rain military

anonymous asked:

Hi there! I'm hoping to write a story about a woman combat medic, and have multiple questions. I know this is a combat position, and women were only recently accepted to those, so where would she most likely be stationed? Would she spend more time in battles or in hospitals? Are combat medics (68Ws?) more likely to develop PTSD? What are more common positions for women? How easy is it for combat medics, once they leave the military, to become EMTs? Are there any common misconceptions? Thanks!

I always want to provide the best answers here that I can, so I’m thrilled to announce the first guest post of @ginger-wuv​, a fantastic female medic who’s graciously agreed to tackle this ask. This is some grade A stuff, so I hope you all enjoy and give Doc Rain some kudos if you like it! -Kingsley

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Intertwined [LuNyx]

FFXV RARE PAIRS WEEK—DAY 5: HOLDING HANDS

SHIP: Luna/Nyx

WORD COUNT: 2193

RATING: T

@ffxvrarepairsweek


All I know—
All I ever needed to know— 
Is that if you offered me your hand
I would take it…

He stared at her hand, outstretched towards him like an offering. A simple gesture yet it confused the glaive. Not only that, but the goofy grin which graced her lips only further fueled his puzzlement.

“What’s wrong Nyx?” the royal highness herself was quick to question. “Never seen a hand before?”

The said male looked up from the hand to the princess. Her eyes—painted with heaven’s blues— held a soft and gaze, enough to make the heart of a hardened soldier melt.

“It’s not that, your highness.” the glaive replied. “I’m just confused on why you’re showing it to me…”

Lunafreya laughed, sweet and joyous like a harmonious melody entering his ears. The glaive could just feel himself swoon a little more for the song of her laughter.

“When a girl shows you her hand, my dear glaive. It means she wants you to hold it.”

His eyes widened upon hearing her proposal. “What?” he blinked. Did the princess really just ask him to… “You want me…to hold your hand, your highness?” he asked again. Am I hearing things?

The princess nodded curtly, a gesture to show that he was indeed correct. “I want you to hold my hand, Nyx Ulric.” she said again.

So I’m not hearing things. Yet the confusion on his face still remain fixed. Lunafreya did not fail to notice the deep furrow of his brow.

“What? Never held a girl’s hand before?”

“What? No. I’ve held a girl’s hand before.” Nyx was quick to answer. “But, I can’t be holding hands with you, your highness.” He hoped that his rejection would make the princess retreat her hand. But it remained unmoved from where she had outstretched it towards him.

“Is it because I’m a princess, Nyx?” Lunafreya asked. “You know, princess or not, I’m still a girl.”

“Of course you’re still a girl, your highness.” Nyx sheepishly brought his hand to the back of his neck. She was stubborn, he knew a simple reason wouldn’t make her give up. “But this is against my orders. I’m supposed to escort you, not hold your hand while doing so.”

“Well, if you’re so insistent on following order, Sir Ulric.” A smirk pulled at her lips. “Then I order you to hold my hand.”

Nyx froze. He knew this was coming. God, from a mile away he could see her schemes through that smirk. Yet, he still fell for it, head over heels for her charm. But an order was an order. And as a glaive, Nyx was taught from day one to never defy them—especially if they came from the princess. The glaive breathed in a sharply. His eyes slowly averted to her hand still outstretched in waiting. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from his neck. His finger began to tremble and palms were growing sweaty as they reached closer to her own. It wasn’t like the glaive had never held her hand before. He had held those delicate fingers upon his own in many occasions when he was to give them a kiss. But what the princess was asking of him, this was so much more than just courteous kisses of welcome.

“Not like that.” Lunafreya giggled.

Nyx was holding her hand like she asked. But only by the tip of her fingers like the courteous guard he was.

“Like this.” She pulled her hand away from his grip only to take hold of his own once more, this time lacing her fingers with his—soft and warm was the the skin upon his palm. Giving them a squeeze for good measure, she looked back up at the glaive with a smile. “That’s how you hold hands, Nyx.”

Ears began to grow warm, and the tips began to glow with a soft red at the close contact they were sharing. He just hoped the princess couldn’t feel his sweaty fingers laced with hers. “P-People are going to see us, your highness.” he was stammering, an uncommon thing to hear from a mighty glaive like he.

Lunafreya laughed again, taking notice of the glaives clear embarrassment. “Then let them see. They ought to know that the hero finally got his girl.

She was teasing him now. But Nyx couldn’t help but a crack a smirk.

Lifting her hand intwined his, he placed a kiss on her fingers.

“I’m just following orders, your highness.”


Hysterical cries and screams, accompanied by the sounds of blasting gun shots could be heard all over the city. Thick smoke clouded over what was once a clear blue sky, shadowing the city in a blanket of darkness. What started off as a normal day in Insomnia turned into a complete battlefield in a few hours, when the Niflheim empire charged through the skies with their military airships, raining down soldiers upon innocent civilians. In a kingdom which has seen many years of peace, now lay cold bodies lost from their reasons to live, yet the weapons were still fired with so sign of stopping. These soldiers, they had no trace of empathy or remorse–they were like robots, never failing to kill on command.

“We lost the princess.”

That was all it took for the glaive to re-enter the fray.

“What do you mean you lost the princess!?” Nyx voice had came to an instant yell when Libertus had informed him that the princess had gone missing. “I thought I told you to keep an eye on her!”

But it wasn’t his fault. Gods he knew it wasn’t. Nyx knew it was wrong for him to blame Libertus, he did nothing wrong. Lunafreya had a stubborn nature, an unwavering knack to help those in need. He should’ve seen it a mile away, felt in in his bones that she would return to the battlefield. But that kindness she held in her heart could be the only thing that was to kill her.

He was running, fast as his legs could carry him. The pounding noise of his heavy boots hitting rubble sent a clanging echo that matched the heart throbbing inside his chest—thick with grief and fear. He continued running, faster and faster, darting through narrows passageways, warping from building to building. He could feel his muscles starting to burn and ache, begging for a chance to rest. But Nyx ignored their desperate pleas and continued pressing forward, driving his energy to the very edge of exhaustion.

His muscles could deteriorate all they wanted. But Nyx couldn’t give a damn. He had a princess to save.

Finally, he came to a stop on top of a building, but it wasn’t time to rest. Frantically, Nyx scanned his surroundings, eyes searching for any sign of the missing princess in the rubble and smoke. “Your highness!” he yelled out, voice strained and dry.

However all he received was a response of silence. The panic within his being was expanding, taking over his last grip on sanity and replacing his thoughts with anguish and desperation.

 Is she dead?

“No!” he shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. Lunafreya was alive—he was sure of that. But despite these words of self-affirmation, Nyx could still feel the unsettling dread drill deep in the pits of his stomach—wrapping their phantom fingers around his neck to a choke hold. 

She’s dead…isn’t she?…

“The princess is alive, damn it!” The glaive continued to block the false thoughts clouding his head. But words of reassurance were beginning to sound like lies as his eyes continued to see nothing but the surrounding destruction…that was until they landed on a lone figure laid up against a building. His eyes widened.

“Your highness!”

With a quick throw of his kukri, he warped towards where the lone figure lay. And there she was, the missing princess. Her hair hung loose around her shoulder, her eyes were closed as if she was in peaceful slumber. But the white dress which clad her body, was painted in scarlet.

 “No!” Crying out in protest, he rushed to Lunafreya’s side. Collapsing to his knees, he quickly cradled the princess in his trembling arms. His eyes scanned her body. Blood was seeping through the deep open wound on her abdomen. “Your highness?” he called out. “Your highness!”

 The princess slowly opened her eyes to meet Nyx’s. Her once bright blue orbs were now depleted from colour—grey and bleak—as her life began to slowly dwindle away. “N-Nyx…” her voice rasped out, only barely reaching the said glaive’s ears. “Y-You’re okay.” Her face then contoured into one of pain until a round of coughs tore through her throat, sending blood to spill from her mouth.

 “Shhh. Don’t speak I’m going to help you.” Nyx hushed her while at the same time trying to calm the turmoil of grief that was threatening to consume him. 

“N-No..” Lunafreya choked out. “I-I don’t have m-much time left—”
“No! I’m not letting you die!” Nyx fired back, frantically looking around the in hopes to find something that would stop the bleeding. “You’re going to be okay…just…just let me—”

“N-Nyx..” she called out again.

Nyx turned his attention back to the princess. The colour was draining from her skin at a rapid pace, leaving her once rosy cheeks a porcelain white. Her breaths came in ragged and shallow gasps as she tried to force out whatever remaining air she had in her lungs. He tried to bite back the tears that were threatening to overflow. A soldier must never weep, but every second that passed he found it harder and harder to do so. 

“I…I’m sorry I…I didn’t listen to you…” she spoke with laboured breaths. “B-But I couldn’t leave without you…I just couldn’t…”

“No!” Nyx shook his head. “No, your highness you don’t need to apologise!”

Though it was very painful to do so, an extremely weak chuckle sounded from Lunafreya’s blood coated lips. “Promise me….even without me….you’ll… get out of here…” her voice was soft only a breath. 

“Don’t say that. We’re leaving the city together.” Nyx hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re not going to die.” but deep inside he knew it was already too late. The life was draining from her body at a pace far past from saving.  

The princess opened her mouth to respond. Instead a muffled moan of agony took its place, followed by a sharp gasp forcing its way past her parted lips. The hot searing pain spread across her body, moving with the blood that poured from her wound. Her vision was beginning to blur, as the edges began to fill with black. However the only thing that she could see past her fading vision was a bright light shining down from the land of the dead. Off in the distance she could hear bells tolling for her, beckoning her to the gates of the afterlife. The gods were waiting for their child to come home.

“Your highness?” Nyx called out to her when he noticed her consciousness slipping. “Your highness, stay with me! No! please!” he cried.

Clinging what she had left in the mortal world, Lunafreya reached her blood stained hand towards the glaive to cup his cheek.

When a girl shows you her hand, my dear galive. It means she wants you to hold it. The very words of her own whispered in the glaives mind.

With trembling fingers, Nyx placed his hand on top of hers and held it. Blood stuck and dripped between their fingers as he intertwined hers with his. Her hands felt cold, no longer the warmth he remembered holding so many times ago. He could feel his throat starting to choke up as he tried to force down the pain. But it was no use. 

Breathing in her last breath, Lunafreya’s lips pulled into a smile. “Promise me…” she spoke weakly. And with her last words, she closed her eyes, allowing her fragile heart to beat one last time. 

“Your highness?”

A response of silence.

“No…princess…” Nyx choked. his voice straining against his throat. “Say something…please…”

She was gone.

Nyx choked. Brick by brick, his walls came tumbling down. As much as he tried to hold it in, the sobs punctured through him with no sign of mercy. His lips trembled and his shoulders heaved with emotions unwilling to back down. Finally, a lone tear traced down his cheek, and that was all it took for the many more to follow. The pain came up like an uproar from his throat in the form of a silent scream. An excruciating pain shot through his chest—he suddenly found it hard to breath. The heartache burned like a lit torch, scorching it’s way through his flesh to devour his shattering soul.

He pulled her cold body closer to his chest, cradling her in his arms. Now his world had turned to enmity, and wounds him where his affection’s deepest. It was wound that no healing hands of a fallen princess could heal.

And yet…

With the hand which held her own, he brought her delicate fingers—cold like ice—to his lips, kissing them one last time.

 “I promise….your highness….”

In 2013, news sites were covering the tale of a mysterious entity known locally as the ghost of De Maules or, more popularly, Le Loyon. According to various news sites (and Daily Mail), this strange figure had been roaming a particular road in the Swiss countryside on a daily basis for the last decade, always clad in a gas mask and a strange, military-style rain cloak, frightening people with its appearance and … minding its own business, deliberately avoiding people, and occasionally picking flowers?

Just a few months after the story started making rounds, Le Loyon’s clothing was found by the road it had been stalking, complete with an extremely passive-aggressive “suicide” note (it’s in French, but here’s a reasonably accurate translation). The note expressed Le Loyon’s concerns that the recent exposure would lead to further attention, which forced the person under the clothes to abandon the walks, which the letter referred to as “happiness therapy.” Then, it snarks at the reader for not understanding the works of one Sacher-Masoch.

Yep, we’re talking about Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, as in “the granddaddy of masochism.” So, yeah, while in theory it’s still possible that Switzerland just barely dodged a Friday The 13th situation here, it sure looks a lot like Internet attention just managed to freak out a harmless S&M enthusiast who merely wanted to mind their own business and suffer nature in peace.

5 Creepy Unsolved Mysteries (That Have Totally Been Solved)

What I have with you is worth it. It is worth every lonely night, every tear I cry from missing you, and the pain I feel from not having you close. It is worth it because you are my one and only. When I picture myself years from now, I see only you. No matter how painful distance can be, not having you in my life would be worse.
—  Singing through the rain
Things I really wish would be in the Pacific Rim Prop Auction

• the little metal robot toy that was found by the grandpa and grandson on the Alaskan beach, right before Gipsy/Raleigh staggered ashore

• Mako’s red shoe

• Hannibal’s gold-tipped shoe

• Newt’s cracked/broken glasses

• Hermann’s parka or sweater or jacket or something worn by Hermann… But mostly Hermann’s parka

• Mako’s umbrella from the iconic umbrella-in-the-rain shot

• Stacker’s overcoat, military jacket, something worn by Stacker


[…Of all of these, I think I’d want the robot toy the most!!!]

  • Interviewer: We have seen all of the seven kingdoms in action in one way or another except Dorne and the Vale. I am trying to get an understanding of the various strengths of the different realms. When Robb calls the Northern Banners he gathers a host of about 18 thousand men. How do Dorne and the Vale compare to this (I don't expect numbers, just general feeling)
  • GRRM: I'd say these three kingdoms were roughly equal in the force they could assemble... but the north is much bigger, so it takes longer for an army to gather. And life is harsher there as well, so lords and smallfolk both need to think carefully before beating those plowshares into swords.
  • Interviewer: I also gather that Highgarden is the most populated place (Renly mentions 40,000 men), with the Lannisters being next (two combined hosts in GoT seem to be about 35,000).
  • GRRM: The Reach is the second largest domain (after the north), and the most populous and fertile as well. The westerlands are the richest, with all the gold and silver in those hills. Those two regions also have the greatest strength at sea, after the Iron Islands.
  • Interviewer: Dragonstone appears to be the least powerful. The Riverlands and Stormlords appear to fall in the middle I imagine.
  • GRRM: Dragonstone is last, agreed. The riverlands are rich and fertile and populous, but suffer from divided leadership and a lack of natural boundaries. The stormlands have lots of trees and rocks and rain.
I choose who I engage with very carefully

I choose who I engage with very carefully. When you take a position against marginalized people taking a stand against abuse and hurtful rhetoric, you’ve shown your true colors. There’s really nothing to discuss.

However, it bothers me when people who look like me fight against their own best interests. Why are you fighting against your own humanity? Why are you fighting against being portrayed decently? Why do you align with and defend jokes that debase you? It’s one thing to get ignorant comments about Africa from non-Africans, it’s quite another when some Africans go out of their way to defend or excuse the ignorance. I just want to know what the end goal is for these jolly Africans who don’t mind being the butt of ignorant jokes. What are you getting out of this? What do you get for defending your debasement? Are you not an African? Do you like African nations being depicted as insignificant in an ignorant, racist and reductive manner for “jokes”? Is that acceptable to you? If so, why do you accept this? Why do you lash out at those of us who refuse to accept it? Why are you so comfortable with being a foot stool?

Other people are talking about how many don’t know about geography (and they say this almost with pride) and that the “tiny” Ghana is insignificant, which makes Ellen’s tweet really funny. These are the things people say when they have imbibed white supremacy. If you don’t know about geography, then open up a book. You have free will don’t you? You can do things can’t you? You have internet access don’t you? Look up the things that you don’t know. Your internet access isn’t just for insulting Blue Ivy’s hair. Can you be proactive for once in your wretched lives? Must everything be spoonfed and explained away for you? What would you do if marginalized people didn’t take the time to educate you after they were the targets of insults and “jokes”? It’s a hell of a thing to expect the people you victimize to tutor you on why you should not victimize them. Your empathy chip is missing.

BTW - Ghana only happens to have the 2nd largest population in West Africa. Only in the mind of someone drunk on US exceptionalism will a population of over 24 million be something that is insignificant. That’s larger than many European countries, but I bet they aren’t calling those European countries insignificant. Ask yourself why. Just sit there and ponder it. Try to see what reasons you come up with. Are you still able to reason? There are even more people in Ghana than Australia, but that’s not the point though. Even if their population was 24 thousand and not over 24 million, it wouldn’t make them insignificant. Their existence means they matter. Your existence means you matter.

This is one of the reasons why I can’t discuss global issues and politics with many westerners. It’s an infuriating process that in no way benefits me. Many often can’t see the top to bottom rot in a pervasive mentality that otherizes entire continents of people, even in humor. They can’t separate themselves from criticism of their leader’s foreign policies that they know little to nothing about. They take those critiques as a personal attack of their person and not their governments. They also think in numbers, and the greater the number or the more the military might, then it makes them right. Note that they never extend that logic to China and their larger military and population of nearly 1.4 billion. They tend to use terms like “collateral damage” when their governments and military rain death on innocents, like they aren’t talking about human beings. They themselves are never collateral damage however. When was the last time they described western casualties as collateral damage? It’s always someone else.

Nevertheless, it’s one thing for people in the US and the west to have that mindset, it’s quite another to see some Africans adopt and defend it. It’s like they don’t get that it’s people like them being figuratively and literally extinguished by that mindset, which is why I do not laugh at these “jokes” that reduce African countries to a pile of insignificant, unknown rubbish. That comes with a lot of baggage, forgive me for not laughing.

Some of my fellow Africans have contacted me about this post and this post, telling me how they love Ellen, and that she means well or that it’s no big deal. I just want you to grow some damn dignity and love yourselves. I’m begging you. Can you do that please? If you took one tenth of the energy you used to defend your precious celebs making ignorant and racist quips, we might actually gain a foothold, or at least have some solidarity. Instead, you are lashing out at those of us who aren’t laughing along. What’s wrong with you? I’m neither surprised or shocked when people (especially white people) show the world their ass in the form of “jokes”, but it bothers me when the butt of the joke runs in to defend them. Have you got no self-respect?

Imagine the world we would be living in if people used the energy they exerted in attacking those who point out ignorance, xenophobia and white supremacist mentalities towards attacking the perpetrators of ignorance, xenophobia and white supremacy. Imagine it.

I don’t even get why these people who always have something contrarian to say follow me. Why are you here? You clearly have a problem with my views, yet you never leave. What do you think my position will be regarding “jokes” that debase and render an African nation as insignificant and an unknown entity? You expect me to laugh at that?

Sidenote: I noticed that some of the people caping for Ellen were also caping for Justin Bieber. All I will say is that you’ve got to love yourselves more. I mean that.

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Jeju Island is the first place in the world to receive all three UNESCO natural science designations : Biosphere Reserve in 2002, Natural Heritage in 2007, Global Geopark in 2010. But the Korean and U.S. military is constructing a U.S. Naval Base over the UNESCO heritage sites.

Gureombi Rock was our prayer site, our dining place, our place of rest. It was our swimming pool. We did everything on the rock.

Every day, villagers & activists will sit, stand & dance at the gate of the naval base being constructed.

The villagers of Gangjeong Village outside the Jeju Courts, refuse to pay fines for their peaceful protests.

The villagers remember that 30,000 people were killed on Jeju Island in 1948, in an April 3rd massacre collaborated by the U.S. military.

Daily, rain or shine, the villagers protest the destruction of their people & land by the U.S. naval base