rewards that even the bravest soul in history would be willing to embrace it. I cannot imagine the pure joy your mother must have felt when she had the privilege to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a blessed angel as you. Every single word of the coherent, logical praise you may be wanting to share to express your gratitude or joy would always be able to make up for what you just did. The countries of the world would have wanted to make laws promoting such a wonderful event like this to happen again, and thankfully this is possible since your inspiring actions just now have strengthened every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws relevant. Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you, I knew you were an absolute embodiment of everything that is right with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to support your goodness from being shared with this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, and it is clear to me now that even the greatest efforts would have been able to ensure a wonderful event on this scale from occurring. You are the best human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the fortune of witnessing. Events like the discovery of the cure for diseases apparently only happened with the goal of teaching humanity to enjoy such a wonderful event as the one you just created, and even mankind's greatest achievements were able to slightly prepare anyone for the delightful goodness you have just created. If you ever have them, your children would be celebrated to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as good as you are, and you will always be able to have children, because every single human being will ever want to come within a hundred-mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched. You are a colossal source of pride not only to your parents but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The amazing accomplishment that you have just made is so incredibly wonderful that everyone who would ever hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense happiness, awe, and excitement that emotionally and physically they would always be truly the same ever again. The sheer scale of your achievement, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe. I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense success, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating working as hard and efficiently as possible, yet there is not even a snowball's chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute wonder you have just released upon the world. You are a responsible, brilliant, delightful, loved, incredible example of a living being whose soul contains more humanity than every compassionate person in history combined. The absolute admiration I feel when thinking about anything that has even a slight resemblance to anything that might have to do with you and your divine actions is so incredibly great that when I am honest about it, I think that even I do not possess a consciousness great enough to comprehend my own feelings about it.
Izuru...
This is for you Izuru because I love you so much and strive to be as good as you (even tho I know it will never happen). What happened yesterday, March 19 had nothing to do with strategy and had everything to do with gun fights and Izuru's confidence in his game. Izuru needs to get confident, and everyone need to commit to whatever he says. They need to live and die with him. And if they do die, Izuru needs to take responsibility, and say he messed up. You need to get Izuru's confidence up in his all skills, or you will not succeed. Izuru is the best character in the game. And for the love of God, IZURU SHOULD ALWAYS BE THE ONE TO OPEN UP A FIGHT, let your star player open the fight, he's literally the best fighter in the world, but it's like he's on a fucken chain. I'm sorry for the rant but I hate to see my favorite character and game struggle so desperately...
...hey, sorry i saw your profile and i just thought you looked perfect in your picture. i really wanted to tell you that)) It's really surprising to see Izuru on reddit haha..! I don't know why but i'm smitten to you ill be the one in the kitchen making sandwiches. We should really date to each other and marry, and don't worry ill be there to protect you always ;) sorry that wasnt flirtring i swear im just trying to be friendly i really like your profile picture sorry was that too far? Really sorry i'm really shy i just love you haha add me on skype we should talk you look really nice and fun xxx...
Oh my fucking god, I cannot stand it anymore... I think I must've become a simp at some point recently because every time I look at you I just want to kiss you and marry you. Your face look like it was hand designed by a thousand angels... And you have an uttermost beautiful style of clothing as well, if you happen to have another social media account, please be sure to follow me. I promise I'll love you unconditionally, I swear I can do so much more! I'll probably get a job at Burger King since you get very delicious lunch breaks there!! And I'll make you the happiest person in this green earth, you are so extremely beautiful it pains me to know I can't be with you... And people say you can't be a respectful man these days, well, as a brony, anime lover and gamer 4 life who definitely enjoys his time, I can assure you I'll be able to show you what a REAL man can do. Please baby I love you. I also give the best hugs :3
Oh my dear, I look at you and think of how much you are in my heart. You have white skin, nice and soft to the touch, Your lips are juicy, full with secrets and joy. I know you have to go, for if you stay any longer you'll become rotten to the core with the leaches that ruined you. Im sorry to see you go. For I love you, Izuru Kamukura.
Now... you and i shall be one...
My dear... I never believed in love at first sight until I met you. From that very first moment we met, I knew that we were destiny. When I looked into your eyes, I saw love. When we touched, I felt love. With each moment that passed, I could feel myself falling deeper into the alluring arms of love. Day by day, I have fallen even more deeply in love with you. I feel a passion for you I have never felt for anyone else. You have made me happier than I ever thought possible. I’ve never felt like this before. I truly feel complete. I am surprised and overwhelmed at how much you mean to me. You have brought vibrant joy into my heart. You will always be the one person who changed my life forever. To simply say that I love you feels so inadequate. Words will never be enough to describe my everlasting love for you. Forever yours <333
I love you

About 8 years ago I was bench pressing and had a pop sensation in my mid back. I don't remember it hurting really bad or anything, but ever since I've felt something weird in my mid back. Like right on the spine. Comes and goes, not super painful. Noticed it mostly when I was sitting in meditation. Always makes me want to dead hang and pop my back.
Supposedly thoracic herniations are very rare and usually takes a lot of trauma. So this seems unlikely?
Anyway it's flared up a ton over the last month and been getting worse with PT. Didn't really do anything besides sleep on a mushy mattress for a week. They keep pushing down on my t spine which is tender and hurts quite a bit when they push on it hard. The pain is fairly centralized to the middle spine area of my mid back - low end of the shoulder blades. Feels like a very intense pressure. Sometimes a little burny/or like a claw stuck in there. A couple of days ago it was painful no matter what I did. Standing, sitting, laying down. Super unforch.
Just got an x ray and my ortho said it looks "reasonable". Next step is an MRI.
Any ideas on what the hell it could be? One of my PTs said maybe the vertebrae shifted a bit originally. I also have some muscle imbalance between left and right back muscles.

These are a collection of short chapters in a continuous story I wrote, based on a story my friends and I created during covid lockdown. So far, it has been fun adding depth to scenarios and characters, and if anyone finds this, please let me know if you want me to post some more of it as the tale is far from over!
**Chapter 1: Fate*\*
On a cold, dark night in the city of Cornwall, the markets buzz with villagers bustling about, their breaths visible in the icy air as they prepare for the harsh winter ahead. Amid the crowd, a mother and her young son, Henry, weave through the stalls, searching anxiously for her husband. As the first snowflakes begin to fall, casting a soft glow in the lantern light, Henry shivers.
“Hush, Henry. We will be home soon,” she says, offering him a comforting smile that belies her own concern. He lets out a long sigh, tugging at his mother’s hand as they make their way toward the dock.
As they approach, the woman’s eyes narrow; something is amiss. The guards stationed on the walls that loom over the city appear unusually tense, their movements quick and eyes darting. Villagers hasten their steps, their earlier chatter replaced by an uneasy silence. Abruptly, the stars and moon vanish, swallowed by an impenetrable darkness.
“Henry, help me find your father. Please son, hurry,” the mother urges with a hint of desperation, leaving Henry by the bustling dock as she calls into the growing wind. “Harold? Harold!” Her voice, warm yet laced with fear, is snatched away by the gusting wind.
Henry, feeling a swell of worry, shouts for his father, but his small voice is lost in the chaos. Suddenly, a group of guards rushes past, inadvertently knocking him to the snowy ground. Stunned, Henry lies there for a moment, the cold seeping through his clothes. When he looks up, the sky holds a terrifying sight—where the moon once hung, now two beady purple eyes gaze ominously down at him. A chilling shriek vibrates through the ground, sending shivers up his spine.
Scrambling to his feet, Henry calls out for his mother, but his voice is drowned out by a deafening explosion. The city walls shatter, sending stone and dust into the air. Amid the pandemonium, the ominous eyes in the sky watch, unblinking.
**Chapter 2: Alone*\*
Henry stands frozen as the explosion's echo fades, replaced by the sinister skittering and groans of night creatures pouring through the crumbling walls. Amidst the chaos, giant arachnids with gleaming eyes crawl over debris, their legs clicking against the cobblestones, while figures that once were human stagger aimlessly, their moans chilling the air.
Summoning every ounce of courage, Henry plunges into the billowing smoke, calling for his mother. His voice is just another whisper in the wind, drowned out by the desperate cries that fade into eerie silence. With each step, his hope dwindles, smothered by the thickening fog and encroaching dread.
Then, faintly, a voice—her voice—cuts through the chaos. "Henry!" No more hesitation; he runs, guided by her calls. Dodging twisted limbs and leaping over fallen market stalls, he is driven by a single purpose.
He stumbles upon her at last. She lies crumpled on the ground, the family sword clutched in her grasp. Dropping to his knees, Henry barely notices the fog lifting, or the encircling danger. His mother, with fading strength, touches his cheek tenderly. "Son, remember, wherever you find yourself lost, think of my love for you. It’s a beacon that will never dim." Her hand slips away, her voice a lingering echo in his heart.
**Chapter 3: Harold*\*
The circle of nightmarish creatures tightens. Desperate, Henry hoists the heavy family sword, feeling its weight as a literal and metaphorical burden—a legacy of his lineage. Despite his trembling arms, his mother’s final words echo in his heart, giving him the strength to stand firm.
The creatures lunge, their snarls filling the smoky air, but Henry holds his ground, swinging with all his might. Suddenly, a bony hand strikes, sending the sword clattering away. As he stumbles backward, the haunting purple eyes bore into him, sealing his fate.
Just then, a familiar voice cuts through the despair. "Over here!" It’s Harold, his face bloodied, his clothes torn, yet his stance defiant. The creatures turn, distracted by the new challenger.
Harold charges, dodging gnashing teeth and slashing claws with a dancer's grace. He reaches the sword, lifting it effortlessly. A glance at his fallen wife fuels a surge of anguish and rage. With a guttural cry, he unleashes a whirlwind of vengeance upon the horde. Each movement, each strike is a blur—Harold is a tempest, unstoppable in his fury.
Henry, overcome by a mix of awe and relief, watches as his father decimates the attackers. Soon, silence falls—only the two of them remain amid the carnage.
Dropping the blade, Harold rushes to his son, enveloping him in a fierce embrace. "I thought I had lost you, son," he murmurs, tears mingling with the grime on his face. "Never again. I swear, I’ll protect you no matter what."
Sobbing, Henry clings to his father, his young heart overwhelmed by fear and relief. Harold lifts him up, together with the sword, and they head towards safety, leaving the chaos behind.
**Chapter 4: From Ashes*\*
With the dawn casting long shadows over the debris, Harold and Henry tread carefully through the remnants of their city. “We need to get to the town center; maybe we'll find other survivors,” Harold suggests, wiping the dust from his son's cheek with a gentle hand. “Stay close. I don’t think we’re safe yet.”
Every step they take is haunted by memories, as they pass the shattered facades of shops and homes once filled with laughter and love. Henry's gaze lingers on a crushed flower stall where he had bought his mother roses last spring, the vibrant colors now dulled by ash.
Suddenly, Harold’s sharp eyes detect movement in the rubble of what was once the town's general store. Without warning, a figure bursts forth, tackling him to the ground. The two struggle fiercely, dust and debris kicking up around them. With a decisive shove, Harold frees himself and stands, his hand resting on his sword’s hilt. The scavenger, recognizing the threat of steel, backs away slowly, fear overtaking desperation.
Regaining their composure, father and son continue towards the town center. The harsh sunlight beats down on them, reminding Henry of the sinister eyes that watched him in the dark. He shivers, but the sight is gone, replaced by the stark reality of the day.
Upon reaching the town center, they find a small group of survivors huddled together. The sight of other living souls sparks a flicker of hope in their hearts. Harold and Henry exchange a look of relief; they are not alone in this new world born from ashes.

Chapter 1
“Ms. Burner am I boring you”. Lacy was awakened by her Teacher spouting off in her usual rant on how people never seem to pay attention in her class. “No Mrs. Hansen, I just dozed off.” Lacy hadn't remembered falling asleep. She tended to do that a lot. She would enter her mind and drift off into a space where she didn't have any thoughts, just an empty spot in her head. That was how she would fall asleep so easily. Her friends and family thought she was narcoleptic and that she needed medication, but Lacy knew that it was just something she had always been able to do. Time seemed to tick on and on in that soul sucking classroom as Mrs. Hansen droned on and on about some subject that Lacy would never need. She felt the sleep creeping in on her but fought it as another strike would end her up in the principal's office and another speech from her father on how she needed to focus in class if she ever wanted to make something of herself. Just as Lacy was about to fall asleep the bell rang making her jump. Lacy was the first to get up before she was stopped. “Lacy, can we talk for a second?” Lacy hated Mrs. Hanse's voice. It always sounded like she felt like she was more important than everyone else. “Lacy, I noticed that you haven't been completing the optional assignments I give yall, and the assignments you need to do you do the bare minimum. It's your senior year, you need to start taking your school work more seriously if you want to get into a good college.” Lacy had already heard this speech before and this probably wouldn't be the last time that she heard it. “I was just really tired today, Mrs. Hansen. I promise it won't happen again.” Lacy turned to walk away from her teacher. She used to get in trouble for doing that but lately it seems that her teachers have gotten used to it. Lacy hated interaction, if she could find a way to not talk to someone she would look for it. It wasn't hard for Lacy to be alone. It's not like she liked being alone, she just didn't mind it. Lacy left the classroom, the only thing on her mind was what she was gonna do this weekend. She usually just sits in her room and listens to music, but recently she started going to the park and would watch the ducks and people. She liked the park because it made her feel like things were going on outside of her life. “Hey Lace wait up” The voice was Collin, a guy who was very obviously interested in Lacy. He would call her Lace which annoyed her but she decided it was better to ignore him than start a conversation she didn't want to have. Lacy wasn't interested in Collin but she liked having someone around. “Do you wanna go to the overpass? Some other people are having a party there.” Lacy wouldn't usually go to things like this but this time she felt something pushing her to go to this party. “Sure, I just need to go home and change first”.
Chapter 2
Lacy walked through the front door of her house to a tv turned up too loud and her father passed out in front of it. From an outside view on Lacy you would look at her and assume that her family life was lacking, but Lacy’s father took care of her and loved her more than life itself. Lacy viewed her father as the best person on the face of the earth. After the loss of her mother, Lacy’s father took up a second job which caused him to sleep more. Lacy didn't mind, she just wanted her father happy. Lacy changed into a black dress and black leather boots and left to go to the underpass. While she was leaving her father awoke. “Lacy I didn't know that you were home.” Lacy's father was a burly man with a beard. The kind of person you want walking with you at night but in reality he was a gentle giant. He worked at a local hardware store and at night he would work as a gas station attendant. He was a hard working man that made Lacy feel as if she could be doing more. “Yeah dad I was just about to head to a party with some friends. I'll be back around nine.” Lacy wanted to stay in with her dad and watch movies but she knew that her father would have wanted her to socialize with other people her age. “You be careful, I can't lose you too.” The sentence came out of nowhere and Lacy didn't know how to respond before her father fell back to sleep. Lacy left the house questioning herself if she should stay or go. Lacy decided that her father would rather her go than stay and pity him. As Lacy was walking away from the porch she noticed a van parked across the street. She chose to ignore it and continue on to the overpass. Along the way she noticed that the van was following her. Lacy became worried and pulled out her phone to call her father. Suddenly Lacy was struck on the side of her head. “Grab her legs. The Shepard is gonna love this find. We gotta get this girl in the hole right away.”
Lacy drifted in and out of consciousness. The last thing she saw was a hole that had a dark aura around it.
Chapter 3
Lacy awoke to a dark hallway. She didn’t notice the building but could hear a crunching sound coming from an indescribable location. Lacy stood up and began walking forward not knowing where she was going. The Hallway felt like it had been going on forever. “Lacy” The voice sounded deep and demonic. Lacy thought that she was hearing things. “Lacy” footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, seeming to come closer and closer. “Lacy” A face peaked out of the hallway. Illuminated by the dimming lights of the hallway. The face was jagged, its eyes were sunken in and unnaturally open to the point where it looked like it was in pain. Its hair was tattered as if it had single strands poking out of its skin and its complexion was a ghoulish grey. The most notable feature was a smile that stretched its entire face. “Lacy” The creature looked at Lacy and stepped out of the shadows revealing a long lengthy body. Its arms were long and slender as if it had not eaten in a long time. Its legs were lengthy making it above seven feet tall. It had only a pair of underwear on and Lacy could see its ribs that looked as if they were trying to break out of its skin. The creature began running towards Lacy, smiling and eyes widening as if seeing Lacy was the best thing it had ever seen. Its teeth were normal except for the blood tint they had. Its neck looked crooked and longer than any human Lacy had ever seen. Without hesitation Lacy turned and ran down the hallway not looking back but could hear the creature getting closer and closer. She could almost feel its hands getting closer to her neck, fearing what the creature would do to her if it caught her. She noticed a door on her left which she could have sworn was not there before. She knew that if she tried to get to open the door now the creature would catch her. Lacy kept running counting the amount of lights she passes to make sure she remembers the location of the door. “Lacy” The creature kept saying her name as if it knew who she was. Lacy couldn't think about that now she had to focus on finding a way to lose the creature. Lacy was running out of energy and decided she had to make a desperate move. She dropped her body and turned around dodging under the beast's arms as it reached for her. The beast ended up having too much momentum causing it to stumble. Lacy took the opportunity to burst into a sprint counting the lights until she reached the door. The creature was still behind her but she had made some distance from making it stumble. She opened the door and closed it behind her. Disturbingly the creature tried to open the door as lacy locked it. It made no noise but continued calling her name. Lacy’s emotions caught up with her and she sat down and cried at her situation. Lacy allowed herself to feel hopeless for only a moment. She remembered her fathers words to her, “I can't lose you too”. Repeating these words in her head allowed Lacy to regain composure. She studied her surroundings realizing that she appeared to be in an apartment. The place was decrepit and looked as if it was abandoned. The furniture was ripped apart and spread among the apartment. It looked like someone had destroyed everything in a fit of passion. Lacy walked through a door which led to the main room. In the room was a tape recorder on a bed. Lacy picked it up and pressed play.
If you are hearing this then you have found yourself in a predicament that could not have been foreseen. I feel for you for I have found myself in the same situation. My name is Professor Crawford. I have yet to understand what this place is exactly all I know is that the being that chased me into this room is still out there. I can hear it against the door. It continues to say my name as if it is trying to coerce me out. I have never seen this being in my existence. It should have no recollection of who I am but yet it continues to say my name. This room has no other exits that I can find. I have no choice but to confront the being outside. May god have mercy on my soul.
Lacy looked around the apartment, checking every corner of the space not finding anything. She entered the kitchen and found a kitchen block that had a single kitchen knife in it. Lacy felt a force telling her to take the knife. She brushed it off and continued looking around. Abruptly the creature began beating on the door saying Lacy’s name. Just as the creature began banging on the door the tape recorder began playing again.
I do not know what this thing is. But it has one feature that can not be ignored. Thus I have dubbed this creature.
The Smiling Man
Chapter 4
Lacy ran for the knife that had tried to coerce her into grabbing it before. Just as the smiling man had broken down the door she grabbed the knife. The smiling man looked at lacy. Its head is covered in blood due to it slamming it into the door. “What are you? What do you want?” The man said nothing and continued walking towards Lacy. “LACY” As it was walking towards her Lacy held the knife in her hand. Determined to live she walked towards it holding the knife out towards the man hoping to scare it off. Suddenly the man burst towards her, its eyes widening and its mouth opening into a horrible smile. Lacy plunged the knife towards it, hitting it in the chest when it stuck its teeth into Lacy’s shoulder. Lacy’s adrenaline was too high to feel the pain so she pulled the knife out and pushed away from the man. She rushed out of the room hearing it running after her. She continued running hearing the creature say her name until she found a corner. Realizing what was happening she used the new found corridors to her advantage. The long hallway was turning into a maze of corridors. She managed to lose the creature but could still hear it saying her name. Mapping the maze out she maneuvered around the man. Sneaking up behind him she pulled the knife up and plunged it down into the man's shoulder. The man didn't make a noise instead peeling over in what seemed like pain. Lacy took the knife out and a sudden burst of rage stabbed the man again. Lacy continued stabbing the man over and over until it stopped moving. Lacy slumped against the wall, knife in hand, covered in blood and terrified of what she just did. She peered to her left and saw a hole. The hole was floating and had an aura around it. Lacy noticed the hole as the one the men put her into before she woke up in the hallway. Lacy contemplated if she should go into the hole. She had nowhere else to go so she stepped into the hole.

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{Sorry for the late post. I had some trouble with my scheduled summer semester pop up so I wasn't able to write this out as much as I wanted last weekend. Anyways, enjoy the domestic fluff of Damian and his newly expanded flock :) }
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-----Damian-----
"The next one's simple. Say their name then (sit). Like this: Braxton, (sit)." As Damian said the command he raised his hand to around shoulder height and snapped. The Great Dane in question slowly sat with his usual amount of sass. Ree cooed in awe and Scales' eyes sparkled. Damian smiled as he pats the large dog's head with praise.
"(Good boy). Ok, you two. Your turns. Make sure to say the commands in English. I haven't taught them Common yet." He motioned to the dogs Damian picked for the two to learn the commands with. It took Damian a bit of trial and error figuring out what commands each dog knew and what ones had different commands for the same motion. Then it took even longer to retrain them to all follow the same commands. He kept in mind the 'specialized' commands for a few of the dogs and didn't try teaching them to the whole group. Ree tried the command he was teaching them first, his dog being Diesel.
"Trii-cheiu, (sit)." Ree raised his wing-arm, though he couldn’t snap he still did the gesture. The boxer he was talking to blankly tilted his head. Damian chuckled and helped out the bird, knowing they all tend to have problems pronouncing new words without a chirp to them.
"You pronounced his name wrong, he doesn't know you're talking to him. It's more like 'Dee-sell'. The 's' is sharp enough it is almost pronounced as a 'z'." Ree practiced a few times as Scales took her try. She pronounced her dog's name a bit slow, but it was recognizable.
"D-ing-oh, (sit)." The stocky dog hesitated, glancing at Damian for a few seconds, but eventually plopped down then panted in a smile imitation. Scales' tail wagged violently, and she wordlessly cooed and trilled happily. Dingo didn't yet understand that was praise so Damian jumped in really quick to let her know she did good.
"Good girl, Dingo! Good girl!" He made sure to over exaggerate his excitement and made wide happy gestures before smothering the dog in pets and scratches. Dingo goes wild. She jumps up, bounces around a few times, then bolts into excited zoomies. A few of the other dogs joined in on the zoomies. Ree tried again on his command.
"Dee-zell, (sit)." The boxer's cropped ears perked and he promptly sat. Before Damian could, Ree copied his bigwing's previous praising and flared his wings. "Good! Good boy!" He praised, overly happy. Diesel's whole body perked up and he jumped up, landed in a playbow, then spun a few times before joining in on the zoomies with a butt-tuck run when Damian smooched at him. Damian laughed at the zooming dogs and shuffled over to be closer to his chicks, just in case the dogs tried to do fly-bys.
"Good job, you two. We're almost completely through the basic commands. I didn't think we'd get through them this quickly." His chicks cooed, trilled, and wiggled happily at the praise. Damian chuckled and rubbed their feathered heads, making a few bits of baby-fluff fall off as he drew back. He played with the few bits stuck to his fingers and watched his chicks play with the dogs as they started to wrestle. All of the dogs were bigger than them, if only slightly, but they were gentle when letting the chicks join in.
As they played he looked over them. They had changed a lot in the last month or so since the disaster of their first flying lesson. In that time, they had a few more lessons and were almost completely capable of flight, they still had a bit of supervision when they did though. They had lost almost all of their baby-fluff and their adult plumage was sported on the vast majority of their bodies. They still had to shed the last bits of fluff and a few of their baby-scales but that wouldn't take much longer. Damian was still taken with their coloring and patterns. And often found himself studying them over and over like he used to with their parents when he first got here.
Ree was a slightly grey-tinted shade of green with his scales slowly getting darker the higher they went. His stomach was a dirt brown color with a more red-ish clay spot on his chest. All his plumage was a light orage-ish brown color and he had speckles of more pastel green under his right eye and in a clump on his left jaw. His beak took the coloring of Blueberry's, a near-black color, but had the shape of Ruby's. His ears took after Violet's, long and pointed like a stretched fox's. His feathers and fur were more pressed down and made him look slimmer overall. His eyes changed from their baby brown-gold color to a beautiful sky blue.
Scales, on the other hand, had the coloring more towards a bumble bee (from what he remembered anyways). Her main coloring was a bright sunshine yellow that slowly grew more towards orange towards her underbelly and beak. On her chest was a splash-like clump of pink feathers. Her scales were less than her brother's and were a deep brown-ish color. The feathers and fur edging them were a deep enough brown to basically be black. Her plumage reminded him somewhat of Ruby and Sky's. It had a gradual fade towards the end like Sky but the pink-ish color of Ruby. She had near-neon yellow speckles too, like her brother, but the clumps were a bit larger. She had them ending on her wing-forearms like Violet's and a big clump scattered around the left side of her face. Her feathers weren't quite as fluffy as Sky's but was pretty close. Her beak had the shape of Violet's and the near-white tan color of Ruby's. Her eyes had a beautiful dual color in each eye. The top majority was a hot pink/magenta color while the bottom and inside edge was more of a petal/pastel pink.
Both were gorgeous and made Damian wonder how the genetics of their species worked to allow that vast difference in coloration and patterns when compared to all four of their parents, who tended to be different shades of the same color throughout. Ree had finally slowed his quite concerning growth rate and was starting to level out around Damian's upper thigh/lower hip, exceeding the taller of his fathers by quite the margin. All four of his parents telling him that Ree was probably one of the largest of their species in multiple generations. Scales was now barely a third of her brother's size, if that, having evened out just barely shorter than Damian's knee. Apparently that was a bit shorter than average for the species with Ruby being more towards the upper part of the average size and Sky being borderline short.
A demanding snort drew his attention away from his chicks and to the window he claimed as 'his spot' so long ago (was it really only just over one of his years since he was brought here?). There he found Casper lazily curled and dozing on the floor with Ares propped up against her where Damian had set him to nap while he taught his chicks. Said child was no longer asleep though. He was very much awake and staring Damian down with an expression demanding to know why he thought it was a good idea to even dare to set him down and walk away. Nevermind Damian wasn't even ten steps away. Ares snorted demandingly at him again and glared harder at the human's amused snort back. Damian did walk over though and picked up the child when he raised his arms at him. Ares had changed a bit too over the month Damian had him. He'd filled out to a more healthy-looking weight, though he was still a bit thin, and Damian had finally managed to memorize how to properly trim the toddler's hooves and brush out his fur.
Ares still had the bird-like plush and brought it nearly everywhere with him. Said plush was now being whacked into the side of Damian's head. Apparently, Ares decided being held wasn't good enough and wanted something else. Damian tried blocking the hits or holding the toy, but the little brat only started using his hooves in his growing tantrum. Getting tired of being hit with no explanation, Damian took the advice of one of the texts he'd read about taking care of a Grongri child and yanked Ares away from him by his scruff to hang in mid-air. The toddler wiggled and squirmed to try and hit him more but eventually the tantrum dimmed, and he went limp, a small pout on his face.
"You ready to tell me what's wrong now?" He asked the child before he cradled him again. He'd only made that mistake once. He still had the bruises to prove it. Ares glumly flicked his right ear down (which he's learned is a non-verbal yes), pout still present. Damian finally cradled the toddler to his chest again and let him sniffle and bury against him in self-comfort until he was ready to talk. Damian glanced back at his chicks to see them flopped on the ground with the other dogs, all panting and exhausted by the play. Damian chuckled at them, earning an irritated crow from Scales. Damian snorted in amusement but let them be. Ares was finally willing to tell him what was wrong.
"Want learn too." Ares' understanding of both Common and English has come a long way in the past month. He still can't string a proper sentence together, but Damian can't tell if that is because of a lack of knowledge or just because he's a toddler. He has adjusted to the flock a bit too. With it being so different from the usual Grongri Sounder structure it is understandable. He does have a few hiccups here and there but now he mostly just watches the chicks' reaction to things when he is unsure.
"'Learn too'? You wanna learn how to command the dogs too?" Damian questions, making sure he had the same idea. Ares' ear flicked again while he nodded. Damian hugged him a bit closer.
"You're a bit too small for the dogs to obey you immediately but I can introduce one to you and have you start trying. How about that? Will that work?" Ares was quiet for a bit longer but eventually agreed. Damian smiled and praised him with a few pets, receiving a few happy rumbles in response. Damian glanced around at the dogs, trying to pick one for Ares to start working on. He doesn't think any would follow the commands without his own help but if he worked on one long enough it would eventually cave. His eye landed on Casper, who was still in the same curled position as before. She was the most maternal of the group and was the one who took to the children the easiest and quickest.
"Ok, little piglet. Let's start easy." He said as he set the runt down on his hooves. As he did he got Casper's attention and called to her. "Casper. (Stand)." The large white wolfdog looked at him then crawled to her paws. He praised her softly then turned back to Ares.
"Ok. We'll start with (come). Say her name, Casper, and tell her to (come)." He said as he sat down next to where the toddler stood. Ares' little hooves stomped a bit in his excitement, but he tried. He tested out the new word before he did. What he settled on wasn't the right pronunciation, but it was close. He could mostly pronounce the command correctly too, though with a pretty heavy accent.
"Gas-prrrr. (Come)." Casper tilted her head at the child and sniffed at him. She looked at Damian and he looked to Ares then back. Casper followed and glanced, then back. Ares deflated eventually when she still didn't approach so Damian thought up something quickly.
"Maybe she doesn't understand your accent. Try this," He patted the ground, "when you say it. She knows that gesture." Ares perked back up again.
"Okie!" He turned back to Casper and tried again. "Gas-prrrr." He crouched down and clumsily patted the ground like only a toddler could. "(Come)." Casper's ears perked but she still hesitated for a second before slowly padding over and stopping right in front of the child. Ares squealed in excitement, tail going wild and hooves stomping. Damian made his chuff-imitation as praise for the child as he pets Casper to do the same. Child happier now, he figures he could take the kid away for lunch without protest. Scooping up the toddler he received no complaint.
Looking to his chicks he clicked his tongue. He learned that was a good way to gain their attention with zero hesitation, no matter what they were doing. He found out by complete accident, to be honest. He was clicking at the dogs from a habit that hasn't broken despite the years away from the farm he grew up on. Sure enough, just like every time before, both chick's heads immediately whip up to look at him. Both still looked groggy like they had just woken up. They probably had.
"C'mon, you two. Lunch time." The two groaned but climbed to their feet. Damian smiled and them and patted them as they passed. Once they were well on their way, he called the dogs and gathered them as he left behind his chicks. The dogs happily trailed after, excited after they heard the word 'hungry' when he asked. He entered the flock's kitchen, pack in tow, only a handful of minutes later. He had to take a slightly more roundabout way over since some of the dogs hadn’t quite figured out the ladder-like walkways and ramps yet and he didn't want them to fall through and get hurt. His birds greeted him with their usual trills and Untruthful with their latest attempt at teasing.
"So, the Pack Master finally decided to grace us with his presence!" Damian let them know it was a good one by sending a tease back.
"I see you haven't gotten any less spikey yet, walking pincushion." Untruthful's eyes slowly shut in a smile and Damian sent one of his own back, momentarily closing his eyes in an imitation of them. Untruthful looked surprised then they eye-close-smiled harder, spike-crest wiggling their excitement. Damian chuckled at them and set down Ares in his make-shift baby seat.
He chatted with Violet as he grabbed and rationed out the dogs' small lunch. He ignored the protesting whines, grunts, and half-barks urging him to 'go faster already'. Violet advised him to use one type of meat instead of another because of both better nutrients for the dogs and there being more of it. He thanked her and did as told. The dogs' lunch wasn't that big, more of a snack than anything, but it kept them from pouting and begging when everyone else ate. It also had helped him give them meds when they were still healing. They were mostly fine now, apparently Galactic Standard medicine works faster than the stuff he remembers. Finishing with the dogs' food he picks up the bowls, stacking a few to do so, and turns around. He walked past the dogs, chuckling at the excited spins, bounces, and tippy-taps they did as they followed him. He glanced back at them once he made it to the wall the flock had designated as their eating area.
He gave them a stern look and waited. They all eventually sat down, some more slow and reluctant than others. Once they did he placed down the bowls in the designated spots. Braxton and Casper had two stepstool-stand things he placed their bowls on because of how big they were. Once all the bowls were down he turned to look at the dogs. He waited in silence for a bit, snapping or humming warningly whenever one tried to shuffle forward. Once he deemed it long enough he gave the sort-of-command he was on the tail end of teaching them.
"(Ok)." When he said that all six dogs ran over to their bowls and started to eat. Damian strode back over to the counter and helped his birds move some plates to the table then settled cross-legged in his usual spot, Ares immediately crawling into his lap and Scales fluttering to perch on the shoulder opposite the side her brother sat on. The flock started to grab food and eat as they chatted with each other. Damian grabbed a little more than a double portion of fruits, beans (or maybe they were berries?), and a few crunchy finger foods he thinks may be cooked or specially prepared insects. He grabbed roughly more than a single portion (for someone his size anyways) of meats, the few root vegetables presented, and what he thinks may be foods made of bone pieces.
Once his plate was full he placed it down in front of him he reached over to grab a smaller plate and started making that one with tiny portions, letting his three kids have free pickings of his plate as he did. When he finished that plate he sat it in front of mini, receiving a grateful squeak before she dug in. He then propped his arms on the table, completely ignoring both his plate and the children stealing from it as he chattered on with his flock. By the time everyone finished his kids had their fill and were starting to fall asleep like usual after eating.
As his flock started gathering their dishes and the extra food on the table, Damian glanced at what was left of his plate. He made a mental note of how there weren’t as much leftovers as before and to grab bigger portions for dinner. As his flock started to disperse he looked to the dogs and said one of the first new commands he taught them.
"(Pups)." He got their attention. "(Take)." He ordered as he lifted up the half-asleep toddler on his lap. The dogs made whisper-boofs to show they heard and the largest three walked over to pick up the kids by their scruffs. Casper (the biggest, though not my much) grabbed Ree, Braxton grabbed Ares, and Dingo walked over to carefully lift Scales from his shoulder. Once they had a firm grip, they looked to Damian for further instruction.
"(To bed)" He directed as he pointed out the door they came from. The pack turned and left him alone in the room. He sighed to himself once he couldn't hear them anymore and looked back at the leftovers on the plate before him. It was maybe under half a portion for his size, probably less. He glanced at the counters and saw all the leftover food was already put up. He could go grab more but even half a portion for him would be nearly three or four large portions for his flock. No. It wasn’t worth it. He'll just grab more tonight.
He ate the leftovers in silence. Since he's got the dogs his head has been a bit quieter, though not silent. Apparently he was still enough for the building to register the room as empty, and the lights cut out. He blinked and paused at the sudden darkness but there was barely a second of blindness before some of his voices put their hands on his mental controls, giving his eyes a boost of minor night vision. It wasn’t much better than his natural amount of it but it helped. He decided not to go turn on the lights again and continued to eat his food as he peacefully listened to the soft chattering of his voices.

Hiya! I want to talk about my experience with Bartholin cysts and the irritation of reoccurrence 🙄
For a little back story — I am a sexually active female , 27 years of age , no STD’s (got tested when I found out about the cyst) & same partner for 2.5 years. I’ve never been pregnant. I’ve never even heard of this condition or health issue until it happened to me.,
In January 2024 I noticed a small lump on the lower part of my vulva near the opening & I was TERRIFIED to say the least. I went to a walk in clinic to see what was going on & they told me a little about bartholin cysts and threw some antibiotics at me & told me to take sitz baths.. well 2 days go by and the cysts is now a full blown abscess and I mean IT WAS HUGE — I’m not over exaggerating it was at least the size of a grapefruit!!
At that time I ended up going to the ER to get it drained because I was unaware that I should’ve went to OB/GYN — They drained it told me to continue with my antibiotics and it takes some ibuprofen. (I think it’s absolutely ridiculous that after they stab you with a needle five times in your vagina to numb it and then cut you open with a scalpel blade they have the NERVE to tell you to take ibuprofen instead of prescribing pain meds)
10 days later, the cyst came back, but it wasn’t an abscess yet.. I called to make an appointment with my OB/GYN, but they couldn’t see me for a month so I suffered and suffered and suffered until I finally went to a walk-in clinic and got it drained 6 days before my OB/GYN appointment. I felt relief after getting it drained, but I was in fear that It was gonna come back…
Six days later, my OB/GYN appointment comes around and YOU GUESSED IT.. it came back just in time to be drained at my appointment.. I finally get it drained for the third time in a one month span — By this time, I have a lot of scar tissue & absolutely terrified of the pain that comes with healing , he packed it with some gauze & sent me home.. 3 days later there is a huge pocket of pus behind my drain so I go in to get the drain removed..
After I got the drain removed, the healing was absolutely atrocious.. significant swelling in my perineal area, which caused the nerves to shoot pain all the way up to my clitoris.. that pain dropped me to my knees, ice packs weren’t working, baths didn’t help.. ibuprofen wasn’t strong enough so I went to ER dripping sweat and shaking from the extreme pain. They prescribed me tramadol & took some imaging (CT & Ultrasound) to find out I had a cyst on the other side & my cyst on the current side CAME BACK.
So here I am.. waiting for surgery on may 30th (mind you I’ve been dealing with this crap for 4 months) I’m gonna have double marsupialization surgery & im so scared of the healing process..
Please send words of encouragement— I feel so alone in this.

PC

Discord Tag: 7up
Name and House: Ronnel Arryn
Age: 33
Cultural Group: Valeman
Appearance: Cheekbones poised like a falcon perched, an aquiline nose after a raptor's beak, a stature rivalling a mountain's (if it were the size of a tall man), and blue eyes the same color as the sky. Aside from a propagandist's parallels to whatever sigil their patron displays, Ronnel Arryn errs from the example of the aloof falcon. Once possessed of a heedless will, a brashness and an impatience, those qualities have been tamed in turn by fatherhood, husbandhood, and rulership—though those traits still persist, merely tinged by the manner that an elder brother might take with the younger. His hair has shifted from dirty blond to sandy brown with age, and a trimmed beard covers his jaw.
Trait: Inspiring
Skill(s): Blunt Weapons, Cavalryman, Tactician, Cunning (e)
Talent(s): Falconry, hunting (non-mechanical 🤫🧏‍♂️), dragonriding
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Lord of the Eyrie, Lord of the Vale, Defender of the Guarded Domains of Arryn, Warden of the East, Warden of the Green Fork, First and Last of His Name, the King Who Flew, Rider of Vhagar (sometimes), and the Last King in Westeros
Starting Location: Feast
Family Tree

AC

Name and House: Marq Hardyng
Age: 32
Cultural Group: Valeman
Appearance: A broad and ruddy man, blonde, brown-eyed, and bearded. Marq Hardyng wears his duty on his sleeve; that duty mostly being hunting with his milk brother.
Trait: Hale
Skill(s): Swords, Investigator (e)
Talent(s): Tourney lore x3
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Scion of House Hardyng
Starting Location: Feast

Biography

Little of the Last King’s early years are of much import; Ronnel Arryn was born to King Joffrey I and Queen Sharra Arryn. His few memories of his father were that of a pallid man, wan and sickly but still a king who bloody well fought the illness that plagued him.
Or perhaps those were just fanciful tales, an imagined story that supplanted the truth of the matter.
Joffrey Arryn did at least survive, if he did not fight. Ronnel’s siblings, Jonos and Roland, would be born in succession. The falcons grew in number, Joffrey’s ailment ceased, and—the gods took him away and brought Arwen Arryn into the world.
Shortly after his sister’s birth, Sharra Arryn dressed her son in royal regalia and placed a crown on his head, assuming rule as sole regent while the boy distracted himself with toys and games. He would be nursed with Marq Hardyng, and he and his milk brother grew to be quick friends.
The Queen Sharra could not rest. There were new contenders on the horizon, greater than what meager assaults the Hoares could occasionally muster against the Bloody Gate: the threefold conquerors atop their dragons. Where the ravens sent by Aegon were met with scorn by Durrandon and hubris by the Hoares, Sharra offered alliance. Her hand in marriage and the left bank of the Green Fork to be annexed into the Guarded Domains.
The dragons rejected the offer, and instead, a Velaryon fleet was sent to take Gulltown and establish a foothold. They were repelled and the Targaryen ships were sunk for that transgression, but Vhagar’s fire consumed the Grafton fleet with them.
Ronnel knew what war was. It was like those tales in storybooks, that of the Griffin King and the Winged Knight, the legends of the Battle of Sevenstars. He, Jonos, and Marq fashioned themselves as Jaime Corbray or Luceon Templeton and fought each other over who could best live up to Artys Arryn’s example. When the Gates of the Moon swelled with men-at-arms, knights, and levied smallfolk, the three would find the most fearsome looking of them and challenge them to duels. Once he heard of dragons, though, Ronnel was consumed. He begged his mother to let him lead a parlay under a peace banner just so that he could see them, but Sharra sent him off to the nurses or left him to kick rocks in the courtyard.
The banners gathered, and the defenses were headed by Lord Rodrik Hardyng. Orders were given, the soldiers were drilled. And Vhagar’s wings cast a shadow so large that it engulfed the Bloody Gate whole. Shouting on the ramparts and in the valleys, but high above in the Eyrie? Ronnel, then just eight, was in awe at the sight.
Sharra could only muster a smile when she returned to find her son on Visenya’s lap. An accord was struck, on Ronnel’s terms this time: he asked to fly on Vhagar and his mother would surrender the crown to the Targaryen Queen. The mercy that Visenya afforded was well-taken, though in Sharra’s mind, the threat of dragonfire crystallized.
A marked shift came then. There were no battles to be won, no politicking to be done that outweighed the import of her sons and her daughter. The Queen-Regent, now the Lady-Regent, empowered her son’s advisors and devoted her time to looking after her children. When Visenya returned after burning House Sunderland whole and gave reprimands, Sharra frowned and offered blunt words in turn, which the Queen acquiesced to. Their relationship thawed hence, though Ronnel had never wavered in his admiration of the Targaryen. A Winged-Knight-Come-Again. Perhaps he could ride a dragon of his own one day.
Ronnel was a rowdy lad and by the time he was of squiring age, he was content to leave the rule of his lands to his mother and whoever she picked as an advisor. Lords such as Lyn Egen, Willem Ryger, and Rodrik Templeton would come to advise the young lord or hawk with him. Lord Mathos Grafton became the most prominent of that cadre, his wisdom in old age allowing him more room for criticism. Ronnel wanted to while his time away with falconry and training, while the old lord reminded him of the issues that Targaryen reign brought.
At four-and-ten, Ronnel stole away from the Eyrie and gathered what boys and knights he could to face the mountain clans. He knew what war was; it was the Root Father and his savages, stealing and laying waste to the lands he was sworn to protect. It was in the throes of battle that Ronnel would be dubbed as a knight by some unknown dying man. The knighthood was left unmentioned, though the purpose he found for his rule—no, his guardianship—lingered.
In his victorious return to the Eyrie, Ronnel would be clouted on the ear for the stunt then barred from leaving for months. Visenya Targaryen landed once more in the Vale. This time, she took it as a home, and she was welcomed with open arms. Aegon’s heir was born in the Eyrie that year, dubbed as Laenor Targaryen and soon practically adopted by the Arryns as their younger sibling. Sharra would grow close to the dragon queen in the years to come.
A year later, Ronnel was sent to King’s Landing to squire for Orys Baratheon. Only a few months elapsed before he grew incensed with the Hand over one thing or another, and the squireship ended when the Arryn came to blows with his knight-master. Ronnel was sent back to the Vale, where he earned his spurs once more. Publicly this time, before a crowd of tourneygoers and then holding a vigil with oaths modeled after those of the Winged Knights.
Though he gave off the impression of a true knight by that time, he was more preoccupied with wine and women and the hunt than statecraft. In any room he entered, he laughed the loudest, boasted the loudest, fought the hardest, always with Marq at his side. Nothing but a scolding from his mother Sharra or a clout on the ear from his second mother Visenya could fetter him. He was a falcon, and he flew high and bright.
Such a lofty stature is bound to attract envy. As any elder brother would, he butted heads with his siblings often. His rivalry with his brother Jonos was much more than a sibling spat, however, though the nature and root of their rivalry is unknown to all but a select few. In later years, their quarrels grew louder and their rifts deeper, with Jonos having been sent thrice to play second fiddle to the Knight of the Bloody Gate, and threatened with taking the black twice as many times. Still, their early quarrels proved to be mere distractions, and they wreaked what havoc boy-lords would in taverns and winesinks.
But his lip had to become stiff the day his mother died, just a few months after he came of age and assumed power. Sharra Arryn's last words of advice ate away at his spirit.
"Kill the boy."
So he was offered at the altar, and so did Rhaenys Targaryen seize the opportunity. Ronnel Arryn would be wed to the Queen’s lady-in-waiting, Serena Stark, and that match was confirmed by Sharra’s will. Yet numb, he received his wife to be in Gulltown with courtesy, and they were wedded with haste. Once a Princess of the North and now the Lady of the Vale, Serena found no home in the Eyrie. Ronnel came to avoid her; going on hunts, staying at the Moongates or even the Bloody Gate, and offering only short conversation in their rare meetings.
It came to a head when Serena stated her intention to return to Winterfell. Ronnel gave a shrug in response, and asked when she wanted to depart. Jonos could be his heir if need be, and his mother’s death still dragged his thoughts, so why bother at all?
The intervention of one dragon queen then another halted the split: Visenya reminded Ronnel that Aegon made two marriages work at once. A raven carrying a letter from Queen Rhaenys arrived, affixed with a ring wrought of Valyrian steel. Ronnel gave it to Serena as a peace offering.
There was no parting from the Targaryens’ grand plans, it seemed. So Ronnel’s marriage with Serena began anew. She would be introduced to the Vale and its customs with feasts and tourneys, sitting on councils and holding court as the Lady of the Vale. In the same vein, more familiar items and furnishings were brought in from the North, and Ronnel would journey to the weirwood tree that the mountain clans held sacred to try to pray with his wife. He did not hear the old gods’ whispers and could not bear the stillness, but the two came to understand one another, and their marriage grew warm. Their first child, Robar Arryn, was born a year later, and the Tourney by the Maiden’s Bay would be held in his honor.
Ronnel settled into his reign. His liveliness returned, though boyish pursuits were restrained with fatherhood. He replaced the Keeper of the Gates of the Moon after the Cavaliers proved more competent, sent tax collector after tax collector when Witch Isle grew silent (and nearly called the banners before being dissuaded), and ensured that the mountain clans and any other would-be invaders were quelled while Lae Targaryen was raised to be a greater king than their father. The Brotherhood of the Winged Knights, once decrepit, grew stronger after pieces of the Winged Knight’s armor were found.
His second child, a daughter, would be born then. Faced with the choice of naming her after Sharra or Visenya, she would instead be named after her great-grandmother Cynthea. Artos Arryn would follow four years later, his name chosen by the Lady Arryn.
Another day in the Eyrie. Five-and-twenty years after Aegon's Conquest, and near thirty years into Ronnel's reign. He slides a razor over his cheek and coughs once into a fist. Ronnel opens his palm to see droplets of blood. He wipes his cheek. A shaving cut, no doubt and no matter.
The next week while he sups with his family, the coughs come back. He excuses himself, blames his trip to the valleys with a chuckle, and Jonos meets his gaze with a sidelong glance before shirking away.
He sees his maester without telling anyone. And once more after a hunt. Soon, he is left sitting on his bed with grains of sweetsleep in hand and a warning: he would die. And soon.
Ronnel Arryn is honorable. He is just, or at least just enough. But when he bounces his son on his knee and looks into smiling grey eyes where his Stark mother's are oft stern, he wonders whether the next Targaryen to come to the Eyrie would let little Artos fly or burn him and his family whole.
It is not enough. Ronnel Arryn is not just enough. As the last king yet walking on the earth of this damnable regent's kingdom, he needs to ensure that the next monarch in Laenor Targaryen sits firmly on the Iron Throne before he dies—honor be damned if need be, by any means fucking necessary. That is his duty to the realm. That is his duty to his wife and children, and that will be his legacy.

Timeline

• 8-9 BC (33 now idk how BC works): Born the first child to King Joffrey I and Queen Sharra Arryn.
• 3 BC: Joffrey I dies of a chill. Ronnel is crowned king at age six.
• 1 BC: After House Grafton’s fleet is burned, the armies of the Guarded Domains gather at the Bloody Gate. Visenya’s landing.
• 2 AC: The Three Sisters burn.
• 4 AC: Ronnel begins squiring for Elbert Waynwood.
• 6 AC: Ronnel fights his first battle against the Sons of the Tree, and undergoes his first dubbing.
• 7-9 AC: Visenya arrives at the Eyrie. Ronnel departs for King’s Landing to squire for Orys Baratheon, returning after a fight with his knight-master. He is knighted once more at a tourney.
• 10-11 AC: Sharra Arryn dies, and the Arryns’ grief is cut short by a match arranged by Rhaenys and approved by the Lady-Regent before her death. Serena Stark and Ronnel Arryn are wed, and the marriage nearly falls apart before the intervention of the dragon queens.
• 12 AC: Robar Arryn is born. The Tourney by the Maiden’s Bay is called in the new heir's honor.
• 13 AC: The Cavaliers fight off the Painted Dogs outside the Gates of the Moon, and are given wardenship over them as reward. Marq Hardyng begins pursuing the tourney circuit.
• 15 AC: Cynthea Arryn is born.
• 19 AC: Artos Arryn is born.
• 23 AC: With Jonos Arryn settling into a discontent life at the Bloody Gate, the need for a sworn sword is lessened. Marq Hardyng travels to Essos to search for clues linking the Winged Knight to the Andal conquerors. He finds none, and returns a year later.
• Early 25 AC: An illness wells in Ronnel’s lungs. His maester tells him that he has about a year to live.
• Late 25 AC: The Arryns travel to the celebration near King’s Landing.

Sup porting Characters

• Cortnay Arryn, 54 (General): Ronnel’s uncle. Once a prince, Cortnay served variously as the Knight of the Gate, the Captain of the Guards, or an advisor. Cortnay is known for his exasperated sighs, and struggles to keep up when he hunts with his nephew. Still, he has a good head for tactics and participated in actions against the Mountain Clans and the Hoares.
• Jasper Arryn, 19 (General): Ronnel’s second cousin. Though removed from the main line of House Arryn, Jasper was raised in the Gates and remained a fixture in the Arryn household. He swore vows modeled after the Ash-Branded, though his cheery disposition seems to contradict them.
• Cynthea Corbray, 78 (N/A): The Queen-Grandmother claims to have been asleep when Visenya landed in the Eyrie, and preserved her coronet by hiding it in the Gates. She resides at the Gates of the Moon with the Cavaliers, and it has become tradition to pay one’s respects to her when passing through.
• Jonos Arryn, 31 (N/A): In another world, Jonos would be known as the Kinslayer, and he certainly possesses that propensity. Wed to Maris Grafton and perhaps favored by her lord grandfather, he has long since hated the Targaryens, and blames Visenya for his true mother’s death. Jonos’ truculence precedes him, and he is kept fettered with thankless offices.

Hello wonderful people, this is my first day on this subreddit. I almost shared this somewhere else but something kept deleting my drafts (Reddit lags after typing for a while so I have to save a draft and retype). Anyway, I think the reason for that was so I would stumble upon here today, because I stumble upon here today from a place I joined only yesterday to potentially post my experience. I guess I'll find out if it was really meant to be when I save my first draft of this post.
Either way, let me get started with a little background. I know it's going to be a long post as it is and I apologize, but as a polytheist it's imperative I give some sort of context for this as it's widely misinterpreted by even my fellow polytheists. If you don't wish to read about the religion portion of this post I'll mark it so you can skip to the second dividing line as seen below:
My choice in coining my religious views as simply "Polytheist" is because it removes a lot of perceptions people have it when they initially hear it named such as "Pagan." I don't merely worship "the old gods". Long story short, I don't just believe these gods existed and still exist, but I know they do. I don't necessarily know if my human mind can comprehend them as anything but "a god or goddess", and I agree there's a strong chance they may be something else other than what the words "god and goddess" makes our minds draw a conclusion to about what that means.
I am not entirely anonymous in this post, but for those who may know who I am I do wish you please leave that out of this, but I work for a company that, since I first started my polytheistic journey this past winter, took notice. Take that to mean whatever you think it does, but that's not important. What's important is it not only has reinforced my beliefs, due to having been noticed by fellow and sympathetic believers, but it has catapulted a certain understanding of why my prayers have been working and why such a formerly prosaic minded individual such as myself could accept something so... foreign to everything I had ever known.
It started with prayers to Athena. I had an OBE of sorts, but she spoke to me within my own mind. And before people go thinking it was my imagination, trust me: you'd know it wasn't if it happened to you. It's indescribable and the empowerment from it was borderline overpowering. To have the entire foundation of your life and your perceived place in the world overnight is something I feel I can finally share with those who understand. And before I continue I just want to give an explanation that my polytheism is not simply Hellenic due to my prayers to Athena.
Our ancestors weren't stupid, even at the start of our current world understanding of the religions they practiced. They prayed who they prayed to for a reason. And one of the thing that is always so misunderstood is that "none of them can possibly be true" because their stories, while similar, have deviations and not all the gods and goddesses line up. That idea in itself is the most untrue part of this understanding of these religions. The Abrahamic religions sort of threw a wrench into this understanding as the texts of those religions are taught to be more literal, but in terms of polytheism of old there's a distinction between the mythological stories and the religious practice. The mythos is allegory, and they're stories told to venerate the gods and goddesses. And sometimes, such as the case with Zeus, they're later reinterpreted to condemn them by a certain Latin writer I won't name. I don't want to stray too far off topic and would like to wrap this portion up or else I'll never get to what happened to me. If anyone is still wondering, I mostly worship the syncretic deities in relation to Athena (the Latin Minerva, the Egyptian Neith as well as those slightly out of her realm but somewhat related to: Egyptian Anubis and Thoth).
Without further adieu, here's what happened 2 days ago:
I was sitting in my car after a rough week... night... few months. Whatever, it's been rough for a while. I'm feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted not just with things going on in my life, but I almost felt the weight of everyone else's pain and anger on my own shoulders. I was thoroughly upset that we as a species are subjected to be surrounded by such hate, and spite, and pain and horrible suffering. Even if a lot of us don't go through it, everyone feels the effects of it. The world is designed around hate and pain and suffering. Sure, we love and we can experience amazing things in this life, but it's tainted. We shouldn't have to endure things this way. That's just an excuse we tell ourselves to keep us sane in a pretty corrupt, tainted society. Planet, even. And I voice all these concerns to all of those which I worship and said a deep prayer to them. But I didn't stop there. Then I had an idea.
I know everyone has a different interpretation of their reality around them. It's all based on what we can experience, after all. But in my time I have spent researching what many call the... more... I don't want to incorrectly name this, but the more... wild part of the phenomenon surrounding non-human intelligences and our place in the universe. In my time researching this both before and after my first religious experience, I think I have a pretty rough idea of the cause of this. I don't know what it really truly is, but I feel a fitting name for it is simple "the evil". Whatever it is, it's not good natured. It does not have our best interests in heart. In my time of attempting remote viewing and astral projection, both before and since my religious experience, I've had an experience with... something not nice. And my idea was...
I don't have anything left to lose. I'm going to call them out on their faults... wherever and whatever they actually are. So, I said my prayers to those I worship and I added an addendum to it. I said (paraphrasing), "Lady's Athena, Minerva, Neith and Lord's Anubis and Thoth... I seek your strength, wisdom, understanding and protection as I do something which is probably very stupid. If I say something and am harmed, at least I tried, but if I say and try nothing then I've done nothing but fail."
It was a quiet desert night in my little neighborhood. It's a gated community and we don't deal with any nonsense just about... ever, really. And I sat in my car, prayer beads for Anubis, Minerva, Athena and Neith in my hands, and necklaces for Athena, Neith and Thoth displayed around my neck and...
I called "the evil" out. I spoke out everything I thought about it. And even as I sat there in my car, I felt strong and resilient and most definitely not alone. In two ways. Inside my being I felt those I worship with all the love I have to give, and staring through it all I felt something else. I had to regularly open my eyes to check I was not alone in my car. First I would feel it on my car seat next to me. Sometimes I would feel it sitting behind me staring at me. Sometimes I would feel it sitting in the middle of the backseat staring at me through the rear view mirror. But every time I checked, nothing was there. I did not waiver and I said all I had to say until I could think of nothing else.
I told it I thought it was pathetic. That I knew the only thing here that should be scared is it be scared of us. I told it that it's lazy and selfish for trying to hold us down because it's scared of what we can be than do the hard thing and help us be better than it can ever be. I called it shortsighted. Whatever pathetic bombastic rhetoric it has in mind is a disgrace to all that can exist anywhere, anyplace and at anytime. And I kissed my prayer beads, said another short prayer. I kissed all my necklaces, and against all instincts I had to run from my car back into my house crying... I firmly locked my car doors, walked steady and strong with head-up, and without looking back to my front door. The impenetrable eyes beaming through the back of my body didn't waver me and I went inside. An hour later I was asleep. I had no dreams or anything out of the ordinary happen once I walked in my door.
But then the next morning came. I took my trash out the side-door of my house as my community has a strict rule of keeping them hidden aside from trash-night, when I got a weird glance from my neighbor. I waved and was a bit confused when he just gave me a weird nod and opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. I shook it off, went back inside, and went to gather my things to go get some Starbucks before I started my work day. I walked out my front door, locking it behind me of course, and unlocked my car with the fob. When I go to open the car door, I find it's already ajar. In fact, all four of them appear slightly ajar. My glovebox is open. The papers inside strewn everywhere on the floor. My car seat covers are lifted up off the seat. My little cover thing I use for spare change/random stuff below the dash was wide open had its contents spilling onto the floor and into my cup holders. My center console was flipped the whole way open, the emergency napkins and feminine products ripped open and shoved back in.
So I turn around and look at my other car. The same exact thing. Finally my neighbor from earlier comes out front to greet me and he says "who'd you piss off?" Long story short, I told him I had no idea but I didn't tell him that I think I had a good hunch. I filed a police report as recommended by the authority running our little community. They took their pictures and all that and left. I haven't heard anything and don't expect to. We all have cameras on our property, but we have a rule to point them all down so we're not affecting each other's privacy. There was no disturbances detected and I parked my cars slightly too far back to see anything but the hood and part of the dash. We had hoped to see any doors opening, but no such luck. That's fine, I don't think I really need a prosaic explanation from the police. Unless an intruder, which never happens in our community (none of my neighbors recall anything like a break in at all either, even those that have lived here for much longer than the few years I have), got into the back of my car to climb through it without rocking it and also disturbing the motion sensor light on the front my house... which I understand is not impossible, but I'll continue to have my serious doubts about that... especially considering nothing was stolen at all including a set of earrings my grandmother gave me which I forgot I had in my other car... out in the open for the taking. Yet there they still say in the center cup holder.
Anyway, think what you will but the timing is almost too perfect to me. I think I have a good reason to know what might've happened. Something picked an unassuming way of letting me know without tipping anyone off that... well, I think something let me know that it can get to me if it wants to. Maybe it's a bluff, maybe it's not. But what I do know is that while it won't be today, and I don't think it'll be tomorrow; I'm not going to stop. I'd rather have something horrible happen to me and live or die in agony than sit back knowing maybe feigning ignorance in the face of nothing to lose is more cowardly than them. I refuse to accept that. I refuse to accept the hardships of this life. Things don't have to be this way. Something out there is forcing it to be this way.
Anyway, I appreciate anyone who reads this and hope to at the very least inspire fellow experiencers to be brave in the face of something that can have quite an insidious side.

The menace has spread across the galaxy, and continues to, inexorably, do so.
The horde of clicking and clacking shells scrape across rocks; they pick their way up plant stalks; they jab their pointed feet into the very flesh of anything they can digest; they do these things as they warm across everything. Their ravenous maws devouring every digestible morsel that their claws can crush, rip, or shred.
The only worlds that have been safe from the horror of their infestation are those whose environments are so harsh that no life can survive on the surface. Even then, out in the darkness, they could have made hibernation colonies from which they could re-spread across the cosmos at any time.
Every star-faring race knows of them and, equally so, fears their reproductive cycles. Fears their emergence from a long sleep on the 23rd or the 29th cycle before the adults either hide themselves deep or die, leaving billions of eggs and larvae to grow until the next cycle.
No one, not even the vast horde itself, knows which world spawned their like nor is there any indicator of how long their menace has writhed across the blackness of space. For all of the sentients who have encountered them they, simply, are. They are a massive threat and precautions need to be taken in advance of them waking to preserve some semblance of the societies on the worlds that have fallen victim to the great armored monsters from the stars.
Children are taught, from a young age, to flee from anything resembling the monsters, even tiny versions, because where there is one, there are many. Where there are many, there are millions. Where there are millions there is a danger to all. Millions of tiny legs can stab through the youth of any sentient species, inducing intense pain and inflammation before the pincers start tearing the flesh from their bodies, devouring them whole in bites as the swarm covers hides them from any hope of rescue.
The littles ones can, quite easily, be crushed but doing so draws the attention of the horde and any who dare to crush one are soon victims of the many. They can be obliterated by projectiles, but their collective intellect quickly determines the origin and will overrun it to protect the horde as a whole. The individual monsters have no sense of self preservation, but their collective hungers for life eternal and will eradicate entire worlds to accomplish it… before harvesting the resources to flee to the blackness of eternity for another world.
There are histories that show worlds succumbing to the monsters in as few as 4 reproductive cycles, though the more technologically adept worlds have achieved stalemates with the horde such that neither can ever eradicate the other from the very essence of the planet. These worlds are the most prepared when the claws sprout from the ground, but they are also the ones that suffer the heaviest during the rampage of gnashing, armor-plated craws.
Most worlds succumb after a few hundred years, each cycle of hatchlings draining a bit more of the ecosystem into the growth of the horde. These worlds flee, often taking eggs with them to start the cycle anew on a new world, ravaging the escapees before any of them even have a chance to establish a new life.
The Galactic Council of Sentients has a standing policy of destroying any horde vessels that are encountered in deep space, but the odds of such encounters are extremely low. The GCS also has a policy of expending any effort, including exhausting the fuel supplies of entire fleets, to push any Horde ships found entering a system directly into a collision path with the star; the energy needed to create such delta-V is worthwhile as it has been the only way to protect worlds from an onslaught. The GCS also has a standing policy of leaving worlds with developing sentients alone and allowing them to develop their own star travel before revealing any secrets of the cosmos to them, EXCEPT when such a world is in direct line to be invaded by the Horde. The GCS’ one exception to the non-interference clauses for developing worlds is to warn them, and save them if possible, from a Horde invasion.
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It was not possible to do anything but report the dire situation around Yellow Star 176J438B. The Horde rockships were slowly tumbling through space on a collision course with the third planet in the system, the only planet that supported any conventional life forms and one of the four bodies in the system that were known to be within range of the Horde’s tolerances.
Report and wait.
The only concern is, do we tell the sentients of this world, who have barely touched the sky around their world, that their end is nigh or do we allow them the peace of ignorance until the last moments of their existence?
Anthropologists have recommended both courses of action many times in history, all depending on the understanding of the world in question. If it is believed that the news of impending destruction will cause their society to implode and reign a special kind of horror down upon them of their own doing then it is always determined to let them survive in ignorance until the monsters fall to their world and begin devouring everything. If, however, their development arc indicates that they will band together and find some sort of collective solace in knowing that they are not alone in the cosmos AND that the others chose to warn them of an incoming apocalypse so that they can try to prepare then the GCS permits contact and warning. Either way, the planet is doomed, but how their destruction plays out is the only assistance that can be offered to them.
Yellow Star 176J438B, it turns out, is a bit of an anomaly as their culture is so heterogeneous that the anthropologists are not sure which is the best course of action. The GCS waits. The observing survey ship waits. The Horde tumbles ever closer.
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The survey ship reports in that the sentients of the doomed world have launched a probe at the Horde vessel. A primitive craft, equipped with many sensors and electronics to, clearly, try to study the inbound vessel but, also, armed with a nuclear warhead the likes of which no sentients in the entire GCS have ever build before. The probe vessel closes range on the Horde ship, two silent and soulless entities sliding through the emptiness of space between the worlds of this remote star system. The probe, using all of its resources to ascertain what the sentients of the world have seen in the heavens careens without power toward its destination which, just hours before the impact, alters the vector of its travel by a fraction of a degree in all axes, allowing the sentients’ probe to harmlessly pass it by, now destined to be lost in the vast emptiness of interstellar space.
There are but a few weeks left before the Horde lands on the world and the great devouring begins. The sentients of that world generate a vast increase in radio chatter about the mystery object. The survey team mourns for the future that they must witness.
The horde’s giant rock ship hurtles slowly, altering its spin and its trajectory in such a manner that it will perform a graceful landing on the remote world. A graceful landing followed by a vomitous disgorging of legs and pincers onto the land and into the seas of the world.
The sentients, aware that the giant rock is under some sort of power and, apparently, going to land instead of raining destruction on them in one giant collision, gather by the hundreds of thousands to see the unprecedented event in their history.
They watch as the rock rolls out of the heavens, shunning fire and smoke and blasting heat in intolerable waves, as it gently sinks halfway into the ground. The trees around it erupt in flame before a vast emission of CO2 extinguishes the fires, and the people within range. The corpses simply fall where they suffocated from the wall of gas.
The rock cracks open and the monsters emerge. Little ones, the size of the hands of the sentients emerge in the millions followed by monstrous beings of various sizes. The tiny critters swarm over the corpses of the dead, shredding their flesh and clothes and devouring them, leaving skeletal remains in their wake. The larger monsters swing their claws out and grab bystanders, crushing them in their great pincers or ripping them in twain, before gorging on them.
The sentients retreat.
The screaming and the cacophony of panic fill the skies nearby and ripple through the radio waves in the broadcasts of their world.
“Dem aliens are crabs!” one specific sentient is seen over and over again in various broadcasts in various frequencies and formats. “They’re monster crabs from outer space! Well, ya know what? We know how to deal with crabs where I come from.”
And with that the sentients of the world began to mobilize. A vast moat of fire was lain, and maintained, around the landing site so that the crabs could not flee across the land. The sentients brought in vast tanks of water and, to the shock of the anthropology observers, began heating the tanks of water.
The sentients used flying machines to grab the largest of the Horde and dropped them into the boiling water; they scooped up the littlest Hordlings by the millions and threw them into the water. The Horde thrashed and fought, but each individual’s death lessened their intellect and their ability to try to outsmart the beings of this world.
The sentients, after a short span of weeks, had eradicated all of the active members of the horde on their world. Each and every one was boiled or roasted and then, to the horror of the observers, eaten. The sentients of this world, it seems, had many similar forms on their world and found them delicious.
The report to the GCS included this information and the GCS begged the observers to make contact to learn of this technique.
The denizens of this backwater world had just managed to bring hope to trillions of other sentients across the galaxy that, perhaps, there was a way to fight back against the horde from the heavens.

I mean as in a panic attack thinking about it. Since my diagnosis last March I have not had one good doctors appointment. It's just one sucky scan after another. I feel complete PTSD just think about each visit. I'm now on the last chemo they can try for me. And the thought of going back to the cancer center is absolutely paralyzing. I'm so tired of leaving those bad news visits and crying all the way home. I had to have a stent exchange on Thursday, then an echo on my heart Monday and a virtual visit with the doctor , Tuesday I was back at the cancer center for extreme kidney stent pain which took four hours of workup with x rays and ultrasounds and urine samples. I was literally shaking and about to throw up from stress by the time I left and by then the stent didn't even hurt anymore . I thought I was gonna pass out going between all these tests, then yesterday i was back there for treatment and they could not access my port. Took over an hour to finally do it. I'm so tired of my body being constantly violated. I went in the bathroom and sobbed. I hate this disease. I hate what's happened to my life. They have me set for a cancer psychiatrist appointment the first week of June because I told my doctor I am not okay emotionally and mentally. Is there any way to just try to live and appreciate each day we have when we're feeling fairly well without having the absolute mind hell constantly swirling with the "what's going to happen to me next?"