preserved body

So I’ve been wondering about Gérard Lacroix in Overwatch. All they’ve really said about him was that he was supposed to be the best. Just the best. And he was the guy spearheading operations against Talon. But if he was the best why was he not considered for Strike Commander over Jack or Gabe?

Also I’m hoping that his body was preserved after death. Because I’d love to see Gérard and Amelie become the Morticia and Gomez Addams of Overwatch. Find some excuse to bring him back. I don’t care if he’s with Talon or he simply just wants to be with his wife.

Lastly I want a wedding dress skin for Widowmaker. Gabe and Jack can have differently styled tuxes to be Groomsmen. Ana and Mercy get to be bridesmaids.

stormy nights || stiles stilinski (smut )

word count: 3550

prompt: my smut for lacrosse week!

warnings: smut, swearing

author’s note: this is my first solo smut and i hope you guys like it! let me know if i should keep writing smut. please leave feedback on this!

masterlist

coming soon

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Follow the Light ~ Season 13 coda

After the season 12 finale, I got the urge to write. So I wrote this coda. I needed to get my feels out! So here’s some sadness with a bitter sweet ending :) Hope y'all like it.

Read here on Ao3


It’s not what he expected at first. The pain. Dean had always known death was painful, but this was different.


It wasn’t like Sam’s or Bobby’s or anyone else’s. It was empty, hollow and utterly numb.


The first week was a blur. No, more like a buzz. The buzz of alcohol, the buzz of voices around him, the buzz of his mind as it tried to handle the situation.


He knew Cas needed to be buried. Sam insisted on a pyre but Dean reeled at the thought. Cas, burning. He’d already seen that once.


Dean remembered crying silently, in the darkness of his room. He didn’t want Sam to see — to see how not okay he was. He’d finally cracked one night when, at Dean’s insistence, they cast a preservation spell on Cas’s body. The tears had flowed then, endlessly streaking his face and reddening his already tired eyes. And sleep didn’t help, and neither did drinking. Nothing would.


Cas was dead.

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Natsu FT 520

The first thing I want to point out is that END has not gone. I doubt it. Natsu’s anxiety made him question his identity. As we all know, when you question your existence in life things start to go wrong. In Natsu’s case, I’m guessing both powers will take a lot of will-power to control. Standard dragon slayer attacks cause Natsu to partially transform, so when going ‘all out’ and Natsu being very instinctual (he lives in the moment and emotion) then anything disrupting the delicate balance between these powers is devastating to his body. 

Natsu’s body is still a demon because his human body was killed, his slayer magic added further transformation. That is a lot going on in one body. So when Igneel say’s Natsu is a human, I believe he is talking about Natsu’s soul. Acnologia rejected his human side and still does, believing it to be a weakness when actually it’s his heart, his conscience. If Natsu chose anything other than being human, it would have meant Natsu choosing power over anything else.

Natsu’s physical essence is still tied to the book, he was still hurt by Zeref shooting the book of END, even when Natsu didn’t believe him (and was confident in himself). Perhaps now Natsu accepts who he is entirety, if Zeref destroys the book then dragon mutation will preserve his body, enabling him to live. 

To solidify my point, if the destruction of the seeds meant the elimination of that power, then Natsu wouldn’t be able to use his dragon slayer magic. He can. 

“Sorry for not believing in you“

(A/N): I‘ve always wanted to write a soulmate AU, so this is a big deal for my crippling author career. Enjoy x 

Words: 2,062

Originally posted by tylerandthejosephs

The air is like frozen lace on your skin, delicate and cold. The sky is washed with grey, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. That special cold and pale light, only the winter‘s sun can give, makes everything glow with slippery ice. It‘s the perfect day for staying home but sadly, you had to work today. You‘re seated at the bus stop with both arms crossed over your chest, hugging your body, as if that could provide you with some kind of warmth. 

All of sudden you see a woman getting dragged by her poodle towards another dog owner across the street and as expected, they collide. The man has lost his hat due to the incident, causing a royal blue strand on his head to become visible and remarkably stand out from the rest of his hair. Instantly noticing the phenomenon, the lady lets a loud gasp escape her lips and urgently draws the guy‘s attention to her streak of hair, that coincidentally has the exact same pigment as his. The next thing that happens is acted out just like in the movies, the lovers jump into each other‘s arms and share a passionate kiss as they pull away. At the same time, the royal blue pieces of hair from each one of them loose their colour and blend into the rest. Eventually, it seems like the scenery has turned out to be the complete opposite of a simple coincidence. Oh, the things you‘d do to finally experience the same spectacle…When will it finally be your turn to find your soulmate?

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Sidlink Drabble: Size (Doesn’t) Matter

Um first of all, I really love @dratinimartini‘s Big King n Tiny King au they got going on and wanted to write something for it. I got their permission don’t worry.

Anyway this is dedicated to @rosypumpkinstudios​ because they are so swell o/


“I’m sorry, Link,” Sidon muttered as he gazed down at Zora’s Domain from his throne. When he heard an inquisitive hum from his right shoulder, the Zora king leaned back into his chair and crossed his hands together. “I know I explained it over and over…but I still feel guilt. Part of me hoped I wouldn’t grow as large as my father was…” A sigh escaped his lips before he could contain it and he bit against his bottom lip.

He risked a brief glance to the Hylian perched on his shoulder and frowned. Link had barely changed throughout the years–literally. Perhaps it was the effects of the Shrine of Resurrection preserving his body for over a hundred years, but Link had barely aged considering how many years had passed since he and Sidon quelled Vah Ruta. The only major difference between then and the present was how long Link had grown his hair out, the regal and flowing silky blue coattails he wore, and the silver chains, necklaces, and bangals decorating his upper half. And of course, the golden crown fitted with a Zora sapphire resting atop his head.

Link cocked an eyebrow and slid down Sidon’s shoulder, towards his forearm and skillfully sat against the muscle of his husband’s arm. He gazed up at Sidon with a knowing, slanted smile and immediately shook his head.

“I’m being serious, Link. I completely understand if you…” His voice trailed off and he winced. “What I mean to say is, I…Are you happy with this? We aren’t able to embrace each other as we once did. Not to mention, it can be very hard for me to leave the Domain if we wanted to have some private time.” A guilty pang appeared on Sidon’s face. “Let alone the fact that intimacy between us is…complicated.”

Link rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“I still love you as much as I did the first time I ever saw you…but if being my husband ever becomes too much for you, my sweet–”

Link guffawed and immediately cut Sidon off. He waved Sidon closer with the crook of his fingers. He reached out to the edge of Sidon’s forehead and soothing ran his hands along the coarse skin. He pecked several affectionate kisses along Sidon’s crest. Link hummed as he then nuzzled his face into the Zora’s skin and moved the trail of kisses down against the rim of Sidon’s eyes and arrived at his cheek.

“Oh, my pearl,” Sidon whispered softly and ran the tip of his finger back down the Hylian’s head. He stopped when it hovered along the curve of Link’s back and rested it there. “I love you so much.” Carefully, calculated, Sidon pressed a single kiss against Link’s head.

Link giggled and slowly pulled away. He reclined against the groove of Sidon’s arm and smiled up at the Zora king. Link looked so handsome–so breathtaking–dressed in the Zora garb and he really did belong there in Zora’s Domain with Sidon; despite the differences between them now.

“How about after the Embassador from Hyrule Castle comes, we go swim in the Reservoir Lake?” Sidon suggested as he gingerly poked Link’s bare gut, stirring a mixture of a gasp and a cackle from his husband. “They should be here by the end of the hour.”

Link immediately smiled and nodded.

Sidon’s heart melted at the sight and it only reminded him why he loved Link so much.

i had a patient with stage 3 rectal cancer and severe cachexia. she weighed about 34kgs. she had ascites so she looked about 9 months pregnant. but her little arms, oh she was so tiny. and full of rectal tumours which made her constipated. she was quite an alternative lady, she lived a natural lifestyle and appreciated esoteric arts like astrology. she was palliative care. doctors gave her months at most, likely weeks. we had long talks. she was so compacted in her bowl it was quite horrible. so we suggested aperients. natural ones. pineapple juice i said. and she replied, ‘pineapple juice? i dont know, doesn’t that have a lot of sugar and preservatives?’. and you think, oh, does it so much matter? don’t you want comfort? realistically, you are going to die soon. but this was such a lesson to me, some people i guess would say it’s ignorant, and despite my initial reaction something larger swept over me, something i think is important. that people have to stay true to themselves, and when we are approaching something like death, how can we judge? this lady had lived by her lifestyle, it made her feel good, it was who she was. how could you deny somebody this in their last moments on earth? it was the person she was, something she believed in, and who was i, or any health care provider for that matter to tweak her personality for some final weeks. yes she had the chemicals of chemotherapy running through her. but she went to heaven without those additives and preservatives, cancer destroyed her body but not her spirit, the essence of who she was, a tiny example, but something if we watch closely enough in others should be so admired 

2

Born in 1880, Elmer McCurdy was an infamous outlaw, but interestingly enough, his fame didn’t come until his death.

McCurdy ran away from home at the young age of 15, working odd jobs and developing a heavy drinking habit along the way. Eventually he joined the military and ended up leaving with an honorable discharge. Once out of the military and not knowing what to do to take care of himself, McCurdy used his military expertise in nitroglycerin to become a train robber. McCurdy did not have the best luck as a thief, using too much nitroglycerin to blow up the train safes and actually melting the money in the safe, other times, he chose the wrong trains and ended up netting little to nothing from his robbery excursions. But the fairly unsuccessful train robberies were short lived, as less than a year into it, he was wanted by the police for a robbery, with a $2000 reward in place for turning him in. McCurdy was turned in and woke up to 3 sheriffs and a group men trying to capture him. That turned into a shootout between McCurdy and the group, and McCurdy ended up being shot to death. Normally, that’s where the tale would end, but not in Elmer McCurdy’s case!

McCurdy’s body was subsequently taken to a funeral home, where it went unclaimed. The undertaker embalmed McCurdy with an arsenic based preservative, used at that time to preserve a body for a long period of time. And then the mortician decided as no one claimed the body, he would put it on display to the public and charge them to see it. He dressed the corpse, put a rifle in his hands and stood it up in the corner of the funeral home and allowed visitors to view McCurdy, charging 5 cents a person.

After several years and the undertaker making quite a bit of money off of the attraction, a man paid him a visit claiming to be McCurdy’s brother. For whatever reason, the undertaker bought the story and released McCurdy’s body to the alleged brother. The fake brother was actually a carni who worked for a traveling circus.

A few weeks after obtaining the corpse, it was put on display as a “freak show”. Initially, McCurdy’s corpse was known as “Oklahoma’s outlaw mummy”. After some time, the circus, along with the corpse, were passed along to several different new owners and with that, the history of McCurdy was lost and he became a fun house prop, with carnival owners and visitors alike just assuming he was a creepy prop.

Years went by and a television crew was set up to film inside of a funhouse and MCCurdy’s corpse was displayed on set. Someone was moving him around and an appendage came off of his body, revealing it to be a real corpse. He was then taken to a coroners office and identified as Elmer McCurdy and shipped back home to Oklahoma, where a funeral was held for him. In April 1977, Elmer McCurdy’s body was buried at the Summit View Cemetery in Guthrie, Oklahoma.

Once, Mummification Was Only For Monarchs

During the Old Kingdom in ancient Egypt, from 2575 to 2130 BCE, mummifying was a royal affair. There was one team of embalmers who worked for the pharaoh. They mummified only the pharaoh’s family members, courtiers, and officials who had been granted the special privilege of having their body preserved. Everyone below royalty would bury their family members in the desert. The dry sand would naturally dry out and mummify the body.

In fact, pre-Old Kingdom, that was how everyone was buried! And around this time, beliefs developed that a person’s spirit and personality needed a preserved, whole body. It was the only way for a person to be reborn into the afterlife. But when pharaohs and high officials started wanting to be buried in elaborate caskets and tombs, separating the bodies from the ground prevented natural mummification. So they developed techniques to allow royal bodies to be preserved then placed in their tombs, so their spirits could still recognize their bodies and be joyfully reborn.

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to a friend of mine and she told me she wanted to try to develope a positive attitude so bad but she just didn’t know how to do it and she aske me some advices based on my personal experience. I thought it may be interesting so I wrote down some of them!

  •  Be grateful. I know this sounds stupid and overrated but I promise it does help. Sometimes the world seems too much, sometimes our life, our work are just overwhelming and sometimes it just appear like only annoying things can occur. When it happens to me i try to calm down and focus on great things that happened to me: it doesn’t have to be something huge but it has to be something which is important to me. I usually focus on my academic classes, on the fact that I’ve realized my dream to study literature, on the fact that I went through bad stuff in the pas years but I survived all of them and I’m here stronger than ever.
  •  Make lists. A good way to force myself remembering things is just sit down, open a notebook and write stuff down, moreover it is pretty pleasing (at least to me) because your thoughts don’t vanish but stay down there, on the paper and you can phisically see the list grow.
  •  Look on the bright sight. I’m not saying “be optimistic even tho you’re an incurable pessimistic” because, clearly, you can’t do it. This is something I’ve learnt recently and it’s mainly about giving up on that pessimistic attitude that leads you always saying “no,….” / “my life sucks, infact…..” or even “look at x, how lucky they are, they don’t deserve that and I won’t ever be like them”. Give up on self-pity. I know it does look like everone else is happier, luckier, cuter, nicer sometimes but it does not mean you can’t be like that yourself! I know such an attitude is natural for some people but you can work it out and achieve such a goal youself.
  •  Self care is important. Buy yourself body lotions, go out for a walk or a bike ride, remember to eat veggies and fruits once in a while, read a book, fill your bath with bubbles, talk to your friends or to your family: do easy things that may help you preserve your body and mind health. Taking care of ourselves is essential because it is our way to say to our body and mind “it’s ok, I love you and I wanna make you feel I’m grateful”. I guess this is the hardest point because I tend to forget it sometimes, like when I’ve got quite some things to do.

BE HAPPY

anonymous asked:

How they could have made the CS wedding good and set up for a 7th season: When Hook starts his vows about how he had wanted his revenge until he met Emma he then says “and I still do” or “and you gave me a way to get it”. In the moment that everyone is confused by his words he sticks his hook into Emma’s chest and rips out her heart. Hook then disappears into the crowd and escapes. CS is now a cautionary tale and it gives OUAT the big twist that they never manage to actually pull off. (1/6)

We find out that Hook had broken into Regina’s vault, and going through Cora’s things found a potion that allowed him to enchant his to steal a heart again. He could also be getting help from the black fairy or she could not exist in this storyline. Hook knows that the only way to kill Gold is to be in a land without magic. He also needs to make sure that none of the heroes will be able to save Gold once he’s without magic. (2/6)

So Hook uses Emma’s heart to cast the dark curse. Without their memories and magic it will be easy for him to kill Gold. From here there are two ways this story can go: 1. Emma actually is dead. She stays dead. That is why JMO could leave. 2. After Emma’s heart is crushed, everyone panics and notices the Large Purple Cloud of DoomTM coming towards them. Regina casts a preservation spell on Emma’s body, like she did with Daniel’s, before the curse overtakes them. (3/6) 

Season 7 unfolds with Henry finding the book and either getting his memories back, or just believing in it like in s1. He goes around town recruiting the other heroes to help him break the curse. Of course they do and magic returns to Storybrooke. (Gold could be dead in this version, since the writers seem to not know what to do with him anymore; or it could be a Belle and Gold true loves kiss that breaks this curse) They find Emma’s preserved body in Regina’s vault. (4/6)   

Henry plans to use split his heart to save Emma. Which won’t work because Regina put a spell on Henry to stop anyone from being able to remove his heart after Neverland (a nice throwback to something that seemed really important but was never mentioned again). Eventually Regina decides that she’s not going to let Emma go like this, not after everything they’ve been through, and splits her own heart to give to Emma. (5/6) 

It works! Emma is snapped out of the waking coma she’s been in for seasons & we get the old Emma back. Regina, Emma, and Henry defeat Hook (6/6)  

that relies on the person H00k loves most not being itself, but other than that, yeah it would have made a TON more sense than what they did. alas. 

Knock Knock isn’t really a classic version of the misunderstood monster-of-the-week. This isn’t Hide. It isn’t Time Heist. It’s not even The Pilot. While Knock Knock’s resolution broadly follows the same pattern in that its turning point include an emotional speech and the survival of all our heroes, at its core, there’s still a truly dark story there.

Six people have been murdered every 20 years. A man, now grown up, is clinging to his mother with all the devotion of a child. It’s destructive, deadly. He has nothing but empty words for those who he methodically leads to their deaths in “necessary” sacrifice.  There’s a glimpse of light there, of letting go, of new experiences, but ultimately, the Landlord isn’t able or willing to follow it. He only chooses more violence and it ends in more death, Eliza’s and his. The old house crumbling at last, as this story concludes.

Twelve people died and stayed dead, to keep Eliza preserved, her body turned into wood, her memories fading. The only thing that offers some redemption is that it has to end, that this cannot go on. To empathise and understand the Landlord does not make his actions any less horrific. And does not gain him anything but - maybe - peace, at last.

anonymous asked:

Ship, did you know that the act of embalming bodies was popularized by Abraham lincoln, because he died and was embalmed, and then was carted around the country on a train so everyone could see him. THey couldn't help but think "wow, he looks fresh. I want that for my loved ones when they die" and thus embalming became a thing. (it's not even necessary refrigeration does just as well to preserve bodies before a funeral)

Yeah! It’s ridiculous. We think of modern embalming as “traditional” when it’s really only a few lifetimes old. It was convenient for transporting fallen soldiers during the Civil War, but before that, embalming really wasn’t a western practice, and cultures that did embalm did so with natural materials.

And like… embalming doesn’t prevent decomposition, it just delays it significantly and makes it less efficient.

anonymous asked:

zombie "apocalypse" au: matt was infected but everyone else in team theorist lets the infection spread on him for some reason; now he's a shy+possibly harmless zombie that likes to chew lightly on steph's ear, and now the group is wondering what to do with him (kill him, keep him, or let him go).

“I mean, he’s pretty harmless at the moment.” Chris whispered and gestured helplessly to the zombie currently standing in the corner of the dilapidated stream room and chew on the foam padding. Jason and Stephanie exchanged a look and shrugged. “He hasn’t attacked us by now.” She agreed. The three peeked over the upturned table they were currently hiding behind to watch Matthew. He had abandoned his snack and was shuffling slowly around the room, groaning lowly. “That might be because he doesn’t know we’re here.” Jason pointed out.

He sighed and looked at the other two. “Look, I don’t want to be the one to say it, but… maybe we should…” Jason trailed off and adjusted his grip on the broken off table leg he was holding. “You just want an excuse to bludgeon Matt to death.” Chris accused him and peeked at the zombie once more. Now Matthew was standing in the middle of the room looking lost, like he was looking for something. “We should just let him go, he can go find a zombie herd and graze and frolic or whatever it is undead hellspawn do.”

Stephanie shook her head. “He seems docile. Maybe he’s still Matthew?” She suggested and, before the other two men could stop her, she stood and stepped out from behind the table. “Matthew? Matt honey, it’s Stephanie. Do you remember m-” Her gentle words were cut off by a loud, delighted sounding groan from Matthew as he shambled over to his wife (widow? Stephanie wasn’t sure exactly) and slumped his head on her shoulder.

“Woah, okay hey there!” She gasped and grabbed his arms. She could feel him… purring? Groaning? Humming? Against her neck as he shuffled even closer to her. “You’re affectionate, aren’t you? There’s my Matthew.” Steph soothed and let him wrap his arms around her. “I… I guess he’s friendly?” Chris asked as he and Jason popped out from behind their barricade. “Guess we’re keeping him then.” Steph agreed and tried not to laugh at the feeling of Matt’s lips tickling her throat. “Even when he’s fucking dead he’s still being a sappy little nerd.” Jason groaned, rolling his eyes.

The Dark Brotherhood worships and reveres the Dread Father Sithis and the Void, with the Unholy Matron, the Night Mother, being his bride. 

When someone performs the Black Sacrament, the Night Mother is informed of their intentions, and the location of the client is relayed to the Listener, who then relays that information to the four Speakers. The Speakers then assign assassins to the contracts to be completed.

Together, the Listener and the Speakers form the Black Hand, the ruling body of the Dark Brotherhood: four fingers and a thumb. 

Silencers are assassins who are not bound to any sanctuary and answer directly to the Speakers. They perform particularly dangerous or sensitive contracts and missions, and are akin to the nails or talons of the Black Hand. 

The Keeper is a special position instituted by the Black Hand in the event of the Night Mother’s death. The Keeper is charged with taking care of the Night Mother’s corpse to preserve her body and retain her spirit on Tamriel, so she can continue to accept contracts and relay information to the Listener.