[ HOSPITAL ]
[ HOSPITAL ]
Now. You might be wondering why on earth my first thought was that I was a reincarnate rather than—well rather than something normal like coming out of a coma or being miraculously saved at a hospital.
(Miraculously—heh. You’ll get that joke soon enough).
But let’s review the facts, shall we?
Firstly, I got stabbed and bled out. I felt myself die. It was horrible, and agonizing, and quite frankly horrifying, but there’s no mistaking that sensation. Nothing else would compare, and I knew that I’d carry that feeling for the rest of my life. (Would that be the appropriate term, if the way I was alive counted for anything? The rest of my existence, maybe?)
Secondly, I woke up somewhere cold and unfamiliar. Not in an ambulance, not in a hospital bed, but rather with the strangest bone-deep conviction that I was somewhere warm and all-encompassing and suddenly wasn’t. This confused me the most, because—as I said—there was no possible way for me to have survived in any normal sense. It would take a miracle and a half, and evidently that hadn’t come up if the way I was carried around in the arms of strangers as though I weighed nothing had anything to say about this absurd situation.
And thirdly. This was the most damning part of it all: the last words I’d heard before I’d fallen asleep.
“Félicitations, c'est une fille!”
With my limited high-school French, even I could understand this.
Congratulations—it’s a girl!
So, with all these clues, with everything adding up the way it did, is it even a mystery that my first thought was reincarnation?
***
When I wake up from my impromptu nap, it’s to warmth. Cosy, pleasant warmth, the kind that makes you want to burrow further under your covers and maybe kick your feet due to the sheer contentment you feel, and drift lazily to sleep.
I was set on doing that—determined, even, to push away all thoughts of the sheer magnitude of this situation, and the absurdity of it—but my stomach decides that it’s going to rebel and make me aware of the fact that I was starving. The sensation is overwhelming, my tiny body wracked with hunger that felt devastating, and I do the only thing that this tiny body is capable of doing. I scream. I cry.
This is vastly different from my last outburst. That was the confused, panicked wail of an adult-turned-baby, and with the confusion and overstimulation and bright lights and cold and the smell of hospital disinfectant and being wet and slimy and being slapped on my rear—
Yeah, there was nothing left for me to do except scream; no recourse available apart from distress that was devastating in its intensity.
This cry of mine is instinctual. It’s what this body decides to do, and before I’m even aware of it, I’m doing it again. Louder, even, as though my mouth and lungs have remembered what to do and are compensating for the initial delay. My limbs are trapped in fabric, and before I can panic at that, I’m lifted. Cradled.
My eyes are closed, squinted, and I’m sure that even if I could open them, I wouldn’t be able to see anything. But my ears don’t have that problem, and I can hear a soft voice murmuring in that same musical language—which I can now tentatively identify as French—and I can hear the snap of something, a strap loosening and then—
Oh.
Oh.
Warmth. A new kind of warmth. It’s sweet, and rich, and flows down my throat like I’m starving. (As an aside, this was my first taste of food in this new life, no matter the source. No wonder I felt euphoric, almost drunk on finally filling my stomach, when this tiny body had never even felt so much as a hunger pang before).
I don’t think; I just act, latching onto the offered source of food and drinking as though my life depends on it. It’s humiliating. It’s weird. It’s something that I adamantly don’t want to think about, my mind shying away from exactly where I’m greedily guzzling from.
The voice above me hums softly. It’s a lullaby I don’t recognise, and it sounds soothing. My eyelids droop, a deep satisfied sleepiness creeping in again. This body betrays me by falling asleep, and honestly? I don’t fight it. I don’t want to think about what happened. I don’t want to process all that’s happened. Not now. Not yet.
I sleep.
[PREV] [MASTERPOST] [NEXT]
***
FIND THE REST HERE:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/64262899/chapters/164948017#workskin
More Posts from Mae-mae-me and Others
cass should be the ONLY contender for batman. that is the truth, I speak no lies.
“average person eats 3 spiders a year” factoid actualy just statistical error. average person eats 0 spiders per year. Spiders Georg, who lives in cave & eats over 10,000 each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted
It’s so good I swear…!
erin,,, I’m craving a jacket potato with the fluffiest insides, with butter and baked beans and cheese that goes melty…. mmmmmmmmmm (yes I am british how did you know)
i had to google what a jacket potato is and it's just a loaded baked potato- however this is the first time i don't immediately hate the term british people use for smth so congratulations, that's kind of a cute thing to call it
now i want a baked potato so bad...
i do, unfortunately, have to send you to prison for putting beans on your baked potato. i'm so sorry mae mae but that is a criminal offense. you need to be stopped before you hurt any other foods with beans
culinary offense so bad you're getting life in prison, no chance of parole!! in fact, you're getting put in isolation. quarantined for the rest of your life
Temples are built for gods. Knowing this a farmer builds a small temple to see what kind of god turns up.
Soul-Stitching: The Heir and the Guardian
Synopsis
"I don't think much explanation is needed; the defendant is undoubtedly the villain Hawkmoth!”
An uproar reverberates in the courtroom which the judge silences again.
“That does seem conclusive.” The judge nods. “Does the defense have anything to say?”
“Yes.” Adrien takes the floor, holding up a piece of paper and putting one hand on his hip. “I think we're missing one big point here.” He points at the TV screen, which switches to a masked photo of Hawkmoth. “This is Hawkmoth! He's a grown man and no way a young woman, much less my client. You say that you found evidence in my client's apartment, which could just be circumstantial evidence. The butterflies? My client might be an entomologist.”
-
Step 1: Be accused of terrorizing Paris with magical butterflies
Step 2: Watch Paris fall into chaos
Step 3: Watch the Justice League fall into chaos
Step 4: Attend court trial and-
have Adrien Agreste as your defense attorney?!
[Inspired by #8024 by SimplyAnotherWriter]
Chapter Masterlist
chapter 1: the assassin and his servant
chapter 2: the innocent and the guilty
chapter 3: to remember and forget
chapter 4: freedom and imprisonment
chapter 5: death and revival
DP X DC PROMPT
Ok, so I had this idea in the shower.
Alicia and Maddie are sisters, right? Wrong.
Talia al Ghul and Maddie are sisters. Twins, to be exact. Idk what happened with Maddie for her to be cut off from the LOA, but let’s say that she’s a researcher for the Lazarus Pits (ectoplasm), and leave it there.
She married Jack Fenton (which— why do the Al Ghul women marry big men who are ditzy and himbos on the outside, but are surprisingly smart?), and they had one child; Jasmine Fenton.
Talia on the other hand had twins— Danyal and Damian. (Again— what is it with twins here??)
Anyway, same thing happened with Danyal. He was cut off somehow, some way, and Talia decided to bring him to her sister, a “civilian”— as far as LOA operatives can be civilians. (Is this an excuse for backstory for her 9 black belts? Yes. Yes it is.)
Damian goes to them periodically, maybe once a year, and since Danny and Jasmine and Jack aren’t aware of the LOA, this is literally a sneak mission. Can you pass off as a civilian 101. So, once a year, Damian goes to meet his “cousin” Danny, Jasmine and his aunt and uncle. He is to be a normal American Teenager™ when he visits them, and this skill is rarely used but can be used.
Cue Damian going to the BatFam, all of canon stuff happens etc etc. For about 2 years due to all off the canon stuff, Damian doesn’t meet his cousins. So one day, in the middle of dinner, Damian says
“Father, I will need to be dropped off in Amity Park to meet my cousins. I will be there for roughly one week, and I will need you to pick me up after this.”
Cue Bruce and co, going “Whaaaat?? Cousins?? What are they doing in Amity Park, which, last I checked, doesn’t have any LOA hotspots??”
Damian doesn’t elaborate.
They research, and find a seemingly normal family, if a little eccentric in their research of the paranormal.
They go to Amity Park with him. Damian is sighing and tt’ing this whole time going “They are normal. There’s nothing wrong with them!!”
They meet the family. As soon as Maddie opens the door with a “Darling! How have you been!” it’s like a switch has been flipped.
No longer is he Damian Wayne, son of the Bat and the grandson and heir to the Demon’s empire. No, no, he is just a normal American Teenager ™ who is just very excited to have his annual sleepover with his cousins.
Everyone is weirded out by this.
Ok, that’s as much as I have for this, if anyone wants to add on to this prompt, have a go!!
@nerdpoe @starry-bi-sky @hecate-hollow @bet-on-me-13 @deadsetobsessions @dcxdpdabbles @virgamsysxvolumes @lazerswordweilder @evilminji @hdgnj
I think every computer user needs to read this because holy fucking shit this is fucking horrible.
So Windows has a new feature incoming called Recall where your computer will first, monitor everything you do with screenshots every couple of seconds and "process that" with an AI.
Hey, errrr, fuck no? This isn't merely because AI is really energy intensive to the point that it causes environmental damage. This is because it's basically surveilling what you are doing on your fucking desktop.
This AI is not going to be on your desktop, like all AI, it's going to be done on another server, "in the cloud" to be precise, so all those data and screenshot? They're going to go off to Microsoft. Microsoft are going to be monitoring what you do on your own computer.
Now of course Microsoft are going to be all "oooh, it's okay, we'll keep your data safe". They won't. Let me just remind you that evidence given over from Facebook has been used to prosecute a mother and daughter for an "illegal abortion", Microsoft will likely do the same.
And before someone goes "durrr, nuthin' to fear, nuthin to hide", let me remind you that you can be doing completely legal and righteous acts and still have the police on your arse. Are you an activist? Don't even need to be a hackivist, you can just be very vocal about something concerning and have the fucking police on your arse. They did this with environmental protesters in the UK. The culture war against transgender people looks likely to be heading in a direction wherein people looking for information on transgender people or help transitioning will be tracked down too. You have plenty to hide from the government, including your opinions and ideas.
Again, look into backing up your shit and switching to Linux Mint or Ubuntu to get away from Microsoft doing this shit.
i'm genuinely having so much fun writing a jock protagonist. can't believe i never tried this before. all these years i've been limiting myself needlessly
what up, I’m mae, I’m 19 and I never fucking learned how to read | SHE/HER | AO3 FANATIChttps://maeswriting.carrd.co
436 posts