#-2 revealing i took prescription for anxiety

[please-stop-finding-me]

In the er waiting room straight up irregularly beating it and by it I mean ... My heart

[argyle-s]

On Supercorp

So, I am aware that, among certain circles, I have a bit of a reputation as an “anti”.  Anti-Supercorp, Anti-Lena.  I’ll admit, the reputation is well deserved.  I have, over the past few months, made a lot of anti-Lena posts.  Since Septemper 25 of this year, I have posted more than two hundred posts with the “anti lena luthor” tag.

Now, I’ve never really been a quiet fan.  Even before I started making posts tagged anti lena luthor, I was on the Sunshine Protection Force’s block list, because I dared to make a meme for a ship that Vv doesn’t approve of as a gift for a friend.  I once dared to point out that Kara was more likely to go to Alex with a question about something she didn’t understand, and got called a ‘granny stanning fuck’.  I got harassed to the point of taking down one of my fics because a bunch of teenagers in the Sanvers fandom didn’t like me writing about Alex and Maggie engaging in self destructive behavior.  Oh, and I had dared to write posts criticizing Lena’s behavior.

But why the sudden, vehement dislike of Lena and the Supercorp ship?

In order to explain that, I have to explain a bit about who I am.  I am a 43 year old bisexual trans woman.  I transitioned about 2 months after my 42 birthday.  I grew up in a deeply religious, homophobic, transphobic home.  My grandmother and her second husband were my primary care takes for the time I was about 6 months old, until he died when I was 16.  I finally managed to move out when I was about 21.  By the time I moved out of my grandmother’s house, I was already involved with a woman who was ten years older than me.

I was abused for the first 34 years of my life.  First by my Grandmother and her husband, then by my intimate partner.  When I was a child, I got the full buffet.  Mental, emotional and physical abuse.  My Grandmother liked wire and plastic fly swatters.  Her husband liked leather belts, his firsts, and on one notable occasion, a buck knife.  I at various times watched him try to murder one of my uncles with said knife, and try to choke my brother to death.  He was a prescription drug addict, and his moods were as unpredictable as his choice of drugs each morning.  I met my ex, who was my first girlfriend, when I was 19 and she was 29.  She spent two years grooming me.  We first slept together when I was 21 and she was 31.  We were together for 13 years, and the best thing I can say about her is that she never hit me.  The physical abuse stopped when I was sixteen and my grandmother’s husband died, but not being hit doesn’t mean that twenty-two years of my life weren’t filled with horrible abuse and violence.

I eventually escaped.  I got lucky.  My brother got remained to an abuse survivor, and the more she and I interacted, the more she picked up on the signs of abuse.  It took her years to coax me into standing up for myself, and when I finally did, when I finally stood up to my ex and said ‘you’re abusing me’ she immediately threw me out.  It was honestly the kindest thing she’d ever done for me.  She literally released me from the promises and commitment I had made to her, and let me walk away from the hellscape of that life with a clean conscience.

I walked away, but not without lasting injury, and permanent scars.  I have depression, anxiety, CPTSD and an eating disorder.  I’ve spent long periods of my life dealing with suicidal tendencies.  And I was, at the time I walked away, a 34 year old closeted trans woman.

What does all of that have to do with Supercorp you ask?

Pretty much everything.

Kara Zor-El has been my favorite Superhero since I was about 8 years old and say the Helen Slater movie for the first time.  Up until that point, Superman has held the crown, but I felt a much deeper connection to Kara than I ever did as Clark.  It would be decades before I really understood why she resonated so strongly, but my love for Kara has always been there.

Then 2015 rolled around, and Supergirl premiered, and I was blown away.  This was a version of Kara that I connected with so much more deeply that any other version.  This was everything I had ever wanted.  I fell in love with the show, and with Kara Danvers.  I felt a kinship and a connection to the character at the time in my life when I was struggling deeply with depression and anxiety.

As ridiculous as it may sound, Supergirl was a lifeline.  The show filled me with so much hope that I could survive, that I could make it.  Kara was a roll model.  She’s been through something horrible, and she came out of it and all she wanted to do was help.  And no matter how hard things were, no matter how cruel the world was to her, she still had hope, she still had strength, and she still did everything she could to help.

I came out the summer between the first season and the second.  Told the world that I am bisexual, that I have gender disphoria.  I did it in the wake of the Pulse Shooting.

A few weeks later, I got Kara’s symbol tattooed on my arm.  Below it are Cat Grant’s words.  “Hope in Stronger Than Fear.”  I did it as a reminder to myself.

Then season two started.

I admit, I didn’t pay much attention to Lena at first.  Cat, who I loved was gone, and I was swept up in Alex’s coming out storyline.  Lena was just kind of there.  I didn’t really connect to her.  But what I did see...  It bothered me.  The alien detector storyline in her second episode left a sour taste in my mouth.  The fact that she put Kara's life on the line by telling Lillian that Kara was investigating her.  It wasn't really until the end of Ace Reporter (2x18) that I really noticed just how uncomfortable her character made me.  There was something about that final scene between her and Kara that just didn't sit right.  Looking back, I think it's because that's the first time (at least that I remember) that Lena shifts the responsibility for her behavior onto Kara.  It's subtle, it's all the in the subtext of what she's saying, but it's there.

The next disturbing moment is in 3x02, and the confrontation between Kara and Lena.  Kara sets a boundary.  She tells Lena the problem she is having in personal, and that she doesn't want to talk about it at work.  Lena, instead of respecting that boundary, instead of backing off, immediately punishes Kara for daring to not share every detail of her life.  Yes, Kara was not doing her job, but Lena's obviously knew Kara was having issues, and she came down on Kara the way she did to punish her for having boundaries and feelings.

From there, Lena's actions towards Kara get more and more questionable, and I will not go through and innumerate all of them.  I've done so in a number of other posts.  But there is a slow but steady building of a pattern of abuse between Lena and Kara, with Lena as the abuser and Kara as the victim.  It gets progressively worse.  The pattern is clear.  Lena expects Kara to be completely emotionally available to her at all times.  She feels entitled to Kara's every thought and feeling.  She expects and allows Kara to perform all the emotional labor in the relationship.  And any time Kara doesn't to all of this, any time Kara sets a boundary, or isn't available at Lena's whim, Lena punishes Kara for it.  The clearest example of this, prior to the Lex reveal, was in American Dreamer (4x19) when Lena lays into Kara for not being there for her.

And ultimately, that's what is going on in season 5.  All of Season 5 so far, with the exception of Crisis, is Lena's attempt to punish Kara for not making every single part of her life available to Lena.  And there is a dangerous level of escalation to Lena's abuse that we see, even before the season starts. In the preview, we see that there is a clear desire, on Lena's part, to physically harm Kara.  It wouldn't actually be the first time.  Lena allows Kara to get hurt by not telling her that the forcefield will hurt her if she uses her x-ray vision on it back in The Fanatical (3x19).  It's a horrible moment, but I'm not including it in the pattern of abuse directed towards Kara, because at the time, Lena didn't know Supergirl and Kara were the same person.  I realize some people are going to point out that what was say in the VR simulations were just that, simulations, but Lena does, eventually, especalate to physical abuse in Tremors (5x07) when she cages Kara in ice and exposes her to Kryptonite.

Now that I've laid out all the back story here, let's address the original question.  Why am I so vehemently anti lena luthor and anti supercorp?

Because watching Kara and Lena's relationship feels very much like watching the nightmare of my relationship with my ex play out in front of my eyes.  The slow escalation of abuse.  The gaslighting.  The punishment for having feelings.  The inability of Kara to hold any part of her life back from Lena without being punished for her.  Kara is one of my favorite characters in all of fiction.  She has been for 35 years.  I feel a personal connection and kinship to her, and watching her be abused so badly and so long, until we get an entire episode like The Wrath of Rama Khan (5x08) where she sounds like nothing so much as a battered woman defending her abuser, is painful.  But worse than that, watching the Supercorp fandom glorify and romanticize it, watching then take delight in "the angst", is horrifying.

Kara is being abused by Lena, and the Supercorp fandom is out there cheering Lena on.  They are claiming that the abuse is absolutely justified by the fact that Kara kept a secret.  They are baying for the escalation of violence against Kara by Lena.

It's disgusting.  It is.

I don't expect this post to change the minds of the Supercorp die hards or the Lena die hards.  But there are people in this fandom who are going to see the fandom holding up Kara and Lena and screaming 'relationship goals'.  I hope they see this post, because there are people out there who genuinely need to hear that the dynamic between Kara and Lena isn't health, it isn't okay, it's nothing to be emulated or envied.  The relationship between Kara and Lena is sick, and toxic, and abusive.  If anyone *ever* treats you the way Lena treats Kara.  Run.  I don't care what you've promised them.  I don't care what committments you made.  Run.  Just run.

Because that kind of abuse will wear you down, it well tear you apart.  It will make you long for death.  It will make you dream of putting a gun in your mouth.

I know.  Because it did all of that to me.

That's why I have two hundred plus posts tagged anti lena luthor.

But I'm not tagging this one that way, because it's not hating on a character to tell the truth.  And the truth is, Lena Luthor is an abuser, and she's a villain.

[thewnchstrs]

ONESHOTS

PAIRINGS

*** = smut

Dean

Scarred: after a hunt gone wrong, the reader has to undergo surgery leaving her with a permanent memory of what happened that night.***

Meet the Family: meeting your boyfriend’s family for the first time at Thanksgiving is already a nightmare, but sprinkle in a little suppressed family drama and you get a recipe for disaster. (AU where Sam and Dean were never hunters)***

Hold On: the life of a hunter becomes too much for the reader to handle.

The Waiting Room: Dean and the reader’s world collide when they meet in a hospital waiting room.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot: sparring practice with Dean turns into something much more.

Back in Black: it’s all fun and games until Dean Winchester catches you dancing in your room with his clothes on.

Twenty Years too Late: the reader has to come clean about the horrible things that happened to her in the past.

Friends: in times like these, it’s not safe to love who you love (based off of the song Friends by Ed Sheeran). *male!reader

Exorcist?: the reader uncovers something that leads Dean to have to reveal the truth about the Family Business. | Part 2

Hopeless: when Sam finds out about how the reader self harms, he urges her to tell Dean.

Not to Blame: reader has a history of self harm and is finally forced to open up about it.

Devil’s Backbone: the crucifix around your neck seemed to burn the moment you laid eyes on Dean Winchester, but you couldn’t find it in you to care (based off of the song Devil’s Backbone by the Civil Wars).

Wings: when the reader falls into a coma and is met with an unlikely circumstance, will she try to fix her rocky relationship with Dean or fall for someone new?

Just a Number: the reader and Dean are in an established relationship but there’s one aspect of it that Dean can’t get past.

Happier: even though Dean knows you’re happier now, he can’t help but miss you (based off of the song Happier by Ed Sheeran).

Sam

Death Wish: after Sam dies, Y/N knows what she has to do in order to bring him back.

O’ Death: a hunt gone wrong leads to the reader finding herself facing Death one last time.

Help Me Help You: after Sam finds out the reader has a prescription pill problem, he knows he has to confront her about it.

Underworld: Sam, Dean, and the reader run into one of the toughest demons they’ve come across in a long time. But she needs their help. male!reader

Here For You(Always): the reader struggles with anorexia, and when there’s an incident during a hunt, she has to come clean.

The Day: the reader is head over heels for Sam but doesn’t know how to act around him so Dean tries to help.

Chuck

More Than a Secret: when the reader finds out Chuck is God, she battles with how to deal with it.

NON-PAIRINGS

Sam & Dean & Reader

Multilingual: the reader has more skills than the Winchesters seem to know about.

Team Free Will & Reader

The Vessel: unaware that Lucifer is pulling the strings, Sam, Dean, and the reader have Castiel send Dean back in time to a doomed WWll submarine to retrieve the Hand of God. episode rewrite

It’s a Midwest Thing: TFW visits the reader’s hometown.

Sam & Dean

Barnum & Bailey: Sam and Dean meet a group of hunters who disguise themselves as a traveling circus.

Stanford: Dean finds Sam’s Stanford application.

FAMILY FICS

Daughter!Reader

Fifteen Going on Thirty: finding a box of condoms in your daughter’s room never goes over well.

It’s a Two Way Street: Sam’s seven year old daughter becomes possessed.

Runaway: when the reader tries to go on their first hunt alone, Sam is reminded of a time when he almost lost them. gender neutral!reader

Top Secret: Sam’s daughter is planning his birthday present until it all goes terribly wrong.

I Loved Her First: Dean reminisces on his life with his daughter on her wedding day. (based off of the song I Loved Her First by Heartland)

Winchester Sister

Dream On: after being captured by a demon, the Winchesters are faced with a decision to make. (OC Ellie)

Rescuer: when celebrating a hunt gone right, the reader receives some very unwanted attention from a man in a bar.

Fade to Black: after being injured during a hunt, Sam and Dean aren’t sure their sister will make it out alive.

A Very Supernatural Thanksgiving: what’s Thanksgiving without coming out to your family and then getting the sex talk.

#thinman: when a teenage girl is killed, the final selfie she took before the attack shows a shadowy figure in the background. Can Sam, Dean, and the reader find the ghost? episode rewrite

Burden: drinking and driving never mix.

Side Effects: the reader has been abusing her medication, and it’s only a matter of time before her brother’s find out.

Forbidden Love: the reader’s relationship with Lucifer is hidden for nearly a year until her brothers find out about it.

Torture Makes the Dead Man Talk: Sam and the reader are taken by Toni Bevell, a British Men of Letters who tortures them for information. | Part 2

Show and Don’t Tell: the reader has been with Charlie for almost six months, now comes the part of breaking the news to her brothers.

The Main Event: being a deaf hunter is just as hard as you’d expect.

Baby Blue: the reader gets caught doing something her brothers are less than thrilled about.

Mystery Spot: while Sam, Dean, and the reader are investigating a mystery spot, the reader is sent into a time loop where everyday is Tuesday. episode rewrite

Goodnight, Moon: when the reader runs away in order to get out of the Family Business, she finds herself ten years later in front of the two people she thought she’d never see again.

Home is Where I’m With You: the reader goes away to college, but leaving home is going to be harder than she thinks.

The Cure: watching after a demon is much harder when A) that demon is your brother, and B) when that demon escapes. | Part 2

She’s a Winchester: when Sam and Dean suspect that their sister is dating, they find something in the far corner of her bedside table that confirms their suspicions.

4 AM: the reader comes home drunk, but her brothers are up waiting for her.

Yellow Fever: the reader is infected with an illness that starts as anxiety, but moves to full-blown terror and stops the heart. episode rewrite

Dancing Queen: the reader gets an invitation to a school father-daughter dance, but John hasn’t been home in a few days.

The Babysitter: the Winchester brothers need a babysitter for their younger sister.

RPFs

Jared & Jensen & Misha & Reader

Captain America?: the reader has a secret boyfriend, and Jared, Jensen and Misha want to know who he is

Jensen & Jared & Reader

Lean On Me: all of the times the reader, Jared, and Jensen had to lean on each other when it seemed like they were all they had. (based off of the song Lean On Me by Bill Withers)

Jensen

(There’s No Place Like) Home for the Holidays: the reader’s first Christmas with her new family. (daughter!reader)

Midnight Dreamer: the reader hears something from Jensen’s side of the bed in the middle of the night.***

OTHER

Partner in Crime: Gabrielle meets the angel she’s been dying to meet.

Rock Never Dies: the reader intends to find and kill Lucifer except he’s now he’s international rockstar Vince Vincente.

With a Little Help From My Friends: a church sermon offends Lucifer, the angels and the reader defend him.

What Do You Expect?: Crowley is dragged to Comic Con. | Part 2

I Guess Angels Are Real: when Charlie is in a desperate situation, the reader agrees to help out, which leads to major flirting with the reader from Dean.

[drlissahawthorne]

Shifting Sights

Who: Clarissa Hawthorne

When: mid 2007 - mid 2008, ft. mentions of 2005

Where: nowhere specific / an eye doctor’s office

What: The starts of Clarissa’s journey with her sight loss and how she shifted her sights from archery to occupational therapy because of it.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1855

Notes: This is part 1 of 3. Part 2.

Clarissa had always been good about protecting her eyes and keeping them healthy. As an archer, her eyes were just as important as her arms, if not more so. There were ways to continue to compete if one lost their arms. There were far less when it came to losing eyesight. Hard to hit a target you can’t see and all that. She did her best not to strain her eyes, made sure to not play video games for too long, and always took constant breaks. Didn’t binge watch shows or spend too long in front of a screen of any kind. She took every precaution she could with her eyes, just as she did the rest of her body.

Losing her eyesight came out of nowhere.

She’d noticed the changes as early as fifteen. It wasn’t anything drastic, at first. A little blurry, a little painful if she did too much, but nothing entirely out of the ordinary. Her family did have a history of eye problems as it were. It felt natural, in a couple of ways. But that didn’t mean it was something to take lightly. So, she’d told her parents and they got her in with an eye doctor. Nothing seemed wrong and she got her first pair of glasses/contacts then.

Over the next year and a half, however, her prescription changed multiple times. Each change was more drastic and confusing than the last. To the point that tests had to be run, because a seemingly healthy teenager shouldn’t be losing their eyesight as fast as Clarissa was. Even if she used her eyes significantly more than most likely did. She took care of her eyes, what was happening definitely wasn’t damage she was doing herself.

It was terrifying, knowing her eyes were getting worse by the moment, and in no real discernible pattern. Her non-dominant eye was definitely receiving the brunt of the loss, which didn’t really make sense. If it was something caused by eyestrain, which was often what left her in pain, it should have been her dominant eye going first. There was no obvious reason why what was happening to her was happening and it even seemed to baffle the doctors she’d seen. Which, admittedly, did nothing to assuage the fears and anxiety that Clarissa had over the entire ordeal.

For Clarissa, her eyesight was everything. She was a world champion in archery. She’d competed at the Junior Olympics and won gold several times over the years. She was slated to compete for Italy in the 2008 Olympic games in Beijing. Archery was her entire life. The idea that she might have to give that up was devastating. Especially because she didn’t entirely know what else she might want to do with her life. Archery had been the goal, had been the dream. Continue competing, maybe go to college. Losing her sight wasn’t in the books.

In mid-2007, after months and months of testing between trips back and forth to Italy and applying to a couple colleges, both in the states and abroad, Clarissa got an answer. It wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for, and certainly wasn’t one she wanted to hear, but it was the answer she’d honestly expected to receive. At least sort of.

“We don’t know why, but you are losing your sight at an accelerated rate. The loss is a steady rate in both eyes but uneven between them. You’re definitely losing more sight in your right eye than in your left, likely because it started deteriorating first. We’ll do more testing to confirm that for sure and to see what else we can find out.” While his words were gentle, it didn’t stop the weight of them from hitting Clarissa like a truck.

“I’m going blind?” As much as she’d known that was exactly what was happening, as it didn’t take a genius to know that, her voice still shook as she asked. It felt like her entire world was crashing down around her and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

“I’m afraid so.” He was trying to be as gentle as he could, that much was obvious, but it didn’t particularly help. There was no amount of gentleness that could detract from the utter sense of loss Clarissa was experiencing.

“And you don’t know why? Is there not some sort of disease or something that explains this?” People didn’t just lose their sight, not at her age. Not without a reason. How did they not know?

“All the testing we’ve done thus far has come up inconclusive. We’ll keep testing, but… As of now, we lack an explanation.” The doctor gave a small smile. “We’ll do what we can to help you figure this out.”

“What about archery? How much longer am I going to be able to see? Can I still compete?” She could feel her breathing catch in her chest. The threat of tears, of a breakdown creeping in the longer she sat there, fiddling with her own fingers.

“Your eyes should hold out for a number of years and you may not even lose your sight entirely. It’s hard to tell, especially without knowing what exactly is causing it. You’ll need stronger prescriptions, but ultimately, will still be able to compete, for now.”

For now. 

It should have been an upside. It wasn’t. 

She’d ask dozens of more questions before leaving the office that day. Clarissa wanted to know everything she could about what was going on. She wanted to know if there were any ways to counteract what was happening, or at least ways to try and keep the pace from speeding up. The doctor didn’t necessarily have any of the answers, but it was agreed that they’d figure it out as best they could. She was scheduled for numerous tests and while she left the office with her head held high, it was more for show than anything.

She got home that evening and cried. She cried until her eyes gave up. Until everything was blurry no matter what she did, until they ached and stung. Then she cried some more. There had been no amount of preparation she could have done to prevent the way the news affected her. Not really. It was one thing to suspect something but something entirely different to actually have it be confirmed.

The news had broken her heart. There was no denying it, she’d have to give up archery. Maybe not right away, she could still compete in at least one Olympic games, but after that, after all the years of work she’d put into it, archery wouldn’t be her end all. Even if she didn’t go completely blind, there wasn’t much hope that her eyes would just suddenly stop deteriorating. At some point, even with the aid of glasses or contacts, her vision would be too poor to compete. That was something she knew for sure, even if the doctor had tried his best to convince her that wasn’t the case.

Her career as an archer wasn’t something sustainable, her eyes were going to make sure of that. She’d have to come up with something else.

The first step was deciding what she wanted to do about her diagnosis. She decided not to reveal her sight loss. She saw no point in making it known that she was going blind. People lost their sight all the time and without answers it would just make it more difficult. Besides, it wasn’t like it would hinder anything, not yet. Her contact prescription got stronger and her eyes tired out faster, but life was still relatively the same. No sense alarming anyone else to the changes that would come in time.

From there, she looked into careers and the ways to get there. While she’d already sent off a number of applications for colleges, she hadn’t actually specified a major, figuring she’d dabble a bit in everything to find something she wanted to do. That view changed when she realized that college was more about setting up for the rest of her life than just something to pass the time between competitions. She had to decide going in, no matter which college she decided to attend.

So, she started researching. Deciding what she wanted to do with her life. Where it was she wanted to go and how she wanted to get there. As much as she enjoyed languages and the learning of them, they weren’t really a practical route to take. There was too much reading and writing involved in anything related to languages and the careers that one could obtain through them. She knew a lot about working out, the human body, sports. So, she decided to look into things that related to that knowledge in some way. See if what she’d learned as an archer could get her anywhere in life.

Her final college application was for the University of Pittsburgh, looking to declare a major in Rehab Science. She wanted to help people, wanted to be able to make a difference in the world. Her knowledge of the human body and how it worked would be useful with that. From there, she decided on becoming an occupational therapist, as it seemed like the best way to do so. Not only because it would allow her to help others, but she’d learn how to help herself in the process. Pittsburgh had one of the best rehab science programs available, with the ability to go directly into a doctor of Occupational Therapy degree upon graduation. It made the most sense for her to go there, but she explored other options to achieve the same elsewhere, in case she didn’t get accepted.

When her acceptance letter came in the mail, Clarissa couldn't have been happier. As much as archery meant to her and as much as it had shaped her entire life, much as growing up across seven countries had, it was exciting, in it’s own way, to be changing direction. Shifting her sights to something that was, admittedly, far more reasonable a future than relying solely on archery to get her through life. It was terrifying too. The idea that everything she knew was changing, and not necessarily for the better. There was no telling what might happen, if she’d actually like what she’d decided upon. If she’d be able to make a living doing it. It was new territory, but a challenge she was willing to take on. And not just because she didn’t technically have a choice.

With her acceptance into U of Pitt, Clarissa headed to Beijing with her head held high, sights set on the gold and a future that seemed to be shining just as brightly. Sure, it wasn’t the same dream she’d had, the future she’d been expecting, but it was something worth celebrating. It was a life still worth living, despite the literal darkness that was creeping into her vision somewhat constantly. Just because she was losing her sight, didn’t mean she was losing everything. There were still things to look forward to and targets to hit. 

[ladyofpurple]

here it is: the post Literally no one was waiting for. i'd put it under a read more thing but i'm on mobile and can't be assed to get out of bed so fuck it. we air our dirty laundry on main for the world to see like men.

so waaay back in february or something, i started seeing a psychologist again. i'd been seeing a psychologist for a while last year, but she had a private practice and got too expensive over time, so i had to stop. now, however, i finally got a referral to the public mental health offices in my county. which is nice, because norway has this neat thing that means when you go to the doctor, public health care facilities, refill prescriptions for medications you have to take daily, etc, the money you spend on those things gets recorded and after you've spent like $260, you get a free card that gets logged into your medical records and you don't have to pay for any of those things for the rest of the year.

anyway, i mentioned a couple of years back that i finally got put on antidepressants for the first time. they helped a lot, but then i just... stopped taking them. there wasn't a reason, really. i just forgot to take them one week when i was stuck in bed with a headcold, and then it was hard to get back in the habit again. i tried to get back on them off and on for a long time, but i'd inevitably just forget again. until, like, i wanna say november/early december last year? i started taking them again. there were still some slip-ups every now and then, but for the most part i took them almost every day. any gaps were no longer than two, maybe three days at the most, and those gaps were maybe once a month or so on average. averages aren't really useful in this context, but i hope you get the idea.

anyway, i finally convinced my doctor that, no, seriously, i really need to see a psychologist, i've always needed to see psychologists my whole life, seeing psychologists help me, i can't afford a private psychologist so i need a public one, and after a lot of begging and insisting on my end and a lot of hemming and hawing on her end she finally agreed to refer me. except she forgot to actually send the email she'd been typing in front of me, and then she quit, so there was a lot of confusion and time spent sorting things out until i got my first appointment.

i didn't like my psychologist at first. she was way older than i'm usually comfortable with (that's a personal me-problem that i know is irrational, and i'm not gonna go into the why but yes i'm working on it), and very blunt in an exasperated sort of way. she made me angry sometimes. she made me feel like i wasn't trying hard enough. but she helped me get shit done, so i guess she was doing something right.

in june she called in a psychiatrist to help adjust my medications, so i started taking zoloft in addition to the other medication (remeron, aka mirtazapine) that i was already taking. the mirtazapine was helping with my depression, but my anxiety was still pretty bad. the zoloft helped.

by my second appointment with my psychologist, she asked me whether i could have adhd, or if there was a history of it in my family. now, i have a lot of family with adhd (how closely related we are by blood is a bit of a mystery to me, my family tree is more like an overgrown hedge and who knows who fits where), and my grandma used to joke that the women in our family "all have a little bit of that adhd brain in us", but as far as i knew, nobody in my immediate, direct bloodline had such a diagnosis. i had my suspicions about myself, of course — i knew that not every focus or attention related problem necessarily has a specific attention disorder source, but i also knew that what i was experiencing couldn't be "normal," in the sense that if i walked into a room with 100 people in it, 86 of those people wouldn't necessarily look at a list of my symptoms and go "oh same hat." i've had add on my about me for a while now. maybe that was silly of me; i hadn't been diagnosed with it, and what i knew about the specifics of it were picked up piecemeal off the internet. you know, that super-reliable place where everyone is honest and factual all the time?

anyway, this began the process of investigating the merits of such a potential diagnosis. research was begun. questionnaires were taken. my mom was invited to one of my sessions, in which she revealed that, oh yeah, bee tee dubs, she's always suspected i have adhd. did she mention that she has also apparently always suspected ocd and that i'm autistic? no? whoops, well, she has now.

end of june i was referred to the neuropsychologist devision of the public health care place. over the course of a little over 6 weeks i went in for 2 interviews, in which i answered several questionnaires, talked about my life and childhood and traumas and what my mom had told me about her pregnancy and labor, every possible symptom i'd ever had, and was sent home with even *more* questionnaries. in addition to these, i went in for two rounds of "testing," in which i was tested on my memory, pattern recognition, reaction time, impulse control, and probably a dozen other things. i was nervous. it was exhausting. i wanted answers but was terrified of what those answers would be.

end of august, my mom came with me for the big reveal. and guess what? she was right. primary diagnosis: adhd, special emphasis on the attention deficit part. bonus diagnosis: asperger syndrome. surprise! i'm autistic, i guess.

it was hard to come to terms with. which sounds really silly, since i wouldn't have even been taking those tests if i didn't think the outcome was a possibility. and it's not like the diagnoses were surprising either. the adhd part was easier to accept, mostly because i already felt pretty confident i had it. but the asperger diagnosis was harder. having to unlearn all those ingrained ableist stereotypes and social stigmas is hard, especially when you had some you didn't even realize were there. it's very surreal to think a thought and be like "no, wait, i do that. that joke is about me." it's a very surreal and slightly upsetting experience to realize how biased you are as general rule, but especially about a facet of your own identity you weren't aware of. and the feeling of everything and nothing changing all at once. i've always been like this. a doctor telling me i have two cognitive/developmental disabilities isn't an event that magically gave me these disabilities. my brain has always worked like this. the only difference between me now and me a year ago is that i have an official, medical reason for Why now.

that's another thing: coming to terms with the idea of being "developmentally disabled." it's not like i'm suddenly a different person — i have to constantly remind myself that my brain has always been like this. but having a piece of paper confirming that i am legally entitled to special allowances in the workplace or at school because i have not one, but two "disabilities" is absolutely buckwild to me.

it makes me reevaluate my life and my past. how many situations did i make worse because i did not have the capacity or knowledge about how my own brain works to self-reflect? was i high-functioning in the past because life was simpler? was it because i subconsciously had a better handle on what works for me and what doesn't, and somewhere along the way i lost that? or was it simply because i didn't have the option to be anything other than high-functioning? it's confusing.

i also lost my spot at college. i can still reapply next year if i want, but at least now i know why i was failing out lmao

anyway, by my birthday in september we started the process of adjusting my medication again. upping my zoloft, getting me off remeron, and as of 6 weeks ago or so, beginning ritalin.

it was a rocky start, but i'm up to 60mg now. two pills in the morning, one in the afternoon. i have a goddamn alarm for 8am every day, even weekends. my sleeping is still wonky, but at least im genuinely tired by 8pm every night. the psychiatrist still wants me to try melatonin for a month (even though i told her multiple times it has never worked for me, and my problem has never been "i'm not sleepy enough"), so i'm on a whopping 2mg of melatonin for the next 30 days. norwegians are fucking WEIRD about melatonin, don't even get me started.

a slightly unexpected side-effect (on my end) of these medication changes: remeron made me gain weight. like, a lot of weight. and i was constantly hungry all the time, overeating to ridiculous amounts. why did nobody ever tell me that weight gain and metabolism changes are a side-effect of anti-depressants? i was more active this summer than i'd been in, like, three years and i just got fatter. which was incomvenient because i kept outgrowing my clothes. anyway, a side effect of ritalin is a loss of appetite and general weight loss. the combination of regularly taking ritalin and dropping remeron entirely? i eat a fraction of what i used to before, i've almost entirely stopped snacking, and i've lost 15 lbs in less than a month. i've already noticed my face is slightly slimmer now. maybe by christmas i'll be able to fit into my old tshirts again.

anyway, my psychologist quit, so i have a new one now. i've only seen her a few times, but she's veeeery different from my old one. i can't decide if i like her or not.

in the middle of all this, i've been going to the social security office as well to kind of get some of my own money, possibly help me get a job at some point in the future. my caseworker is super nice. if she's over 30 i'd be shocked. i relate to her really well, she's very helpful and understanding, and she's very patient with me and my bullshit. she's the kind of person where if we met at a party or something we could probably hang out.

anyway, she's helped me get out of the house sometimes. she introduced me to this youth club volunteer group thing called the fountain house, designed for young people who've dealt with or are currently dealing with mental illnesses and such. i hung out there yesterday and the day before and did some basic office work. it's nice. and then there's a work placement place that can either give you a job on site in one of their four departments, or help you get a job at an actual business elsewhere with more support and leniency than you might get if they just hired you off the street. i'd start in their second hand store. they clean and restore all donations they recieve, and they're super fucking cheap. i treated myself to my literal lifelong dream of owning a vintage typewriter (!!!!!) yesterday, because it's almost christmas and goddammit, i've been doing so much shit the past couple of months i deserve it. do i have space for it? not really. do i have a plan on what to use it for? no. was it heavy and miserable trekking through the snow and rain yesterday back and forth? was it worth the backache in the morning? fuck yeah it was.

a fucking lot of things are happening all at once. diagnoses, medications, lifestyle changes, work placement, social clubs, dealing with bureaucracies on all sides just so i can feel like a person again, not to mention juggling hobbies like writing and drawing and maintaining my irl friendships. i'm getting as many balls rolling as i can while i have the opportunity and mental/emotional capacity to, but i'm worried i'll burn out again. i'm stabilizing and slowly building my life back up, but jesus christ it would suck if this stupid house of cards collapsed again. but i'm tentatively optimistic. who knows, maybe it's not to late to course-correct my mistakes.

so long story short, that's why i've barely been active on tumblr for months. that's why i haven't been writing, drawing, or reading fic. it's coming along, but it's slow.

i guess the most important thing is that it's coming along at all.

[abcsofadhd]

On being diagnosed with ADHD in midlife

@campfiresbeerandcoffee got diagnosed with ADHD in their early 50s and I asked them to share their story. 

It’s kinda long but its a damn interesting read about a person’s experience with ADHD and a late diagnosis. It’s VERY well written and I’ve only spaced it out and bolded it for better readability.

Remember, it’s really NEVER too late to get a diagnosis.

I’ve known people with ADHD most of my life. I knew what it was, obviously. It was that boy who was socially inappropriate and weird, the one who got angry too fast, who touched oddly, who couldn’t sit still. 

It was the squirrel brained women I knew, that changed jobs, were super smart, had multiple competencies and could instantly grasp systems, but had so much drive they were always up, always working, always learning. It wasn’t ME.

It didn’t even occur to me that I had ADHD. I wasn’t a problem. I sat quietly in class, lost in my own thoughts, doodling. I could focus for hours on books, on coding, on the grains of sand on a sunny beach. I certainly didn’t have an attention disorder. 

My dad died in my 2nd year of uni. I didn’t do well. Well meaning counselors said I was high strung and should avoid all sugar and stimulants. Are you kidding? Caffeine kept me sane. Eventually I changed majors, and managed to graduate with a BA.

I even managed to get into grad school, and did entrepreneur things too. But eventually I crumbled again and didn’t finish my thesis. I had anger issues. I was high then low. I would rage and weep. I’d spend weeks in apathy, when I had everything I wanted: a business, a wife, wonderful family. But it was a long dark bleak tunnel every day.

Then I heard a radio show on chronic depression and recognized my symptoms. Got some help and medication, and managed to co-found a company.  The anti-depression meds helped, settling on Wellbutrin eventually. But things were still hard.

I got a straight job to help my wife start her career. I worked in an office, coding and structuring information systems. Prestige, recognition, it was great for my ego, good benefits and fair pay. 

10 years in this high performance position I crashed from accumulated stress when my mom died. I was prepared with Wellbutrin and counselling and even so I burned out with major depression and anxiety and ptsd symptoms.  

Took 3 years off work before I dared to take a job with minimal responsibility. In that time I had full on major ADHD symptoms but didn’t recognize them. I couldn’t say what I did all day. 

I couldn’t make a list, couldn’t go in the store. Couldn’t read. Couldn't feed myself. Couldn’t clean. Couldn’t listen. Just- floated in a fog of stress and anxiety. Developed skin issues, auto-immune issues, insomnia, eye twitches. Couldn’t even sit at a computer screen. I was completely useless. Couldn’t leave the house.

Eventually tho, as I worked through what I thought was PTSD, learning to accept the new broken me, I was able to watch a full 20 minute sitcom. Success! I was elated. Who could I tell? Who would celebrate that as an achievement? Yay, you watched TV? Pffft. 

But I was thrilled. And I could go to the store. Maybe even buy a few things. Often I’d just sit in the parking lot. But increasingly I could do some things around the house. Walk the dogs. Buy milk. So I accepted when opportunity offered me a lower-stress job related to my interests.

At my new job, I learned to make eye contact again, slowly re-learned to do simple math again. Cashing out would take me over an hour. I tried so hard to remember names and orders. Failed miserably. Tried to accept the new no-brain me. Found comfort in routine tasks. Developed coping strategies for memory. Accepted that maybe my purpose was to be a heart not a brain. My whole self-worth was always being the smart expert. Now I was busted. But that was ok, because it had to be! 

Medicated with prescription cannabis and started seeing big improvements in depressive symptoms. That led to being able to exercise. Exercise helped immensely. So I was bringing in a bit of money, I was leaving the house and interacting, and felt much better.

Met a co-worker who told me about her ADHD. I understood completely. Had my first “a-ha!” moment when someone asked me how was it that  I understood her. Oh. OH! Other people don’t understand her, and I do. Why?

But, I couldn’t be ADHD, surely? My coworker was classic ADHD in the way I then understood it. Changing topics all over in conversation, but I’d follow right along? We’d chat for hours after work. I grew to admire her strategies for getting things done, her tenacity, her acceptance that she could do things differently. 

And as I admired her force-of-nature engagement with the world, her acceptance of herself, I started to be open to the idea that there was more to ADHD than I thought. I really didn’t think I was ADHD, but how was it I could understand and keep up with her? And when I asked her about it, she looked at me like of course I probably had ADHD, and she thought I already knew?

So after working with her for 2 years I started to read about ADHD, because I was experiencing a little less stress and could focus to read again. But I hadn’t found out yet about the emotional dysregulation. I just knew I was functioning again, kinda. And so I embraced the feelings. I chased them, like an addict, seeking to feel good again.  

And boy did it feel good to let myself feel. I’d learned to build a box around my emotions, because I was always too sensitive, too happy, too sad, too worried. At my coding job, I just lost myself in matrices and code and denied my emotions.  My coworkers had affectionately called me Mr. Roboto. That hurt. But that was the old me. Now, I was going to LIVE and FEEL HAPPY, and it was great. I was elated. 

I partied and made new friends and drank too much and got stoned too much and talked too much and in my exploration  I left such wreckage around me. I was oblivious at first. But when I saw what I’d done, I was in torment. If I couldn’t be a brain, and I couldn’t be a heart, then what good was I? I desperately wanted to be ordinary, but I didn’t know how, and I was going to lose everything.

And then as I tried to get a handle on my behavior, some ADHD memes popped up on social media, and then they popped up with a funny story and I related. And again. And again. And I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Your blog specifically woke me up to the emotional dysregulation aspect, and following that thread of research made my likely ADHD undeniable. So I did the predictable thing and denied it for another year.

Finally I went in for assessment because if I had it, I couldn’t let my kids go untested and if I was going to ask them to try, I had to start with me. Doc didn’t even blink. Basically said, of course you have ADHD. 

This has been everyone’s reaction, when I share my diagnosis with my friends: “Are you really surprised, really?” Yes, dammit, I am! It’s surprising and hard to hear, yes, you are in fact broken. But it’s also freeing. I can stop beating myself up.  I can get appropriate help. I can try meds.

I am terrified of stimulants, because I’m super sensitive to caffeine, and even Wellbutrin was unsustainable for me, causing too much jitters. But I’m taking my Vyvanse and being hopeful. If it doesn’t work out, there is a non stimulant option.

 I know meds won’t solve everything. I know that I have so many of the strategies already, I recognize them in the ADHD forums, and books. But maybe meds will leave me enough energy to address things. Maybe I’ll be able to Get Things Done.

This medicated hopeful happiness does feel a bit like mania, I’ve learned to be distrustful of my happiness. But if it’s going to be helpful, I’m going to try it.  It’s early days.

I’m reading Gina Petra’s Is It You, Me, or Adult ADD? Stopping the Roller Coaster When Someone You Love Has Attention Deficit Disorder. And it’s wrenching. I knew my latest crisis was hard on my family, but I didn’t realize it’s been the whole marriage, it’s been my whole life, school, college, career, midlife! It’s enlightening but hard to read testimonials from people living with untreated ADHD partners, and recognize myself in their stories. I had no idea of the extent ADHD was contributing to my personality and behavior.

My wife and kids deserve to be off the rollercoaster. I also deserve to be happy. I want to look forward to each day again instead of waking up knowing I’m going to fuck up again.

So it’s not a comfortable place to be, here in the spotlight. But it sure as hell beats being in the dark and blindly flinging myself in a new direction. It’s revealing. It means taking personal responsibility. 

But it also means hope. Hope that it can be better. Hope I can stop hurting the people I love. Hope I can be the person I want to be, the person I’ve been on occasion. It means hope for sustainable stable relationships and jobs. 

[inkribbon796]

Candy Man Can-Do

Summary: It’s November 9, and the city gets a rather colorful reminder of how powerful Warfstache is.

Chapter 1:  A Rose-Colored Trap

Next

A.N: I had a separate idea for this birthday story but story but it refused to be written, and it was too long for fit into one chapter. Chapter 2 has way more Warsftache in it, I promise.Have fun.

____________________________________________________________

    It was the first official year the Sides had lived in Egoton when the month of November rolled around. They’d been coming and going from Egoton according to where the Dark Sides were, and now that Deceit and Dark has formed a truce, the Sides were practically here to stay.

  �� This meant getting used to cold spells that were twenty degrees colder than they were used to. The fact that Deceit and Anxiety tended not to do much, leaving the Duke to run amok. And the fact that Warfstache’s birthday was right at the start of the month.

    The first sign that there was something wrong was when Logan woke up. He hit his alarm at seven am and got out of bed, reaching for his glasses and heading to the shower. His glasses seemed like they had an odd film over them and Logan struggled to get it off, his shower being delayed by a whole ten minutes as he fought to fix his glasses and finally gave up in frustration, taking his shower and then storming out. Logan kept close enough to the wall, so that his poor eyesight wouldn’t strain too much trying while trying to step around stuff.

    Walking down into the apartment’s kitchen, Logan fished out a second pair of glasses only to find the same blurry film on them as well.

    “Patt,” Logan called back up into the apartment where Patton and Roman’s rooms were. “Did you and Roman do something with my glasses?”

    There was nothing. Frowning, Logan slowly made his way to the stairs, putting his glasses on and just dealing with the glossy, almost pink film over his glasses. Placing a hand on the railing, Logan realized there was something wrong immediately when his hand hit cotton candy. Recoiling his hand away, Logan looked to see his entire banister was made of cotton candy, but pulling his glasses off made it turn back to normal.

    “That is not good,” Logan looked at the film over it, peering as close as possible to the glasses as he could. Whatever was wrong with his glasses it wasn’t something on top of the lens. It was in the lens.

    “Roman!” Logan called out. “What did you do to my glasses?”

    An insistent pounding came at the front door, and after hesitating, Logan fumbled his way to the door and prayed it wasn’t Remus when he opened it blindly.

    “Logan,” Dr. Iplier’s voice came at him through the brighter outside light. “Please tell me you’re still you.”

    “Doctor?” Logan asked. “My glasses aren’t working.”

    “Yeah, that’s probably how it got Patton,” Dr. Iplier pushed him back into the apartment. “The Host told me to give you these. Don’t ask how he knows your prescription, it’s not the oddest thing he’s done.”

    Logan took the glasses he was passed, a perfect match for his actual glasses, and it didn’t have the film. “What happened, if you’ve already seen Patton I trust that he and Roman are not doing well.”

    “That’s the problem, I don’t know how it started because Anxiety pulled me out. He took some convincing to set Roman free put he pulled him and Patton out. Whatever happened between you all, I think you need to call a therapist.”

    “Anxiety pulled you out of what?” Logan asked.

    Iplier frowned and marched over to the window to pull up the binds to reveal what was, to Logan, a nauseating amount of pastels and the entire city seemed to be made out of candy or some other kind of sweet. “It’s discount Candy Land! I completely forgot you guys haven’t been in town on November 9. This happens every year. Sometimes it’s just A Street and Jay Burne, sometimes it’s the area over Dark’s warehouse. Once he targeted it over the base and nowhere else because he had a problem with me. Wilford kinda goes crazy on this day, and I didn’t even realize that you three weren’t in the base until I saw Patton.”

    “What happened?” Logan asked.

    “Oh, I took pictures, Wilford’s magic completely took them over, but I’ve got the Host and Anxiety waiting, and I’m pretty sure if I leave the two of them alone together the Host will start bleeding, and then Anxiety will probably run off.”

    “Right, let me get my costume,” Logan offered.

    “Don’t put the visor on, if Wilford was able to hook his magic onto your glasses, then I guarantee you, it got onto your visor. Bring your costume, and hopefully the Host and Anxiety can do something with it.”

    “Right, of course,” Logan answered and raced into his room to grab his duffle bag he kept all his gear in, and quickly raced out with Iplier. The entire city looked like it had been dipped in a late-60’s tinged candy nightmare. Almost everyone walking on the streets looked more like cartoon caricatures of themselves than actual people. Logan recognized some of his own neighbors, and didn’t like it. The walk was unnervingly slow. 

    “Why does Warfstache do this, if he has the power to take over the whole city, then why isn’t this the status quo every day?” Logan demanded as Iplier calmly led him into a side alley, where everything seemed a bit more normal.

    “Honestly, I think he forgets he can do this,” Iplier answered. “It’s been almost fifteen years since he’s taken the entire city. Wilford’s a force of nature, it’s why Dark works with him. They don’t work for each other, they work with each other. That’s the scary part about Wilford, he survives daily encounters with Dark and neither of them have killed each other yet.”

    “The Reporter and the Entity are incapable of killing each other,” Host announced his presence and Logan jumped in surprise.

    “Is Anxiety still here?” Dr. Iplier asked.

    “I’m shocked you think so poorly of me, Doc Obvious,” Anxiety called out from the first level of the fire escape.

    “Didn’t want to push my luck,” Iplier reminded. “Just cause you freed me, doesn’t mean you’ll help me take Wilford on.”

    “Dark’s already kicked us out,” Anxiety shrugged. “What’s one more thing on the list?”

    “I appreciate it,” Iplier told him.

    “Logic,” Host held out a coffee cup, looking his way. “This is for the hour.”

    “Oh, thank you,” Logan took the cup and after a sip found it was incredibly similar to how he usually took his coffee. “This will suffice until I can get real sustenance.”

    “Wow, you just took some random cup someone gave you,” Anxiety rolled his eyes, the action barely visible under his hood. “Real smart.”

    “The Host would never poison someone,” Host defended firmly, any hint of humor gone from his voice. “There are easier ways to inflict harm and the Host has no need to harm Logic nor any of his allies.”

    “I take it you were offered a coffee as well,” Logic took another sip, the caffeine greatly improving his mood. “Host is right, he would not poison anyone.”

    “If you can’t trust them, at least take my word for it,” Dr. Iplier took a step forward. “You don’t have to take the coffee, just trust we aren’t going to sell you out.”

    Anxiety was quiet for a little bit. “Don’t know if you haven’t noticed, Doc, trust isn’t usually something I’m given, and I certainly don’t give it out.”

    A thud shook all of them from the conversation, both Logan and Anxiety jumping and looked up to see King of the Squirrels on top of the fire escape, about five squirrels hanging off of him, scurrying around him and the fire escape.

    “Coast is clear, most of the villains are waiting the storm out,” King climbed down the outside of the fire escape, Anxiety pulled his hood farther down to hide his face and backing away from him.

    “How fortunate,” Host gasped as his narrations let him speak again. “I take it Dark’s enforcers are not roaming the streets.”

    “Well one of his Lieutenants was roaming around my park, so I had to hide over here,” King responded. “He’s got some new ones, or at least one new one. But if he got rid of Bargs, you can bet he got rid of Sierra too.”

    “That only means Darkiplier is moving through the timeline faster than the Host predicted,” Host responded in concern, confusing Logan because it was abundantly clear that King and the Host were speaking in some form of code he hadn’t known they shared.

    “So what are we supposed to do?” Anxiety said, keeping his hood drawn low, especially when King looked his way. Which intrigued Logan.

    “The Host advises the Sides and Egos stand back,” Host motioned and King jumped off the fire escape to give Host some more room.

    Iplier motioned for Anxiety to come down, and he did slowly, almost falling down to keep his hood covering his face. The Host held his hands up, as if he was shuffling through papers, and blood started leaking through the bandages. Anxiety looked like a cat about to bolt back into the candy cane lined streets behind them. Logic admittedly felt a little unnerved as well at the Host’s gift. His future sight tended to still get a rise out of him.

    “Hey, Doc, is that normal?” Anxiety whispered to Iplier, his unease loosening his grip on his hood, and King studied his face. Logan could see recognition in his eyes for a moment or two.

    “Unfortunately yes,” Dr. Iplier frowned, “I’ll have to take him back to the base after this.”

    “I can take him,” King offered, keeping his voice low as Host continued to look into the future. “I can grab any of the other heroes we need when I bring him back.”

    “As much as I’d like to, I need to change his bandages and he might need a saline IV,” Iplier reported. “King, you can take Logic and Anxiety to wherever the Host needs all of you.”

    Iplier slowly moved towards the Host as his hands stilled and his head tracked down something. “Doctor,” the Host warned and Iplier was quick to move it to support the seer and keep him upright.

    “Right, I’ll take you back to the base,” the doctor told him.

    “The good doctor should listen and listen well,” the Host warned. “Let the King of the Squirrels take the Host back to the base.”

    “I’m not going to let you bleed out,” Dr. Iplier spat at him, “I’m your doctor.”

    “King cannot be present when Wilford is confronted,” the Host struggled to stand on his own, but Iplier just helped lower him to the floor. “The Red Prince is located on 8th Street. Let Wilford interview him, and he will survive. Anyone else will not survive being shot. Let Henrik treat the Host until the good doctor returns, he will survive.”

    “You better not be pulling another—” Dr. Iplier spat.

    “The Host is not,” Host spat back, blood dripping from his thoroughly soaked bandages, it was getting so bad that it starting to slip down his face. “King.”

    “Right,” King moved in, trying to get Iplier to give him the Host. “Come on, Eddy, I got him.”

    “You better,” Dr. Iplier warned.

    “I’ll take the quick route,” King smiled. “Don’t want to wind up on your bad list.”

    King quickly left with the Host, the two of them retreating into the streets to head towards the base.

    “I hate it when they do that,” Iplier glared after them. “Let’s go.”

    “Right, don’t have to tell me twice,” Anxiety commented.

[donnachess2-blog]

8 Early Signs Of Erectile Dysfunction

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Treatment is usually prescribed by the physician to assist the affected person get the suitable medicine

Non-invasive: no hospital keep, surgery, or anesthesia

Chlorpromazine (Thorazine)

Stopping smoking

Note annotations, or

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Alternate sides

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— GAINSWave (@GainsWave) December 30, 2019

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The primary injection is carried out by Dr. Eid, and is used both for analysis and to resolve how a lot medicine can be required in the future for that particular patient to have sexual exercise. In other phrases, the remedy dose for every particular person is tailor-made to the erectile response to the primary injection. After that, the patient learns to inject under Dr. Eid's watchful eye and teaching. With somewhat apply and familiarity, the patient positive aspects confidence with the injection approach such that he is able to perform it at home. Most patients find that they get used to the needle sensation over time. The number of injections is to not exceed 12 every month, and ought to be spaced as evenly as doable. The positioning of injection should alternate between left and proper side of the penis. The most typical aspect effect reported (37%) is a mild to reasonable dull ache, which happens 5 to 20 minutes after injection. GAINSWave ED Treatment is elevated by standing, and subsides when the erection is gone.

He just did not seem conscious of what he'd completed and what he was apologising for. He informed the tribunal that the GMC had made a 'leap' by assuming the sachets have been for an athlete however that if the gel was for Sutton, as Freeman claimed, the coach would have instructed him. My relationship with Shane was very up and down, as I believe with everybody, however Shane is a really open guide. Shane got here to me many instances. I simply did not understand why he would not tell me. The Testogel was a part of a package which, it was alleged, additionally included the erectile dysfunction drug Viagra, addressed to Freeman and delivered to the National Cycling Centre. Peters agreed and also advised that an athlete utilizing it will shortly fail a doping test. It can be picked up in a short time,' he stated. On Tuesday, former head coach Sutton stormed out of the hearing after telling Freeman to come out from behind a display and look him in the attention. Freeman was absent from the listening to on Thursday and O'Rourke stated: 'Unfortunately, Dr Freeman had an adversarial reaction to what happened on Tuesday. He was as a result of see a psychiatrist on Friday. Group physio Burt, who took supply of the package deal and raised the alarm, is due to offer proof on Friday. MARTIN SAMUEL: Don't fall for the sideshow.

Testosterone is essential for a healthy libido and normal sexual perform, and erectile dysfunction sufferers identified to have low testosterone enhance when placed on prescription testosterone substitute therapy. Similarly, studies have shown that taking over-the-counter supplements containing DHEA, a hormone that the body converts to testosterone and estrogen, will help alleviate some instances of ED. But DHEA may cause uncomfortable side effects, including suppression of pituitary function, acne, hair loss and its long-term safety is unknown, says McCullough. Because of this, many consultants discourage use of the supplements. Ginseng. Korean crimson ginseng has lengthy been used to stimulate male sexual function, however few studies have tried systematically to affirm its benefits. In one 2002 study involving 45 men with significant ED, the herb helped alleviate symptoms of erectile dysfunction and brought "enhanced penile tip rigidity." Experts aren't certain how purple ginseng would possibly work, though it is thought to promote nitric oxide synthesis. Espinosa. Discuss along with your doctor before taking it since ginseng can interact with medicine you may already be taking and trigger allergic reactions. Pomegranate juice. Drinking antioxidant-rich pomegranate juice has been shown to have quite a few health benefits, including a lowered danger for heart disease and excessive blood pressure. Does pomegranate juice also protect towards ED? No proof exists, but outcomes of a examine revealed in 2007 had been promising. The authors of this small-scale pilot study known as for additional research, saying that bigger-scale studies would possibly show pomegranate juice's effectiveness in opposition to erectile dysfunction. Yohimbe. Before Viagra and the other prescription erectile dysfunction drugs became out there, medical doctors typically prescribed a derivative of the herb yohimbe (yohimbine hydrochloride) to their patients affected by ED. But experts say the remedy shouldn't be particularly efficient, and it can cause jitteriness and other issues. McCullough. "And I believe the herb will not be as potent because the pharmaceutical model." What's extra, evidence reveals that yohimbe is associated with excessive blood stress, anxiety, headache, and different health issues. Experts discourage its use. Join MedicineNet Newsletters!

[brianandthemays]

Love is a Polaroid (Roger Taylor x reader) Part 10

A/N Wow I feel like I”m finally picking up some sort of fan base for this fic! Which is fun! I really hope y’all are enjoying it! I know I’m enjoying writing it, every chapter just gets more any more fun! 

Anywho I wanna actually start a spotify playlist so if you have any song ideas please send them here

I’d rlly love y’alls input so please send me some asks!

As always! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG AND SEND ME SOME ASK! IT MAKES MY DAY EVERY SINGLE TIME SOMEONE SENDS ME SOMETHING ABOUT THIS FIC AND I’D LOOOOVE TO DISCUSS IT WITH YOU!

Also! HUGE shout out to @sweet-ladyy​ who, with everything going on in her life, took the time to read and edit this. Y’all neeed to read Matters of the Heart it’s SPICING Up omg... 

Word Count: 3.4+

Warnings: Fluff, i guess angst, its cute

Other parts: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9 

______________________________________

That was how you somehow ended up in Roger’s car, heading to his family’s home in Norfolk. You were not ecstatic about the offer at first. 

               “Why don’t you come home with me?” His lips were soft on your neck but that didn’t stop you from turning in his grasp and scoffing at him. 

               “I don’t think that's a good idea.” 

But after awhile, Roger wore you down, convincing you to come with him. 

               “They’ll love you!” he insisted. “Think about it, just us for a week.”

You couldn’t deny that the thought of being alone with Roger in his hometown for a week was nice. But you still felt like things were moving quickly. So, you shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself.

               “It’s too soon, we’ve only been together for a few months, Roger!” 

He frowned at you.

               “We can go slow! We have a guest room, you can stay there!” His eyes were pleading you, his lip jutting out in a pout. “Please?” 

And that was it. Now you were sitting in his passenger seat with the window rolled down and the music blaring some Fleetwood Mac song as the wind blew through your hair. Roger’s hand was clasped tightly over yours, with his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the back. You look over at him as he drove, his dirty blonde hair was scattered in the wind and all you wanted to do was run your hand through it. He wore his sunglasses which he insisted helped him see better but you just scoffed at the fact that he bought prescription sunglasses because his normal ones made him look “like a tosser”. 

               “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He smirked, glancing over at you. You blushed but didn’t look away. Instead you raised your eyebrows at him and squeezed his hand once before releasing it to scrambled around in your bag. 

               “Good idea!” You presented the Polaroid that you had snatched from his room before leaving that morning. He flashed a wide smile in your direction as you flashed the camera. “Eyes on the road.” 

He grumbled at you but looked back towards the road. He flipped his hand back over, inviting you to hold onto it. You looked down at his hand an roamed over the course calluses over his fingers. You reached your fingers out and brushed over them softly. His hand was so rough from scars and scratches from various fights and gigs. 

               “They don’t hurt.” 

You glance over at him. His mouth was skewed to one side and his head was tilted as if he were thinking. You looked back down at his hand and shook your head. Your boyfriend could not have rough hands. You reached down in your bag again and this time come up with a small bottle of lotion. 

               “What are you doing?” he questioned, turning his head to look over at you. 

You move his face back towards the road with your hand, giggling softly. “Eyes on the road.” 

He humphed but obeyed. You poured a dot of lotion over his hand and slowly start to rub it in. You moved it over each finger, making sure to fill every crack and rough spot. Roger let out a small groan at the feeling of the cool lotion over his rough hand and you smiled over at him. “Feel nice?” 

               “Yeah…” he responded, stretching out his fingers. You slide yours in with his and squeeze slightly. A silence fell over the two of you once again, comfortable and relaxed. It didn’t take long after that before you started to see signs and buildings leading to Norfolk. You began to feel nervous again. You were meeting Roger’s parents after dating him for 4 months. What were they going to think of you? 

               “Hey, relax.” Roger kissed your knuckles softly. “They’re gonna love you.” 

               “Are you sure this is okay? I could find a hotel nearby. I could--” 

               “Stop.” He cut you off quickly, knowing where this rambling was going. “You’re coming home with me and that’s final.” 

You bit your lip, still feeling uneasy.                                                                                   

  “You’re the type of girl they’ve been begging me to bring home forever,” he mentioned. “Smart, respectful… everything they wanted me to be.”

You looked over at him. Roger was one of the smartest people you knew, he just wouldn’t let himself see that. Respectful wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for him but when it came to you, he was a perfect gentleman. Well, not perfect. There were often times he would say crude things in your ear while you were in public that would make you blush, but he treated you well and never pushed you too far. 

               “Roger, I think you’re being hard on yourself,” you told him. “Your parents love you.” 

He didn’t respond. He did, however, grip his wheel a little tighter. 

Eventually, you and Roger pulled up to a house a little outside the main city.  It was a quaint house, that didn’t quite match Roger’s look. But it was cute and you felt a little more relaxed in the comfortable area. You stepped out of the car and stood in the front lawn. There was a soft breeze flowing and it felt nice, it felt like home. 

               “Ready?” 

You turned and saw Roger holding yours and his bags, smiling softly at you. You nodded and let him take the lead up to the door.  He knocked on the door and came to stand next to you.

“It’s gonna be okay, love,” he insisted, placing a kiss on your temple. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

A moment later, the door opened revealing a women you assumed to be Roger’s mother. A big smile broke out across her face when she saw you. 

               “Roger!” she cried, pulling him into a hug. He grumbled before loosely wrapping his arms around his mother. 

               “Hey, mum.” He kissed her cheek before pulling away and taking your hand, tugging you towards him. “This is (Y/N), remember I told you about her.” 

She smiled at you, glancing up and down over you. You swallowed hard and held out your hand before introducing yourself. “It’s so nice to meet you.” 

               “Oh, honey, you don’t know how happy I am that Roger’s found a nice girl like you.” His mother ignored your hand and pulled you into a big hug, squeezing you tightly.  You yelped slightly before hugging her back, letting out a nervous chuckle. 

               “Mum, please don’t suffocate my girlfriend,” he groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone. 

               “Oh, leave me alone, child.” She released you letting you take a few steps back. You smiled at her, letting her know you appreciated her kindness. “Now, Roger, why don’t you take your things upstairs while I introduce (Y/N) to your father.” 

Roger glanced over at you, checking to see if you’d be okay on your own. You nodded at him, giving him the answer he needed before replying. “Sounds great, mum.” 

She lead you inside, Roger turning right to go up some nearby stairs. You watched him go, trying to shove your anxiety down and out of your brain as you followed his mother into the living space. 

               “Michael, come meet Roger’s girlfriend!” she called into the house. “Why don’t you sit here while I put some tea on you.” 

You nodded, sitting on the couch awkwardly, as she disappeared into the  kitchen. You sat alone in the quiet for a few minutes, looking around the room. It was a nice living space with a few couches and TV sitting on a shelf. It reminded you of what you had at home and a pang of guilt shot through you. You tried to ignore it by looking over at a picture sitting next to the couch. It was a picture of a young Roger that made you smile. He was so young and wild looking. His hair was shooting in all directions and his smile had a mischievous glint in it. 

               “So.” 

The new deep voice startled you, causing you to jump from your seat. You looked over at the new man in the room and saw him smiling at your reaction. 

               “Didn’t mean to scare you, dear. I’m Michael, Roger’s father.” 

Your eyes widened and you stood quickly to come shake his hand. “I’m (Y/N), thank you so much for letting me stay at your house this week, Mr. Taylor.” 

He waved you off, coming to sit in the cushioned chair next to the couch. “It’s Michael, Mr. Taylor was my father. And you’re always welcome here, dear.” 

               “Thank you,” you said you him. “Michael.” 

He smiled at you, and motioned for you to sit. “So, tell me about yourself.” 

You cleared your throat “Well…” desperately trying to think of something to say about yourself. “I’m studying at Ealing… for Public Relations with a minor in Design.” 

               “An art school!” He huffed. “Interesting. I don’t know how I would trust Roger there. Your parents must be very trusting.” 

You looked down at the floor. “Actually, my parents wanted me to stay home. Didn’t think I should bother with a real job.” You laughed lightly, trying to make it seem that you’re not as nervous are you are. 

               “Well, then it was kind of them to pay for your college education,” Mr. Taylor responded. 

               “Actually, I’m paying for myself.” 

               “What?” Roger’s voice came from the doorway. Your head whipped up to his, your eyes meeting. You had tried so desperately to keep your family struggles away from him, it wasn’t his problem. “You’re paying for yourself?” 

               “Um, yeah…” You shifted in your seat. “I’m on a lot of scholarship, though. It’s not a big deal.” 

He didn’t look convince, but as he opened his mouth to say something more but at that moment his mother walked in with a tray of tea and biscuits. You glanced at Michael who was staring apologetically at you. You took one of the cups of tea gingerly into your hand, avoiding Roger’s gaze. You could feel his eyes burning into your head as he wondered why you had left a major detail about your life out of your conversations. 

The rest of the evening went relatively smoothly. Creating conversation easily with his parents and avoiding the subject of school and your parents all together. Over dinner, Roger keep his hand on your knee, rubbing smooth circles into the soft skin on the side. You appreciated the gesture, resting your hand on top of his. 

               “So, how did you two meet?”his mother asked near the end of the meal. You looked over at Roger, smiling at the story. 

               “Well, I had just finished visiting my sister, who goes to Poly, and I had just sat down to read my book when Roger came running around the corner being chased by some--” 

               Roger’s hand squeezed your knee tightly, and you glanced over at him. His eyes silently pleading you to leave out some details of that story. 

               “By some… friends… and he saw me and tripped,” you finished. 

               “Guess you could say I fell at first sight,” Roger joked, trying to take attention away from your slip up. 

His mother cooed affectionately, going on about how romantic it was and how you were just destined to meet. You couldn’t help but stare at Roger, thinking about how circumstantial your meeting was. If you hadn’t been in that exact spot, at that exact time, you would never had met Roger. It made your heart ache just to think about that. 

               “Yeah, we really are lucky,” you murmured thoughtfully.  He looked over at you and gave you a gentle smile, a similar thought probably going through his head. You turned his hand over and slipped your fingers into his, loving the feeling of his hand in yours. 

               “Well, you seem good for him, (Y/N),” his mother concluded finally, pushing away from the table. You went to follow her actions, beginning to pick up your plate but she took it from your hand. “Please, you’re our guest!” 

               “I’m going to go show her around a little bit, ‘kay mum?” Roger pushed away from the table, resting his hand on the small of your back. 

               “Alright, don’t stay out too late, Roger Taylor,” she commanded, putting a hand on her hip. 

               “Mmhmm, alright mum.” He began to lead you out of his house, back into the open air.  He closed the door behind him and took a big breath. 

               “They’re sweet.” 

               “You don’t need to lie to me.” 

               “Roger!” 

He laughed loudly, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the street. You walked closely together, your his head bent to be near yours as you chatted and laughed together. His neighborhood was very small and nothing like the city of London. You liked it though. It was a place you could imagine settling down in. 

               “So this is where Roger Taylor grew up,” you looked up at him, grinning widely. 

He nodded, glancing around, looking fondly at the buildings. “Yeah, this is home.” He pointed at what looked like a primary school. “That’s where I played the drums for the first time. They had a little kit in the music room, and I just liked to make noise so my music teacher let me play.” He smiled at the memory. “Mum wouldn’t let me take my kits to Uni… so I just bought a new one when I got there.” 

               “That’s a cute image,” you commented. “Little Roger banging away at his little drum kit.” 

               “That’s not the only thing I can bang.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

               “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

               “C’mon, you walked right into it!” 

The two of you continued on, him pointing out buildings and telling stories along the way. You loved hearing his stories about his childhood. All the places he got in trouble, places he grew up and learned about life. It’s weird coming to his childhood town, he was so different now, at least when he was around you. 

Eventually, you came upon a bridge that was over a road next to a field of flowers. He climbed up on the railing then helped you to sit next to him. He kept his arm around you, helping you feel more stable on the railing as you leaned into him. His fingers brushed your arm softly as the wind blew smoothly through your hair. 

               “Why didn’t you tell me about your parents?” 

You knew the question was coming but it didn’t help you feel less uneasy about the topic. You looked down at your hands, twisting  your fingers around each other, leaning slightly away from him. 

               “It wasn’t important,” you deflected. 

               “Not important? Are you joking?” You couldn’t decipher his tone. Was he angry? Upset? Annoyed? Either way you felt yourself closing in again. You looked back up at him, still feeling uneasy. 

               “No, Roger, I’m not. You don’t need to know about my issues with my family,” you argued. 

               “Yes I do, that’s how a relationship works, isn’t it?” he shot back. “We have to tell each other things.” 

               “And how would you know how a relationship works, seeing as you’ve never had a real one.” 

As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted them. Your eyes widened at your own words as you watched his shoulders deflate. He moved his arm from around your shoulder, bringing his hands to rest in his lap. 

               “You’re right.” His voice was quiet, and it reminded you of that night 4 months ago when you put him to bed after his fight. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, with you.” He looked over at you. “But I’m trying my damn hardest not to let you get away.” 

You felt your eyes glass over as a tear dropped from your eye. Roger reached up and brushed the tear off your cheek. 

               “I just want to know what’s going on up there.” He taps your temple lightly, drawing a small laugh out of you. You wipe your nose, willing yourself not to let anymore tears fall. 

               “My parents… didn’t see the point in me going to a real college,” you began glancing over at him. He nodded, encouraging you to continue. “They just wanted me to go to some community college and get a basic education then settle down somewhere and have five kids.” You chuckled slightly at that. Imagining yourself doing just that, becoming the perfect trophy wife. “So when I told them I wanted to study Public Relations maybe minor in design or journalism. They told me that if I left, not to bother coming back.” You gauged Roger’s reaction. Confusion flooded his face, mixed with some anger so you rested your hand on his leg. “So I left. I’m on almost a full scholarship at Ealing and its grade based. Which is why I can’t afford to fail.” 

               “What about your sister? Isn’t she studying medicine?” He asked, his brain going through everything you told him. 

               “She was the oldest. She got to go to school and live her life. But my mother sheltered me. Thought I was her perfect little girl.” You shook your head. “Guess I’m just a disappointment now.” 

               “Hey, that’s not true.” He cupped your cheek and made you look up at him. “You’re bloody brilliant. You work so hard, and are so determined. You saw right through me the moment you met me, and had me-- quite literally -- speechless. You’re something I’ve never seen before, and everyone around you can see it.” You felt your lip quiver, as your struggled more and more not to break down right there. “You make me want to slow down and watch the world.”

You stared at him for a moment longer before leaning your forehead on his chest. He wrapped his arms back around you, rubbing up and down lightly. 

               “I just want to be here with you, Roger. I don’t want to think about anything else.” You kissed his chest softly. “Not school, not my shitty parents. I just want you.” 

               “You have me, love.” He kissed the top of your hair. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

So there you sat, on the railing of the bridge, wrapped in each other. You sat there until the sun went down behind the trees and the stars began to specle the sky. At that point, he helped you off he railing and guided you back to his house. He guided you up the stairs and into his guest room. He stood, leaning in the doorway watching you walk around the room. 

               “I’m just down the hall if you need anything,” he told you, quirking his lips to the side. 

You walked back over to him, placing your hands on his chest. “Okay.” 

He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. You reciprocated for a minute before pulling away and smiling at him. He nodded before turning and walking down the hall away from you. You watched him for a moment before closing the door and settling in. 

You couldn’t sleep. You closed your eyes, tossed and turned but sleep would not come. Your fight with Roger kept playing over in your head. You didn’t know why you said those things. You didn’t know why you always shut people out. You really liked him. You were beginning to think maybe even love him, but it was still too soon. Now, Roger was the only person besides Freddie who knew about your parents. You rolled over again and looked at the clock. It had barely been an hour since you laid down. This was not going to work. 

So you got up. You rolled out of bed and walked down the hall to where Roger told you he would be. You opened his door quietly, trying not to wake him. When you opened the door, he was still awake; his arms behind his head, staring at the opening door. 

               “Can’t sleep?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “I’m sorry.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What for?” 

               “For what I said earlier…” You rubbed the back of your neck. 

He stared at you for a moment and then rubbed his eyes. “C’mere.” 

               “What?”

He opened his arms, and you realize what he meant. So you obliged, crawling in between his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to his chest and kissing your forehead softly before settling in.  Being in his arms felt so right, so natural and you never wanted to leave.

_______________________

I hope y’all liked it!

Tag list (SO VERY OPEN): @dove-turned-destroyer @16wiishes @angiefangirlworld-2 @queenismyrealdad @blondecarfucker @perriwiinkle @chlobo6 @wolverinesbeer @onevisionliz @catnissprior-blog @thewinchesterchronicles 

[chuckling-chemist]

A Pleasant Meet

((Don’t mind me​, only reposting this piece since I made some adjustments to it before I put it on Writscrib, and with Writscrib unfortunately ending well...guess this is my only platform again. As such, the original version of this has been deleted since I honestly couldn’t tell you where the edits were made and it’s a solid ~6000 words. This was originally written about 2 years ago, so if it feels like it, that’s why. Also I do apologise that the read more doesn't work on mobile app. I added the long post tag but that's all I can do))

Pallia expected a lot of things today. It was the last day of the summer festivities - the three perigees that made the weather feel unbearable even at the dead of night - so there was sure to be more drinking and partying than she particularly enjoyed. She anticipated plenty of injuries and a few fights, but not many trolls would stop by unless something life threatening happened. If that was the case, it would likely be a low or midblood stopping in, barely putting pressure on whatever wound they had or with a friend carrying them in a panic. She was used to most of them being perturbed by her habits and reputation of outlaws coming in for a spin. For all she knew, they thought she was a former outlaw herself. Which she supposed she was.

Or it would be one of the outlaws or pirates to run in, as they were far more wont to do, a knife or a broken sword piece shoved somewhere where it shouldn't be. All the pirates already knew each other and were likely aware by this point that her hive was a neutral zone. Nor were they put off by all the rumors of her being a necrophiliac or witch doctor that inevitably float around when you use dead bodies for experimentation. Word travels fast. She wasn't even sure how so many of them found out about her.

So she wasn't terribly surprised when she got two sharp knocks on her lab door and Aisral entered, thankfully making plenty of noise so Pallia was actually aware of her presence. Nor was she surprised when Aisral said Mayola, a fuchsiablood, had been in the front room for a full five minutes and had been trying to get Pallia's attention before starting to pester Aisral on Trollian. And with Aisral in the middle of making a unitard that doubled as a cloaking device, she was not happy with the interruption. So with a quick apology to Aisral, she swiftly took off her prescription goggles and replaced them with half-moon glasses to run out and see what Mayola needed. That was where the unexpected thing happened.

Mayola herself seemed fine. She was currently leaning on the wall, arms crossed and fins flared out. A scowl was evident on her face. On the table in the front room laid some sort of seadweller body, dressed in a black overcoat, though they couldn't have been comfortable. She had to figure at least a foot of them hung off the table. "Couldn' take more time, could ya short stuff?" Mayola asked irritably.

"Sorry! I had an accident recently and --"

"Yeah, yeah. Don' care," Mayola said, waving a hand dismissively. As she spoke, her fins seemed to be retracting. "Didn' come for me, anyhow." She pointed to the table.

"FLARP? Again?" Pallia asked sharply. It wouldn't be after the first time after all and as much as she liked Mayola, the troll had a tendency to forget her own strength.

"Nah, found 'em at the festival. Nearly stepped on the fucker had it not been for Eeks!" Mayola said.

Pallia nodded, all other thoughts gone, and crouched next to the body, doing a quick observation. They - no, they seemed to be he - was a gaunt violetblood swimming in a black overcoat with violet trim. Underneath the overcoat was a full suit with a violet bow tie and a rather filled looking leather messenger bag crossed his torso. His fins were large and drooping, the tops even curling downwards. Dark purple circles surrounded his eyes. Pallia gingerly took an arm that was hanging off the side of the table, rolled up the sleeve just enough to reveal a bony wrist and checked for a pulse.

"So?" Mayola asked.

"He's alive," Pallia said. "Do you know him? I can't imagine there's many seadwellers in this area."

"There ain't. Me and the princess. Oh, and Niehea? No dudes though." She shrugged. "And 's the first time I've seen 'em. Doubt the fucker's from here, else he mighta not been in such a heavyass coat." Mayola pushed herself off the wall and headed towards the door.

Pallia frowned. "Heading out?"

"'Course. Gotta reputation to hold up for bein' an asshole...and I'm needed for some fineass drinkin'," she said. With a final wave, she added, "I'm out, short stuff."

And so that left Pallia with the mystery violetblood. If she had to take a guess, he was probably dehydrated. She could hook him up to an IV, but she would have to move him to one of the side rooms, and while he couldn't be heavy, she was still only five feet tall while he was...well, taller. Nor did she want to move the IV to a room where strangers could see it. Witch doctors no one wanted to mess with, but real scientists might draw unwanted attention of a purple variety. She could theoretically feed water by pouring it, but when the patient is passed out, that could be dangerous. So logically, the easiest step at this moment was to wake him up and just grab a bottled water from the mini fridge underneath her counter space. Something that thankfully, she could easily do without arousing suspicion.

Without another thought, Pallia slowly ran a finger down the gills along his neck.

The result was immediate. The violetblood's eyes shot open and she darted towards the fridge to grab a water. She had learned from more than a few times of waking up pirates that they never took kindly to being woken up, even if it was from fainting. He didn't. He didn't even move. Had it not been for the fact Pallia had just woken him up, she probably would've assumed he wasn't awake.

Finally, as she was heading back to the table to give him the water, he slowly sat and said something Pallia couldn't decipher.

"So…how're you feeling?" Pallia asked.

"You must not have heard me. I said I feel terrible," the violetblood said, turning his head towards her. His voice sounded posh, something she didn't surprise her, but far from unfriendly, at least in her mind. Then again, after Mayola's faux-lowblood accent, anything sounded posh yet outwardly friendly. "Sorry, I must not have adjusted to how sound is on air."

She shook her head. "No, I'm sure you were fine." She crouched back next to him and handed the water. "This should help make you feel better."

"Water? This is not because I am a seadweller, is it?" He shook his head. "No, no. That sounds bad. I merely wish to assure you are not just concerned that I should return to the ocean immediately."

"Hm?" Pallia cocked her head to the side, processing what he said. "Oh no! You're dehydrated."

The violetblood blinked several times. "No, no. I am feeling perfectly alright. It was probably just another fainting spell...possibly an anxiety attack." He stopped to hold up a shaky hand to his face and gently returned it to his side. "I just need sleep, I assure you."

"Your fins are drooping and you're wearing, like four layers on a hot night. You need water," Pallia said.

"Excuse me?"

She sighed. "You don't know? Have you ever been out of the water?"

"I just fail to see how a landdweller would know such a thing when you do not even have fins. Er...no offense. Was that offensive?" The seadweller was pointedly avoiding eye contact as he spoke, seeming to find more interest in his fingers.

"You're not the first seadweller that's had this problem."

"Fainting spells?"

"Dehydration. It's pretty common with seadwellers coming up to the area, expecting it to be cold when it's really hot and humid," she said matter-of-factly.

"...Oh."

Pallia reached up to touch one of the fins again, just to push the curl up. The violetblood let out a sharp gasp and his head suddenly turned towards her. A hand went to push her own away, but she had already pulled away, face flushed.

"Don't!" he exclaimed, eyes wide and a faint tint of violet on his face. "Oh dear. Apologies, I did not mean to snap. That is just…" his voice trailed off and he looked back away from her to his fingers instead, "sensitive, so to speak. For most, anyway. And I am not above the natural law of seadwellers to be an exception to that rule."

"It is? I didn't know that," Pallia said.

"You did not? I would have suspected you did, considering what you were talking about earlier," the violetblood said.

"Nope! No mentions in any readings I've done, any seadwellers I need to wake up I touch their gills not their fins, and the only seadweller I really ever have to service normally isn't in too much harm physically. She's the one who brought you here," Pallia said.

The violetblood was silent for a while, before finally looking back up at her quizzically. "You did what to my gills?"

"Well, if you ever need to wake a seadweller up, all you need to do is touch their gills. Natural instinct, I presume, even though you have two functioning respiration systems, that since they likely started in the water they want to preserve their breathing. Landdwellers have a similar function if you try to suffocate them in their sleep. Seadwellers might have that too, but I'd rather not wake someone up by actually trying to suffocate them when I can just tap on their gills and get the exact same reaction," Pallia said brightly. "Though, normally I have to do more than what I did to you. I barely touched them and your ocu...uh, glance​...wait...eyes opened!"

The violetblood absently started touching his gills. "They...they do?" he asked.

"Yeah. Did they never teach you this stuff in schoolfeeding?"

"Ah...no. I suppose it just was not extremely important at the time," he admitted. "How do you know all of this?"

"Reading!" Pallia blurted out. It wasn't a total lie, as some of it she certainly had learned by reading the documents left in the building before it was her hive. The gross anatomy...not so much. "Lot of it."

"That is it? Just reading? Odd, one would have suspected we would have come across similar works," he said. He stood up and pulled the collar on his overcoat up, successfully hiding his gills and even his extravagant fins, to some degree at least, from the side. It matched the rest of his body: looking slightly too long and out of proportion with the rest of the coat. At least I know why he's wearing that thing.

"You should probably take that off," Pallia said. "It's crazy hot out there and daylight'll break soon. You're already dehydrated."

"I...are you sure? No one will attempt to rob me of any personal belongings I may have, or attack me simply because of my caste? Or something far worse. Not to mention I do not even know where to stay and...oh dear. What if--"

"You'll be fine," Pallia interrupted. "If anyone actually tries to rob you tell them you came from the clinic and they'll back off. Trust me. And there's a temporary hivestem you can stay at. It's in the richest part of the city, right up in the front where there's normally traffic. Tall building. Don't think you can miss it. It's a pretty nice place. And drink the water. Seriously, you'll feel better." She gave him the warmest smile she could muster for a stranger.

"And if I do not find it?" he asked worriedly.

Pallia paused for a while. She couldn't let him stay here, not right now at least. Then again...it would only be fair. She'd extend the offer to an innocuous lowblood to stay at her hive for a night, at least in the main room, so she should extend it out to a highblood or seadweller. But at the same time, she didn't have any actual sopor slime nor recuperacoon for him to rest in and if he did rest here in his condition, he wouldn't get any real sleep. She saw how irritable Aisral was when she initially stopped sleeping in it before levelling out. So the smarter decision would be to send him to the temporary hivestem, at least tonight. But if he couldn't find it, he may as well have some sort of contact for the place. "Do you have Trollian?" she asked.

"Erm, yes," the violetblood said cautiously. "Why?"

"I was just going to give you my account name, and if you had any problems you could message me," she said. "You don't have to give me yours. I don't really know any violetbloods personally who'd be messaging me, anyway."

He took a small sip of water before speaking. "Are you certain?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

"I simply wish to be certain, is all," he said. "You do not have to do this if you do not want to."

She shrugged and said, "It's only fair. I'd do it to anyone else." She ripped off a piece of paper that said calculatingAlchemist and handed it to the violetblood, who quickly shoved the paper into his pocket. "There you go. In case you have any trouble!" She glanced outside past the glass doors. "You should probably head out. It's getting late."

His head jerked away from her and he looked into a nearby window to see that dawn was just starting to break. "Yes, so it is. Thank you," he said with a small smile.

"No problem!" Pallia exclaimed. "And best of luck!"

***

Sure enough, Dontoc found the hotel - at least that's all he could fathom what she meant by temporary hivestem with his knowledge of landdweller slang limited to books - with almost no problem. It was an impossibly tall building with a smaller wooden edifice jutting out of the left side. Even without a sign, it had to be the hotel. It was the only building in the rich section, if not the entire city, that was nearly this tall. An impressive feat too, as he remembered several of the buildings appeared to have extra stories stacked on as an after thought. But here, it looked as if a strong wind would topple the whole building, yet it didn't so much as budge.

A hand absently went into his pocket as he walked and found the slip of paper. He felt bad for having her Trollian handle without using it, even though the more reasonable side of him gently reminded him he didn't have to use it if he didn't need to. Was she expecting a message? Even one to let her know he found it and got there safely? After all, if she said to message him if there was a problem, she would want to know if everything went smoothly. But then again, would she really care that much about some stranger dropped onto a table? He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, attempting to force the thoughts out. He would worry about that once he got past the necessary social interaction.

He walked up to the desk and gave a quiet cough. The receptionist, a male cobaltblooded troll with small horns, gave him a wide smile.

"Why hello, hello! What can I do for you?" he asked.

Dontoc froze. He looked down onto the countertop and took a long drink of water. It should buy him enough time to save face.

Finally, he choked out, "Ah...yes. I am...um...here for a room."

The troll gave him a quick onceover before nodding. "Really now? Don't get a lotta seadwellers comin' in. Where ya from?"

Dontoc opened his mouth and quickly closed it a few times, expecting a comment to looking like a useless fish that never came. He had to fight against the near automatic response of actually saying where he came from, which involved far too much explanation and socialization to a receptionist. It then dawned on him it had been at least a good seven seconds before he answered, and maybe just any answer would be good. "I uh...came from the tealblood's hive outside of this city," he said.

"The clinic?" the blueblood asked suspiciously. "You seem a little too clean cut to come from there."

"Cl...clean cut?"

"Well yeah," he said nonchalantly as he started to fill out some paperwork, "plenty of unsavories come outta there. Girl in there's weird, too. Don't trust her myself."

"Well I can assure you I am not an 'unsavory'. I just woke up there after a bit of a fall," Dontoc said.

"Ah! That's how. She probably thoughtcha were a dead body. She takes them in, ya know. Who knows what she does with 'em. Some talk about how she uses them for occult magicks or something. Did you know that's a common thing here? Fuckin' kooks." He flipped the paper over and pointed at the line at the bottom. Dontoc could only shift around slightly, thinking about the unusual book he found. "But you're alive and she don't want that so she letcha go. I'm sure. Anywho, here. Just sign at the bottom. Considering everything, I'll just give ya the room. Just make sure to tell your seadwellin' friends, alright? You're on the first floor, third door on the right. Room 133."

Dontoc nodded. Well now I have to talk to her, he thought as he signed the line. He didn't bother telling the receptionist he didn't really have any friends, let alone seadweller ones. He quietly muttered a small "thank you" as the receptionist handed him the keycard and pointed him in the right direction, and Dontoc found the room with little effort.

It was a standard room, as far as hotels go. The most impressive thing was a small bookshelf with a couple nonfiction books inside, and a laptop resting on the desk. He sat down at the desk, pulled out the slip of paper in his pocket and took another drink of water. Hopefully she was still awake, or else he might end up with another sleepless night.

He made a Trollian account back when he was still a kid in the vain hope that one of the other kids being schoolfed would at least talk to him outside of their classes. It never happened. Since then it had largely sat there, unused. Even though getting back on the website was like picking up a book even after not having read in sweeps, it still felt foreign to get on and see the red chatbox. With a quick search for "calculatingAlchemist", he managed to find her account and cautiously typed out "Hello?"

He'd never had a response so fast. Oh no, does this mean she was waiting for a response this whole time? And here I was not planning on messaging her until I needed some rather probing questions answered. Oh dear. His mouse hovered over the abscond button and he suddenly felt far too warm for the room.

No. You can do this. Deep breaths. You have already talked to her once. Perhaps too harshly, but you did. And you were hardly in a right state of mind either, but how much harder could online be? In fact, it should be easier.

algorithmicCollegiate [AC] began trolling calculatingAlchemist [CA]

AC: Hello?

CA: hey! CA: you've got to be the violetblood from earlier! CA: iss everything 0K?

Zero K? Wait no, "okay". It must be a quirk. Alongside the s. She did have a slight hiss accent, did she not?

AC: Yes, Σvery+hing Is "0K" AC: I Mαde It +o +he Ho+el Sαfely AC: Or +emporαry Hives+em As You Cαlled I+

CA: oh, awessome! :)~ CA: i antissipated a problem when i ssaw a messssage.

AC: No, No Problems +o βe Found AC: I Do Hαve Some Inquiries, However AC: +he Recep+ionis+ Seemed +o βelieve You Abuc+ed Me?

CA: he did? :o CA: wait no i think i know why. CA: what elsse did he ssay?

AC: You Were A Performer Of Mαgic, And I +ook +he Assump+ion I+ Wαs No+ Of +he Subjuggαlα+ion Vαrie+y AC: And You S+ole Deαd βodies AC: +hus Why He +hough+ I Wαs Abduc+ed

CA: yeah the lasst one'ss true CA: except for you being at my clinic becausse i thought you were dead, ssince ass I ssaid, another troll brought you in. CA: or maybe i didn't? CA: either way, i didn't drag you in becausse i thought you were dead CA: i couldn't even bring you into the proper room becausse i thought you were too tall for me to carry!

AC: Σxcuse Me?

CA: i have a valid reasson! CA: how long will you be in the area?

Dontoc stared at his screen blankly. He didn't know the answer to that question. The only reason he even left the comfortable island at all is that he realized he couldn't isolate himself forever, and from all his reading at home, Sandyhorn seemed a good place to start. So he responded the best way any absolutely confounded troll would.

AC: Whα+?

CA: i sswear i'll explain everything but i don't want to on the internet, even if trollian'ss ssuppossed to be pretty ssafe. CA: i know sseveral plassess where we can get ssomething to eat and you can meet me there or at my hive

AC: βut I Do No+ Σven Know Your Name

CA: you don't? CA: oopss! ^.^; CA: though to be fair i didn't actually antissipate talking to you again. CA: it'ss pallia. CA: sso lunch?

He hesitated. On one hand, he was genuinely curious what could possibly be going on, and he wasn't going to ever get over his anxiety unless he started socializing. But at the same time it was socializing, and in a public place no less. His curiosity won out.

AC: You Promise +o +ell Me Whα+ Is Going On?

CA: sswear on my life and my lussuss'ss life!

AC: +hen Yes, Pαlliα, I Shαll Mee+ You For Lunch +omorrow. AC: As I Am Afrαid My In+eres+s Were Piqued More +hαn I Σxpec+ed Upon A Forced Conversα+ion At A Ho+el.

CA: :D no issssues with that! CA: you know what? CA: that hivesstem you're at hass a resstaurant attached, we can jusst go there. CA: there sshould be sseating in the back and everyone'll be hungover from today sso we don't have to worry about any russh CA: ssound good?

AC: I Do Not See Why I+ Would No+

CA: fantasstic! :)~ CA: see you around twelve then violetblood!

AC: Erm, Actuαlly… AC: My Nαme Is Don+oc AC: +hough If You Wish +o Cαll Me "Viole+blood" I Will Not S+op You

CA: no no, dontoc'ss your name CA: calling you jusst violetblood would be rude CA: anyway, ssee you around twelve then, dontoc! :)~ CA: i'll be dressssed a little more fanssy than ussual out of sspite CA: may ass well pretend to be the creepy witch

calculatingAlchemist [CA] has ceased trolling algorithmicCollegiate [AC]

calculatingAlchemist [CA] would like to add you as a chump. Accept?

He clicked yes. Maybe out of hope, maybe out of desperation, or perhaps still out of the sheer wonder of who he managed to meet purely by accident. At least this would all be cleared up by tomorrow, and he could continue learning about land life.

He would just have to mentally prep for a possibly very long lunch.

***

Pallia arrived at the hotel five minutes early, wearing a black dress that touched the ground with a candy red cape, pointy hat snuggly in between her tall horns and a pair of shoes with just enough point to give the satisfied click on the tile floor.

"This is a place for honest folks," the receptionist, the usual cobaltblood she'd seen in here a few times, sneered. "And also, generally, trolls sitting higher than teal." She couldn't help but wonder if he ever actually slept or if he lived off of coffee.

"I am honest," Pallia said. "What, is this not honest to how trolls see me?"

"You know what I mean, tealblood."

"Not really. You said it was for honest folks. I don't think I've outright lied." She frowned. "Least as far as I can remember." Sure, leading other trolls on that she was a witch wasn't exactly honest and she could admit to that, but keeping the image up kept them from asking questions, especially when the image itself came out of a combination of calling what she did "alchemy" and her calling any medication she made for trolls "potions"....among other reasons. Only seemed fair she'd take the matter into her own hands and have control over it.

"You keep bringin' in all those pirates," he said. "I know you're working for them."

She rolled her eyes. "They were here before."

He muttered something - Pallia watched his mouth move - but she couldn't quite make out exactly what. All she could make out was something involving "keeping quiet".

There was a loud cough and she whipped her head over to the source, seeing the violetblood, Dontoc, from yesterday, walking up to her.

"Erm...hello," he said nervously. "I was afraid you would not completely remember."

"Nope!" She grinned, hoping it would calm him down somewhat. "And sorry about not seeing you there. I didn't hear you."

"You knew I was trying to call your name out?"

"I took a guess," she admitted with a shrug. "So shall we be off?"

He nodded. "That does sound like a good idea, yes. May I ask what you two were arguing about?"

"I'll explain when we sit down," she said as she started to walk towards the restaurant.

"Does it have to do with the outfit?"

"A little. Like it?" His mouth opened, but no sound came out. "You can be honest. No need to sugarcoat."

He did a once over of her, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "It is ridiculous."

She beamed at him. "Perfect."

They got seated almost immediately, all the way in the back corner as requested. And just as expected, they were the only customers present. Perfect. She just had to make sure the wait staff were tipped well and anything said here should stay here. That is, if it even got that far.

Dontoc looked relieved too. He sat down in the spot actually nestled in the corner. "Thank you for being willing to meet with me tonight," he said.

"Don't worry about it! You have questions, and depending on what they are, I'll have answers. Go ahead and ask whatever you need to," she said. With a smile, she added, "You look better, by the way. Your fins aren't curled in anymore. Still a little droopy, but they'll perk up. Try applying some water directly to them and your gills. I've heard that helps."

"You know a lot about seadwellers," Dontoc commented. "At least, for being unaware of the fin sensitivity."

Pallia laughed. "Comes with the job. That also wasn't a question."

He shifted in his seat. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not. I'm just trying to be funny and not quite succeeding." Her eyes darted away from him as she did a quick scan for any server, but found none. "Though note, I'm not going to answer anything when the server's nearby."

He looked at her, puzzled for a second, then nodded. "Okay. Yes, that...that makes sense."

"Just to get that cleared up. So, what's your first question? I'm not counting your earlier one as part of this whole thing."

Dontoc cleared his throat. "Well I guess to start, ah, what exactly do you do? To know enough about seadwellers - which, ah, apologies for perhaps sounding harsh the night prior about everything, as you were correct, it seems - and yet only know a pair of them. It, well, does not quite add up is all I am saying."

Well, that was fast. Certainly, Pallia anticipated having to explain to him what she did eventually, but she wasn't ready for it to be the first question. He seemed trustworthy, at least. He had some of those standard seadweller catches: the proper speaking style, the formal state of attire for casual daywear and assumption a landdweller wouldn't know the basics of seadweller function, but he didn't sound pompous and arrogant about it like Careen, more doubtful, much like she'd anticipate from someone spending their whole life underwater and told one thing their whole lives. And now, he didn't sound doubtful of her, but rather of himself. Plus, she trusted Glacin, a purpleblood - self-admitted former subjuggalator by force, no less - obscuring his face (to everyone except her and his matesprit) actively using chucklevoodoos just to communicate. One curious seadweller with obvious socialization issues (even to her) looked far more trustworthy than him.

Hopefully she wouldn't regret this.

Pallia whipped her head around the room again to make sure everything was clear. "What did they schoolfeed you about science?" she finally asked.

Dontoc raised an eyebrow. "Science? You mean the technology and military advancement done directly under the Empress or...?" His voice trailed of, uncertain. "Well, we did talk briefly about the various mass murders of--"

"Yeah. Those." She shuddered. "I'd rather not think about that," she said flatly. With a brief shaking of her head, she added, "But did they tell you what it is exactly?"

"Erm...no. Well, yes, they did, but it did not sound correct. Were they supposed to?"

"I don't know. Lusus didn't want me to get schoolfed so I self taught myself most everything. Poor Monty would block the door just so I wouldn't go! And he might've eaten a truancy drone. Do those exist?" She shrugged. "Besides, I had enough stuff I found around my hive I managed to teach myself a lot, or had a couple others come in and help me. One of the pirates taught me a ton about plants that I didn't know, and I found out way more about computers when Aisral taught me and -- I'm getting on a tangent. Anyway, it is-"

"Hello there dears, can I get you two some drinks?" a new voice asked. Pallia jumped at the noise and turned towards the source. Hopefully she hadn't heard too much, she thought.

"Just water for me and…" she turned to Dontoc, who was currently hiding behind the menu, "him too."

The server nodded and walked off. Dontoc muttered something too quietly for Pallia to hear and she cocked her head.

"You're gonna have to speak louder. Your voice gets really quiet," she said.

"You did not have to do that. Um...thank you," he said. Pallia still had to struggle to make out the words, but thankfully it was at least quiet enough everywhere else she could do that much. Dontoc swallowed thickly and gave her a sheepish smile from overtop the menu. "So, what is it then?"

Pallia nodded. "It's studying the natural world - or unnatural world - and figuring out why stuff is the way it is, and how we can make use of that, through rigorous research, questioning and testing. And that's what I do. Several others that work with me too, but I'm really the only one who kind of works with the public. Well, me and Aisral but no one's going to try and slaughter her for "breaking the miracles" or whatever." She grimaced. "The only trolls who call us scienstiffs are those subjuggalators and anyone under them."

"So you being a witch then…?"

"I practice chemistry and biology and apply it to a lot of medical work. Two of the big three practices that is extremely regulated by the Empress. So I call what I do 'alchemy' which isn't that far off anyway, use the right jargon and suddenly word starts going around that I'm a witch. The body snatching thing probably didn't help with that," Pallia said with a shrug. "But that didn't scare you off."

Dontoc ran a hand through hair that looked like he had done that a thousand times already tonight. Maybe he had. "I have had my fair share of presumptuous judgements that I at least wanted to hear your side first. You seemed nice enough at least," he said. "Oh, and here come our drinks."

The server handed them their drinks and asked what they wanted for food. Pallia rattled off her regular - grubshrimp overtop rice in a spicy sauce with all the fixings - and Dontoc just ordered a piece of fish and a couple sides.

"They really are taking their time." Dontoc asked.

"Well, yeah. Normally with me they're longer because they normally serve cobalts and indigos coming to and fro. They're probably playing nice because you're a seadweller, while moving slow enough to try and...I dunno, either deter me from returning or deter us from eating together," she said. She scrunched her face in thought. "Maybe both?"

"Oh. Lovely," he muttered dryly, just loud enough for her to hear again. "I was hoping to escape all of that."

Pallia giggled. "You haven't been on land for very long, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"If you thought being on land would make people care less about blood caste? Yeah, kind of. You'll see it for as long as you're on land, which I guess won't be long."

"Mm. Perhaps." He shifted in his seat again, moving so he was leaning forward on the table. "I have found seadwelling life may not be for myself and am, as such, attempting life on land. Mainland."

"Oh cool!" She beamed at him. "But that's off topic. I bet you wanna know about the uh...the body thing."

His fins fluttered lightly (leaving Pallia to make a mental note that they seemed to respond to different vocal stimuli than Mayola's or Careen's) as he answered, "Yes, if you could."

"Well, unlike some others in a similar line of work to myself, I like to hold myself to an ethical standard. So I don't practice anything on unwilling live participants. Thanks to a couple rumors I'm sure were started by subjuggalators after the last massacre, there's a fun idea out there that all doctors are amoral, torturing monsters," she said bitterly. "And lowbloods - well all trolls really, I shouldn't single one set out - just leave their dead there. Which is unsanitary. So I take the bodies and either use them for science or bury them. Sometimes they get fed to Monty. Keeps them off of the streets, at least."

"For science."

"Yeah. Normally for examining anatomy, but also for seeing what they died from. I'm trying to keep a record. It's especially good for seeing which diseases are more commonly culling and what should have vaccines made of them. Vaccines which are basically things you inject to let your immune system learn how to fight off diseases, either by giving you a muted form or -- oh look at me, I'm rambling. I should move on or we'll be here all night," she said.

Dontoc shook his head emphatically. His fins looked perkier than they were even a few minutes ago. Interest? That's all she could fathom. "No, no. I actually am quite interested. I feel like I have learned more these past few days than the whole time being schoolfed." His fins shuddered as his eyes widened. "Oh my, that came across not quite as intended."

"Well, it's not like I learned all of this myself. There's a lot of old books and diagrams back at my hive. I think they're from whoever was there beforehand."

If Dontoc wasn't sitting on the edge of his chair earlier, he was now, back straight and eyes focused wholly on her. "There are? Um, I mean, interesting. I could ah, keep them safe you know. Not like take them or anything! But transcribe them and keep transcribed copies at my hive. The old mansion is already a somewhat illegal library to begin with. Extra books are not going to hurt it in the slightest."

Pallia grinned. "I think I like the sound of that," she said. "Do you live close by?"

He slumped back down in his chair. "Not exactly," he admitted. "It would be quite the trip to come here daily."

Silence. Pallia knew what she wanted to do immediately, but she had to stop and think. Make sure this wasn't the worst idea she was about to proclaim. He already knew where she lived, so if he was some sort of inquisition, it was too late already. Aisral lived with her, and connections to everyone except Glacin and Sekier were easy enough to make, fuchsia protection from Mayola be damned. And if he wanted to transcribe her notes, that was always good. Even if he took them and ran off, so long as she snatched the originals and hid them back in the secret tunnel, they'd remain safe enough. Not like she had to tell him about that part of the hive.

With her mind made up, it was her turn now to sit on the edge of her seat, leaning forward with shining eyes and steepled fingers. "You don't have to if you don't want to, you know."

"But I want to!" Dontoc exclaimed. "What you are doing sounds fascinating and --"

"No not that! Goodness no! I have two whole floors of nearly empty rooms in my hive and already one other troll living with me. So long as your lusus can survive on their own I see no reason why I can't set up a room for you," Pallia said. "And if you want, we can get you a lab too. Plenty of those as well. You'll just have to meet all the others. Aisral does textile engineering. She lives in my hive on the fourth floor. There's a seadweller who's constantly commissioning pieces from her. Zanchi studies genetics and evolution. Volcor studies mechanical engineering. Those two live nearby and stop in periodically. And Glacin normally just throws himself up on videochat with his matesprit. He studies pathology and epidemiology and his matesprit studies…" Pallia paused for a while and tapped her chin a few times in thought, "necrobiology. Or something like that. It's unique. And like I said, I study biochemistry. I can show you what I'm working on when we get there. So how's that sound?"

The other troll was silent, but his fins were fluttering heavily. Happiness? Wait no, flustered, Pallia thought. It was all she could guess.

Dontoc then nodded. "You want...you want me to live with you?" he asked doubtfully.

She deflated slightly in her chair. "If that's okay with you, of course. If it's not--"

"No no. I ah...you caught me off guard." He let out his own laugh, though it sounded bittersweet to her ears. "Let us just say I am unused to such kindness and leave it at that."

"Then it's settled," Pallia said. "It'll be nice having someone else in there, even if it's just a warm body. Aisral doesn't count."

He grinned. It lit up his whole face, perking his fins further and lighting his eyes, and Pallia quietly hoped it could stay that way. "Your behavior is somewhat infectious, just so you know. Even if you are a tad strange."

"Is that a problem?"

He hummed. "I do not think so," he said. "Oh, and one last question. To ease my own anxieties."

"Hm?"

"He mentioned unsavory trolls coming to your hive for care. Is that true?"

She nodded. "There's a big pirate place pretty close and they know everything I do is safe and effective. But don't worry, they don't touch anything in that hive. One of them did and ended up getting eaten by a giant snake. He didn't initially, but giant snake is so much easier to explain than horrible acid burns....then giant snake. Word spreads fast."

"That is why you said if I had any problems with an attempted assault to let the troll know who sent me, is it not?"

"Exactly!" She saw him flinch at the sudden shrillness in her tone and added, quieter, "That doesn't change your opinion does it?"

"Pallia, I am afraid you got me far too interested in what I do not know and wish to know unless you said it was to end in my culling I do not think I could turn back. One one hand, they do tell us curiosity is what killed the meowbeast but…"

"But satisfaction is what brought it back," Pallia finished. She leaned back in her chair right as the server came over to give them their food. "And somehow I think living here will satisfy most of your curiosity for whatever you were looking for."

"Perhaps," Dontoc said. "It will if nothing else, be an interesting ride."

[darkjanet2]

Drusilla’s Soul Ch. 17 Part 1.

Los Angeles, Ca 7:15 PM, Wolfram & Hart

A brown-haired man was typing on a computer as he was doing his research. His name was Lindsey McDonald and he was a lawyer of Wolfram & Hart.

He heard a phone beep.

“Mr. McDonald, we have your visitor here. He wanted to speak with you”, said the lady on the intercom phone.

“Send him in,'' he said.

A platinum blonde man walked into his office, he wore a black leather duster, black shirt and pants, and black combat boots. He was in punk style.

“Ah, Spike. It’s great to see you”, said Lindsey.

“ How do I go about hiring you blokes? I’ve got a job that’s right up your street”, said Spike.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“I want to find Drusilla’s whereabouts, she still has a soul and I can use that to my advantage", Spike said.

"Over at Wolfram & Hart anything is possible, but only if you can pay our fee it's a business, not a charity", said Lindsey.

"You get the money, but you get half up front only the rest when the bloody job is done", Spike said.

The brunette man looked at Spike and grinned.

"Sounds like we have a deal then, Mr. Spike," The man said.

"It is a deal as long as we have it clear that you get paid the rest of your money when you finish the job," Spike said.

Spike turned to walk out around the office.

"The money, Spike? Do you believe that Drusilla is a hero?" asked Lindsey, mockingly.

Spike slammed his fist on Lindsey’s desk and yelled, “SHE IS NOT A HERO!!” with his angry vampiric face.

Lindsey calmly smirked, “Alright, calm down.”

Spike calmed down and reverted his human face.

“Now you want to know where Drusilla is, I heard she’s on a mission trip to Japan. But she won’t return and it has been 2 weeks for her mission,” said Lindsey.

“Then I knew she still had a damn soul and always helped people. I want to call up Deacon Frost to remove the soul. I’ll have my minions arrange the ship and I will also contact Angelus.” said Spike.

“Well, perhaps I can call Angelus to invade Japan, and I bet he will terrorize this country,” Lindsey smirked, evilly, and began to call Angelus.

Angelus at The Standard, Downtown LA

Angelus was on the phone and he was told to be prepared to take a trip to Japan, and he knew Drusilla’s whereabouts.

“Alright, I’ll be there.” Angelus hung up his iPhone 11 as naked Darla wrapped around his bare torso, resting her chin on his strong shoulder, caressing his strong arms, kissed his cheek.

“He found Drusilla. She’s at Odaiba,” said Angelus.

“Do they find out?” asked Darla.

“He said that Drusilla was on a mission trip, now we can hunt her down. Deacon will be able to extract her soul and she will work with us together again,” said Angelus.

“What are you planning to do, Angelus?” asked Darla.

“I can make her insane once more. Get dressed, we’ll get a ship.” said Angelus.

The Next Morning Odaiba, Japan 5:34 AM

Drusilla was released from the hospital and got her prescriptions of Zoloft and Opana from the pharmacy. She was at the Dai-Ichi Hotel Tokyo Seafort for a room to stay. She was FaceTiming her friends staying at her house to see how they were doing. Drusilla told them about the situation where evil Digimon attacked the city and she had a battle with LadyDevimon when she tried to kill her, then a beautiful angel arrived in the nick of time and pulverized the demon. The two kids came to rescue her before she blacked out.

“You were in the hospital?! Are you okay?!” shocked Britney.

“I’m fine, my body feels a little sore, but I’m fine. So how are you doing? Did you treat Jade well?” asked Drusilla.

“Yeah, we fed her, groomed her, and played with her. Jade was doing very well,” said Britney.

“That’s great. Where’s David?” she asked.

“Oh, he went to the pet store to buy more cat food,” Britney explained. “So anyway, how long have you been in a coma?”

“About two weeks and I haven’t returned until next month. When I entered the concert, the creatures were called Digimon. Those kids were talking about rampaging the city. The military tried to shoot them down, but they did not affect them. And Matt has a partner named Gabumon, then he took out the strange device and flashed light onto Gabumon, transformed into a metallic wolf!” exclaimed Drusilla.

“No way!” exclaimed Britney.

“Yes, way. Besides, Matt guided me to the safe place to take me to the parking garage. He told me to stay here, but I denied it because I want to help people even if he thought I was a human.” said Drusilla.

“Did you reveal the truth you’re a vampire?” asked Britney.

“No, I don’t want him to know my secret. But he was surprised that I had superhuman strength and I’d had to deal with this LadyDevimon chick,” said Drusilla.

“And did you go vamp?” asked Britney, incredulously.

“Yes, while he was away, two of us started to fight. Fast forward, LadyDevimon was about to finish me off, and it hit something behind her, a beautiful angel appeared in the parking garage and annihilated her. I thought it was crazy, but she saved my life.” said Drusilla.

“I knew this was your guardian angel,” said Britney.

“I know, but I didn’t pray. I think this angel is a Digimon?” asked Drusilla.

“I doubt it,” Britney said. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I thought Japan was pretty cool, but that was crazy that Digimon attacked the city,” said Britney.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, they are rebuilding them right now.” said Drusilla.

“Well, alright. Rest up, Dru. Hope you come back safely.” said Britney, smiled.

“I will. Bye, Britney.” Drusilla hung up her phone, laying down on the bed, and groaned in exhaustion.

“Goddamn, that was the hell of a week! I can’t believe I redeemed myself for starting a battle with LadyDevimon.” Drusilla sighed, sat up from the bed, and walked to the table where the bag of prescriptions lay.

She opened the bag and picked out two vials: Zoloft and Opana. The pharmacist told her to take one pill of Zoloft in the morning and take one pill of Opana in the afternoon. She took out the paper and read it. She followed the instructions and read about the warning and side effects.

Drusilla opened the vial of Zoloft and took one of these pills, it was a blue pill of 50 milligrams in her hand and put it into her mouth, and swallowed it. Then she downed it with Sprite, that pill she swallowed that went through her esophagus.

Suddenly her body and mind felt relaxed, less anxious, less irritable. Zoloft might decrease fear, anxiety, unwanted thoughts, and the number of panic attacks. She had never felt this before, her mind went clear. She could let go of her painful past that Angelus murdered her family, and knowing that Angelus was already dead.

After that, she took a second vial of Opana to treat her severe pain after surgery. She swallowed it and then she downed a Sprite through her esophagus. Now her body felt more relaxed, her pains were reduced. She felt a little wobble, so she went straight to bed and began to sleep to rest up to her body.

In the Digital World

It was cold and snowy out there, even the aurora borealis appeared to be a beautiful color of blue, green, and violet. There was a beautiful ice castle with a castle-like structure of blocks of ice up the mountain. The groups just walked up to the mountain, finding it beautiful, with the green grass on the ground that also had beautiful flowers sticking out. And that's despite having some snowy spots as well. All while in the snowy mountains of the Digital World, which had them wondering how the grass and the flowers were able to grow here. But they didn't dig for answers since it could've been their magic for all they care.

“Where are we?” asked TK.

“I don't know, but this place looks magical, it's so beautiful and romantic, isn't that right, Ken?” asked Yolei, coyly.

“Uh..yeah, sure,” said Ken, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“I wonder what this place is?” said Kari.

“It's an ice castle where the wise Digimon reside,” said Cody.

“How did you know that, Cody?” asked TK.

“Well, there's a board with a description,” said Cody.

“What? Is it some kind of tourist spot?” asked Davis.

“C'mon guys, let's get in standing here won't get us anywhere,” said TK.

They walked up to the mountain and went inside the beautiful ice castle just like a crystal, which had all its doors and walls made of mirrors.

“Whoa... Seeing up close this place is amazing,” said Yolei.

“Yeah, but why does it look so empty and strangely quiet..?” asked Kari.

“Let’s see what the brochure says, it said today is the day of the ice festival so Digimon around here is busy preparing for the palace,” said Ken, holding his chin in deep thought.

“Aah...I see... No wonder why it's so quiet here, but wait a minute, where did you read that?” asked Davis.

“Here, it's on the brochure,” Ken took a brochure out of his pocket.

“What?! A brochure? In a place like this? Is it a tourist spot?” surprised Davis, widened his eyes.

“Yes, is it,” suddenly a voice caught their attention, it was a blue ogre Digimon with unkempt white long hair, pointed ears adored by earrings, a single horn on its head, and an icicle jutting from each of its shoulders. It's known for having its mouth open nearly all the time with an exaggerated lower jaw similar to Violator and has fang-like tusks on its upper jaw like a traditional Oni.

It wore a black loincloth with a belt, black belts on its right arm, nothing on its left arm, blue bandages on its right leg, and black belts on its left leg. It carried an icicle as a weapon. It had a

skull and crossbones on its left arm below its shoulder icicle, metal studs on the knuckles of its left hand, and a scar on the back of its right hand.

“Who are you?” demanded Davis.

“I’m Hyogamon, the guardian here,” said Hyogamon.

“ICE PUNCH!” He attacked them with his powerful fist emitting the icicle coming right at them.

“Look out!!” Davis cried as he and the group dodged his attack, the icicle shards embedded in the glass walls.

“Davis, time to Digivolve!” said Veemon.

Davis nodded and he began to activate the device.

“DIGIARMOR, ENERGIZE!” Davis yelled out.

“VEEMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO…”

The flame engulfed Veemon, imagining Agumon, Greymon, MetalGreymon, and WarGreymon. Veemon grew taller, covered with armor flame-like design, the blade protruding out of his mask, claws, and feet.

“FLAMEDRAMON! THE FIRE OF COURAGE!”

Now the four of them yelled out, “DIGIARMOR, ENERGIZE!”

“PATAMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO… PEGASUSMON! THE SOARING OF HOPE!

“GATOMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO… NEFERTIMON! THE ANGEL OF LIGHT!”

“HAWKMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO… HALSEMON! THE WING OF LOVE!”

“ARMADILLOMON, ARMOR DIGIVOLVE TO… DIGMON! THE STEEL OF KNOWLEDGE!”

“WORMON, DIGIVOLVE TO… STINGMON!”

“FIRE ROCKET!” He shot fireballs from his fist at Hyogamon with a critical hit, suddenly there were more Digimon who appeared in the castle, an ovoid mirror Digimon was dressed in green robes and hat, and it was wielding a fan. And there were other Hyogamon that appeared in the battle.

“Looks like we’re outnumbered,” said Ken.

“What should we do?” asked TK.

"We should regroup and come up with a plan," said Ken.

“No way!” Davis said as the others looked at him. “We can do this!”

"If they're gaining forces, we must divide their power by separating them from one another." Ken said.

“Ken is right, we have to gain an advantage somehow." said TK.

“I have an idea, what are the digimon ranks? From there we can solidify a plan to separate them." said Kari.

“Good plan.” said TK.

“Enough talk. Let’s see if we can take you on. SNOW PUNCH!” Hyogamon shot a snowball from his fist as Flamedramon threw a fire which caused the snowball to melt.

“ROSETTA STONE!” Nerfetimon flashed a pink light from her back and shot a stone at Mirrormon which the mirror caused to crack.

“SHOOTING STARS!” Pegasusmon fired the stars at the army of Hyogamon and Mirrormon.

“MIRROR’S REVENGE!” It reflected Pegasusmon’s attack, the shooting stars traveled back towards Pegasusmon.

" W-what?!" Pegasusmon said in shock

The shooting stars sliced Pegasusmon as he yelled and fell backward onto the ground. He lied on the ground, with eyes shut, looking hurt.

“Pegasusmon!” TK cried as he ran towards his partner.

“Be careful! They can reflect your attacks!” warned Ken.

“How do we beat them? They’re so many of them!” cried Yolei.

Davis had a bright idea, “Let’s fuse them together so we can beat them.”

The group agreed, their partners de-digivolving and re-digivolving and fusing together to evolve them into another Digimon.

“XV-MON! STINGMON! DNA DIGIVOLVE TO… PAILDRAMON”

“AQUIALMON! GATOMON! DNA DIGIVOLVE TO… SILPHYMON!”

“ANKYLOMON! ANGEMON! DNA DIGIVOVLE TO… SHAKKOUMON!”

“Charge!” Hyogamon shouted to his comrades to charge at them and be prepared to attack.

“DESPERADO BLASTER!” Paildramon fired his machine guns at the army of Hyogamon and Mirrormon.

“STATIC FORCE!” Silphymon fired a static orb and blasted at them.

“KACHINA BOMBS!” Shakkoumon fired clay disks from its waist and all the army was pulverized.

Now the battle was cleared, they ran the path through the corridor, all the Digimon were locked up in a dungeon.

“Hey, travelers! Help us!” cried Penguinmon.

“What happened?” asked Cody.

“We lived in peace in this castle, we were attacked by Hyogomon and Mirromon and taken to the dungeon. And AncientWisemon has taken over the castle,” said Pengimon.

[lissahawthorne]

shifting sights

Who: Clarissa Hawthorne

When: mid 2007 - mid 2008, ft. mentions of 2005

Where: nowhere specific / an eye doctor’s office

What: The starts of Clarissa’s journey with her sight loss and how she shifted her sights from archery to occupational therapy because of it.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1855

Notes: This is part 1 of 3. Part 2. Part 3.

Clarissa had always been good about protecting her eyes and keeping them healthy. As an archer, her eyes were just as important as her arms, if not more so. There were ways to continue to compete if one lost their arms. There were far less when it came to losing eyesight. Hard to hit a target you can’t see and all that. She did her best not to strain her eyes, made sure to not play video games for too long, and always took constant breaks. Didn’t binge watch shows or spend too long in front of a screen of any kind. She took every precaution she could with her eyes, just as she did the rest of her body.

Losing her eyesight came out of nowhere.

She’d noticed the changes as early as fifteen. It wasn’t anything drastic, at first. A little blurry, a little painful if she did too much, but nothing entirely out of the ordinary. Her family did have a history of eye problems as it were. It felt natural, in a couple of ways. But that didn’t mean it was something to take lightly. So, she’d told her parents and they got her in with an eye doctor. Nothing seemed wrong and she got her first pair of glasses/contacts then.

Over the next year and a half, however, her prescription changed multiple times. Each change was more drastic and confusing than the last. To the point that tests had to be run, because a seemingly healthy teenager shouldn’t be losing their eyesight as fast as Clarissa was. Even if she used her eyes significantly more than most likely did. She took care of her eyes, what was happening definitely wasn’t damage she was doing herself.

It was terrifying, knowing her eyes were getting worse by the moment, and in no real discernible pattern. Her non-dominant eye was definitely receiving the brunt of the loss, which didn’t really make sense. If it was something caused by eyestrain, which was often what left her in pain, it should have been her dominant eye going first. There was no obvious reason why what was happening to her was happening and it even seemed to baffle the doctors she’d seen. Which, admittedly, did nothing to assuage the fears and anxiety that Clarissa had over the entire ordeal.

For Clarissa, her eyesight was everything. She was a world champion in archery. She’d competed at the Junior Olympics and won gold several times over the years. She was slated to compete for Italy in the 2008 Olympic games in Beijing. Archery was her entire life. The idea that she might have to give that up was devastating. Especially because she didn’t entirely know what else she might want to do with her life. Archery had been the goal, had been the dream. Continue competing, maybe go to college. Losing her sight wasn’t in the books.

In mid-2007, after months and months of testing between trips back and forth to Italy and applying to a couple colleges, both in the states and abroad, Clarissa got an answer. It wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for, and certainly wasn’t one she wanted to hear, but it was the answer she’d honestly expected to receive. At least sort of.

“We don’t know why, but you are losing your sight at an accelerated rate. The loss is a steady rate in both eyes but uneven between them. You’re definitely losing more sight in your right eye than in your left, likely because it started deteriorating first. We’ll do more testing to confirm that for sure and to see what else we can find out.” While his words were gentle, it didn’t stop the weight of them from hitting Clarissa like a truck.

“I’m going blind?” As much as she’d known that was exactly what was happening, as it didn’t take a genius to know that, her voice still shook as she asked. It felt like her entire world was crashing down around her and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

“I’m afraid so.” He was trying to be as gentle as he could, that much was obvious, but it didn’t particularly help. There was no amount of gentleness that could detract from the utter sense of loss Clarissa was experiencing.

“And you don’t know why? Is there not some sort of disease or something that explains this?” People didn’t just lose their sight, not at her age. Not without a reason. How did they not know?

“All the testing we’ve done thus far has come up inconclusive. We’ll keep testing, but… As of now, we lack an explanation.” The doctor gave a small smile. “We’ll do what we can to help you figure this out.”

“What about archery? How much longer am I going to be able to see? Can I still compete?” She could feel her breathing catch in her chest. The threat of tears, of a breakdown creeping in the longer she sat there, fiddling with her own fingers.

“Your eyes should hold out for a number of years and you may not even lose your sight entirely. It’s hard to tell, especially without knowing what exactly is causing it. You’ll need stronger prescriptions, but ultimately, will still be able to compete, for now.”

For now.

It should have been an upside. It wasn’t.

She’d ask dozens of more questions before leaving the office that day. Clarissa wanted to know everything she could about what was going on. She wanted to know if there were any ways to counteract what was happening, or at least ways to try and keep the pace from speeding up. The doctor didn’t necessarily have any of the answers, but it was agreed that they’d figure it out as best they could. She was scheduled for numerous tests and while she left the office with her head held high, it was more for show than anything.

She got home that evening and cried. She cried until her eyes gave up. Until everything was blurry no matter what she did, until they ached and stung. Then she cried some more. There had been no amount of preparation she could have done to prevent the way the news affected her. Not really. It was one thing to suspect something but something entirely different to actually have it be confirmed.

The news had broken her heart. There was no denying it, she’d have to give up archery. Maybe not right away, she could still compete in at least one Olympic games, but after that, after all the years of work she’d put into it, archery wouldn’t be her end all. Even if she didn’t go completely blind, there wasn’t much hope that her eyes would just suddenly stop deteriorating. At some point, even with the aid of glasses or contacts, her vision would be too poor to compete. That was something she knew for sure, even if the doctor had tried his best to convince her that wasn’t the case.

Her career as an archer wasn’t something sustainable, her eyes were going to make sure of that. She’d have to come up with something else.

The first step was deciding what she wanted to do about her diagnosis. She decided not to reveal her sight loss. She saw no point in making it known that she was going blind. People lost their sight all the time and without answers it would just make it more difficult. Besides, it wasn’t like it would hinder anything, not yet. Her contact prescription got stronger and her eyes tired out faster, but life was still relatively the same. No sense alarming anyone else to the changes that would come in time.

From there, she looked into careers and the ways to get there. While she’d already sent off a number of applications for colleges, she hadn’t actually specified a major, figuring she’d dabble a bit in everything to find something she wanted to do. That view changed when she realized that college was more about setting up for the rest of her life than just something to pass the time between competitions. She had to decide going in, no matter which college she decided to attend.

So, she started researching. Deciding what she wanted to do with her life. Where it was she wanted to go and how she wanted to get there. As much as she enjoyed languages and the learning of them, they weren’t really a practical route to take. There was too much reading and writing involved in anything related to languages and the careers that one could obtain through them. She knew a lot about working out, the human body, sports. So, she decided to look into things that related to that knowledge in some way. See if what she’d learned as an archer could get her anywhere in life.

Her final college application was for the University of Pittsburgh, looking to declare a major in Rehab Science. She wanted to help people, wanted to be able to make a difference in the world. Her knowledge of the human body and how it worked would be useful with that. From there, she decided on becoming an occupational therapist, as it seemed like the best way to do so. Not only because it would allow her to help others, but she’d learn how to help herself in the process. Pittsburgh had one of the best rehab science programs available, with the ability to go directly into a doctor of Occupational Therapy degree upon graduation. It made the most sense for her to go there, but she explored other options to achieve the same elsewhere, in case she didn’t get accepted.

When her acceptance letter came in the mail, Clarissa couldn’t have been happier. As much as archery meant to her and as much as it had shaped her entire life, much as growing up across seven countries had, it was exciting, in it’s own way, to be changing direction. Shifting her sights to something that was, admittedly, far more reasonable a future than relying solely on archery to get her through life. It was terrifying too. The idea that everything she knew was changing, and not necessarily for the better. There was no telling what might happen, if she’d actually like what she’d decided upon. If she’d be able to make a living doing it. It was new territory, but a challenge she was willing to take on. And not just because she didn’t technically have a choice.

With her acceptance into U of Pitt, Clarissa headed to Beijing with her head held high, sights set on the gold and a future that seemed to be shining just as brightly. Sure, it wasn’t the same dream she’d had, the future she’d been expecting, but it was something worth celebrating. It was a life still worth living, despite the literal darkness that was creeping into her vision somewhat constantly. Just because she was losing her sight, didn’t mean she was losing everything. There were still things to look forward to and targets to hit.

[richiesmashmouthtozier]

BITE ME!

CHPT.  3/??

read: 1 | 2 | 3 |

A/N: This chapter is way longer than the first two but this is, without a doubt the best chapter yet. So sit back and read all about betrayal and trust issues hahahahahahahaha...

mentions: big thanks to @edsrich for reading the first version of this chapter (i rewrote it lol) and just generally showing interest and being nice:)

also a little mention to @tobzier for showing interest, you may not think you’ve done anything but you actually encouraged me by showing that you liked my idea so thanks:)

description: The losers are only 15 when Derry changes forever. The scars from It are barely faded when the newest threat hits the small town, Zombies. Most adults start getting infected one-by-one leaving many kids to fend for themselves, including the losers club. When Beverly is attacked and bitten by her father she can’t help but think she’s a danger to the club, there’s no escaping yourself.

Pairings: reddie, stenbrough, benverly

!!!!!!TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!!!!!: description of gore and lots of it (it’s a zombie apocalypse), a lot of angst, so many swears oh mY GOD

this chapter: trust issues and angst

And without further ado,

Enjoy :)))))

————————

“You’re hair is winter, fire january embers, my heart burns there too…”

“No not that!”

“Come on Ben think!”

“Ugh this is stupid!”

Beverly woke up with very little memories of what happened the night before, she didn’t even know what time or day it was. She slowly opened her green eyes to reveal a foggy vision starting to adjust. her headache rushed through her brain making her squint. Her stomach was in agony as she curled into a ball. It rumbled and made weird noises, she was hungry. She was so fucking hungry goddamnit.

She thrashed the covers away and used one hand to support her getting up by holding the end table, her other hand, of course, was clenching her stomach. Her legs were shaking bad and felt numb as they hit the floor with every small step. The feeling went from her feet up and caused a wave of exhaustion spread despite her sleeping more than usual.

“He- help…” her voice was raspy and broken. She attempted walking but she had to remain hunched over. This position allowed her to notice all the little things around the room. there was paper scattered along the floor and around the window they threw their trash out of. Along with that there were crayons and broken pencils, almost every typical writing utensil you could find. She didn’t have the time (or energy) to think about what that was all about and kept walking, very slowly.

she took off the giant coat that had been wrapped around her to reveal the bloodstained inside caused by her bloody clothes from the previous zombie wave. She was burning hot but once she took off the jacket she was cold, so she draped the coat over her shoulders without putting her arms through the sleeves. Her steps were slow and she swayed back and forth but she finally reached the door. Her shaking hand pulled the handle down and the door opened. She continued walking down the hallway.

“Bev, what the fucking hell?” Richie quickly finished the stairs and came to the girls side, “You look like complete shit!”

“Richie…” she said at a whisper, “I- I need food…”

“This is all because you’re fucking hungry?” he said surprised as she used his arm as a support beam, “What type of dreams are you having to make you this goddamn hungry?”

“Shut up…” he stomach felt like it was being stabbed and it made weird bubble noises.

“Bill! Get a plate of food!” He yelled. She squinted from hearing the loud noise and her ears started mildly ringing. He picked her up wedding style and carefully walked down stairs.

“Wuh-wuh-what’s wruh-wrong?” Bill said placing the plate on the table with stan resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Bev is starving? I’m not really sure what’s happening either to be honest,” Richie replied helping her in her seat. Eddie took a breath from his inhaler in shock of what he was seeing.

“Jesus Bev!” Stan said. She was gorging the beans as fast as she could with the small fork. The three boys stared at her with confusion that it made Mike confused when he entered the room.

“Um why are we all starting- the hell is she doing?”

She lifted her chin from her last bite and dabbed her napkin around her mouth, “Why is everyone staring?”

“Why? You were eating faster than any animal I’ve ever seen!” Mike said. She glared at him.

“I’m sorry i got hungry,”

“That’s seems like an understatement,” Stan said.

“Yeah that seems a little unhealthy,” Mike said.

“How many times do I have to say that I’m fine?” she got up with both hands on the table, “You don’t need to worry about everything that happens to me,”

“Buh-bev-“ Richie nudged him and gave him the “this won’t help anything so just stop talking” look and Bill nodded.

“I grabbed your guys’s backpacks while I was down there and two of the flashlights need new batteries- BEV!” Ben came from the basement and dropped everything in his hands to run over and hug her, “Holy shit I thought- well i didn’t know what to think!” Bev hugged back but needed to double take on what just happened.

“Uh.. Thanks ben,” she did the only thing she knew what to do when she liked someone and tried to ignore him and focus on something else before she made a fool of herself, “Are you guys going out to town?”

“We were planning on going to the convenience store on Woodblock street,” Mike said rolling up his map.

“Well then I guess I woke up just in time then,” she gave ben his coat back and hesitated but winked, “I’m not waiting up!” she grabbed her backpack hanging over a chair.

“Beverly you can’t be serious,” Stan said parting from Bill.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she gave the sassiest look she could.

“Bev i don’t think this is the best idea,” Ben said holding his coat real tight.

“You legit just died, stuffed your face and now you want to fucking go on an adventure? You’re fucking high, dude,” Richie said looking to Eddie to see if he agreed, he didn’t look at him but he could tell he did.

“Look are we going or not?” Bev said tapping her foot.

“Leh-l-let’s just guh-guh-guh-go,” Bill said walking towards the door.

“Bill,” he looked back to see Stan with his hand on his shoulder and the rest of the boys. All of them were staring at him with mixed expressions: angry and confused.

“Big Bill you might want to rethink this,” Richie said leaning with one hand on the table.

“Yeah you’re going crazy,” Eddie said shaking what was left of his prescription (he’s been saving it up since the apocalypse even though he knew it was all bullshit).

“Luh-luh- look, Bev just guh-got a little sih-sih-sih-sick, she slept all day, o-o-obviously she was huh-hungry,” everyone knew they should follow Bill- he was their leader after all- but in the back of their minds they thought it was wrong. Stan especially was wondering why he kept defending her. Ben was thankful for it but he was worried about his crush, he had spent the whole time she was sleeping making a poem about her just in case something… bad happened.

“We’ll wuh-wuh-wait about a-an hour t-to prepare some muh-muh-more, than we’ll go,”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bev said and threw her backpack on the table top and ran upstairs.

“What the fuck is up with chick,” Richie said out of the silence.

Bev stared herself down in the mirror of her room. Her overalls were covered in blood as for her skin. Her hair was starting to grow out more and it was halfway down her neck. She felt weak. She felt scared. She didn’t feel like herself at all. She started pacing. The feeling of terror hadn’t crossed her this bad in two years when she was forced to face her biggest fear. What was her biggest fear now?

She shook off the thoughts. Don’t be stupid, she said to herself and she did the only thing that felt right.

Exactly an hour went by and Bev came downstairs wearing the same outfit she had worn when they first defeated It. Everyone stared at her surprised, she hadn’t wore that dress since that day. Just seeing Bev in that outfit made them all shiver in fear.

“Is that hair on your shoulder?” Stan pointed out.

“Probably,” She shrugged and dusted it off. She had cut her hair as short as it was with worn down scissors she found in a closet. Of course she didn’t look like she did when she was 13 but, hell, it was close enough to make the rooms air fell thin.

“Wuh-wuh-well we better get going,” Bill said looking back at everyone as they gathered their stuff.

They walked in a in a horizontal line with Bill in the middle holding a fence post nice and tight (with Stan right next to him and the butt of his gun sticking out of his backpack).

Ben stood awkwardly at Beverly’s left (Bill was at the right) and tried to observe Richie and Eddie on the other side. Everyone knew they liked each other, especially after last night's bonfire, and Ben wanted to see how they did it. How they would be so close and nothing was weird. Then he observed Beverly. That outfit made all her features stand out more since the last time she wore that was 2 years ago.

She had grown and he hoped he did too but he never noticed anything new with himself but the people around him seemed to be growing physically and mentally. That wasn’t always a good thing considering Stan was officially diagnosed with OCD and Eddie’s Anxiety got worse to the point where the pills weren’t (gazebos) placebos. His mental health wasn’t right after the event but his mother was too poor to pay for a medical bill to check if there was something they could do about it, but all they could was hope it didn’t get worse.

“This is it!” Mike said almost triumphantly as they walked between an old flower shop to see at the other side of them was an empty convenience store. They had taken the path through the canal where less zombies roamed and kept a sharp eye out. They never talked unless they were in the building that was already checked for those rotten corpses.

Richie went in first and checked to see if there were any zombies in the front and the rest poured in and checked the isles.

“All clear!” Stan yelled after checking the last aisle.

“Oh-okay guh-guys, get wuh-whatever you want,”

“I love being able to take anything I want,” he breathed taking in the scene. Trash mouth Tozier adapted the easiest to the whole apocalypse, no one to miss and no one to miss him, except for his losers. Everyone thought that was sad but they couldn’t lie about the single moments of feeling free.

“Don’t take too much, Tozier we gotta haul this back to the house,” Mike said picking up more cans of baked beans in the third aisle.

“Do you think they’ll have jerky here?” Bev spoke up from the “female product” aisle. Mike audibly gagged at the thought.

“Since when do you like beef jerky?” Stan said while getting jars of peanut butter.

“I dunno, I was just kinda craving something,” Her eyes scanned the store in a hunt for the dried meat. Stan rolled his eyes, after that everyone figured it was just “that time of the month” so no one said anything. The simple sounds of shuffling and small talk was abruptly interrupted by the shrill voice of Eddie Kaspbrak’s high pitched squeal.

“EDS?” Richie yelled running to the other aisle.

“FUCK OFF ME!” He’s voice pierced through the air.

“Eddie?” Mike ran with Richie.

“What’s happening?” Ben yelled as loud as his timid self would allow him next to the girl he loved. Bev started to smell something.

Was that blood?

Why could she smell that?

It smelt like meat?

Did it smell g-

“GET OFF HIM!” Richie yelled interrupting her thoughts.

“Holy shit!” She grabbed Ben’s arm and ran past the empty aisles clutching a fence stick in her other hand.

“FUH-FUH-FUCK!” Bill yelled. When they finally got to the other end of the store they saw the bunch of losers swinging their arms. Eddie was being ripped through the wall by a pair of rotting hands tearing at his clothes and skin. Eddie had one arm on the decaying hand trying to choke him and his other arm was being pulled by Richie who was being supported by Mike. Stan was shooting hands best he could without hitting their victim, but nothing was working.

“Stay out of my way!” Stan was yelling to all of the conflicted teens.

“HELP!” Eddie’s voice cracked. Beverly felt something inside her switch.

“Sorry Stan!” She shoved him out of the way and did the only thing her brain would tell her. She got a good grip on one of those arms and yanked it.

“HOLY FUCK!” Eddie screamed.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Stan said. Ben stared in utter shock.

“SHI-SH-SHIT!” Bill stuttered out.

The arm had been ripped out and the blood was pouring everywhere along with chunks of skin. After the arm was detached Richie took his chance and wrapped his arms around the small boy’s waist and lifted him up with all his strength. He got him far enough from the wall that Ben could use the extra axe the store kept to cut off the arms. They were all running out of the horrific crime scene but Ben stopped at the door, “Bev?” he yelled. She was standing there shaking with the arm in her hands.

What the fuck have I done.

Why the fuck was I gonna do that…

“BEV?” Stan yelled louder.

“Oh shit! uh… sorry,” She threw the at the floor and stumbled into things on her way of running out. After everyone was outside Stan used his second to last bullet and shot the zombie in the head. After that they ran to the back hesitantly and continued along the stream.

“AUGH!” Bev screamed as she hunched over and fell down. Everyone turned to her.

“Uh… Bev?” Bill crouched down and reached a supporting hand.

“GO AWAY!” She swung her arm out and pushed him off balance into the water.

“Bev what the hell?” Richie walked towards her. she started to crawl backwards onto land, “GET AWAY FROM ME!” She was bent over due to the incomparable pain rising in her stomach.

“Bev calm down!” Mike tried to sound supportive.

“FUCK YOU!” She threw a rock at him.

“Beverly?” Ben said quietly walking ahead everyone.

“Bev stop!” Richie yelled. She stared at him with betrayal.

“Holy fuck,” Eddie said under his breath behind the trash mouth.

“AUGH!” She started to cry.

“Bev!” Ben ran to her. she lifted her head up to look at him in the eye. Her eyes started rolling back showing the whites in them.

“WOAH!”

“SHIT!”

“HAYSTACK!”

Stan ran to the front ahead of Bill who was stunned and stuck in the dirt.

He pointed his gun at her.

“Bev what the fuck!” his voice cracked.

“Woah Stan!” Richie yelled, he motioned forward but Eddie grabbed his arm and gave him a scared expression.

“UGH!” she grabbed her face and clenched her hair. She grabbed her bag and stuffed her arm into it. She grabbed the jerky and ripped off the top with her teeth and gorged on it, crouching over her knees. She whipped her head towards the losers club and as if fog had cleared in her eyes, the polished emeralds appeared again.

“I- What- I uh,” She tried to spit out.

“Hey,” Ben said timidly out of the crowd, “You’re okay. We’re- We’re all okay.”

She started crying against a tree as the rest of the gang dragged out of the water to comfort her.

“I’m so sorry…”

Ben was in the room with Bev, Richie was sure they were asleep by now. The rest of them sat on the ripped up couch in the living room. Eddie was leaning on Richie with what was left in his tear ducts stained on his cheeks. Richie was in the same disoriented condition, but everyone knew it was worse. This was the first real loss he’d experienced and she wasn’t even “gone” yet. Mike was in the kitchen cleaning up, it’s what he did when he stressed out. The three could hear Bill and Stan yelling at each other in the bathroom.

“YOU-YOU WERE GUH-GUH-GOING TO KUH-KUH-KUH-KILL HER STAN!”

“SHE COULD’VE KILLED YOU!”

Richie squinted while listening to the yells. Eddie was squeezing his hand noticing the tense feelings.

“WELL FUCK BILL! I DIDN’T KNOW WE WERE KEEPING ZOMBIES HERE NOW!”

“STUH-STAN STOP IT! DUH-DUH-DON’T TALK ABOUT BUH-BEV LIKE THE-THAT!”

“Whatever, Bill,”

“YOU’RE FUH-FUH-FUCKING JEALOUS!”

“OH DON’T YOU FLATTER YOURSELF BIG BILL!”

“You’ve ah-always been jeh-jealous of Bev! YOU-YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN-”

“YOU’RE A DICK! THIS ISN’T ABOUT ME! THERE’S A FUCKING ZOMBIE IN THIS HOUSE GODDAMNIT! AND I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO SEEMS TO CARE!”

“S-STAN STOP IH-IT!”

“STOP WHAT?”

“STUH-STUH-STUH-STOP!”

CRACK

“What the-“ Mike flinched.

Everyone jolted upright. There was a hole in the bathroom door and blood around the left splinters. Bill started crying uncontrollably and fell into Stan's arms, the bird boy just looked at the door in shock while holding his lover close to his chest. All the while two emerald eyes were silently pouring rains from the hallway at the top of the steps.

———————-

A/N: HEYOO!!! I have no idea on how y’all are going to react to this lmao but sorry for my shit writing pretending that what i wrote was so good and hyping it up haha.

Be the first on my tag list? send me an off anon ask!!!!1!!

I don’t have any previews for the next chapter yet sorry:/ but just a btw I’m writing this while crying my eyes out because of the last episode of stranger things.

[raeyvies]

What happens when Seven finds out about MC’s anxiety? pt.1

MC has anxiety revolving fear of being abandoned/thrown away as though she were worthless. However, she has violent and destructive tendencies to cope with her distress. Luckily she has it under control with medication, but what happens when MC stops taking her meds and Seven accidentally triggers her anxiety once again?

Suggested by @revalya​ : “What would Seven do if he meets an MC who has anxiety like Saeran and she only wants to run away?” I switched it up a bit and instead of running away, she pushes Seven away.

You can read the Saeran version of this story here.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Part: 1/3

Length: 2751 words

Pairing: SevenxMC

Warnings: implied sex (still SFW)

Your hands gently grazed the polished, glossy surface of the vehicle you had been saving up for years to buy. You were at a dealer ready to seal the deal and possibly get yourself into a well worth debt with this Mercedes C-Class Coupe. Imagining yourself riding out of this place with a bright red luxury vehicle and driving up to work with it, you were lost in your own world for a while.

I’ve worked hard for this. I deserve this, you told yourself as you chuckled, all the while antsy to finally sign the contract. After all, you didn’t work as a forensic ballistics analyst for nothing, making almost six figures.

Taking a peek at the inside while waiting for a sales representative, you closely looked at the designing of the inside, down to the stitch work, until you felt someone’s body invading in your own personal space. It sent chills down your spine as you felt whoever’s hair it was touch your earlobe and the moment you turned your head to meet his eyes, you saw how close his face was to yours. Reflexes kicking in, you attempted to back away from the car, only to hit your head against the car’s roof, gripping at the top of the opened door to keep your balance.

Grunting at the thumping pain in your skull, you shouted at the red hair man, “Aghh! Don’t you have any sense of personal space? There’s literally another door, use it!”

“Oh but from here I can get the best view,” he said. You thought it was a joke but as you glared at him, practically burning holes through him, it came to you that he was actually being serious.

“I’m guessing no one taught you how to be patient then.”

“Anyway, my bad. I didn’t know you would freak out like that, I just assumed you wouldn’t mind.” What bugged you was how casual he was being about this all. Who in the world actually assumes that having a stranger that close to you wouldn’t scare you at all?

Rolling your eyes, you were about to leave him to his own businesses, and dismissed him sarcastically, “Yes, because everyone in this world doesn’t mind having someone four inches away from themselves. Have a good day--”

“Saeyoung,” he interjected.

“Excuse me?”

Finally pulling himself out of the car, you finally took a full look at him and you almost gasped at how handsome he was. You were surprised seeing as he was so much taller than you. He was wearing a black tank top showing through his opened, white button up shirt, sleeves folded at his elbows. And his hair was a bright vermillion. You had never seen someone with such vibrant hair and from what you could tell, it was his natural hair color. And it looked so fine on him.

“‘Have a good day, Saeyoung,’” he bowed slightly, moving his hand in a rolling motion, as though he were greeting himself even though you were just leaving him. “I think that’s what you meant to say.”

You gave him a side glare, a confused yet stunned expression painted on your face, “You don’t really know how to...uh...be social, do you, Saeyoung?”

Saeyoung awkwardly scratched the back of his head, and shook his head, “I’m really sorry. I hardly get to talk to anyone besides my computer. We got off on the wrong hand didn’t we?”

You confess that maybe you did get slightly defensive unnecessarily and you apologized too. The two of you view the inside of the Mercedes, this time from different doors and from there, you two continued your conversation, you being first to break the ice. “You're right though. She's a beauty and I'm hoping to drive out with one of these today.”

“Good choice. I already have one of these but next year's model,” Saeyoung boasts while you were left dumbstruck. How could he have the next model if this one just came out? Picking up on your confusion, he laughed, “That’s everyone’s reaction. Let’s just say I have connections and a garage with fifteen cars.”

This guy, this tall glass of fruit punch, had it all. At this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he said he was heir to some conglomerate. For a few more minutes, the two of you shared some conversations of over your interests and about cars, and in the end you found he was actually a cool guy. You wouldn’t mind being friends with him. Saeyoung was about to ask you if you wanted to keep talking over some bubble tea or whatever appetized you when a sales representative finally approached.

“Give me an hour and this baby will be mine,” you crow at him in return for bragging about his fifteen some cars. Saeyoung smirked in response and told you he would wait until you came out with your new car.

You thought little of it thinking he was just being friendly to you, but when you left the office with new keys in your hands, you saw that he was still there with headphones over his ears. He really had waited for you and that made you heart swell just the slightest bit. You had grown so used to blowing off others or being the one blown off, so seeing him there gave you joy.

Despite having anxiety about being abandoned, your medication always kept you stable and able to socialize without your fears disturbing you. Saeyoung now said what he was previously planning to say, and asked you out to keep talking over fried chicken and honey bwatda chips since that was what you were hungry for.

You drove out of the dealer with a brilliant and shiny new Mercedes while Saeyoung followed behind you in his own luxury sports car. Since you were in the city, you couldn’t afford to go speeding down the streets but at night you knew you would. You got to know Saeyoung even more, and you found his personality attractive. You felt a magnetic pull to him. His cheeriness and joking aura charmed you in the end. You hadn’t felt this with anyone since you started your therapy sessions years ago and quite honestly you missed this feeling. Then again, you were the one who avoided any possible attachment but with Saeyoung you felt that if you at least remained casual, you wouldn’t be hurt. You also didn’t plan to tell him anytime of your mental issues.

However, you wouldn’t know what to do if the two of you did become serious.

The both of you had a great time on your first date that happened later that weekend after your first encounter with him. You got to know more about each other’s occupations and you became more sociable. You found out he was working as an intelligence specialist under an agency and he learned you were a ballistics analysts for an agency as well. Saeyoung thought to himself that he caught a real smart one and told you that. It was burdensome and embarrassing to have been told that, but you couldn’t help but blush. In fact, you felt like nothing was wrong with you when you blushed. It was like you had become a new person. Although in Saeyoung’s presence you didn’t think much of your dilemma, at home, you stirred at night unable to sleep. You kept asking yourself why you weren’t fearing attachment to him.

And that was what you discussed with your therapist that week. She told you that therapy was working very well and since you were always on top of your medication, you were more in control of your emotions now. So she recommended to lower your dosage gradually until you were off the medication for good. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a bad feeling. You felt that one day you would fall back and be consumed by your worries and become violent again. It was your way of protecting yourself. You would rather abandon someone than to be thrown away by that person. You would drive them away like that.

Worst of all, you had no control over yourself. Once your violent outbursts were triggered by fear, it was nearly impossible for you to stop.

You prayed that you wouldn't lose your self control in front of Saeyoung. He really didn't deserve it.

That week you declined a date with Saeyoung because you were still adjusting to no longer using your anxiety medication. For a while, though it felt like an eternity, you would be jittery. You wouldn't eat. You couldn't sleep. You wanted to be with Saeyoung. But he can't see me like this, you thought to yourself as you held a mug a little too tight. Before it could break in your own hand, you lunged it at a wall, letting it shatter and litter the floor.

That became a routine because laying off the medication was not the wisest decision, but your therapist refused to give you another prescription. For now, even though you were anxious and violent, you weren't afraid, and that was progress admittedly. Your therapist told you to give it some time, so everyday you broke one mug, or plate, or cup. And when you ran out of them, you bought some more. As unorthodox as it was, it kept you stable.

You couldn't imagine what would happen the day fear came back into your life, reclaiming its pedestal in your body. You wouldn't let it; you knew that Saeyoung wouldn't throw you away and dispose of you like a used doll.

What you didn't know was that Saeyoung had already tapped into your phone and had already run a background check on you. Through your phone’s microphone, he heard you smashing every single mug. The first few times he was distressed and wanted to run to you, but that would reveal he knew more about you than you thought.. You didn't even know yet where he lived and you hasn't told him your address either.

It was a bad habit of his but it served its purpose as he found out about your therapy sessions too. The night he read about you, he knew he couldn't push you away like he did to everyone else. He didn't want to damage you more than you already were; rather, he wanted to stitch you back up piece by piece until your anxiety was imprisoned. Saeyoung would be doing what he couldn't do for his brother all those years ago. Of course he never made a mention about knowing, but his subtle gestures hinted that he knew something.

Having recuperated your center and grown used to the lack of drugs in your body, you finally cleaned up the mess you had made in your apartment. It took a few hours but you were proud of yourself. Cleaning up the pieces of glass was like picking up the missing pieces in your life.

Saeyoung stopped hearing the sound of shattering glass every day and was sure that you were recovering and moving past your anxiety. He also learned that you had been accused of domestic violence but now he understood where it came from. He began putting two and two together, and it dawned on him that it was just your defensive mechanism because he had read that you feared commitment and attachment.

But both of you knew that you wanted to take it further. You started making an effort to change yourself, and Saeyoung’s subtle gestures were making a difference even if you didn't see it.

After about two months as a casual couple, one date the both of you took deepened your relationship.

It was Saeyoung’s idea to go out and have a little race in the middle of nowhere. Oh he has some creative ideas for dates right? Seeing as you were competitive too, you accepted his challenge. The two of you in separate cars, engines roaring, sped down a deserted highway that day, and adrenaline coursed through your veins. The rush of driving at 100+ miles per hour was so exhilarating that you hadn’t notice you won until you finally came to a stop.

In the end, you came out victorious against the one who even suggested the race and with a smirk you greeted the unfortunate loser. Leaning casually against your car you winked at your boyfriend as he got out of his car and jokingly, relished in his misfortune, “Don't tell me now that you just lost on purpose. Admit it, your girlfriend is a better driver than you.”

As your boyfriend stepped out of his car, he swept his hair back and chuckled at your cocky way of expressing yourself, striding towards you. Saeyoung placed his hands on your waist and closed the space between the two of you. You saw that he was biting his lip as he looked down at you. Since there’s such a height difference between you and Saeyoung, it made you look like an adorable couple. But in that moment, it only increased the tension between you two. He was so close to you and you could feel his heartbeat; you could hear his breathing so closely that you could tell he was still calming down from the rush of racing. Moving a strand of hair from your face with his finger, he admitted, “You know I actually won right?”

Seeing your confused expression, he added in a lower voice, “Because you're my girlfriend.”

You gave him a glance that only said, Tell me more. Honestly you couldn't get enough of his flattery and just waited for Saeyoung to continue as you pulled him closer, your fingers hooked in his belt loops.

“You're beautiful. Competitive. Extremely intelligent. A fighter.”

“I know.”

“We're all alone out here too. No one’s watching us.”

Instead of saying anything, you just closed the gap between the both of you even more.

“And I love you. So so much.”

“I know,” you whispered as though it were a secret. You licked your lips out of habit waiting for Saeyoung to say more.

“Do you?” He asked with an implying tone. You two had grown to know each other so well in the last few months and you knew exactly what he was trying to say. You rise to your tip toes, one hand grasping at his shirt to pull him down to your level, and clashed your lips with his. You felt as Saeyoung caressed your waist, he was also pushing you onto the hood of your car, slowly and gently.

As the kiss became more heated, the sexual tension multiplied, feeling his waist between your legs. Saeyoung bit your lip and loved the sounds you made as you tried to find some breaths in between. It was almost a whining yet pouty sound.

And then the kisses moved on to your neck, making you gasp but wishing for it to never end. He started unbuttoning your shirt all the while grazing your skin with his rough fingers under your tank top. You could feel his heat so close to you and you just pulled him closer to you, desperately craving more of him.

“W-wait,” you whispered and Saeyoung paused. He thought that maybe he was crossing a line but as he was about to pull away from you, you pouted, “I don't want a dent in my baby!”

You were obviously referring to your car.

“Oh my god, MC,” Saeyoung sighed in relief half out of breath with his heart racing. “Ruining the moment much.”

You gave him a devilish smile, with lust clouding your eyes, as you slid off the hood and opened the door to the passenger seat. “I learned it from you, love.”

Saeyoung laughed under his breath thinking that he was right; he had the greatest girlfriend he could ask for. He knew that he made the right choice to never push you away. He watched as you teasingly removed your shirt and jeans, only leaving your translucent tank top on, revealing your body’s curves, and slid into the passenger seat that had readily been adjusted for such an occasion. Saeyoung didn't take long to follow you, allured by your seduction.

Right then and there he left his trace on you that he existed. That was not the last time he left his seal on you, and you never wanted it to stop.

To be continued.

[snaurus]

UPDATE: Prescription (2/2)

Pairings: None Ratings: T Categories: Angst/Friendship/Humor Warnings: Blood, Illness, Violence

Maybe getting sick was just the thing Noctis needed.

It’s a Christmas miracle! Today, I received the good news from @glyphenthusiast that the rest of this story was ready for reviewing, so here it is in all its completed glory. If you’re new to the story you can read part 1 here or find the entirety of it on AO3! 

The introduction was supposed to resemble the Omen trailer, since I wanted to include something equally dramatic and action-packed without ripping from the source material verbatim. Readers can probably pick up on the similarities with Noctis losing his weapons recall ability, the overall chaos, etc. Hopefully I did the creative geniuses behind the video some justice.

Have a happy holiday everyone, and enjoy!

The city of Insomnia is burning. Where smoke doesn't obscure the skyline, airships blot it out overhead. Buildings crumble under heavy artillery barrages.

Noctis stands under one of those collapsing structures – the Citadel. An explosion from inside, burning brighter and hotter than the sun, originates from the tallest tower. The blast rockets straight through the entirety of the palace, blowing out windows and supporting structures.

He knows he should move, but both feet stay planted shoulder width apart. His arms dangle at his sides as he cranes his neck back, hair billowing into his eyes. The dark strands aren't enough to block out the incoming stone, glass, and steel falling towards him.

Three sets of hands shove him out of harm's way. Noctis raises his arms to feebly defend himself. All he experiences is a blast of heat. He cracks open an eye to see Lestallum overrun with daemons.

The creatures crawl on top of everything. A Naga's body coils in and out of the doors, windows, and balconies of the Leville Hotel. Goblins are ransacking and vandalizing property. An Iron Giant slams its greatsword into a water fountain, decimating the architecture, before noticing Noctis' presence.

He dodges to the right and rolls under its blade. Noctis motions to summon a sword of his own, but nothing happens. He avoids another swing from the Iron Giant's weapon. In the span where the enemy tries to re-orientate itself, he calls on his arsenal of spears, guns, shields, anything. The sharp stab of light that signifies a weapon materializing simply isn't there.

Noctis sees no alternative; he flees. He rushes into a side street and runs into a Ronin. He slides under the rapid swings of its katana. Without losing his momentum, he keeps running. Another daemon appears, this time through a portal at his feet. It swipes at his pant leg. His ankle and calf bleed immediately. He continues, ignoring the injury.

The marketplace is dead ahead. Daemons swarm the streets here, too. He leaps onto one of the tarps above the closest stall. The monsters howl after him. Some tear down the shops in his wake or spit acid. A wad of it lands on Noctis' shoulder as he races to the end. He stumbles the last of the way, striking the ground with one knee.

He grits his teeth and brushes off his sleeve as best he can. Ultimately, Noctis rips the material away when it doesn't stop tingling. The skin is raw under his glove and fingertips. He limps to the nearest steps, panting up each one. His lungs feel as though they are ablaze. It is hard to breathe as he crests the stairs.

Where he expects to see the meteorite is a gaping, dark hole. The metal platform that was once the sole access to the power plant is mangled beyond repair. It was broken off at the end, as if a Behemoth had chomped down and gnawed on it.

"Noct?"

Growls and hisses from behind him have Noctis whirling around. Daemons close in on all sides. He steps backwards, startling when the heel of his boot floats over open air. Noctis stands at the edge of the bridge and stares into the divide. There is nowhere else to go.

"Noct!"

He faces forward. The monsters are closer. A Hobgoblin swings a giant fist at him, knocking him square in the chest. His body goes flying.

"Will you quit it? It's just me!"

Noctis' plummeting into nothingness stops, like a puppet caught on its strings. His breathing remains erratic, but he isn't inhaling ash, or fumes, or death. What he smells is muskier, with hints of wood smoke and tree sap. Noctis doesn't know how long he's suspended there. Eventually, the natural scents calm his panic. He eases downward, righting himself. His eyes flutter open to see nothing, at first. Situated across his forehead was something damp. Pulling a face, Noctis sat up. What turned out to be a washcloth fell into his lap. For now, he disregarded it.

A small lantern was switched on, but some last vestiges of sunlight filtered into the tent. He couldn't figure how long he'd slept, but Noctis knew it was much later in the day and that Prompto was gone. To be replaced by Gladiolus' guardianship, apparently.

The other man was lying on his side, head propped on his left hand and leafing through a history textbook. Noctis didn't comprehend why, exactly, but seeing Gladiolus whole and present calmed the remainder of his frantic heartbeat. It was dumb, needing to feel safe with him right then, but it wasn't like he'd admitted the fact aloud. He could go on pretending that everything was normal.

Without breaking from his reading, Gladiolus reached behind himself and proffered a bottle. Noctis' arms felt like the consistency of a wet noodle, but he managed to accept the offering. The plastic top was loosened for him, so he chugged what turned out to be a flavored drink. He didn't stop to check its contents until two-thirds of the liquid was gone and he needed to breathe.

Noctis gasped when he finished. He examined the exterior, turning the container in his hands. Kenny Crow stared back at him, promoting the orange-infused sports drink. Greedily, he finished what was left. Some spilled out the corner of his mouth, so Noctis wiped the excess off on his sleeve.

"What time is it?" he croaked.

"Dinner time," Gladiolus said curtly. Reaching behind again, he presented a stainless steel thermos. It was the simple variety where the top popped off to serve as a café mug and the secondary was a twist cap. Like before, the seal was broken for him. Not enough to spill, but Noctis didn't have to exert himself to open it.

Inside was leftover soup. The idea of eating another helping didn't appeal to him, but he was starving. Noctis forewent the faux-mug accessory and drank right from the thermos. The soup was lukewarm and all broth; this made it easy to choke down. Although he'd been ravenous, Noctis only managed to finish a fraction of his meal.

He capped the thermos, fumbling twice in the process. His coordination was next to useless, but a quick glance over to Gladiolus revealed him too absorbed in his book to have witnessed his flub. It could be an act, since very little ever got past the other man, but Noctis didn't want to risk bringing attention to his lack of skill.

Noctis hesitated before handing the container to Gladiolus. He wordlessly took it. The prince cleared his throat, it backfiring when a pinch formed in the back of his throat, but he managed to ask, "I miss anything?"

"Well," Gladiolus started, with the air of an apex predator that'd just found its opening to go for the jugular, "someone gave us one hell of a scare earlier. He was kind of a dick about it."

He scowled, immediately on the defensive. Gladiolus tended to have that effect on him. Afterwards he appreciated the honesty, since transparency was hard to come by in his royal life, but getting steamrolled in the process was never a pleasant experience.

"I know." Noctis side-eyed the other man and caught Gladiolus staring him down, chin resting in his palm. He wasn't yelling or posturing, meaning he might not be mad yet. This was something altogether worse. Gladiolus' disappointment didn't often supersede his temperament, but when it did, he upheld anyone's bullheadedness.

Yeah, well. Noctis was disappointed, too.

"I was doing so much better," Noctis seethed. He took up the washcloth in his lap and wrung it between his fingers. "The fuck am I getting sick for, at a time like this?"

Gladiolus let his book slip shut. He reasoned, "It's not like you've been exposed to these kinds of stressful conditions before. You gotta take it slow. Besides, you might as well take advantage; this is the only chance you'll get where I'm willing to go easy on you."

"Easy?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes, easy! Iggy was worried about you, you know. We all are."

"So?" Noctis mumbled, still unable to look him in the eye.

"So get better. We can't afford for our fearless leader to be out of commission for too long."

Gladiolus sat up and took away the washcloth making Noctis' fingertips all wrinkly. He replaced it with a new, cooler one. Contrary to his tone, he then ruffled the prince's hair and smoothed the bangs out of his face. Embarrassed by the care, Noctis showed him his back and squished the compress over his eyes.

"Fine. We done?" he asked.

"If you feel up to being a decent member of society," Gladiolus said. He was already returning to his book, the creak of its spine sounding as he resumed where he left off.

Ass, he thought. At Noctis' best it was like arguing with a brick wall, and he especially wasn't feeling up to competing with Gladiolus in his current state. He reluctantly conceded, instead. "Maybe later."

Gladiolus grunted and said, "Good enough."

It didn't take much for them to come to terms, which was a relief for Noctis' anxiety. His shoulders eased as the tension left him. The washcloth smelled earthy where Gladiolus had held it, reminding Noctis of…he didn't know what, but it lulled him further, regardless. Noctis awakened not with confusion or mild terror, but an off-ness that he can't explain. And it was completely dark. All their lanterns were off, but enough firelight from their campfire shown past the tent that he could see enough.

There was a huddled lump beside him. Prompto had cocooned himself in his sleeping bag, curled into a tiny ball. The sole part of him that remained visible were some blond tufts of hair that stuck out the top.

Noctis, lying on his back, needed only to turn his head to observe Gladiolus on his other side. His form was more distinct in the dark, body stretched out and one arm thrown over his eyes. He snored softly in his sleep.

He didn't spot Ignis, causing Noctis to lift his head a little higher in an attempt to find him. His advisor's bedroll was empty. Ignis' missing presence might explain the odd sensation that'd enveloped him while he slept.

With an effort, Noctis pushed away all but one bed covering. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like a shawl as he exited the tent. He almost tripped over Bon Bon on his way out. She raised her head from the crouch she was in and he gave her an idle scritch under the chin to dissuade her from making any unhappy sounds. She clicked her beak softly at the treatment and lowered her head once he was done, but watched him like a hawk.

He surveyed the rest of the outside. Their chairs encircled the fire, which cast warm hues that intermixed with the blues of the haven wards. Some rustling by the portable grill drew his attention, where Ignis busied himself cleaning up for the night. Silky was hovering over his shoulder, probably begging for leftover scraps.

Noctis walked closer, disturbing some loose stones on the ground. Ignis straightened in place. His hardened expression faded to concern as he realized it was Noctis making an approach and not an enemy.

"Noct! What are you doing awake?" he asked. He gently brushed Silky away and intercepted Noctis halfway. The blanket was wrapped tight around Noctis' shoulders, but Ignis fussed with the covering anyway and drew it closer around his front. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm okay," Noctis said. The reassurance sounded like a singular word rather than two. It was an effort to talk, although surprisingly not because of a sore throat. The soup and electrolytes from his drink earlier had started to aid his wrecked immune system, but his sinuses hadn't gotten the memo yet. The congestion in his nose made conversation a challenge.

"…Of course." Ignis' ministrations slowed, the change in demeanor not immediately apparent.

An arm curled around Noctis' hunched back and guided him toward a seat near the campfire instead of insisting he return inside. "Come-come, then. It's late. At least get off your feet."

Noctis didn't argue and dropped heavily into his chair. The heat from the fire felt good on his muscles and he eased deeper into his seat. Ignis didn't join him, fiddling with something over by the grill. At first he assumed the other man went back to cleaning or prepping for tomorrow, but eventually he came over with a steaming mug.

He frowned, at first refusing to accept it. Noctis felt up to his eyeballs in soup and the thought of choking anymore down unsettled his gut. "You didn't have to do this. I'm not hungry."

"It's tea," Ignis said. His hand didn't waver as he continued to hold it out to him. "I added ginger root to quail your stomach and lemon to boost your recovery."

Noctis grunted and unfurled a hand from his blanket to finally take the drink. He held it close to his face, allowing the scent and vapors to radiate on his skin. The initial sip cleared his sinuses with a sudden pop that had him gagging, more so than from the aftertaste.

"I may have brewed it rather strong," Ignis supplied, distinctly unapologetic. Noctis was about to unleash a string of sarcastic gratitude when he felt something rest on his shoulders. He glanced around and saw Ignis' purple spotted jacket resting there, the sight making him clamp his mouth shut.

He stared into the recesses of his tea instead, clutching the mug tighter in his hands. Ignis kindly shooed Silky away from his work area. The chocobo had been pecking at the stew pot in his absence and emptied whatever had been inside. In the tranquility, with his friend not paying attention to him, Noctis said, "You're going to make a cool dad someday."

The advisor's ministrations missed a beat, but the scraping of his brush on the grates resumed before he deigned to reply. "Thank you. Although, as Gladio pointed out, that's a long ways off for all of us."

"I know that. I'm just saying," Noctis mumbled.

His task of cleaning done, Ignis grabbed his own drink – a can of decaf Ebony coffee – and joined him. Ignis folded himself neatly into a chair, one leg crossed at the knee.

"You don't normally discuss these matters. Has it been weighing on your mind?" he asked. Ignis popped the tab on the container of coffee and the bitter smell intermingled with Noctis' tea. The prince didn't much care for either or the combination of smells, but the Ebony was at least familiar to deal with.

"Something like that," Noctis admitted. Fatherhood had been low on his list of priorities, but it was a lesser topic than what was really bothering him. When it came to battle or politics he had no qualms trusting Ignis' wit, but broaching any of his many shortcomings was painful for Noctis. He didn't know how to convey how sorry he was for the way he'd acted, even in private.

Although, now that he needed to face the subject, he wasn't that relieved. It was kind of useless to worry about heirs if he died before reclaiming the throne. "Luna and I exchanged whole books, talking about a lot of things, but…that wasn't ever one of them."

Truth be told, Noctis wasn't sure how she felt about children, either. He could see her surrounded by them. Luna was so full of love and kindness, more than enough to go around. That didn't mean she'd want some of her own, though. Especially if she were sincere about traveling to honor her Oracle duties, on top of being a queen. If anyone were capable of doing it, however, he believed she could.

"Well, perhaps you can start small. Shared custody of a feline, perhaps?" Ignis' smirking around his can of decaf showed how clever he thought his aside, but Noctis' interests were avidly piqued.

"Just one?" he asked.

"Only to decide if the dual responsibility is manageable. Should you two be amenable, you may decide to turn your shared kingdoms into a cat sanctuary."

"I can work with that," Noctis said.

The tea had gone cold in his hands. He set the remainder aside to bury his limb under the layers of protection he had. Ignis finished off his drink and had other ideas, it seemed. He rose from his seat and doused the fire, the embers turning gray and then black.

"If you're feeling tired then let's get you to bed, proper."

"But I'm comfortable," he whined.

Ignis approached and bundled his jacket tighter around Noctis' shoulders, ushering him out of his chair. "Now do as you're told, young man."

They held the charade for all of five seconds until the both of them gave way to laughter. Noctis got to his feet, leaning into Ignis as he guided him to the tent. "There's no way that's going to work on your future kid."

"Then it's best to practice my technique while I can," he reasoned.

Noctis stopped in his tracks. His friend didn't pressure him, but he did stare quizzically.

"Thanks. For the soup yesterday. It helped; even if it was just vegetable water." Ignis snorted, but Noctis' forehead buried into the other man's chest. "And sorry. Ya know, for being a jackass."

"Gladio butted in again and let into you, I see," he said wryly.

"He was right, though." He recoiled at the admission. "Gladio can never know I said that. I forbid you from referring to it."

"As you've decreed. Think nothing of it," Ignis demurred. His reassurance didn't have the desired outcome. It wasn't as obvious when Ignis initially evaded mentioning it, but Noctis picked up on his careful choice of words. The prince only had himself to blame, due to his earlier vehemence about his health.

"You're allowed to be annoyed at me," Noctis grouched. He remembered a time when Ignis nagged him daily to do his homework, to keep with politics, to regulate his time wisely, what to eat. Whenever they came to a head it was almost a relief. Noctis wasn't looking for a fight, but he'd relax better knowing what the other man was really thinking.

"Your guilt is evidence enough of your regret," Ignis said, "but if it means that much to you, all is forgiven."

The pardon came so readily, so easily. Noctis lifted his head and turned in Ignis' grip. His hold loosened, but Ignis left his hands in place so they slid along Noctis' body. His expression wasn't open, but it was serene.

"After all, I am well acquainted with your poor mannerisms during these weathered times."

"Theeere it is," Noctis deadpanned, although he slumped in relief. If Ignis was making quips at his expense, then matters really were settled.

"Anymore of my council that you require before we retire?" Ignis asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. Bedtime," he announced.

Noctis swept past Bon Bon and entered the tent. He collapsed in the middle of their two friends, elbowing his way and wriggling around to reclaim his spot. Normally he was opposed to sharing his space and threatened to kick anyone who got too close. However, his temperature was fluctuating again, and Prompto and Gladiolus were space heaters reincarnate.

At his insistence, Gladiolus grunted in his sleep and rolled over to show his back. Noctis greedily turned so his back pressed against the wider expanse of his, soaking up the guardsman's body heat. In turn, Noctis pressed his face into the comfort of Prompto's side.

Ignis was more meticulous (and considerate) in comparison. He was careful not to disturb anyone as he took vigilance on the far side of Prompto. Noctis listened to him settling in, adjusting his pillows, before laying down. The soft opening and closing of his eyeglasses case predated the sigh he released as he went to sleep. It was almost too quiet for Noctis to hear, but he did and it was enough to urge him to sleep, too. A sharp prod in the middle of his back roused Noctis from his slumber. He'd assumed that he was alone this late in the morning, but maybe Gladiolus was keeping watch again. And being the big jerk he is.

"Knock it off," he grumbled. Another jab elicited a blind swat over his shoulder. "Quit it!"

"Kweh!"

He yelped at the foghorn in his ear. Noctis got caught in the sheets and sleeping bags as he mad-scrambled to face the loud intruder. His chocobo had shoved her head inside, almost to the full extent her neck allowed.

"Bon Bon, what—" Noctis forewent talking and feebly gave her a firm shove in the direction of the entrance. She answered him with a short string of chirps and clacks of her beak. Laughter outside, most likely at his expense, caused Noctis' cheeks to flush brighter than his fever already had. He pushed harder at her, but she didn't budge. "I'm up, I'm up! Now get out."

His bird was as responsive to moving as a Regalia without gas in its tank: heavy and wily, at best. Eventually there was enough room for him to crawl between her legs and escape. It wasn't his most graceful awakening, but at least he wasn't crowded inside the tent anymore. A click of someone taking a picture with their phone had Noctis' head snapping up. Gladiolus' fingers were already flying across the digital keyboard.

"Delete that!" he ordered and rushed over. Noctis went to snatch the cell phone away from him. Gladiolus, infuriatingly, just had to raise his arms out of reach while still messaging whoever it was he was contacting.

"Too late. Iris says you're adorable. Like one of Bon Bon's little chicks."

Noctis practically scaled Gladiolus' body to grab the device from him, but it was true. The chat screen was full of hearts and kissy-face emojis under a picture of Noctis' gangly escape. He was tucked into the chocobo's downy feathers, all but his face and an arm visible underneath her.

While he fumed, Gladiolus asked, "You're pretty spirited today. Feeling better?"

"I was."

"Let him be," Ignis reprimanded from the background. His was the only other chocobo present, it watching curiously as Ignis sewed buttons and mended holes in their clothes. Noctis wished his fowl acted that docile.

"Yeah, let me be," Noctis said. He tossed Gladiolus' smart phone, aiming for his face, but the other man caught it without breaking eye contact. His smirk had Noctis scowling. "Where's Prompto?"

"Hunting," Gladiolus said. His grin hadn't abated; it may have even doubled in size at the declaration.

The prince stared at him expectantly, but when Gladiolus wasn't forthcoming with more information he turned to regard Ignis for guidance. Still without deterring from his task, the advisor clarified, "Prompto volunteered to go fishing for our breakfast."

"Fishing," Noctis mimicked, albeit disbelieving.

"Yep," Gladiolus said.

"We're going to starve," he determined.

"I can hear you guys!" Prompto called from somewhere behind and below them. He was riding on Silky, with Drumstick tethered to her saddle. The red chocobo was loaded down with two sacks, presumably full of fish.

"Oh, my. This is a pleasant surprise," Ignis said. He folded the shirt in his hands and set it on top of a pile of other completed garments in a basket.

Gladiolus was already hauling one of the bags off his chocobo, Noctis attempting to see around his shoulder. This was unbelievable; whenever he wanted to go fishing, he practically had to beg Prompto to accompany him. Even then, his friend stood around complaining, if he wasn't idling on his phone or fiddling with the settings on his camera. And here his friend was, with a week's worth of trout!

Ignis came over and peeked inside the other bag. He lifted one of the fish by the gills, turning it every which way to inspect the haul. "That's peculiar. These appear to already be partially cooked?"

The reason why came to Noctis. He weakly shoved Prompto in the arm. His friend flinched, although it was out of shame as opposed to pain. "Cheater!"

"Lightning magic isn't cheating!" Prompto sniffed haughtily. "There are no rules to fishing, so fair is fair! You should be thanking me, you know."

"I suppose my work is minimized," Ignis said dryly. He chose a few other specimens for breakfast. "Jerky may be best for the remaining stock. Gladio, if you would?"

"On it," the other man said. Gladiolus grabbed both sacks to begin the process of converting the rest for long-term storage.

Prompto shifted from foot-to-foot as Ignis began to fillet their food. "Um."

"Yes?" Ignis asked.

"The first few I tried to catch… I mean…" He floundered for awhile, before settling on, "You might want to be extra careful? Or we shouldn't chew too hard. Whichever."

Ignis' hand stilled for a second, before resuming with the same skilled and harried pace as before. "Ah. Not precisely how I foresaw us adding iron to our diet. I'll be sure to be thorough while deboning the meat."

"Yeah," Prompto agreed, ducking his head.

During the activity, Noctis meandered over to a chair and sat down. He kicked out his legs and clasped both hands on his chest. After Bon Bon was assured that he wasn't going to choke on his own flem during his sleep she'd dismissed him to go scouring in the grass for bugs, leaving him the first chance to be left alone to his own devices.

"Oi!" Gladiolus voice called over, interrupting his thoughts. "You going to help out here or what?"

"Can't. Too sick." Noctis fake hacked into a fist, which morphed into a real coughing fit.

"Oh. Now you're sick. When five minutes ago you were on the mend, and the days before that you weren't sick at all."

Noctis ignored the guardsman's grumblings. If he'd really wanted the help, Gladiolus would have thrown the prince over his shoulder and made him assist in turning fish into jerky. So he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, at peace.

[naturopathycanada]

7 Alternative Medicine Treatments Doctors Actually Recommend

Natural medicine isn't just "woo-woo" health. Here are the as soon as far-out solutions top docs are utilizing

Alternative medicine goes slightly more mainstream

I had a few months of weird signs and symptoms consisting of heart palpitations, insomnia, and also extreme exhaustion. Ultimately, after some blood tests, my gynecologist took out her prescription pad and scribbled ... the name of an ancient herb. 2 things about this were unusual. First, the natural herb, ashwagandha, seemed to assist. Second, my mainstream doctor in country Florida recommended a natural herb?

However my doctor is not the only one dabbling in natural medicine. While many doctors stay doubtful, a Harvard research study discovered that natural medication use has leapt 15 percent in the United States. And the American Hospital Organization states greater than a third of the nation's health centers provide integrative medication. Below are some treatment options that are verified to work.

Assisted images to assist recovery from surgical procedure

Envisioning your success pre- as well as post-surgery may assist your recuperation. A Kaiser Permanente study located surgery individuals that made use of an assisted images program reduced their anxiety as well as pain And also, 93 percent would suggest the program. Gulshan K. Sethi, MD, a cardiothoracic doctor at the Arizona Wellness Scientific research Center as well as teacher at the College of Arizona University of Medication, includes that envisioning yourself recovered could especially reduce your heart price. Dr. Sethi doesn't force patients to do directed imagery, yet most take his suggestion.

Acupuncture to deal with pain.

According to Lonnie Zeltzer, MD, the supervisor of the pediatric pain program at the Mattel Kid's Medical facility in Los Angeles as well as teacher at the David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA, individuals with chronic pain frequently experience a "snowball result." Meaning, the longer the pain lingers, the tougher it is to deal with. That's why she suggests acupuncture to the majority of patients, among other techniques. "We do not know specifically just how it works, but it has been located to enhance levels of feel-good mind chemicals like serotonin as well as endorphins, and also it might additionally shut off parts of the brain involved with discomfort assumption," she states. Research study released in the Journal of Pain backs this up. Scientists discovered that acupuncture effectively treats chronic pain. A lot more especially, it persist over time, and the advantages can not be explained away solely by the sugar pill impact. Right here are a lot more tested ways to take care of chronic pain without medicine.

Yoga for anxiety and anxiety

Yoga exercise could not appear like natural medicine, but the method is extremely helpful for your health and wellness. A study released in the Journal of Alternative and also Corresponding Medicine discovered that people with significant depressive problem (anxiety) that join yoga exercise and also deep breathing courses at the very least twice once a week experience a remarkable dip in their depressive signs and symptoms. Patricia Gerbarg, MD, a psychoanalyst and also assistant medical professor at New York Medical University, includes that inhaling and exhaling in equal procedure makes a distinction. "We believe transforming the breath sends out signals up the vagus nerve, informing the mind that the body is kicked back, so the mind may relax too," Dr. Gerbarg states. That said, Dr. Gerbarg still prescribes drug for clients that require it, but she's seen individuals that don't react to medicines or psychiatric therapy enhance after practicing yoga exercise with deep breathing for 20 minutes two times a day.

Hypnotherapy to soothe irritable bowel syndrome

Various research studies reveal that cranky digestive tract syndrome (IBS) individuals may minimize their signs and symptoms with hypnotherapy. One research in Condition Pharmacology and Rehabs from 2015 located that 76 percent of 1,000 IBS people cut the severity of their symptoms in half with hypnosis. One more study in the American Journal of Medical Hypnotherapy also found that the benefits of this natural medicine last after 6, 10, or 12-month follow-up sessions. David Spiegel, MD, a psychiatrist, and teacher at Stanford Medical College, has actually hypnotized more than 9,000 patients for everything from anxieties to IBS. Do not miss out on these natural stomach ache treatments you never ever found out about.

Tai chi for sleeping disorders

Research study released in the journal of Organic Psychology shows that cognitive behavioral therapy incorporated with tai chi may reduce both insomnia and also inflammation. After one year of treatment, those on cognitive behavior modification and also tai chi had actually minimized blood levels of C-reactive healthy protein. Plus, they had actually reduced manufacturing of pro-inflammatory cytokines-- both signs of inflammation. The Facility for Spirituality as well as Healing at the College of Minnesota recommends practicing tai chi to lower stress and anxiety as well as assist you drop off to sleep quicker, also.

Aromatherapy for anxiety and tension relief

Aromatherapy is a therapeutic alternative medicine method for individuals experiencing stress and anxiety, anxiety, fatigue, and pain monitoring, according to an organized testimonial in the Asian Pacific Journal of Tropical Biomedicine. Other research likewise shows it could improve rest as well as minimize pain. Some smaller studies show that aromatherapy could enhance the lifestyle for individuals with mental deterioration. One research study especially discovered that rose water may visibly decrease stress and anxiety. And also, integrating massage therapy with crucial oils is recognized for being relaxing. Next, take a look at these 26 home remedies that really work.

The article “ 7 Alternative Medicine Treatments Doctors Actually Recommend “ was published first on The Healthy

Dr. Amauri Caversan Wellness Centre is a wellness clinic located at the heart of Yorkville, Toronto. For details on naturopathic services offered, click here: https://dramaurinaturopath.com/