#TOC Doctor

[anns-works]

Doctor: You can do whatever you put your heart into! I believe in you >:D

Master, eyes lighting up: I'm gonna be a communist.

Doctor, salutes him: Godspeed king.

#Travelers Of Chaos #personal shitpost #personal shitposts #fanfic shitpost #fanfic shitposting #shitposts #doctor who funny #doctor who quotes #doctor who #the doctor #the master #incorrect doctor who #incorrect doctor who quotes #doctor who au #doctor who shitposts #TOC Doctor #TOC Master

[therantingdiaries]

Eye Check

I went to the eye doctor today for the first time to get my eyes checked. Turns out I have astigmatism. I wasn't really surprised though.

I knew it was inevitable for me to one day have glasses. Both of my parents have them, and my mom even got her first pair at my age.

I was excited to pick out and buy my first pair of glasses. They're going to be matte black frames, square lenses, and will have the blue light filter.

I've heard people dread hearing they need glasses, but I've always thought people who wore them were really cute; I even envied them a bit. Especially in elementary school, I desperately wished I could wear them.

But now my little childhood dream is coming true. ✨

#glasses #eye doctor #astigmatism #toc: thoughts

[actually-insane-blorbo-bracket]

So basically I got mad that @top-fictional-psychotic-woman was an "evil fictional woman bracket", but instead of annoying the mod, I went "huh, mentally ill characters sounds like a good first tournament".

So welcome to the Actually Insane Blorbo Bracket!!!

[Plain Text Transcription: So welcome to the Actually Insane Blorbo Bracket!!! End Transcription.]

The rules of the tournament goes as follows:

The character must be mentally ill in some way, be it personality disorder, psychotic disorder, depression, anxiety, really bad trauma, etc.

Headcanons and word-of-author are 100% allowed (rarely characters admit being mentally ill on screen so...)

The character can be villainous, but I would prefer if they weren't.

If the character is a villain, you have to explain why they're mentally ill besides "they're a villain" or "they look crazy". Example: Most versions of Joker wouldn't be allowed since he isn't mentally ill in them as far as I know, but the 2019 movie version would because his mental illness isn't his violence and murders, is his hallucinations that he's dating that neighbor that takes the elevator with him.

You can submit multiple characters as a group if they're already a group in the source. Example: the Literature Club from Doki Doki Literature Club or Doctor Palomero's patients from the Spanish movie Toc Toc (watch Toc Toc, it's such a funny movie).

There's no restrictions on what fandom the character is from. You can submit characters from MCYT, Attack On Titan, hell even Adam Sandler movies if you want to, despite how much I don't like those movies.

No real people please, unless it's a fictionalized version of that person. Example: real life Van Gogh wouldn't be allowed, but Van Gogh from that Doctor Who episode would.

Feel free to send propaganda as asks or reblogs (though send it in the post instead of the tags), but I will only reblog propaganda uplifting a character, not bad mouthing other characters. If you're consistently negative about any character in the bracket, you will be blocked.

Please don't bring up discourse like "that character is actually really problematic". Do you know how short this bracket would be if there was only clean, advertiser-friendly depictions of mental illness here?

Feel free to ask me anything about the bracket if you're on doubt, I will try to answer as many as I can.

Here's the form:

Submissions will be open until 31 of July.

Thank you for reading, hope you have an awesome day!!

#poll tournament #actually insane blorbo bracket #aibb

[the-trans-anon]

After the Party

Summary: Michael screams and screams and screams. But there is no response. His little brother is dead.

Trigger Warnings: Death, description of the bite of 83

Tick.

Michael is sitting in his room. His back against the door, staring into nothing.

Tock.

The door is locked. So are the windows. No way out.

Tick.

It doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t try to leave even if he were able.

Tock.

There’s a mask in the corner of the room. He can’t look at it, because if he does he’s going to get sick again.

Tick.

His traitorous eye flicks towards it anyway.

Toc--

The small body in his hands is screaming, crying, struggling. But Michael just laughs. Laughs because it’s funny. Laughs because his stupid little brother is such a crybaby and wouldn’t it be funny? To push him closer towards the thing he loves yet claims to hate? To give him something to really cry about? And so Michael pushes him closer and closer and-

Michael dives towards the trash can and empties the contents of his stomach. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, tracks already well-worn into his cheeks. And how fitting is it? That now he’s the crybaby? Now that- Now that--

There’s a crunch and silence. A crunch and the world ends. A crunch and distantly he’s aware of the splatter of warm blood, the sound of screaming around him, hands pushing him away. But all he hears is the crunch. And all he sees is that single, unrelenting eye, staring right back at him.

Next to the mask is a small, yellow bear. It has a purple hat, a purple bowtie, and two black buttons for eyes. It’s splattered with blood, the left side of its face completely soaked. Michael stares at it. The bear stares back. And before he knows it, he’s crying.

Large, warm tears forcing themselves out of his eyes and down his cheeks, sobs breaking from his mouth, his body curling and shaking. You don’t deserve to cry. He thinks to himself. He was eight years old and you killed him. He was scared and crying and you killed him. He was begging you to stop and you killed him. 

But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop.

----

Michael scrubs. He scrubs and he scrubs and he scrubs. Hot water pours over his fingers, large bubbles of soap dripping down the drain. It’s not enough. He’s not trying to clean himself, he’s given up on scrubbing away the blood on his hands.

(He took shower after shower after shower. Water so hot it burned his skin. Cleaned and cleaned and cleaned until Father finally yelled at him for raising the water bill. None of it worked. The blood is still there.)

No, he’s trying to clean the bear. Because that morning Father told him and Lizzy that they were going to visit his little brother at the hospital. Because that morning Michael looked at the small, stuffed bear still in his room, and decided it was unacceptable for the yellow fabric to have even an inch of red on it. 

(Because he looked at that bright red stain and all he could hear was crunch crunch CRUNCH-)

So he scrubs.

There’s a noise at the bathroom door. He tenses and turns (don’t be Father don’t be Father) and it’s Lizzy, staring at him. She hasn’t said anything to him. He hasn’t said anything to her. She just stares at him, silent and accusing. Lizzy leaves, and Michael continues to scrub. 

----

The heart monitor beeps steadily. His little brother breathes slowly, sleeping. It would be peaceful, if not for the bandages covering the left half of his face. Michael is sitting at his bedside, Lizzy across from him. Father is in the hallway, speaking to the doctor. Judging by Father’s rising volume, it’s not good news.

The bear is in his hands, his fingers running slowly over its fuzz. He couldn’t completely get the stain out, but at the very least it’s no longer blood red. The fur is damaged, some of it completely scrubbed away. He doesn’t think his little brother would mind. He thinks his little brother has much bigger things to hate him for. 

Michael places the bear in his brother’s hands, laying in on him like a flower on a corpse. 

“Stop crying.” 

He looks over at Lizzy, startled. It’s the first thing she’s said to him since the party. She’s staring at him like she wishes she could kill him with a single look. He hadn’t even realized he’d started crying.

“Stop crying! You don’t get to cry!” She screams, tears forming in her own eyes. “You killed him! You killed him!! You can’t cry!” She sobs and she stares at him like he’s the thing she hates most in the world, like if he was gone her life would be perfect. 

“I WISH IT WAS YOU INSTEAD!” And she’s gone, fled from the room. 

(Michael agrees. It would have been better if it was him. It should have been him.)

He looks back at what remains of his little brother.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s not enough, nothing will ever be enough. No amount of apologizing and begging for forgiveness can resolve him for his sins. But it’s all he has. All he can say.

“I’m sorry.”

----

It doesn’t rain at the funeral. He thinks his brother would have liked that, that it was bright and sunny instead of sad and gloomy. But Michael doesn’t know for sure, and now he’ll never know. 

He can feel the stares on his back. He’s heard the whispers, the rumors. He knows some people feel like he shouldn’t be here, the murderer at his victim’s funeral. Father might have made him stay home, if not for Uncle Henry. Sweet Uncle Henry, who’s been nothing but kind to him since the party. 

Michael thinks he prefers the hate. At least he deserves that. 

He’s holding the bear in his hands. It felt wrong to leave it at home, considering how much his little brother loved it. Henry suggested he could leave it in the coffin with his brother, but the thought of leaving the bear, of leaving the thing his brother loved most, of leaving the only thing he has left of his brother-

He couldn’t do it.

Father finishes his speech, and the coffin is lowered.

----

Michael is standing outside of his little brother’s door. The bear is clutched against his chest.

He’s been standing there for a few minutes.

It feels wrong to enter, to force his way into his brother’s space. But he has to enter, has to return what doesn’t belong to him. 

He hesitates, hand lingering over the doorknob. He enters.

The room is completely unchanged from when he saw it last, aside from being a bit duster. 

(He thinks of the room getting duster and duster, completely unused, and has to force down a sob.)

Michael walks over to the bed, and gently places the bear onto it. Right in the center, where the pillows meet the blankets. 

There’s a creak behind him and he whips around to see Lizzy. He opens his mouth to explain, but before he can get so much as a syllable out she races to his side and flings her arms around his waist. 

“I’M SORRY!” She sobs.

Michael kneels down, slightly pushing her away so he can see her face. “Liz, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Her face is flushed red, her eyes filled with water. “I- I didn’t mean it!! I don’t wish it was you, I don’t want you to die. Please don’t leave-” Her voice breaks and Michael hugs her tightly, pushing her face against her chest.

“It’s ok Liz, I’m not going to leave. It’s ok.” He tries to keep his voice soft and quiet, gently rubs her back. Everything he should have done before- Before.

“It- it was an accident. Right, Mikey? You didn’t mean to hurt him?” She looks at him and she’s filled with so much hope that he. He can’t. He can’t look at her and say no, that’s not true. Because no, Michael didn’t mean to kill his brother. But Michael did want to hurt him. Because he hated it, how his brother could cry and cry and cry and Father wouldn’t say or do anything and Michael would always have to be the one to cheer him up and make him stop and he was so tired and for once he just wanted to make him STOP-

But how do you look at your little sister and tell her how much of a monster you really are?

So instead he just says: “Yes, Liz. It was an accident.” Because Michael Afton is a coward.

And he always will be.

#fnaf #michael afton #elizabeth afton #five nights at freddy's #bite of 83 #my writing

[blazing-dynamo]

How does one format epubs? I have a lot of free time and love formatting, I'd love contributing to the effort of fixing all the doctor who epubs!

It’s complicated, but doable.

First, it depends on the style of PDF. There are some that are crisp scans of every page, scanned by the Camels, (btw the camels if you’re still around you’re a real one.) and for those, I open them in Microsoft Word, because word is like 80% good at converting it, where other PDF eaters suck.

From there, I check out some common problems:

1. Footers: just remove them all. They don’t help in ePub land

2. Headings: for consistency, I change all the Headings to Agency FB, because it’s included in windows and matches the vibe of the headings in the book

3. Chapter Breaks: I turn on the “View Whitespace” mode, and delete everywhere that says section break, and then make sure there’s a page break at the end of every chapter, after the title page, foreword, etc. I also add “Chapter X” on the line before the title of the chapter. The EDAs are not consistent in how they handle chapter titles and I crave consistency so I add it.

4. Table of Contents. Word is Too Powerful™️ and recognizes the table of contents and imports it as a smart, clickable ToC, which, again, we don’t need. You can’t really edit it or anything so I just delete it, and type up a new one, leaving off the page numbers because we won’t need them in epic land.

5. Formatting. This is the bulk of the issue. I use word WildCards, which are similar to RegEx, to find all cases of a lowercase letter or comma followed by a paragraph mark, and replace it with the same character followed by a space. Then I also look for instances of a paragraph mark followed by a lower case letter, and replace it with space plus the letter. Then I replace all Tab characters with a space. Then I look for paragraph marks followed by a space and replace them with just a paragraph mark. This gets like 94% of the bad formatting that the Calibre/kindle/etc auto ePub conversion makes reading insufferable. I try to catch as many of the rest while doing the remaining steps.

6. Formatting cont’d: then, I change the Normal style to be 12pt Garamond. This isn’t important because this is ultimately up to the reader’s chosen font in their eReader, and I don’t embed Garamond, but putting it in Garamond makes it easier for me to notice when something is wrong because I’m used to seeing Garamond while making these.

Then, I use Find/Replace to add a highlight to everything that has the same indent as the Normal style, so I can then see everything weird because it won’t be highlighted. I then scrub through the book and set the problem paragraphs to the Normal style, which then Corrects the indents. I make sure when I do this to watch for italics and make sure that the style didn’t revert them to normal. This happens on short paragraphs with one or two words, and one of which is italicized, as well as paragraphs where the entire thing is italicized.

I also in this step scrub through to find mid-chapter breaks, the favorite storytelling device of the EDAs, and make them uniform. Word will make it into various levels of after-paragraph spacing, but I set the paragraph to normal, and then just leave two empty paragraphs between the sections. This tends to import the best across devices and fonts.

Finally, I make sure that after each chapter and chapter break, the first paragraph isn’t indented, to match the style of the print EDAs.

7. Still formatting, but different. I then do a scrub through and make sure I didn’t screw anything up or forget something. The problem with RegEx is that it will do exactly what you tell it to, even if that’s not what you wanted to happen. So oftentimes my table of contents or copyright page is borked, and I have to go fix it. Once I have it in a decent shape, I

8. Import into Calibre. Just drag and drop the DocX into Calibre and it’ll get added as a book. I then use the metadata editor to download the metadata from the web, so it’ll have good info on it. None of the online sources regocnize this as a series, though, so I add it myself.

9. Convert to ePub: in the Calibre library list I right click the book and convert it to ePub, default settings. DocX->ePub conversion is really simple because they are both just HTML pages under the hood, so it imports perfectly.

10. (Bonus steps) once an ePub, I press T to edit the book, and import Agency FB and Agency FB Bold, and then press the Table of Contents button, to select where the in-reader chapter list points to. And then I use just hyperlinks to make the in-book ToC clickable to take it to the same place.

The uglier, hand-typed PDFs are basically the same, but then I also have to do a bunch of spell check to catch all the typos. And then those don’t have italics at all, so depending on the book, and if I have a copy of it physically, I scan the physical book with my eyeballs to catch italics and add them back to the DocX. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than the baffling choice to just remove them completely.

I know from importing the PDFs a long time ago there’s another person who scanned/typed the books, but I haven’t seen the state of them to know if they’ll need extra TLC.

It’s kind of a whole lot! But also if I get a The Camels PDF I can knock it out in about an hour.

If you wanted to take a crack at it, by all means! Though I really need a proofer, so if you wanted to just start reading and use the form links I have in the folders to report the issues you find, that would be wonderful. Bonus points, you get to read the EDAs lol.

#dw #doctor who edas #eighth doctor #eighth doctor adventures #EDAs #ebook #epub

[kizzyedgelll]

MOVIES I WATCHED IN 2023 [7/?] ⤿ Toc Toc (2017) dir. Vicente Villanueva

"What do I tell the doctor?" "That we've had enough for today. And we didn't need his therapy, we worked it out ourselves."

#my*gifs #** #*2023w #toc toc #toc toc 2017 #netflixedit #netflixgifs #worldcinemaedit #dailyworldcinema #moviegifs #movieedit #filmgifs #filmedit #comedy movies #comedy films #i have no idea what else to tag lmao #q

[woodsfae]

Happy Weekend! :)

Babylon 5 s01e14: The Quality of Mercy

First Previous

ToC

I’ve learnt so much about the Centauri and Narn, can it be Minbari time?! edit: no. Not really.

Londo is frothing at the mouth at the opportunity to suborn the comically naive and sheltered Delenn’s Aide. Should be either quite funny, quite second-hand embarrassing, or both.

Judge: “may god have mercy on your soul,” Prisoner: *smiles*

I’m intrigued!

Medlabs aren’t free?? Not everyone can afford medical treatment??!! Oh no, Babylon 5 is absolutely and officially Space Dystopian Confirmed. :( :(

Unauthorized clinic = free clinic 😣😣😣

Ivanova-Franklin team-up yes! :-)

Talia episode, yes!! But goddamn boooo for more Talia Traumatization.

There’s so much going on in this episode.

Mysterious Alien Device Healer. (Laura) I understand disapproving of untested treatments, but it’s rich to scold someone who only takes donations, when your own medical practice charges. And doesn’t even seem to have a sliding scale!

Brain wiping people is ethically dubious enough, but reprogramming them into a new person and forcing that new person to serve the community for the rest of their life? That’s not ethically dubious so much as slavery by a different name. Reminds me of a short story I read recently.

Yeah, the strip club is definitely the “heart and soul of Babylon 5,” Londo. And getting the poorly paid Lennier to pay for it all. Extremely Londo Mollari.

“There’s no alcohol in here, is there? […] Because my people do not react well at all to alcohol. Even a small quantity causes psychotic impulses and - and violent, homicidal rages.”

Yeah better whisk that highly alcoholic beverage away, Londo. This isn't the only reason why you shouldn't drug people against their consent, but it sure is a great object lesson into ONE reason why it's a bad idea. For those persons that go "bodily autonomy and consent? Never met them."

“I have a quota to make, or the boss will take it out of my salary.”

really laying on the dystopian qualities of this universe - that is very illegal in my country but I keep waiting for attempts to roll back those worker protections.

Laura is a former doctor who had her license revoked. Very reassuring. And a dedicated daughter (Janice) who would rather not know if it really works or not than see her mom depressed about not seeing patients again 🫠

Hah, to the casino for Lennier and Londo! Bizarrely, this outing might actually be good for Lennier, or at least for his wallet up until Lennier gets banned from poker for card counting.

If they keep tormenting Talia she’s gonna end up my next poor little meow meow. She is so obviously dreading this and resents being asked slash required to do it.

It will only take a minute to wipe away a person and create a new one. How chilling. How frightful to live with that power and training. What is the purpose of requiring a mind scan before the wipe? This dude is absolutely freaking me out. Talia couldn’t even do the wipe/reprogramming after being in his mind.

MULTI-DAY VIEWING BREAK (oops)

nooooooo Lennier don’t let on that you’re counting cards automatically or you gonna get shanked!

Theory: Laura is using up her own life to heal these people. Via the Alien Device. I love her sweater. I want her sweater.

Theory confirmed! Life Force Transfer Device. And how creepy/cool that she repurposed a capital punishment machine. oooof. Wonder if the machine will stick around for Dues Ex Machina later in the show.

“If there is a discovery to be made, I will make it on my own terms!”

yeah, really she’ll probably make more progress with it as her only project for the rest of her short life than Franklin will. edit: not so short! I didn't see that twist coming.

Poor Talia, once again. Are they going to have to call for another telepath or send him to Earth to be wiped and reprogrammed? I bet Bester (my!! guy!!!) would out-creep him any day.

ESCAPE ATTEMPT. He really has a will to live. Understandably so! What a horrific punishment. Absolutely many many human rights violations.

LONDO. has. TENTACLES?! I’m moving on. That’s just something else.

😬 serial killer is definitely heading to Laura’s. And probably killing her. Of course Dr Franklin went there alone! Everyone except Laurel Takashima only has a 30% chance of using the shared brain cell at any given time. Laurel has something better: common sense at all times. (I miss you Laurel my beloved and hope daily that you pop back up as a guest star.)

Pain share! yesss. Every other episode is legit a horror short story. I hope she also took every bit of his life force and used it to heal her Lake’s Syndrome. edit: fuck yea

good grief, the device does need to be studied, but by the people who charge for healing?! Really. It’s such a dystopia.

Talia and Laura should talk. I think Talia could convince her that the right and necessary things are the same in this instance. That is not a death to regret.

Lennier is genuinely too naive and generous to survive on Babylon 5. Someone’s gonna shank him.

Tentacle Secrets. I do not want to know. And yet I am being told. I think I’d be slightly more OK with tentacle Centauri if it weren’t so gendered, and *gestures broadly* LONDO. He makes everything kinda gross and sleazy by proximity.

“I am going to take a vow of silence concerning this entire conversation.”

MEEE TOOOOO LENNIER.

Hermaphrodite Passion Goddess is pretty cool, tbh.

This woman redeemed herself for losing a patient and medical license by discovering and repurposing an execution method for healing. I can’t imagine what she’ll discover as her redemption for directly killing a person will be. Perhaps a less ethically obscene panacea!

And Samuel’s got a date. Janice is cute af! I ship it.

Here be lunatics and blessed dreamers. Seekers.

#samuel franklin #janice rosen #laura rosen #talia winters #babylon 5 #woodsfae b5

[ecandjamesvpjournal]

This may throw people for a loop, but I think this is the closest to having a crossover between Doctor Who, and another series I’ve enjoyed.

What if Clara’s Trip into the Doctor’s Timeline was like Quantum Leap?

I know that sounds bugnuts, but at least hear me out before you start pulling the pitchforks and 16th-Century Flame Torches.

If anyone has watched Quantum Leap before know the premise, so you may skip this part if you’re familiar:

In Short: A human earth-bound physicist worked on a project back in the 80s that’s name changed after the events, but once it started, Project: Quantum Leap was born. Dr. Samuel Beckett (1953- ???) had a theory involving quantum physics and time travel, believing that one could time travel within their own lifetime.

He would be the first (Earth) Time Traveler to succeed where others might have failed (like Project: Tic-Toc in the 1960s [See: The Time Tunnel]). And it would work due to the sheer time and effort. However, the government doesn’t want tests, they want results, or they’ll pull funding. By that time, Dr. Beckett consults his close friend Al Calavichi, a Admiral who fought in Vietnam and went M.I.A, due to events that happened during that time (captured, but still alive).

So, pressured to lose funding, Dr. Beckett prematurely stepped into the quantum accelerator, and vanished… into the past.

It worked, but he suffered from partial amnesia (The Swiss-Cheese Effect, as some have called the condition) and he faced mirror images that were not his own. However, Dr. Beckett had help from his friend Al, where he made contact with him as a neurological hologram. Sam continues to travel within his own lifetime (and a bit before thanks to his family tree) where he puts things right that once were wrong.

Dr. Beckett hasn’t been seen since 1998 and the project probably closed down in 2001.

Later, Quantum Leap would be restarted thanks to the efforts of Dr. Ben Song in 2022/23? (Basically they continued the series, claiming it was to continue where the series last left off)

Anyways, that’s the basic premise of the series, Quantum Leap

I’m giving the same warning, If anyone has watched Doctor Who before, know the premise, so you may skip this part if you’re familiar:

In Short: The premise follows The Doctor, an ancient alien who travels in spacetime, disguised as a Police Box front the 1960s (when it isn’t an actual Police Box). The Doctor is part of a race called Gallifreyian (though that’s technically) and they’re titled as Time Lord, as they have mastery over time and space. This race of beings can outlive humans, some going as far as live to be thousands of years old. The Doctor’s vehicle, dubbed TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension in Space) allows him to travel far distances in space-time.

Most of the time, he fixes things with a sonic screwdriver (a handy tool for the traveling madman), and sometimes he doesn’t. He has different faces across all of his life, as one of the things that gives the Time Lords and Ladys their longevity, is the ability to regenerate from injury and/or near death. When they die, or come close to it, their bodies can burn and rebuild every cell in their bodies (which includes the cells that makes up the shape and structure of their bodies).

Doctor Who has been active since 1963, and took a break in 1989, with a brief movie in 1995.

So, what’s the theory?

What if Clara was leaping into the lives of the Doctor’s companions, putting things right that were wrong by the Collective Intelligence, who went back in time to cause havoc in all of The Doctor’s regenerations?

It would be interesting since the whole idea was that Clara was like that way (from previous episodes, “Asylum of the Daleks”, and “The Snowmen”) where she ends up traveling through time, similar to the Quantum Accelerator that Dr. Beckett used.

At least, that’s my theory and idea, and it would explain why some companions do what they do.

#doctor who #quantum leap #clara is basically doing a similar job to sam beckett #dr. sam beckett #clara oswald oswin #the doctor #reference #the time tunnel #reference to the time tunnel #fan theory #better than whatever mattpatt could come up with #time travel

[respiteresponse]

FAWWWKKKKKKK THE DOCTORS THOUGHT THAT DNF WERE A COUPLE IM GOING TOC RY

[expressionbean]

here is my to-do list for the next week while i sob scream and cry because of the amount of doctor's appointments and meetings i have (roleplaying is my creative outlet atm):

i'll still be replying to stuff dw! i just really wanna finish up this stuff too and keep forgetting what i have left to do ajskdgsaks

@aquaticsoul :

• add relationships to rentry

• finish the little doodle i started

• attempt to make the doodle into an icon

• make permanent interaction call

• tidy up TOC

• make proper verses page

• make new promo

• make meme page

• clear inbox

• fill queue

• update thread tracker

@restoringorder :

• finish knave's about page

• finish fungo's about page

• make icons

• make banners

• make TOC

• make permanent interaction call

• make interaction guide

• make new promo

• make tags

• make meme page

• make verses page

• clear inbox

• make thread tracker

@forgotten-teammates :

• finish falman's about page

• move breda's about page

• make more icons

• make interaction guide

• make verses page

• make new banners

• make new promo

• make tags

• make TOC

• make meme page

• clear inbox

• fill queue

• make thread tracker

[proceduralpassion]

It Would Be So Simple | 02- Past

Pairing: Horacio Carillo x OC Summary/synopsis: Horacio and Kiara have split after the disintegration of their marriage. Some time later, Horacio is alarmed when he receives word that Kiara may be missing. Chapter warning(s): mention of alcohol, hospital setting, blood mention, explosion mention, language, lightly edited WC: ~2.5K Translations at the end!

“¡Buenos días!” Kiara greeted everyone as she walked into work. Or was it school? 

Technically, she was a nursing student. Done with her pre-clinical studies, she’d been sent to carry out her clinical hours at a clinic not far from school in Bogota. She wasn’t getting paid, but it felt like a job. She’d pretty much been pushed off into the deep end when she was first sent here, feeling like she’d drown any second. She was performing the same duties and responsibilities as all the other nurses who were actually earning salaries for their work. 

It’d been a steep learning curve, but she just recently felt like she was finally coming into her own and finding a groove. It felt like she was doing exactly what she came here for, to help people, to comfort them, to heal them. 

Her place of work was something between a very large clinic or small hospital. In fact, it reminded her of the small regional hospital back in the small Midwest town where she was born and spent the first six years of her life. The same hospital where she decided she would be a nurse. Because when she had that terrible allergic reaction as a young child, it wasn’t her parents who comforted her. They were scared out of their own minds, preparing for the awful outcome that she might die. It wasn’t her older brother who comforted her. He was too busy shedding tears of guilt that he hadn’t taken her allergy more seriously. It wasn’t even the doctor who comforted her. He was as cold and sterile as the medical tray that possessed the needle and medication needed to treat her anaphylactic shock. 

It was the nurse who had carried her and placed her on the bed in the ER, taking her from her stepfather’s arms as he was barely able to remain upright himself in his fear. It was her who had allowed Kiara to squeeze her hand as another health professional placed an IV in her arm. It was her that brought her a popsicle back from the cafeteria once she had recovered and made silly faces with her as the doctor spoke to her parents about her condition. 

She’d never met that woman again, but she had changed her life.

She was the reason why she was doing what she did. 

Those first rough few days when she had no idea what she was doing and if she was truly meant for this job, Kiara thought of that woman. And reset her mind. Pulled herself together, so that she could make that woman proud. 

Graduation was still some time away, but she couldn’t wait to walk across that stage and officially live the rest of her life attempting to live up to that woman’s grace, care, and nurturing.

In the meantime though, she was relegated to simply doing whatever was asked. She put her things aside in the break area and jumped in wherever. Checking vital signs for incoming patients. Administering medications on doctor’s orders. Running back and forth to procure labs. Comforting a sullen child here. Helping an older patient with discharge papers there.

“Kiara.” The charge nurse had called for her just as she finished drawing a blood sample from an anemic patient. 

“Si, senora?”

“There’s a soldier in curtain 3. He needs wound care.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She ran the blood sample down the hall to the lab before taking off her gloves, washing her hands, and donning new gloves. She grabbed the necessary supplies and headed towards curtain 3.

“Toc toc,” she gave a joking “knock” to the curtain whilst pulling it back with a smile. 

She was met with the face of a young man, some years older than her but still young, in military fatigues and a matching fatigue cap with the title “Capitán” stitched into the fabric. Kiara wasn’t knowledgeable enough about the Colombian military to recognize his junior officer rank within the National Army. Even so, her main concern wasn’t his position but rather the aggregate of lacerations and bruises that littered his entire frame. 

Her smile transformed into a wince as her lips rattled off a hushed “Jeez!”

He merely looked at her, not communicating any kind of emotion. He remained sitting still, with the straightest of postures, not even wearing a grimace despite the amount of pain he’d had to have been feeling right about now. There were deep cuts, extensive bruises already in the early stages of forming, and more than likely a fracture or two somewhere along the confines of this body. Still, he sat calmly on the ER bed and assumedly waited for her care.

She put down the suture kit, gauze pads, and alcohol wipes on the nearby medical tray. She thought to herself that she’d probably need to go and get him ice for his swollen cheekbone.

“Te preguntaría cómo estás, pero supongo que tu cara habla por sí sola,” she commented as she swiped another look at him before pulling the medical tray closer to the bed. 

He still didn’t speak and if it wasn’t for him looking straight at her, she would’ve thought he hadn’t heard her. Her eyes moved back up to him and she scanned over his body, wondering where to start first. She looked at his fatigues and noticed that his jacket was torn some and gave sight to the green t-shirt below. She nodded to herself and figured she should probably check for internal injuries or fractures. She looked back up at him and his eyes were waiting for her. 

“Voy a tener que examinar tu cuerpo en busca de otras lesiones.”

He gave an imperceptible nod, but otherwise sat still.

She began by lightly touching all around his face, checking for any foreign material that may have been lodged in his wounds and pressing on his cheek bruise to make sure his cheek and jaw were intact. Next, she moved onto pressing on his shoulders and arms, asking for him to display his range of mobility and watching as he silently complied. It wasn’t until she pressed on his ribs that she heard him suck in a heavy gasp.

She hesitantly lifted his T-shirt and the stippling contusions she saw confirmed her suspicions of a broken rib. She nodded to herself and made a note to request one of the doctors administer pain medication for him.

She peered curiously at him and asked, “Puedo preguntar qué pasó?” 

His eyebrows furrowed at the question and Kiara figured he might not have been allowed to answer. Or maybe he simply didn’t want to. Either way, the bout of silence prompted her to continue her work as she surmised that he wasn’t going to reply. However, after several seconds passed, the man spoke.

“There was a raid near the province border. Ended in an explosion.” The man offered in English.

Kiara’s eyebrows rose both at the small tidbit of information he gave and at the fact that he spoke English to her. Though she was born in the States, she had moved to Argentina when she was seven and had lived in South America ever since. As a child, she remembers her teachers and friends switching over to English with a little frustration in their tones at her subpar vocabulary and terrible grammar. Now though, she was astutely fluent in the language and conversed in it even more than her native tongue.

She didn’t remark on his gesture or the way it made her a little self-conscious, but he spoke again a second later, “I speak it whenever I’m in contact with an American. You don’t use it, you lose it.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the unnatural way the common phrase fell on his tongue, “And how do you know I’m American?”

Maybe she was a little miffed at how he could so easily guess her nationality when she could’ve been from anywhere in the world, but she couldn’t stop the “oh” and giggle that escaped her when he tossed a blank stare and pointed at her father’s U.S. army dog tags that hung around her neck.

And even though he hadn’t asked, she explained the jewelry as she worked on patching him up,

“They were my dad’s. Never met the man, but these were waiting for me when I was born.”

Her birth father had been killed in the line of duty while her mom was pregnant with her. The piece of metal with his name and rank etched onto it was the sole piece of him that she’d ever had. For as long as she remembered, she’d been wearing it around her neck, clenching on to the only tangible tether to a man she had never shared the earth with.

“Anyway, so did you win?”

“Win?”

“The raid. You said you got hurt in a raid. So did the good guys win or the bad guys?” Horacio grimaced at the question.

Kiara sassed at him, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You look like you went a couple rounds in the ring with Tyson.. and lost. Terribly.”

Horacio deadpanned, “I was blown up.”

“Eh.” 

She beamed at him and winked, enjoying poking a bit of fun at him. Besides, if he had been truly blown up, there would be pieces of him instead of the very bruised, contused, but still put together man in front of her. He deserved a little bit of ribbing. It also didn’t hurt that he was becoming more relaxed as she continued. He wasn’t exactly laughing or smiling at her antics but she could feel the tension leave his body as she continued healing his wounds.

“So, what’s your name?”

Horacio peered up with a raised eyebrow, “You have my name,” he said as he gestured towards the clipboard with his chart information on it.

He would have taken her sigh for true exasperation if not for the smile of amusement on her face, “I know, but I’m trying to make conversation.”

Maybe half an hour ago, he wouldn’t have entertained the conversation, but her presence had begun to melt away some of the toughness in his icy exterior. Aside from the fact that he maintained a focused, disciplined persona while in the zone as a soldier, he was also agitated and in pain from being thrown from the explosion. Still, the woman who was currently disinfecting and patching up his injuries had an undeniable tether that pulled his name out of his mouth.

“Horacio.”

“Hmm, timekeeper,” she translated.

Impressed with her knowledge of the etymology of his name, the smile was on his face before he could stop it. As restrained as he’d been, it was the first time he smiled since he’d gotten to the hospital. In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn’t smiled at all today. His brain was on its way onto a mindbender as he sought for the last time he remembered himself smiling. Or happy. Instead of doing so though, he just allowed himself to bask in the now. The fact that this woman had just popped behind the emergency bay’s curtains and stirred a comfort unfamiliarity in his spirit.

Their eyes met again and she smiled with him, taking in the features of his battered yet immaculate face.

Silence permeated the space for a little while but conversation picked up again after she had returned with an ice pack for his ribs. She asked him about his time as a soldier: how long he’d been one, what he did from day to day, and the usual. He offered her what he could without getting into the deep details of the evilness and atrocities he’d already faced in the several years he’d been in the military. He told her about his position as Capitán, but explained that he was still just a junior officer and not all that high in rank, despite what his title suggested.

And sure, he wanted some of the attention off of him, but he was also genuinely curious about her own background and how she landed up in Bogota. So after he asked, he listened intently of how she was originally from a small town in Indiana, moved to Argentina when she was around seven after her stepfather accepted a United Nations position, and was later accepted into the nursing program at the National University of Colombia. He learned that she was currently finishing the last of her clinical training before her impending graduation. 

By the time the conversation had reached another loll, he was essentially all patched up. 

“Sooo, you’re like allowed off base, right? I’m assuming so since you’re here at the hospital.”

Horacio scoffed, “It’s not a prison.” Which may have been true, but really though, Horacio was almost never off base unless it involved an operation. His life revolved around being a soldier and tending to the usual basic human needs of eating and sleeping. Spending time outside the base was a rare occasion. He would have even gone to the infirmary there on campus instead of coming here, if not for his commanding officer ordering that Horacio get checked out at the nearest medical facility. 

Kiara held her hands up in defense with a grin, “I’m just saying.” She gathered up the discarded instruments and bandage wrappings to throw them in the nearby trash. “I would lie and say that I don’t have a lot of friends, but I actually do. Still, I was gonna invite you to come hang out at the rum bar later tonight. It’s down the street from here.” Though still inside, she gestured in the general direction of where the bar resided.

She could see the cogs turning in his head and immediately called him out, “You’re not seriously going to tell me they’re gonna make you continue working today after getting blown up.” The dramatic etchings in her tone as she said the words ‘blown up’ didn’t go unnoticed and he just barely caught his almost escaped laugh.

“No, probably not.”

“Well, then it’s settled,” she sassed back before softening her words, “You look like you could use a friend, Horacio. …And a drink.” Playfulness returned in her eyes after the tenderness with which she spoke and it was like he was being whipped from side to side in the softest of manners. One minute, he was fighting not to show how humorous he found her and the next, he was being entranced by the honey glow of her eyes and the compassion in her voice.

And then there was also the resolute bossiness in her, “So, I’ll see you there, soldier. No excuses.”

She left him with those words and went on to complete more of her tasks and treat other patients. The doctor had come in to see him one more time and confirm his rib fracture and instructions on how to care for it. He’d be in pain for days, probably for weeks, but he was free to take his leave.

Walking out past the curtains and into the busy space, he found her once again. Across the room holding a young child in her lap as she took the blood pressure of the baby’s grandmother.

He took a final glance at her before his gaze fragmented in space and the thoughts of his mind glided through.

The sensation of her was whimsical. 

The feeling of finding something you had never even been looking for.

A/N: So, that’s how Horacio and Kiara met! As always, please leave likes, reblogs, and comments if you enjoyed! 

Also, I feel the need to say that I have not studied/spoken Spanish since back in my college days, so I apologize in advance for any errors. I used Google Translate to help fill in the gaps for what I don’t remember but it’s kind of a sucky translator imo. 

Toc toc= Knock, knock

Te preguntaría cómo estás, pero supongo que tu cara habla por sí sola= I’d ask you how you are, but your face speaks for itself.

Voy a tener que examinar tu cuerpo en busca de otras lesiones= I’m going to need to examine your body for other injuries. Puedo preguntar qué pasó?= May I ask what happened?

Taglist: @drabbles-mc @supersanelyromantic @mysun-n-stars

#narcos #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x oc #iwbss #c: kiara nash

[anns-works]

CC!Doctor doesn't have a gender cuz TOC!Master stole it in a Dream.

#Cultured Companions #personal shitpost #personal shitposts #fanfic shitpost #fanfic shitposting #shitposts #doctor who #doctor who au #doctor who funny #doctor who shitpost #doctor who shitposts #the doctor #the master #CC Doctor #TOC Master #Travelers Of Chaos

[littlegentlmanhoards]

hi im cass i run this blog for my treasured little gentle classy space man, freddy de rolo the plague doctor among us bean <3

give me all the plague doc, steampunk, space/void and black coloured genders for freddy pls /np

Freddy's 3rdp pronouns: he/him, doc/docs, plague/plagues, plush/plushie, plush/plushself, gear/gears, solar/solars, steam/steams, wire/wires, whirr/whirrs, cog/cogs, clo/clocks, tick/tocs, tesla/coil, task/tasks, O/2, com/coms, med/bay, air/ship, po/polus, gho/ghost, crew/crews, scan/scans

Freddy's names: Freddy, Crew(mate), Doc,

Freddy's titles: the gentleman, the crewmate, lord freddy, the doctor

tags:

#steamy genders <- steampunk related

#plague genders <- plague (doctor) related

#spacey genders <- space/void genders

#misc genders

#prns <- pronouns

#freddy's asks

#hoard blog #pinned post

[nonbinarysolothian]

2B hasn't slept in several days,typical for him.

He is working in his lab when he felt weight on him.

It was his 'granddaughter' Jaeden, she just snuck in probably wanting to cuddle or something.

The doctor sighs,"Not now,beast. I'm busy."

This earned him a stern hiss and look from her.

"Typical" he thought to himself,knowing she was known for her temper and stubbornness ,but that's from her pops Hank and Red.

"Beast,please-." He was cut off, by a very familiar eye glow. It either meant she was hungry or just angry. What was worse is if it was both.

"Ya need rest. Go t' bed now." She huffed.

"No. I'm fine Beast."

In response, Jaeden pounced on him. "Sleep. Or I'll make ya." Jaeden warned.

Sighing,he rolled his eyes at her,even though he knew most of her threats weren't empty.

"I'm serious,Doc." She hissed, but it was clear she was just worried about him.

"I know. Now please let me up." He said,calmly trying to sit up.

"Go to bed and I will." She huffed again.

"I have work to do," he hissed.

"Workaholic." She thought to herself.A gurgle came from her stomach. And the thought came across her mind."Now I have a plan if he doesn't cooperate." She thought.

2BDamned heard the gurgle and glared at the Solothian. "Don't you dare,beast." He snapped,eyes narrowed out from underneath his mask.

"Go to bed and I won't."

"Let finish my work and I will."

"No Now." Jaeden grumbled."Tic toc doc." She warned.

He squirms in her grip,"HANK!!!GET YOUR KID!!!" He called,but no answer.

"He's not here,remember."

"Oh." He hissed.

Without warning he was shrunk,then tossed into his granddaughters jaws. "Jaeden!! Let  me out!!! Now!!" He shouted.

Jaeden responded with grumbles,tossing around the doc in her jaws. Covering him in drool,while tasting and teaching him a lesson.

"JAEDEN!" He screamed at her.

This was greeted by her tilting her head back. 2B slid down her tongue and towards the entrance of her throat.

"NO,BAD JAEDEN!!!!" He screamed,angrily,kicking and squirming in the tight muscle.

Jaeden traced him and his decent into her chest. Chuffing loudly,gulping him down tracing him until he plopped into her stomach.

"JAEDEN!!" Doc yelled, squirming.

"I warned ya, Doc. Now I ain't letting ya out until ya sleep fer once." She growled slightly,rubbing her gut.

Jaeden yawned. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me,Beast." He hissed,trying not to yawn himself.

"Hmm, that doesn't sound have bad." She teased, falling asleep at his chair.

"Jaeden! Wake up and let me out!" He snapped.

No response,only her quiet snores and chuffs.

"Ugh. Great. The Beast is asleep and I'm stuck in here." He huffed,before laying down and letting himself fall asleep for once.

#mawdness combat #safe vore #soft vore #v0re #unwilling prey

[la-semillera]

Wislawa Szymborska & Amélie Joos

Primera fotografía de Hitler

¿Y QUIÉN ES ESTE NIÑO con su camisita? Pero ¡si es Adolfito, el hijo de los Hitler! ¿Tal vez llegue a ser un doctor en leyes? ¿O quizá tenor en la ópera de Viena? ¿De quién es esta manita, de quién la orejita, el ojito, la naricita? ¿De quién la barriguita llena de leche? ¿No se sabe todavía? ¿De un impresor, de un médico, de un comerciante, de un cura? ¿A dónde irán estos graciosos piecitos, a dónde? ¿A la huerta, a la escuela, a la oficina, a la boda tal vez con la hija del alcalde?

Cielito, angelito, corazoncito, amorcito, cuando hace un año vino al mundo, no faltaron señales en cielo y en la tierra: un sol de primavera, geranios en las ventanas, música de organillo en el patio, u presagio favorable envuelto en un fino papel de color rosa. Antes del parto, su madre tuvo un sueño profético: ver una paloma en sueños, será una buena noticia; capturarla, llegará un visitante largamente esperado. Toc, toc, quién es, así late el corazón de Adolfito.

Chupete, pañal , babero, sonaja, el niño, gracias a Dios, está sano, toquemos madera, se parece a los padres, al gatito en el cesto, a los niños de todos los demás álbumes de familia. Ah, no nos pondremos a llorar ahora, ¿verdad?, mira, mira, el pajarito, ahora mismo lo suelta el fotógrafo.

Atelier Klinger, Grabenstrasse, Braunen, y Braunen no es una muy grande, pero es una digna ciudad, sólidas empresas, amistosos vecinos, olor a pastel de levadura y a jabón de lavar.

No se oye el aullido de los perros, ni los pasos del destino. El maestro de la historia se afloja el cuello y bosteza encima de los cuadernos.

- Wislaba Zsymborska.“Poesía no completa”. Fondo de Cultura Económica Traducción de Abel Murcia y Gerardo Beltrán

#wislawa szymborska #amélie joos

[lubay-nue]

Oculto tras la Mentira 3

Notas del cap:

Siguiente parte solo porque si

¡A leer!

Capitulo 3

—He vuelto —suspira cansado el German entrando en su casa y volviendo a sentarse en su sofá para repetir su ahora, nueva rutina— sigo sin encontrar algún tipo de pista, pero algo me dice que estoy cercas —suspira con cierto cansancio y frustración, apartando sus lentes de su rostro y tallando su rostro con algo de frustración— hoy, pasadas las ocho de la noche, hubo un repentino apagón que altero a los pacientes tranquilos; hubo un caos bastante complicado de controlar y he debido de quedarme mas tiempo del necesitado

Se explica, poniéndose de pie y arrastrando los pies hacia su refrigerador. En esta ocasión solo toma algo para recalentar y una vez listo, se dirige a la mesa para comer con cierto fastidio notando que en esta ocasión, faltaban minutos para que se hiciera la una de la madrugada

—Me parece extraño que una institución mental no posea auxiliares de electricidad y también... —susurra, pasando el bocado y mirando fijamente hacia su plato de comida— no veo que sea relevante pero… quiero informar que parece haber la presencia de un pequeño niño countryhumans —habla, guardando silencio poco después entre la duda y sus propias cavilaciones— aun no puedo encontrar al niño pero, no puedo descubrir si son solo “alucinaciones en conjunto” que tienen los pacientes o si realmente existe semejante niño en las instalaciones —suspira, haciendo su cabello hacia atrás— hoy, durante el apagón, juraría que he visto en persona al niño entrar a mi oficina y ocultarse dentro de un armario. Tras correr para corroborar que el niño estaba bien —un silencio pesado, gruñidos y jadeos de parte de Alemania y finalmente, con frustración, termina de hablar— el niño había desaparecido

—Se que no es posible y que, lo mas seguro tal vez seria que el niño sabia sobre algún tipo de mecanismo que abre alguna puerta secreta pero, por mas que investigue en ese momento, no pude encontrar nada que me guiara al niño —se levanto y lavó los trates usados— ahora incluso yo dudo si el niño es real o solo imaginación mía influenciada por mi entorno… fin del reporte del día de hoy

---------------

—Buenos días —saluda Alemania con cierto cansancio en su voz. Ayer, pese al agotamiento, por algún motivo, le había costado trabajo dormir y hoy, apenas con una hora de sueño encima, se sentía lento y pesado, pero, su cansancio se vio acabado tras descubrir en recepción que ya no estaba el country albino, sino que esta vez, había un adolescente de tal vez 16 o 17 años viéndolo con cierta sorpresa

—Buenos días doctor —saluda el adolescente con un rostro confundido— ¡ha! Por favor, si pudiera firmar su hora de entrada por favor —pide de un modo nervioso pero amable el tricolor. Alemania obedece, observando curioso al tricolor que trata de sonreír amable

—¿No eres muy joven para trabajar aquí? —pregunta mientras anota su nombre y hora de entrada— ¿Dónde esta Nueva España?

—Su nombre es México, señor Alemania —se hace sonar la voz de la mujer haciendo a ambos countrys pegar un brinco y dirigir su mirada hacia la mujer que va entrando a la sala de esperas siendo acompañada por Nueva España unos pasos detrás— es… mi hijo adoptivo y estará trabajando como enfermero y recepcionista— explica la mujer ante todos los presentes. Alemania ha podido observar como el tricolor baja la mirada intimidado y sumiso mientras que Nueva España continua leyendo y apuntando cosas en los documentos que trae, ignorando al completo la situación que se presenta

Alemania no dice nada, solo vuelve la mirad al adolescente y le tiende la mano para presentarse y saludar. Al ver el tacto entre ambos, el adolescente parece sonreír de un modo mas animado y seguro de si mismo

… … …

Toc toc toc

—Adelante —permite Alemania terminando de escribir en un documento los nuevo avances con su ultimo paciente del momento

—Con su permiso doctor —escucha la voz del adolescente entrando con una bandeja entre sus manos— pensé que tendría un poco de hambre, así que le he traído algo para picar mientras espera por la hora de la comida —sonríe radiante el tricolor, dejando la bandeja con un vaso lleno de frutas, otro vaso de yugurt y unas galletas puestas en un pequeño platito

—Muchas gracias México —corresponde Alemania tomando una galleta y observando al latino que, entre pequeñas risas discretas y amables, desvía la mirada un segundo. Alemania también había logrado ver por el rabillo de su ojo algo que se movía de un extremo de la puerta hacia otro muro. Y Alemania también vio perfectamente que ambos habían girado la mirada para ver lo que se había movido

—Tu también viste al niño ¿Verdad? —pregunta México para sorpresa de Alemania quien asiente, México baja la mirada y, desapareciendo su alegría, solo muestra una sonrisa nerviosa— s-sea como sea, me dijeron que no debía de hablarlo así que… no le molesto mas doctor

—Espera México —intenta detenerlo, pero el latino sale corriendo, cerrando tras de si y dejando a Alemania en total soledad… ¿Qué había sido eso?

------------

El reloj marcaba las once de la noche, la puerta abriéndose y cerrándose dan anuncio a que su ocupante ha entrado y, con la misma rutina de siempre, se deja caer pesadamente en el sofá, suspirando con agotamiento

«Bien dicen que la primera semana de un nuevo empleo siempre es pesado» se dijo, soltando un cansado bostezo— Informe de la misión —habla en cuanto cree que ha recuperado algo de su claridad mental— he podido encontrar un lapso de tiempo en que puedo investigar la oficina de la directora pero no creo encontrar nada relevante en sus documentos, mi investigación preliminar continua reafirmándome que es solo una fachada y no es utilizada la oficina en realidad mas que para aparentar —habla, poniéndose en pie, quintando su corbata y dirigiéndose al refrigerador de nuevo

—Espinacas… —gruñe con un gesto de desagrado, no le gustaban las espinacas pero, tras un suspiro y sus ojos rodando con fastidio, lleva la comida al fuego para prepararlos. Carraspea un poco y continua hablando— también he descubierto que solo una muy limitada cantidad de personas autorizadas parecen tener acceso a una sección del hospital —su voz se ve interrumpida por un quejido de estomago revuelto a punto de vomitar luego de probar el primer bocado. Alemania desvía la vista y se dirige al refrigerador para tomar otra cosa y prepararla, dejando abandonado el platillo que había querido hacer antes— ¿Puedo pedir la próxima vez que no hayan espinacas? —pregunta incomodo, negando y tratando de respirar hondamente para continuar con su informe— como sea —carraspea—; del limitado personal que he podido observar que tiene acceso, se encuentra uno de los countryhumans de nombre Nueva España y la directora, además de dos camilleros, una enfermera y otro enfermero

Consigue hacerse unos macarrones con queso y una pechuga que encuentra y se dirige a sentarse para comer. Con un suspiro de alivio también se ha servido una copa de vino para acompañar y, tras sentirse mas calmo de su estomago, comienza a comer mientras continúa dando su informe

—Deduzco que podría encontrar las respuestas que estoy buscando en ese lugar pero… me tomara tiempo poder abrirme camino hacia ellas —susurra, dando un trago a su bebida y observándose a través del tinte rojo del vino— hoy se ha sumado al personal un adolescente de tan solo 16 años, un countryhumans muy similar al niño que creí ver en dos ocasiones —responde con un tono mas apagado— soy consciente que entre los countryhumans pueden haber varios tipos de banderas que se pueden confundir entre si por su similitud, pero —hubo un momento de silencio, Alemania negó y dio otro bocado a su comida— algo luce sospechoso entre ese niño y la directora. Honestamente, no pienso que sea el tipo de mujer que adoptaría a otro ser vivo y la personalidad del chico para con la mujer me parece… extraño —toma otro bocado y suspira— no veo que sea algo relevante con mi investigación pero… tengo una corazonada. Seguiré investigando

Ha terminado su comida y se pone en pie para repetir su misma rutina de todos los días. En cuanto termina de lavar sus trastes sube la mirada al techo

—Ho. Mañana es mi día de descanso —recuerda para si

Notas finales:

Ahora si, puede que estos capítulos sean lentos y vayan como tortuga, pero puedo asegurar que el capitulo que viene, será intenso y sin necesidad de que haya acción, de verdad, dejara a muchos con la boca abierta y en especial, con la sensación de que hay spoilers de los gordos en todo este asunto… aunque algunos no lo van a parecer del todo ¬u¬ hehe… bueno, no lo hago mas largo por ahora XD

¿Les ha gustado?

Que tengan lindo día

¡Comenten!

Esto no es verdad… pero, solo pongámoslo así… ¬u¬ ¿Y si este fic, es en realidad lo que ocurre dentro de la Saga, y todo lo que hemos visto dentro de la saga en realidad es producto de la mente de alguno de los personajes presentados? Que se yo… tal vez México, tal vez Alemania… tal vez Nueva España ¬u¬ tal vez hasta Urss… yo digo, quien sabe XD pienso que esto seria un giro de tuerca de esos como los giros de cabeza del exorcista original XD que hartas ganas me dan de decir que este fic es canon XD pero no…

Solo quiero dejarlos con la cosquilla ¬u¬ porque yo tampoco me la puedo quitar XD

#Oculto tras la Mentira #countryhumans #countryhumans Alemania #Nazi #Mexica #España #Urss #Uk #Azteca #México #Mictlan #Rusia #USA #Experimentos #Gore #Tortura #+18 #Violencia #Psiquiatricos #Mis Fanfics Yaoi