#I ended up getting the test done with a different doctor and they found significant results from it

[poyitjdr]

Fr I’m convinced ‘anxiety’ is the new hysteria. I’m a trans guy (pre-transition) and these are all things that I was told were ‘just anxiety’:

-legs suddenly becoming extremely weak to the point I couldn’t walk, let alone stand

-horrible chest pain

-extreme dizzy spells/constant vertigo

-new and profound memory issues/disorientation

-uncontrollable tremors

-additional chronic pain

-uncontrollable weight loss

-etc

It took nearly two years for them to start taking me seriously. In that time, I ended up needing a cane to walk and I can still only be on my feet for 20 min at the max on a *good day* (with my cane). I lost so much weight that I became too light to trigger the sensors on the scooters at Target and Walmart. My symptoms got exponentially worse in every way. It took all of that for my last pcp to take me seriously. I was sent for an MRI and it turns out I have lesions in my brain and a birth defect where my skull meets my spine, amongst other findings!

Trust what your body tells you and advocate for yourself. Check the after visit summaries. Don’t give up until you get the care you need. Find at least one person who believes you and can offer emotional support. Don’t let people tell you that you’re going crazy or being dramatic or being lazy or that it’s ’just anxiety’ when you *know* it isn’t. You will find the help you need eventually. It shouldn’t take this much work and it’s absolute bullshit that it does, but your health is worth the effort.

I love the American healthcare system. I got to urgent care barely able to think and walk just for them to tell me “oh yeah sometimes people can’t walk and think, you crazy women.” and then I’m charged $255 for a 5min visit

[stillness-in-green]

You know, after 314 I’m glad that Dabi only let Hawks in after the League took over the MLA, because now I’m very certain that they (minus maybe Tomura) would have... unceremoniously vanished had the Commission had any say in the matter, whether by Hawks’ hand or a different agent. Especially with their direct connection to AfO.

My first instinct upon reading this was HARD SAME, anon, but on reflection, I actually think the League would have done okay, at least for a while. The thing is, the HPSC wasn't just looking for an in with the League; they--and Hawks in working for them--were looking for an in on the Noumu. And post-Kamino, post-Kurogiri, the League had no more access to those than a random schmuck on the street.

I suppose there's the possibility that the League not having a way to get Hawks to the Noumu's mysterious creator would have meant that he and his handlers would have decided it was better to end their threat and keep looking for the mysterious "Doctor" Shigaraki was hunting for independently, but I don't think they would have gone for it. The League wasn't actually doing a lot of harm on the Societal level at that point, you know? Oh, certainly, they were dangerous, and they were doing not unappreciable damage to Hero Society's image just by running around free and unaccountable for their crimes, but the concrete harm they were doing was to yakuza, to hate groups, to street thugs--not people whose lives the HPSC would put a lot of stock in.

The HPSC explicitly instructs Hawks that he is to turn a blind eye to people getting hurt over the course of his infiltration, because doing so serves the long game. That being the case, and with the League mostly scrabbling around trying to get their feet under them until Deika, I have to imagine Hawks would have kept playing along with the League until they found the Doctor or one of his bosses turned up a better lead.

Beneath the cut, for a few other considerations:

If the League had accepted Hawks as a member pre-Machia, would he have been transported to Ujiko's lab alongside them? That could have presented a serious danger, but I'm skeptical that Hawks would have tried to e.g. kill everyone in the room, given how wildly outnumbered and surrounded in a shitload of Noumu he would have been. Also too, Hawks being a Top Ten Hero inclines me to think that the paranoid Ujiko wouldn't have brought him to the lab to begin with; he'd have just left him with Machia, since Machia clearly doesn't pose a realistic threat to Hawks once he's airborne.

Would Hawks' presence on the team have enabled them to defeat Machia before the MLA made contact? It's possible, and that would likewise have put the League in significant danger, as they would have been in far closer contact with Ujiko if they'd just beaten his test and not had a mansion to crash in afterward. We know, though, that Hawks is only so-so against big tank-type crushers like the High End, and while Machia doesn't have the High End's regeneration, his stony hide is considerably more impervious to begin with, especially since he seems to sleep underground. With Ujiko's support riding on it, I don't think Shigaraki would have let Hawks take that battle out of his hands (e.g. by arranging some kind of hero tip-off), so while Hawks obviously could have contributed to the "nickel and dime Gigantomachia to death" plan, I don't know if he would have tipped the scales soon enough to stop Deika. Though who knows what the MLA might have done differently, if they realized the League had Hawks on their side.)

If Hawks had been let in, might he have taken the opportunity to stage some "accidents" to pick off members who he knew couldn't help him get to Ujiko, and who were being a major threat otherwise? That's a possibility, certainly, but it runs a considerable risk of being noticed or blamed. Shigaraki isn't stupid; if he started losing people to weird accidents or lucky hits from the people the League was tangling with coincidentally only ever when Hawks was around, the obvious person to blame is right there. And maybe Hawks could orchestrate deaths such that no reasonable person could trace it back to him, but that's banking a lot of faith on the League of Villains being a) unobservant and b) reasonable, and I don't know if I think Hawks would run that risk.

So yeah, I understand the impulse to fear for the League if Hawks had gotten in with them sooner, but thanks to that whole thing where everyone in this manga underestimates Shigaraki all the time constantly, I think he and the League would probably have been safe enough, at least until the point when it didn't matter anymore. At best, Hawks would have found out sooner where the hospital was, so Shigaraki's percentage of surgery completion would have been lower. That's not nothing, but it's not "Hawks kills everyone in the League in their sleep," either!

Thanks for the ask, anon!

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Behind the Door.”

Stay for the ending of this one guys :) Very exciting :) 

Here they were with bags over their heads again. This happened a lot, to the point where Sunny found that neither of them seemed to care much. They had been traveling since the early hours of the morning having met their targets outside the airfield. Of course, the two Tesraki had insisted that the fake couple wear something over their heads, so they would not know where they were going. The commander had been fine with that considering he had a tracking implant welded to his ribs courtesy of the good doctor:, a tracking beacon that would send off an emergency alert if he was knocked out or in significant distress.

It certainly wouldn't have gone off that morning as, yawning the two of them stumbled up the ramp and onto some sort of transport. They weren’t tied up or anything, but made to sit in a set of relatively comfortable seats. The commander ended up falling asleep against Sunny’s shoulder as the roaring of the engines added a slight ambiance and gentle rocking motion to the shuttle. Of course Sunny let him rest there, humans needed their sleep, and she would alert him if anything changed.

Absently, she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb where she held it resting on her lap. It was going to be interesting when this was all over. For the past few days they had been in perpetual constant contact, awake, sleeping, eating, planning. It was to the point at which it was almost normal.

Off to her side the commander pressed closer in his sleep head resting even more heavily on her shoulder. She put an arm around him to keep him from falling over and waking up. The bag on her head smelled a little funny, but she supposed that was the least of their worries. It had not crossed her mind that they might have been found out and were being taken to execution. It’s not like the two of them were very good at undercover work. They hadn’t bothered to change their names for instance, not that it would have entirely mattered. 

There were so many humans named Adam and so many Drev named Sunny that changing their names would be almost pointless as well. Either way someone was about to get arrested, either for attempted kidnapping and murder, or for genetic tampering.

The ride too longer than Sunny would have liked, and she couldn’t tell which way they were going, or even if they had gone out of atmosphere.

At her side the commander stirred, maybe an hour or two into their trip lifting his head up though he couldn’t see anything due to the bag, “Any idea where we are?” He murmured.

“No clue.” Sunny whispered back.

“Still on noctropolis I see.” He muttered 

“How can you tell.”

“The rumbling feeling. It’s the engines fighting against the atmosphere. It would have been a lot smoother if we were in space, plus this is how noctopolis always feels when we fly. Seems Like we are heading north too.”

“How can you possibly tell that.”

“From where we were there is a specific wind pattern that takes us north, and it generally feels like this.”

“For all I know you could be just making that up.” 

“I might be, but you would never know the difference.” He rested his head back down on her shoulder listening to the rumble of the shuttle engine and feeling the vibrations under his feet, “Automatic pilot.” 

“Don’t tell me, you can feel a disturbance in the force.” He snorted, “No, but a ride this smooth is characteristic of an automatic pilot.”

“Than why use pilots?” She was mostly goading him

“Because Automatic pilots are for smooth civilian transport and not for cool badass aerial stunts.”

“Mmm, sure.” The two of them rocked forward a little as the shuttle decelerated and then began it’s descent. Voices came to them from the back of the craft, and two sets of footsteps approached.

“We are almost to our destination. Prepare yourselves it is a little cold.”

The two of them nodded, and after a moment the shuttle landed with a sharp bump against the ground, and they were helped to their feet. Sunny kept tight hold of the commander’s hand, not trusting them to not get separated.the commander seemed to be just fine with that and together they were walked to the end of the shuttle.

There was a slight whirring as the doors opened up, and both of them were hit in the face with a blast of cold air. The commander inhaled sharply and Sunny grunted with discomfort as a powerful blast of wind. She put a hand over the holes at her neck trying to keep them from cracking and drying up in the harsh air.

The wind whistled and the cold grew more piercing. The commander began to cough as sharp needles of cold bit into his throat. For a moment, sunny was convinced that the two of them were going to be kicked out of the shuttle into the freezing cold blast of wind where they would eventually freeze and die while the Tesraki flew away laughing at their stupidity for being so obvious.

However, that thought was dashed as the shuttle doors opened, and they stepped out and downwards boots thudding over the metal  ramp. Voices and engines roared around them as even harsher wind whipped past their faces.

Something rumbled over the metal ground just to their side, and Sunny thought she felt a few wisps of snow brush against her skin. She was so…. Very...very cold.

Inside her heartbeat sped up desperate to pump warm blood through her body.

At her arm, the commander was already shivering Uncontrollably.

She pulled the human closer partially to warm him up and partially because she hoped that he might be warmer than her, “You ok?’ she whispered.

“You’re asking me if I’m ok… not to, bring light to a situation sunny, but your naked, at least I have a jacket, which I would totally offer to you if you were smaller or I were taller.”

That made her laugh, but luckily for them they ad stepped inside some building by that point and the wind was cut off.

They could still hear voices, the thudding of feet on metal and the running of machines all around them. There was a sharp metallic hiss, and they were led inside with a sigh o relief as warm air washed over them.

The bags were drawn from their heads, and they found themselves in a nice little waiting room with a reception desk at one end and chairs with magazine lying around on low-lying coffee tables, “You two take a seat, we will be right back.”

They did as told surprised to find themselves sitting across from another couple, this one also Human/Drev, except in their arms they held a very small bundle. Commander Vir craned his neck to see, and noticing the two of them, the human female holding the bundle rotated it so he could see, smiling.

The tiny face was of a human baby, or so it seemed, though it’s hair was shockingly pearl white.

Both of their eyes widened.

“IS that….” He trialed off 

The human nodded smiling, “Our baby, yes! We just came in for a one-week checkup to make sure the DNA splicing went well.

The commander stood up, “You mind if I…. Get a closer look?”

“No not at all.” The Drev responded motioning the two of them over.

They came and sat down close by looking down at the sleeping baby. One of its arms had been brought up to the chin, and there they could see how the skin glittered sort of white in the light above.

“Wow…. pretty. What’s their name?”

“We named him Daklan.”

The commander and Sunny exchanged looks of surprise, “Amazing … that’s the translation isn’t it.”

She smiled, “You speak Drev?”

He cleared his throat, and took Sunny’s hand, “Of course I do.” 

“Are you two here for a consult.” 

Sunny pulled him closer, “Yes we…Well we admit we were a little  skeptical.” She looked down at the baby, “But now.”

A door opened on the other side of the room a door opened, and the two Tesraki stepped in, “Why don’t you two come on and follow us.” They paused waving goodbye to the other couple and then stepping into the room behind the Tesraki.

“Admiring one of our success stories I see.”

“Yes…. are there not success stories?”

There was a sigh, “Afraid not, in the early years of developing this technique we had some pitfalls. There were a lot of children who came out deformed or with strange medical conditions. It turns out that genetic testing is best done beforehand to see what sort of underlying conditions the parents have since they can manifest in very strange ways when paired with other species.” 

They were walked into a nearby office and sat down.

“Hold out your arms.”

They did as instructed wincing as the needles pierced into their skin.

“We can harvest from any piece of genetic material we want and splice them together by pulling the DNA string from the nucleus. IT took a lot of hard work, but we have automated the process that checks the sequencing for abnormalities even as it runs probabilities on each genetic combination. Let us demonstrate.”

He passed the genetic codes into the machine and let them spin around for a while as the monitor worked.

About ten minutes later, they had results.

“Ah, see here.” he glanced at Sunny, “Your genes are almost perfect, until we get to the combination that contributes to height.”

She sighed, “Of course.”

“IF we were to pair that with human DNA we would probably et a creature that is no more than three to four feet tall, not dwarfism, just a very, very small human Drev hybrid. So what we would do in this case, is we would pull the height genes from the father instead.” They turned to Adam, “You are carrying a recessive allele on the TYR gene that can lead to certain types of albinism in humans.”

HE blinked in surprise, “I am?”

“Yes, now this is not normally an issue unless your partner has the same matching recessive trait. However, if you pair this particular gene with a Drev gene, you can get some pretty unfortunate consequences. This will make the Drev child completely blind where it only causes visual issues in humans, not to mention bu it will make the Drev child extremely susceptible to UV light based of how Drev coloring and carapace tends to interact. So what we dofrom here is we take the healthy genes from both parents and splice them together and then our software creates a realistic rendering of what the offspring would look like so you can more effectively choose, however that option does cost more.” 

He turned to the monitor, “You have four options male/female and humanoid or Drev like.”

Four images flashed onto the screen, and sunny was surprised at the tiny human with golden hair and skin. She recognized that gold color, she also recognized the starry purple color on the little Drev girl.

Her parents colors.

“So, what do you think.”

“I…. wow…. This is a lot to take in.” Adam Squeezed Sunny’s hand, “I don’t know if this is too much to ask, but might we be able to see the process before we make our decision.”

“Of course, right this way.” The two of them stood leading the couple out and back into the hallway. The commander leaned close and Sunny dropped her head in to listen, “Well at least we know if we ever had children they would all look like anime protagonists.”

She snorted as they continued their way down the hall.

A door at the far end opened, and they were pulled into a small viewing room overlooking a massive factory sized floor.

They looked around with wide eyes.

It looked a lot like the prodigum factory with rows upon rows of test tubes set up to contain growing fetuses of all shapes and colors. Some of them were almost done while others were only in the early stages of development. A good portion of the factory was mostly dark except for red light, “Can we get a closer look?”  The commander wondered 

“Yes, I suppose we can go down onto the floor.”

The commander gave Sunny a look and she nodded. They walked along the floor staring at the tanks and the tiny creatures growing inside them.

“What’s behind that door?” 

“Simply equipment, nothing important.”

He squeezed Sunny’s hand, and she stepped in front of him as they passed by another tank. She felt his hand drop from hers as he slipped behind a row of tables ducking into the darkness where only the red light glowed. She pretended to be mesmerized by the tubes even though they were absolutely disgusting.in her opinion.

Behind her, commander Vir ducked through the darkness pressing himself up against tables and machines trying to stay out of the glowing red lights.  He made it across the room silently and paused by the closed door. Glancing over his shoulder to check and make sure no one was there, he backed through the door and into the next room with only the barest of noises. When The door shut he turned around,

What he saw made him freeze in place.

His mouth dropped open and his chest tightened with intense horrific anger.

The Adaptid’s bodies hung from hooks in the ceiling as their genetic tissue was harvested. Soft moaning came from cages all around him, and he turned in a wide circle pausing when his eyes over the cages.

His heart hammered in his chest, and he thought he was going to be sick. The anger intensified as his eyes fell on the last figure in the line of cages. His hands grew cold and his entire body began to tingle. His vision tunneled.

He raced across the room straight to the cage wrapping his hands around the bars, “Vicky!”

The hybrid-human adaptid turned her large dog-like head to face him. He found himself staring into soft gray eyes., “Vicky.” He whispered through a strangled throat.

The adaptid mewled piteously sniffing at him ears perking up when she recognized his scent. She pressed up against the bars, and he reached through running a hand along the soft skin of her neck. She mewed again, “Shhh, shh its alright, I’m here now, and I’m going to get you out, I promise.”

His hands were shaking against the bars as he concealed barely unbridled rage. 

He understood now, understood how their process was working where the prodigum’s did not.

And with that realization came the desire to do nothing more than annihilate this entire facility and every mewling coward inside. 

[gloochie]

here’s a fuckin rant about how in love i am with sunny’s portrayal of realistic anorexia // ed tw obviously

doesn’t take up the character’s entire personality

yeah there’s tons of shows with characters that have eating disorders, but usually that is the only purpose of the character, so their entire personality is just the eating disorder. yes that is how it can feel for the individual in real life, that they are nothing without their eating disorder, but that isn’t how other people see them. their friends see a regular person and often don’t even see the eating disorder at all.

dennis is orthorexic and anorexic, that’s obvious, but that isn’t all that either the other characters or the audience see. as he’s primarily known as a ‘psychopathic narcissistic serial killer / golden god’, especially by ‘dudebros’. the other characters obviously think this as well, as the word ‘eating disorder’ and ‘dennis’ have yet to coexist in a sentence, and only on one or maybe two occasions have the other characters seemed to show any sort of concern for his habits.

the other characters don’t care or lack knowledge [ highlighting male eating disorder / mental illness awareness ]

from memory there are three occasions where the other characters seem to recognise his unhealthy behaviour. [ although there are many references to his ed in various other episodes ]

the first example is in ‘the gang exploits a miracle’ which is also the first and most major portrayal of his eating disorder in the show. dee had told him that his face looked fat, so he proceeded to not eat for three days. when frank discovered he was fasting, he said ‘why the hell are you fasting’ and sounded annoyed. and when he noticed him spacing out, he told him that he should eat but said nothing else. then when dennis faints at the end , he merely says ‘that’s what you get for not eating’. so the entire time, frank found his behaviour irritating rather than worrying. when dee discovers that she caused dennis to fast for three days, she expresses faux concern before informing him that he’s a terrible person. despite finally revealing to him that his face doesn’t look fat, she doesn’t hesitate to continue to put him down. [ mac and charlie seem to have absolutely no significant interaction with him in this episode, so their opinions at this point don’t exist ]

the next episode is ‘franks pretty woman’ dennis takes mac to the doctor to get a physical / blood test to try and show him that he’s unhealthy. dennis is then shocked to discover that both of them are unhealthy - albeit on different sides of the scale -, as it is revealed that dennis has anemia, dehydration, low blood pressure, and multiple vitamin deficiencies. these are all side affects from a restrictive diet. he also explains to mac in detail the other steps he takes, including skipping meals, and excessively exercising. mac does not seem too phased besides from exclaiming ‘that’s sounds miserable’. when dennis almost faints and informs mac he hadn’t eaten yet that day, mac reacts by saying he’s going to get him something to eat, which he does. the two end up eating chimichangas. mac says [ paraphrasing ] ‘see? i told you they’re good.’

the final time dennis’ eating habits are really noticed by the gang is in ‘the gang chokes’ in which he claims to have an ‘allergy’ to gluten, sugar, and dairy. this is obviously false as in previous episodes he’s eaten cheese, pizza, and other such things. despite mac forgetting, he tries to help dennis stick to his ‘dietary requirements’. later on in the episode, dennis claims to have ‘depleted his electrolytes’ and had fallen ill due to the pollen in the air, although he was acting similar to ‘exploits a miracle’ which may point to him fasting. mac is quick to help, he picks him up and carries him bridal style all the way home [ despite dropping him twice ]. finally, dennis grows sick from drinking the pizza and soda shakes that mac has been giving him, and mac claims it ‘wrecks havoc on his system’ which is why he’s sick, although the real reason is rarther ambiguous [ actually intolerance, mild refeeding syndrome, generally unwell? ]

dennis does not look anorexic.

this is possibly my favourite part of their portrayal. in movies and tv that are made to raise awareness about anorexia, the character in question is almost always deathly pale, extremely underweight. however, dennis isn’t like that at all. in seasons 9 and 10 he looks to be a very healthy weight, and in previous seasons he was still relatively healthy.

this is amazing to see because not all cases of anorexia are anorexia nervosa, not all patients meet the weight requirement for the nervosa diagnoses. so portraying someone with disordered eating but a non disordered body is great representation and often more realistic.

[ despite this, there’s obvious proof that glenn howerton has begun slimming down for his role as of at least season 14, dennis is starting to physically show signs of anorexia. ]

fatphobia projection

dennis is extremely fatphobic. in ‘aluminium monster vs fatty magoo’ he calls the slim models ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’, to the point where he takes their place [ while wearing a corset ]. he is also shown to find mac disgusting when he gains weight, he finds it so distressing that he obtains illegal medication and drugs mac so he will lose weight.

this is all a very common thing with anorexia and other restrictive eating disorders, the ‘ed voice’ that tells you that you’re fat says that others are fat as well, and your illness makes you internally fatphobic.

he isn’t just insecure about his weight.

there are many different reasons that one gets an eating disorder, whether due to trauma, preexisting mental illness, from stress, parental abuse etc. however one main reason is to gain a feeling of ‘control’ over ones body, to be able to shape it to your will and make it as ‘perfect’ as you can.

in dennis’ case, he claims to see himself as a ‘golden god’, sculpted by the gods, and just all round flawless. this is extremely obviously false, as the second a flaw is pointed out to him he takes extreme measures to rectify such a thing:

‘the gang exploits a miracle’ - he starves himself for three days after dee says his face is fat

‘how mac got fat’ - he dyes his hair and gets a chemical peel after feeling pressured to keep up his ‘reputation’ as the attractive one in the group

‘the high school reunion’ - he wishes to make a good impression at the reunion, and it’s pointed out that he was wearing a girdle to ‘seem thin for the occasion’, he was also wearing makeup but it’s not clear exactly when dennis started wearing makeup on a daily basis so i’m unsure if that was normal or not.

‘dee day’ - he’s extremely insecure and withdrawn without his makeup, he’s unable to hit on the council woman. when he later returns to the bar with his makeup back on, he denies wearing any and claims he was merely tired. this insinuates he wants the gang to believe his looks are natural and not fabricated

there’s also the fact that they’re representing male eating disorders! i don’t think i’ve ever seen a piece of mainstream media that portrays a male with an eating disorder. it’s fucking amazing of them to do it, not to mention do it as well as they have done.

in conclusion, RCG is portraying the most realistic and accurate disordered person i’ve ever seen in media.

[overthefjords]

I Do (Finally)

The proposal I wrote out months ago and forgot to post here >:3c

June 2008.

Aleks had been watching the storting like a hawk for the past few months. A gender-neutral marriage bill was being passed around between the members, and they were considering having it put into effect in the new year should it pass. Sure, there were already protections in place in Norway for same-sex partnerships, but… Marriage was something different. Something Mathias and himself had been longing after for literal centuries.

It was one thing to say this is my partner, my significant other, my love. But it was something else to have the proof in the eyes of the law, in the world, that you were wed.

So, when Aleksander got the heads up that the storting had passed the bill and it would be announced later in the week, he started concocting a plan.

He was going to propose to Mathias as the news was breaking. He was going to get all of their loved ones and go out to dinner altogether. A quick call to the other Nordics, the Low Countries, and their other friends was the first order of business, and then going about the restaurant reservations. KöD Oslo, one of the favorite places that the pair usually reserved for special occasions like anniversaries and birthdays.

The ring was plain and nothing fancy, but the runes engraved on the inside spoke louder than the platinum band would suggest. They were tiny, wrapped around the entirety of the inside of the band itself.

From the dawn of the realms until the end of time, you are my one love, unrivaled. No mortal man nor beast could take you from me.

It would be a lie to say that Aleksander had not had this planned out decades in advance, that he did not set down a deposit on Mathias' engagement ring during the 1950s as the Dane was recovering from his brush with death. They both had been waiting for this for literal centuries, and Aleksander would be damned if he wasn’t almost entirely prepared for this.

The last call he needed to make was to the jeweler, putting down the rest of the money on Mathias’ wedding band, paying the extra charges for it to be started on immediately.

Now, all he had to do was wait, and not say a thing to Mathias.

Such a feat was easier said than done, especially because the both of them had been waiting for this for almost forever, the chance to be fully married in the eyes of everyone; the law, their nations, the world. It was lucky that he was able to control himself when he saw his boyfriend every day for the next week, lucky that he didn’t just drop to one knee as soon as the neurosurgeon had stepped out of his car that evening.

But wait he did, and it was luck that the Norwegian had an endless supply of patience. If he was going to do this, he wanted it to be perfect.

The day was perfect and warm, the arrival of summer in Norway called for extraordinarily long and comfortable days in Oslo. Mathias had the window rolled down, his hand extended out from the car and waving through the air currents as they drove from the house into the city, the both of them dressed up for the occasion. As far as Mathias knew, there was no special occasion, just a get together with friends and loved ones at their favorite place

The ring box was inside of the pocket of Aleks' dress pants, the same pocket where he stowed his keys and wallet so as to not arouse suspicion for him carrying something in his pockets.

"Who all is supposed to be here, Aleks?" Mathias asked, fingers sliding between his partner’s as Aleks’ hand was resting on the center console.

"Mm," Aleks tapped his thumb against the steering wheel for a moment. "Bastian and Christiane, Ludwig, Sigfrid, Sigurd, Mikael, Gunnar, Timo, Emma, Willem, Gemma, Toni, Naia, Arthur, Francis, and I invited Alfred and Matthieu but I’m not sure if they’ll be here.” He said it as if inviting their overseas friends was no big deal, as if collecting so many of their friends at all was nothing more than a casual summer dinner. He failed to mention the Aussie and New Zealander that he’d invited as well, Kyle and Cae. That, surely, would throw up more red flags than inviting the North Americans.

“Quite a gathering,” Mathias replied, “Are we getting an entire section to ourselves, then?”

“It’ll most likely end up that way if they all seat us in one section, anyway.” Aleks did in fact reserve the dining room off of the garden, but that was his little secret. He had requested at least half of them to get there ahead of time, that way the rest would trickle in at a somewhat normal pace once Mathias and himself had arrived.

Aleks pulled the car into a spot outside of the restaurant, leaning over to exchange a small, sweet kiss with his partner before brushing a stray ball of lint from his shirt. “I think my brothers are already here.”

“I have no doubt,” Mathias replied with a slight chuckle, brushing his nose against Aleks’ as he leaned over the center console. “They are nothing if not exceedingly early to everything.”

“You’re telling me,” Aleks says with a laugh, sliding out of the car and rounding to the passenger’s side. “Mikael likes to show up at my office an hour before our meeting and then pester me until I’m ready.” Once Mathias was standing on the curb next to him, Aleks went ahead and locked the car, resting a hand on the small of the Dane’s back and walking with him into the restaurant.

Already waiting for them were the Nordics, of course, taking up one of the central circle tables in the dining room, leaving two seats side-by-side for Aleks and Mathias.

From there, the dining room began to fill with their friends, usually arriving in pairs and with bright, cheery smiles. The room swelled with chatter, a small gathering of nations joined together for only one thing, kept hidden from one Danish doctor.

The chatter gave way to dinner, which did nothing to hush the rabble in the room. They were surrounded by so much happiness, so much joy, and Aleks could not be more grateful that so many of their friends were able to make it, and could pack the dining room for this.

The volume in the room only fell to a hush when Aleks stood up, resting a hand on Mathias’ shoulder.

“I wanted to thank all of you for coming on such short notice,” He started, giving a small smile to the tables surrounding the one the Nordics were all sitting at. “I know I only gave you a week to get here, but the fact that you’ve come means the world to me. To us.” Aleks catches Mathias’ slightly confused expression out of the corner of his eye.

Good.

“The storting has signed into legislation a marriage bill,” Aleks continued, his voice even and careful. “That, come the first of January, will change the definition of marriage in Norway.”

This was it.

“That being said, I have a very important question to ask.” Aleks turned to Mathias, who was staring at the Norwegian with those wide icy blue eyes of his. He took Mathias’ left hand in his, smoothly dropping to one knee before the Dane with a navy blue ring box in the palm of his hand.

“Mathias Nikolas Anker, you have been my steadfast companion for nine hundred and fifteen years. You are unendingly kind, intelligent and I have had the absolute privilege to be the man that is allowed to love you. You have shown me and taught me more than I could ever in my entire life begin to thank you for. You took a blood-soaked and scarred young man and loved him until his edges were not so sharp, and until he learned how to love you in every way you deserve to be loved. We have tested one another, and have been tested in countless ways. There is no one else on this planet that I would rather see every sunrise and sunset with until the end of our time here on Earth. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Nestled in the navy velvet of the box was a gorgeous platinum band, the center of the band bearing a brushed look while the edges were kept reflective. And of course, the inside had the raised runes that Aleks had meticulously chosen.

There were barely a handful of heartbeats between Aleks’ question and Mathias flinging himself into the Norwegian’s chest, Mathias’ arms thrown around his shoulders while he pressed his face into Aleks’ neck. The Dane was sobbing, fingers curling into the short hairs at the back of Aleks’ head and clinging to him as if his life depended on it.

There were a slew of garbled questions interspersed among those heart-wrenching sobs, mostly asking if he was dreaming or if this was really happening. Aleks did his best to answer the questions, resting his head against Mathias’ and rubbing at his back, the ring box still sitting open in his other hand.

Aleks didn’t really need that yes; he took the hysterics as one.

“You’re alright,” Aleks murmured against Mathias’ temple, slowly standing up and letting the ring box snap shut so he could stow it in his pocket once again. Even as they stood, Mathias’ arms remained around Aleks, the Dane standing up on his tippy toes. “C’mon, let’s go outside,” Aleks suggested softly, guiding the inconsolable Dane out of the dining room and onto the patio.

Aleks, with his arms wrapped around Mathias, walked the both of them over to the raised garden planter that took up the center of the patio. He slowly sat down on the edge of it, Mathias sitting in his lap automatically. He didn’t want to be apart from Aleks, even in the slightest at the moment.

With Mathias still roughly sobbing against the Norwegian’s neck, Aleks rubbed slow circles into the Dane’s back. “I found out about a week ago that they were passing it,” he said quietly, head resting atop Matti’s. “It’s been officially signed by Harald as of noon. The official announcement comes tonight. I wanted to ask you the afternoon I found out, but I needed time to get your ring finished and everyone here.”

“Aleksander,” Mathias cried, gripping the Norseman tighter and making Aleks laugh softly as he continued to rub at the Dane’s back. “We can get married…”

“Mathias,” Aleks echoed, rocking his sweetheart slowly and kissing the top of his head. “We can, but only if you say yes.”

Mathias sniffled, lifting his head to look at Aleks and butting their foreheads together. “I haven’t wanted anything more. For as long as I’ve loved you. So yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

Aleks lifted his hands to Mathias’ face, wiping his tears away before kissing him for just a moment, a bright smile growing on his face. “We’re getting married.”

“Uh-huh,” Mathias mirrored that smile, thumbs rubbing against the side of Aleks’ face. “Can I see my ring?”

Aleks chuckled, stealing another little kiss before digging in his pocket and presenting the ring box once more. He popped the box open, pulling the ring from its confines and taking Mathias’ left hand in his own.

“No, let me look at it,” Mathias insisted softly, taking the gorgeous band from Aleks’ fingers, turning it over in his hands. It was beautiful, the afternoon summer sun catching the polished edges and diffusing from the brushed parts.

That is when the Dane caught sight of the raised runes on the inside, slowly rotating the ring as he read them. What was written there choked him up, looking up at his fiancé with a watery smile. He was getting all choked up again, letting Aleks slide the ring onto his finger before throwing his arms back around the Norwegian and tucking his damp, splotchy face against his neck once again. “I love it,” He warbled, hiccuping through another bout of sobs.”I love you…”

Aleks lost track of time from there, merely continuing to rock his sobbing husband-to-be, letting him cry against his shoulder and his neck. There was nowhere he’d rather be right now, even with a dining room full of their friends and family.

That early evening dinner service bled into warm twilight, and their friends and family slowly joined the pair in the garden, wine glasses and dessert plates in hand. Taking in the pair sitting together, all smiles and gentle affectionate touches, they all knew that of course Mathias had said yes.

“When’s the wedding?” Christiane asked with laughter, passing a glass of dark liquor to the Dane, who took it gratefully with his left hand, now bearing that lovely silvery band. The wedding would not be for a good while. They’d waited so long for this chance, the ceremony would be perfectly intimate, and the reception full to bursting with life. Just as Mathias would want it.

Seasons passed between that teary-eyed proposal and the warm spring day of their ceremony, the new greenery of the trees glistening with dew from the night before. They were witnessing two births on this day, one of the land in spring and one of two lives being officially joined as one after deserving of such a gift for so long.

Of course, things would go smoothly for all who witness it. The same could perhaps not be said for the grooms in question. Anxiety came easily to the Dane, who was pacing his hotel room with shaky hands and a pale face despite all of the efforts from his groomsmen to help him relax. He was naturally high-strung and high energy, and with nothing to focus on besides getting ready, his head was running away with itself.

That was what Aleksander was told when Bastian came to get him, the Norwegian busy fitting his cufflinks into his button-down.

“He won’t settle down.” The Belgian looked rightfully concerned, standing in the doorway, half-dressed with concern etched on his young features. “I’d say I’m surprised, but I���m not,” Aleks said with the barest of knowing smiles. His own groomsmen, his brothers, were all getting ready in their own rooms. There was no need for him to lord over them right now. He had a sinking feeling that he’d have bigger things to help with than fixing Mikael’s tie. “Send him over here, Bastian, if you would.”

With a sharp nod, the young man left the room, leaving Aleks alone with his dress uniform spread out on the end of the bed. He knew Mathias hated the bowties that came with the Naval outfits, but he had wanted them both dressed in them for the occasion. It’ll just give Aleks all the opportunities to fix them when they get crooked and steal little kisses in the process.

“It’s bad luck for you to see me before the wedding,” Came the quietest voice from the doorway a few minutes later, a familiar hand wrapped around the doorframe.

Aleks cast a soft glance in Mathias’ direction, moving to rest a hand over the Dane’s where it gripped the door. “My love, I don’t know if that applies here.” He says this tenderly, twisting his fingers through his husband-to-be’s and coaxing Mathias in from the hallway. “You’re not exactly a bride, and neither am I. That’s the entire point.”

Aleksander’s words make his partner laugh, though it's weak and uneasy as Mathias is brought into the room, the door shutting with a soft click behind him. There was nothing here that they had not seen before; dress uniforms were standard, and they’d seen each other in a plethora of other states than half-dressed. And yet, the anxiety did not listen to reason.

As soon as that door was closed, Mathias was in the Norseman’s arms, head tucked against his chest. This was his safe place, Aleks knew this, and the Norwegian wrapped his arms snugly around his love.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Matti?” Aleks murmured after a few minutes of silence, the quiet hum of a fan in the background the only noise besides their breathing.

“I’m scared.” It was a lot for Mathias to admit this, and Aleksander knew this. His love was the one to put on big, happy faces to cover up his concerns, to push it away to deal with later, so the plain admission spoke to the depth of his fears.

Though, Aleksander could not fathom why the Dane was so afraid. They’d already done all of the really hard things that couples do, and even more so because of who they are. The taller of the pair was going to ask why when Mathias just supplied the answer outright. “It’s…” He takes a shaky breath, turning to put his cheek against his love’s chest and lifting cerulean eyes to meet navy. “Scary to show just how deeply I love you. It's just been for us for so long. Showing how deep everything for us goes is terrifying.”

Aleks gets it, he does. They had to hide their love for literal ages. It makes sense to be apprehensive about putting all of that on display, though it's not ever been a secret. “Making it official is a lot.” An affirmative hum from the Dane was followed with a soft huff. “We should’ve eloped.”

“There’s still time. I can book us a flight to wherever.”

“No. I'm tired of hiding us. You know how I am.” Mathias finally leans back a bit from Aleksander’s embrace, chin tipped up to gaze up at the man he loved.

Making an affirmative noise in the back of his throat, Aleks just smiles at his beloved. His hands lift to cradle Mathias’ face, gently butting their foreheads together. “Just so you know, I have been proud to love you for every single moment of all nine hundred and sixteen years, and I am just as proud today as I was our very first night together.”

Aleks watched tears flood Mathias’ eyes, and brought his sweetheart into his arms once again, feeling the doctor’s fingers curl into the back of his shirt. “I know you’re very private about your feelings, but no one can take us from one another. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

Those sniffles devolved into little sobs, with Mathias’ arms slung around his partner’s neck in an attempt to get as close as humanly possible to Aleksander, who merely lifted Mathias off of his feet and held him in his arms.

Lucky for Mathias, Aleksander was always prepared. A quick wardrobe change later and the pair were just lounging on the bed, Mathias in one of the Norwegian’s sweaters and a pair of the Dane’s own joggers. They had hours until the ceremony, and Mathias was dozing off in Aleksander’s arms, far calmer than when he’d arrived.

“Wake me up a half-hour before?” He’d groggily murmured against Aleksander’s tear-stained shoulder. Thankfully, he’d also brought backup suits for the both of them. Aleks didn’t think their dress shirts would survive an impromptu nap. “I still need to look handsome for our ceremony.”

“Of course, kjærlighet.” Aleks would not argue that Mathias never looked anything less than, even when the Dane was exhausted out of his mind from work and wearing those awful green scrubs.

He’d loved Mathias in sickness, in health, in life, in death, through good times and bad, and all of what those standard vows would say. He’d love Mathias to the ends of their existences, from the dawn of time until the end of the world.

[moonshroooms]

So like, here’s a part-angst-part-fluff Ponytail!Dib AU oneshot here ya go! I kinda imagined this lil scenario to be after but not-too-long after these Sad Idiots confessed their Undying Love to each other (I’m totally positive that’s the exact scenario reyna’s gonna take her au, trust me on this I’m a doctor).

Now the beginning of this is definitely more angst and Sad but it do get cuter at the end I promise VwV But anyways, here! *throws this on the ground and runs away*

=

Dib laid out all the ingredients on the counter, double checking he had everything the recipe called for. Flour, eggs, sugar, check, check, check. Getting everything without alerting Zim what he was up to had been more than a challenge but somehow he’d managed to get past the sneaky bug. All that was left to do was wait for Zim to be busy long enough to enact his plan.

“Alright, it’s a shortcake, how hard could it be?” He pulled up the recipe on his phone, mumbling to himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice taunted that he’d mess it up somehow. He mentally shoved it into a box and sealed the lid. It’s fine, he’d be fine. Just follow the instructions, he could do that.

With his best attempt at a determined nod Dib opened up the flour, pulling a large bowl out of the cupboard, giving a glance at the instructions.

“Mix strawberries with sugar and ffuh mhmm…” His sentence trailed off as his brain rewired itself to focus on the strawberries. “Alright, strawberries first, then.” He dumped the carton of berries in a little bowl of their own, scooping out a few spoonfuls of sugar and stirring. And put them in the fridge. Okay, step one done. See? Wasn’t so bad. A part of him felt kind of dump pep-talking himself, but he knew how much his self-deprecation bothered Zim, so he was trying to fight it. Most said step one was talking positively, even if you didn’t really believe it, so that’s what he was gonna do.

Dib pulled out the flour and measured it, pouring it in the mixing bowl once it was at the right level. Next was baking powder, baking soda, sugar, and heavy cream. Dib ran his eyes across the bottle of cream for not the first time. The store didn’t exactly have just “heavy cream.” “Heavy whipping cream,” it read. The names were pretty close and he was going to try and make whipped cream anyways. It was probably the same, right? He couldn’t find anything saying it was different (not that he found anything saying it was the same, either). Somewhere that voice trapped in the box whispered that he was already fucking up. He was probably fine. If it was the only one the store had it was probably the most common one anyways.

As he mixed the ingredients together Dib allowed his mind to wander. That cold winter in his car, being sick in his apartment, lunch after lunch of carefully crafted meals, all wrapped in hearts and flowers. He found himself thinking about those times a lot. A large part of him laughed, wondering how he was able to jump through so many hoops to explain why Zim would go through all that trouble, what nefarious plot they could possibly be apart of, when the answer was (quite literally) written in front of him. A larger part said he was stupid if he really thought this was real, that this wasn’t just some long con at his expense and the ball would drop soon enough.

It wasn’t surprising the lunches were on his mind now, anyways. It’s what spurred the baking adventure he was currently on. Zim tried so hard despite Dib’s bad attitude, his denial, even his blatant refusal to eat at times. He wanted to return the favor, at least a little bit.

Dib let out a sigh as the mixture was finally done, rolling his shoulder a bit. Somehow the mixing was surprisingly tiring. Sure, he could keep up with the plots of an alien invader with technology far more advanced than his own since he was 12, but mixing cake batter was the real test of strength. Repetitive motion, he supposed. He poured the mix into the baking pan and stuffed it in the oven. Oh, shit, he forgot to preheat it. Did anyone really even do that? Seemed like a waste of power, honestly. He set his phone timer for an extra 10 minutes than the recipe called for, hoping that’d make up for it.

Alright, all that was left to do was the whipped cream. He was breezing through this recipe! He could almost imagine the look on Zim’s face when he got back. Sure, Dib didn’t have fancy wrapping paper, and honestly, the cake would probably look like shit. But as long as it tasted fine that was the most important part, right?

Dib pulled a separate bowl from the upper cupboard, combined the whipped cream ingredients, and got to work on stirring. The recipe said to use a mixer but he didn’t exactly have one of those, so he was stuck using good ol’ elbow grease. He tried to make up for it by mixing faster but figured the speed wasn’t gonna be a huge factor in the outcome.

Or, so he thought, at least.

Five minutes of mixing later and the cream hadn’t taken on any kind of fluffy quality. Just the same white goop. It was supposed to get light and fluffy two minutes in. Did he forget something? He rechecked the recipe. Cream, sugar, vanilla, lemon zest. It was all in there. Was he just not going fast enough? Maybe the mixer was more crucial than he thought. He plopped himself on the ground and kicked his whisking up a notch. Another few minutes and the only significant change was that the goop was maybe a little thicker. That, and he definitely got a good portion of it all over his shirt. Great.

Alright, the recipe did stress the heavy cream needed to be chilled before mixing. Did he let it sit outside the fridge too long? He could leave it in the freezer for a bit, let the cold firm it up a little? He swallowed down the rising disgust at himself, he was such a fucking idiot, he didn’t even know how to fix his mistake. Yeah, that’d work. With a grunt he got to his feet-

SMACK.

“Shit, goddamn it!” Dib instantly recoiled, clutching at the back of his head where the open cupboard lovingly smacked into his skull. He slammed the door shut with bang, the loud sound satisfying his anger a little bit. Stomping over to the freezer he shoved aside the assortment of raw meats and frozen veggies (things Zim planned on cooking at some point), and stuffed the whipped cream in, slamming the door shut.

“It’s fine, you’re fine. Nothing’s ruined, it’ll be fine.” Wow you’re trying really hard to sell this, huh? Can’t even convince yourself to buy your own words without lying first.

Dib leaned against the kitchen counter, silently fuming at the throb on the back of his head. He could feel self-loathing spilling into his brain like a fog, seeping out from that mental lockbox he tried to shove it in. He shook his head and did his best to focus on the goal. Zim would be so happy Dib made him a present, he’d get to see that huge smile that had his heart squeezing funny, ruby eyes lighting up with appreciation. The idea soothed his mind a bit. He could get through a few hang-ups if he got to see that expression and…

Was something burning?

“Seriously?!” Dib yelled as he pushed away from the counter. He threw the oven open and grabbed the baking tin only to recoil back in pain as his hand came into contact with the hot metal. Dib cursed, shaking out his hand and grabbing the oven mitt staring him in the face. Sure, go ahead, just fucking break yourself while making your thank you gift. Nothing says “I appreciate you” like making him clean up your fucking mess.

The tin landed on the stove with a clatter as Dib quickly turned away to grab ice for his hand.

Only to be greeted with a freezer that had whipped cream spilled all over it. The half-empty mixing bowl clattered to the floor as the door swung open, a few splatters of not-quite-frozen whipped cream leaping to the floor as it did. No, it’s fine, it’s okay. They could always just buy whipped cream at the store. He was pretty sure Zim wasn’t allergic to normal whipped cream anyways. You can’t even put something in the fridge without fucking it up? Why are you even bothering?

Dib stuffed a few ice cubes into a plastic bag and clutched his fingers around it. With a grimace he turned off the phone timer that only decided to start ringing just now and looked over the cake. Honestly, it wasn’t even burned that much, they could just not eat the bottom. Geez, you’re really going for a record trying to screw up every stage of this project huh?

Was the cake… supposed to look like a biscuit? He tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth. Was it also supposed to taste bland as hell like a biscuit, too?

Despite the bag of ice pain stabbed through the skin of Dib’s hand anyways, only adding to the misery of his failed creation. Look, he couldn’t expect things to be perfect. It was his first time trying to bake something. Plenty of people probably messed things like this up. You couldn’t even make a damn cake. Honestly, why did you even bother trying? How many other things have you fucked up that were way easier than cooking and you couldn’t even do those right? What made you think you could get this right?

Dib slid to the floor, focusing on the quiet sting of his burned hand. He felt that urge to visit the nearby drugstore. He might’ve bought a bottle of something, too, were his wallet not thoroughly cleaned out from buying all the cake ingredients. Couldn’t get drunk if he wanted to.

And damn he wanted to right now.

Amber eyes glanced around the kitchen, taking in the few splatters of whipped cream on the floor, quickly melting into puddles now. He… could at least up the mess he made before Zim got back.

The frown on his face deepened.

Well, knowing you, you’ll probably find a way to fuck that up, too.

 =

 Zim slid the window to the apartment open, wasting no time scurrying in and ripping off his disguise. How Gir escaped view of his cameras long enough to floor half the base he’d never know. Computer wasn’t any help telling him what happened either. Zim suspected whatever started the whole “beach party” idea was both Gir and Computer’s idea.

Zim’s internal ranting didn’t have long to continue before his now-freed antenna picked up the scent of something burnt, as well as something sweet and almost… milky? Compound eyes were greeted with a less-than-clean kitchen, used and abandoned cooking utensils, and a few tiny puddles of something melted on the floor. Confusion buzzed around the Irken’s mind before worry crept up his throat when he realized he couldn’t see Dib in the small space around him.

Slow-creeping dread dropped like a rock in his gut as anxiety moved his limbs. “Dib?” Zim called, receiving no answer. As terrifying rooftop rescues were at least they were known. What was Zim supposed to do for this new situation? What was the protocol?

His panic didn’t last for long as he skidded past the kitchen and caught sight of his human’s familiar form. Relief quickly flooded over him and he ran to Dib’s side.

“Dib-beast, what happened, are you okay?”

Dib jumped a little, as if startled from sleep, and looked at Zim. “Oh, hey space boy, welcome back.”

Zim frowned. Dib had that… look in his eyes that he didn’t like. That faraway look he often had during drunken hazes, staring off into nothing like there was a storm brewing in his head with threats of nothing good.

The alien grabbed Dib’s face with both hands, turning him left and right to check for injuries, Dib scrunching his eyes as he did. Zim pursed his lips when he noticed the melting pack of ice in his human’s grip.

“Burned myself on the stove, no biggie.” Dib shrugged. Zim’s brow furrowed, giving Dib’s cheeks a squeeze before getting up to grab some first-aid things.

“So, were you going to tell me what happened here or do I have to check the cameras?” Zim plopped back down next to Dib, pulling the injured hand into his lap to treat it.

Dib snorted. “Ha, nice try, I already found ‘em all.”

“Mhm, yup, you certainly did. No use looking for more, they’re all gone.”

Zim couldn’t resist a grin at the glare and eyeroll he received. He didn’t know if Dib had actually found all his cameras yet, but no sense in letting the stinky know if there were actually more or not.

“Sorry about the mess,” Dib mumbled. “I was gonna clean it up before you got back. I got kinda...” A sigh. “Distracted.”

Zim finished wrapping up Dib’s injury with a band-aid and glanced around the kitchen once more. It seemed to have been some sort of… baking attempt, from what he could gather. But why wait until he was gone to do it?

“You are forgiven… only if you tell Zim was all this-” he gestured to the mess “-was about.”

Zim watched his human’s expression as he started back at him, seeming to debate whether he wanted to elaborate or not. Finally, he looked away with a sigh and Zim thought he saw the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“I was uh, trying to bake.” Zim could only just barely understand Dib through his purposeful mumbling. “A cake. For, uh, for you. To say thanks, you know. For all the food you’re always making me.” As he spoke his cheeks got redder and he started scratching at the back of his neck, a habit Zim noticed he usually did when he was nervous. “As you can see it didn’t really work out that well.” Dib gave a laugh but it felt so hollow to Zim’s antenna. The kind of laugh you did when you were trying to assure others you were fine but couldn’t really put any effort in it.

As the Irken glanced around he could spot all the different bowls, measuring spoons, and other utensils his Dib used. He… tried really hard, didn’t he? And now he was on the floor, looking like the entire world was crashing down and it was his own fault. Sad and warm feelings both swirled around Zim’s gut, a confusing swirl of emotion he wasn’t sure how to process.

Zim placed his hand on Dib’s leg and leaned up to press his lips to Dib’s, much to the human’s surprise. Zim felt Dib stiffen only slightly before relaxing in his hold, reciprocating the kiss. Zim’s antenna instinctively wrapped themselves around the untied scythe of hair atop Dib’s head. Hmm, it was getting long. They’d need to cut it again soon.

Zim pulled back from the kiss only slightly, resting his forehead against Dib’s as he brought up a hand to stroke Dib’s cheek. “Thank you, Dib-beast.”

Despite the slightly flustered look Dib managed to pull himself together enough to furrow his brows. “For what? The cake’s not even good. Trust me, I tried it. All I managed to make is a huge mess.”

One of Zim’s antenna bent down to lightly bop Dib’s cheek. “For trying so hard to make something special for me. For going out of your way to make it a surprise. For telling me you appreciated the things I did.” Zim leaned forward to nuzzle against Dib. “Thank you for all of that.”

Dib let out a sigh and Zim felt arms wrap around his waist and hoist him into Dib’s lap. His human easily nuzzled into his shoulder and Zim did the same, feeling long legs bending up and resting against his PAK. They fell into their embrace so easily, like they were supposed to fit together. Zim was sure he’d be perfectly happy just sitting like this with Dib for the rest of time.

The two stayed like that for a long while, Dib’s lanky arms wrapped around Zim in a tight vice, Zim content to breathe in Dib’s presence. Eventually they were interrupted by a low grumbling centered at Dib’s stomach. Zim let out a snicker at the very graceful noise, earning him a slightly embarrassed “shut up” from Dib. Zim gave a smell peck on the lips to placate his human and rose to his feet, offering Dib a hand to help hoist him up.

“What do you say we try and make a cake some other time?” Zim offered. “Now that I know I’m owed a gift, of course.”

Dib looked down with a rueful smile. “Not worried I’ll mess it up?” He said with a slight scoff.

Zim’s brows furrowed as he rose up on his PAK legs to be at eye-level with his human. “Not at all because I know how smart you are. Besides,” Zim said, running a finger along a glob of wet goop and popping it in his mouth. Hm, slightly sweet. “You know baking is like, level 20 cooking, right?”

“Hah?”

“Yeah.” Zim reached into the fridge, looking for some leftovers for Dib, his eye spotting the tub of strawberries soaking in sugar. Oh, those looked good, they could probably use those tomorrow. “If you’re going to try something new you’re supposed to start at level 1, stinky. Most cooking you can just kind of eyeball how much seasoning you want for things. But baking is very exact a lot of the time. You humans took cooking and decided to make it as finicky as chemistry for no good reason.” He pulled a tub of spaghetti from the fridge and popped it in the microwave.

“With both of us tackling it we’ll make a cake that rivals anything some dookie-brained ‘top chef’ could make.” Zim plopped himself on a clean section of counter, antenna sticking up as he boasted for the both of them.

Dib scoffed with a laugh and pulled the spaghetti out of the microwave once it was done. He pulled a fork from the sink of yet-to-be-put-away dishes and leaned against the counter next to Zim. “If you say so, space boy.”

Zim’s antenna quickly accosted Dib’s hair as he neared, tangling and wrapping themselves into place, vibrating with a happiness that said they were exactly where they belonged. “I know so,” he replied matter-of-factly.

=

The two made the shortcake later that week, despite Dib’s quiet protests. Zim even stole obtained an electric mixer just for the whipped cream. Dib complained that Zim was making him do all the work (Zim’s repeated answer to that was “it’s a present for me, why should I have to do the work?”) Once it was all done though Dib had to admit, it didn’t look bad. Granted, it didn’t exactly look magazine-worthy, but it was presentable. Better yet, it actually tasted pretty damn good. Good enough that he had to fight Zim over the last piece.

For once, that voice inside his mental lockbox had nothing to say.

=

How in-character is this oneshot actually? It’s a mystery, who knows, certainly not me. It’s been sent out into the world how in character they are is no longer my problem that’s a y’all kinda issue now 💅🏽

Go! Take! A gander! At! @reynaruina ‘s Ponytail Dib! AU! If! You Like! To Cry! (Though things have been looking up in those little blurbs and comics reyna’s making so hopefully there will be less crying soon 🎉)

Fun fact: a huge chunk of Dib’s failure to make a strawberry shortcake from scratch was based on my own failed attempt. I still don’t know if there’s a difference between heavy cream and heavy whipping cream or if an electric mixer mattered. No, stuffing the whipped cream into the freezer didn’t help make it fluffy either. RIP my shortcake 2019-2019 🤘🏽😔

Double fun fact: Did you know apparently classic strawberry shortcakes are actually gross disgusting lumpy buscuit-ass lookin’ mutherfuckers and not fluffy sweet cake things? Whoever the hell thought purposefully bland cake was what strawberry shortcakes needed to be should be forced to step on legos forever. They also owe me 20 bucks cuz I thought I was making the sweet fluffy kind of cake and instead of forced to eat a flavorless biscuit with strawberries on it. EVIL.

[reasonandempathy]

Got into a conversation with a friend today about circumcision and she’s gotten a lot of the typical misinformation so I was wondering if you had some good basic reading on why circumcision is bad and comparable to fgm that I could pass on to her. Shes realised that she’s not as informed as she thought and want to read up but It’s been a long time since I read up on it so I’m rusty and I think I remember you having good resources on the subject.

Thank you.

Honestly, I’m rusty on it as well.  It’s so...

Caveats/Warnings:

Some of these sources may seem fairly biased by the naming, which is something worth critically analyzing, as with any source.  

This is a NSFW topic, and while I’ll be avoiding explicit pictures, it’s still worth keeping in mind

For the purposes of this conversation, I’ll be discussing infantile circumcision done for cultural/”normal” reasons without the newborn’s consent, as commonly understood.  

AMAB people and those who get circumcised as adults, or those who undergo the procedure for medical reasons, are of course related but it’s a different topic for those who can consent to the procedure.

It’s an ever-present and ever-important topic, but the focus on it has waned in the past few years.  But here are some good ones I’ve found:

The Sexual Impact of Circumcision - Doctors opposing circumcision

[1] Amputation of the prepuce (foreskin) by circumcision alters the anatomy of the penis from its natural design in a number of fundamental ways. Form and function go hand in hand in anatomy. Thus the alterations that circumcision causes in the natural mechanical and sensory capacities of the penis inevitably affect the sexual experience of both the man and his partners.

The foreskin is not just a “flap” of skin, but a double-layered fold of densely innervated skin and mucosa, of considerable area. Circumcision ablates what will become, in the adult, up to 90cm2 (~14in2) of tissue,[2] approximately half of the skin the penis.[3]

Loss of nerve endings – In the 1950s, Winkelman noted the dense innervation of the prepuce, and classified the prepuce as a “specific erogenous zone,” along with other mucocutaneous regions (such as the lips, nipples, and vulva), areas in which the anatomy is specifically organized to “favor acute sensation.”[15,16] In the 1980s, Moldwin and Valderrama documented “an extensive neuronal network within prepucial tissue.”[17] Taylor et al. (1996) documented dense concentrations of fine-touch-sensing Meissner’s corpuscles in a band of ridged mucosa encircling the preputial outlet, and identified the prepuce as a “a large and important platform” for input into the nervous system.[3] Sorrells et al. (2007), using micro-filament touch-testing on 19 points on the penises of intact versus circumcised men, found that the most fine-touch-sensitive regions of the penis are those removed by circumcision.[18]

It is incontestable that circumcision eliminates from a man’s sexual experience any sensation in the foreskin itself, as well as any sexual functions that involve the manipulation of the foreskin, such as during foreplay or masturbation. That such pleasurable activities might have significant subjective value to genitally intact men and their partners is also uncontroversial.[70] Therefore, according to one commentator, to say that circumcision has little or no effect on sexual experience is to adopt “an extremely narrow conception of that term.”[45]

Circumcision’s Psychological Damage

Over the last decade there has been a movement of men who were circumcised as infants and have articulated their anger and sadness over having their genitals modified without their consent.  Goldman (1999) notes that shame and denial is one major factor that limits the number of men who publicly express this belief.  Studies of men who were circumcised in infancy have found that some men experienced symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder, depression, anger, and intimacy problems that were directly associated with feelings about their circumcision (Boyle, 2002; Goldman, 1999; Hammond, 1999).

Research has demonstrated the hormone cortisol, which is associated with stress and pain, spikes during circumcision (Talbert et al., 1976; Gunnar et al., 1981).  Although some believe that babies “won’t remember” the pain, we now know that the body “remembers” as evidenced by studies which demonstrate that circumcised infants are more sensitive to pain later in life (Taddio et al., 1997).  Research carried out using neonatal animals as a proxy to study the effects of pain on infants’ psychological development have found distinct behavioral patterns characterized by increased anxiety, altered pain sensitivity, hyperactivity, and attention problems (Anand & Scalzo, 2000).  In another similar study, it was found that painful procedures in the neonatal period were associated with site-specific changes in the brain that have been found to be associated with mood disorders (Victoria et al., 2013).

The psychological consequences of medical procedures are even greater when they involve a child’s genitals.  Studies have examined the psychological effects of medical photography of the genitals (Money, 1987), repeated genital examinations (Money, 1987), colposcopy (Shopper, 1995), cystscopy and catheterization (Shopper, 1995), voiding cystourethrogram (Goodman et al., 1990), and hypospadias repair (INSA, 1994). The studies found that these procedures often produce symptoms which are very similar to those of childhood sexual abuse, including dissociation and the development of a negative body image.  The effects often persist into adulthood as evidenced by a study that examined the effects of childhood penile surgery for hypospadias.  Men who had this surgery in childhood experienced more depressive symptoms, anxiety, and interpersonal difficulties than men who did not have the surgery (Berg & Berg, 1983).

Removing healthy tissue in the absence of any medical need harms the patient and is a breach of medical providers’ ethical duty to the child.  We believe that all people have a right to bodily autonomy and self-determination and deeply respect this fundamental tenet of international human rights law (UNESCO 2005).  As children cannot advocate for themselves, they need adults to understand the complexities of their emotional experiences and provide them special protection.

Study: Circumcision Removes Most Sensitive Parts

Morris Sorrells of National Organization of Circumcision Information Resources Center and colleagues created a “penile sensitivity map” by measuring the sensitivity of 19 locations on the penises of 159 male volunteers. Of the participants, 91 were circumcised as infants and none had histories of penile or sexual dysfunction.

For circumcised penises, the most sensitive region was the circumcision scar on the underside of the penis, the researchers found. For uncircumcised penises, the areas most receptive to pressure were five regions normally removed during circumcision—all of which were more sensitive than the most sensitive part of the circumcised penis.

Circumcision is a procedure practiced in several countries for medical as well as cultural reasons. Most scientists agree that the surgery confers some protection against infection and the risk of contracting sexual diseases. Recent studies have also shown that circumcision can lower the risks of HIV infection by as much as 60 percent in sex between males and females.

But Robert Van Howe, a study team member at Michigan State University, thinks such claims are somewhat overblown. “The [health benefits] that have been consistently shown are very small, and there are less aggressive, less invasive, less expensive ways of dealing with the problems [circumcision] is supposed to address,” Van Howe told LiveScience.

Other practices, such as choosing sexual partners wisely and using condoms consistently, are far more effective in protecting against diseases, he added.

The necessary, required statement that circumcision in the US among gentiles is largely rooted in puritanical bullshit.  It’s worth noting he performed FGM as well.

Ultimately, it’s not a 1:1 in severity/quantity.  FGM and clitoral circumcision (in various forms) often enough, common enough to be reasonably made into a universal claim, ruins sex absolutely for a woman.  While it can be said to ruin sex for men, it’s hardly (in my experience and reading) to the same commonplace as FGM.

Which is a day late and a dollar short.  I’m not having any conversation about “X genital mutilation is worse than the other” and any who genuinely have those conversations in a manner that diminishes or dismisses the importance of either is a particular kind of disgusting.

It being not explicitly as life-shattering (which is still only a trend and not applicable to each individual) is in no way intended to be a defense of the practice.  It’s still rooted in anti-sex ideology and violates the rights of the newborn.  There is no adequate reason for universal circumcision.  Medical issues are a thing and may come up at an individual level, but the current practice as done in the United States is sheer regressive barbarism.

[chronicillschronicpills]

so hey, i just found ur blog and tbh im really looking for any advice i can get on dealing with chronic pain and fatigue? i dont mean to be a bother sorry! im just slipping into hopelessness with some people and even doctors not taking me seriously. i have done hours and hours of research and i think my symptoms may line up with sjogren's? it's just so hard for someone to look at my symptoms (even though they have been worsening since october 2019) since absolutely nothing shows up in my tests.

Hey!

This is not a bother at all. Also sorry if this is a late reply, my Tumblr never notifies me when I get messages so I have to manually check! 

So to start off with, I know exactly how you feel. I have been there. It is truly horrible and I am sorry you have to deal with this. There is a massive problem with doctors not taking young people, especially women, seriously when it comes to pain and fatigue. It’s always ‘stress’ or ‘depression’ or ‘in your head’ and it’s just really infuriating. It’s a terrible place to be in. 

I think this is a really important post. Its going to be LONG. 

I’m going to first address the issues with doctors not taking you seriously. 

It took me 7 years to get a diagnosis. This is NOT unusual. In fact, I’m almost positive that the average diagnosis time period for someone with lupus is 6 years. My first piece of advice is SELF ADVOCATE. This sounds easier than it is and it takes a lot of practice. I used to just burst into tears if I was trying to explain anything to a doctor. It is easier to self-advocate when you are calm and are clear about what you are going to say. To help with that, I suggest KEEPING A JOURNAL of your symptoms and have all your medical records in order. Make it in depth. Before an appointment, WRITE DOWN WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT. This way, you won’t forget anything. I like to reverse in my head how it is going to go. You really have to TAKE CONTROL of the appointment. You are allowed to demand certain things. I had to demand a referral to a rheumatologist when one of my shit GP’s refused to. He ended up giving me one, and on my first appointment with the rheumatologist, I was diagnosed and put on medication. It is important to DO RESEARCH but not too much. Don’t let the doctors know that you’ve done too much or they will think you’re a hypochondriac or something, maybe hurt their ego, who knows. You need to have a GOOD GP. If you don’t like your current GP, find a new one. Do research on good GP’s in your area. Ask your friends and family about theirs. Also, the best indicator for a doctor to know where you are at in my experience is saying MY QUALITY OF LIFE IS POOR. Describing your symptoms in-depth and how they affect your day to day functioning is important. Lastly, I always think you should BRING SOMEONE WITH YOU. Bring someone you trust, someone who knows about your condition. This is useful because they can back up what you say, they are there for support, and a doctor is less likely to treat you like shit with someone else present. You should also brief the person who is coming with you about what you would like them to do in the appointment. Do you want them to just stay quiet, or would you like them to sometimes talk or want them to take control of the appointment? 

My advice for chronic pain

Pain killers (it make seem obvious, but they really help). This is a touchy subject for a lot of people, as there are obvious problems with long term pain killer use, but they are great for PRN. There is a possibility a doctor will not prescribe you with them though. 

NSAID’s (Nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs) can be helpful for pain

Tricyclic antidepressants are used to treat chronic pain

Topical treatments; I use tiger balm patches. These are the ones I use: https://www.amazon.com/Tiger-Balm-Plaster-Warm-Patches/dp/B07Q6WN9ZM. They help tremendously for me. I sometimes used tiger balm cream. Other good ones are Icy Hot vanishing gel and bengay. 

Pillows: I used 12 pillows to sleep with. I know it a lot. But it works really well for me. Experiment with pillows; between your knees, under your arm, behind your back, under your hip, under your legs, etc. I literally sleep on a bed of pillows. 

Reduce stress. High stress= more pain

Join support groups; I am on several FaceBook pages that talk about the issues that I have. This blog on Tumblr has been incredibly helpful. It’s good to have people who understand what you’re going through. 

I cannot exercise, but some people find it useful (i never did) 

Some people find meditation helpful (i do not)

Massages help but obviously, that’s not always accessible, they are expensive etc. 

My advice for chronic fatigue

Medications; depending on your diagnosis, some medications can help with chronic fatigue. The medicine that helps with my chronic fatigue is Plaquenil which is often used to treat fatigue-related with Sjogren’s. There are other medications that can help with the quality of sleep such as benzodiazepines and tricyclic antidepressants. 

Do not do too much activity (that has helped me, but for others moving and doing exercise and movement can help) 

Have a routine 

If you study, make sure you tell all your teachers and lecturers beforehand that you have a health issue that may impair your ability to come to class all the time or hand in assignments on time. In my experience, they have always been really helpful and understanding. 

I also studied a lot from home, using online resources. I also took fewer papers at university to make it more manageable for me.  

Look after yourself, make sure you eat good foods. A lot of people try different diets but they haven’t helped me personally but have been beneficial to a lot of other people. Definitely talk to your doctor about this though. 

Give yourself a break, do not be too hard on yourself if you cant do the things that others are doing 

Some doctors consider stimulant medication but I have not tried this

Lastly! Sjogren’s!

I know a bit about Sjogren’s because it’s related to the disease that I have. It is an autoimmune disorder. If you think you have Sjogren’s then you need to ask your GP to do blood tests associated with Sjogren’s such as rheumatoid factor, ANA, antibodies (anti-Ro (SS-A) and anti-La (SS-B) antibodies). Ask for a referral to a rheumatologist. SELF ADVOCATE. Do not stop until you find your answer. Also, get routine bloods. It is common for them to change over time. I

If any of my followers have Sjorgens and have any advice, please comment!

I hope this helped, I wish I could come up with more advice on how to deal with chronic pain and fatigue, but I know it is really hard. If any of my followers made it this far and have any tips, please add to this post and reblog it so that more people can see and add to it.

EDIT TO ORIGINAL POST

This information was supplied by a tumblr user called @graciecatfamilyband who actually has Sjorgens. They said:

 Blood work and other tests CANNOT rule Sjogren’s OUT. This makes it very difficult to diagnose 

30% of Sjogren’s patients will have negative blood work.Other tests may also not be sufficient, depending on where you are in your disease progress

Doctors are often undereducated about Sjogren’s and don’t see it as as serious as it is

Many patients will have neuro symptoms as well as other significant symptoms like fatigue before their lip biopsy focal score is 1 (which is considered “positive” for Sjogren’s).

https://www.sjogrensadvocate.com/ is a great resource for people who think they might have this disease. It also cites research articles you can show your doctor if you need to

They also offered to help out anyone who want to reach out to them if they have questions or need advice about Sjorgens and also, with diagnosis’s.

Keep in touch, let me know how it goes. Don’t be afraid to reach out and dm me.

Love Aston 

[bellemorte180]

Just Good Business: Chapter Four

Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.

Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.

It's an affair for the ages.

A/N: This chapter is a bit lighter and calmer than the rest of the story. It takes place four months after chapter 2.

Four Months Later

Life had become a shit show for Caroline. Once the media got wind that Stefan Salvatore had been arrested for murder, the world turned on its axis. Reporters and journalist all descended upon them like a swarm of locus. Caroline was not a fool. She knew that Klaus owned multiple people in the news business, it was how he stayed out of the limelight, and he was doing this. He was making life very difficult for Damon and Stefan. Their movements were restricted, watched by the entire world. He was smoothing them, putting an insane amount of pressure just to show that he could.

Stefan was able to make bail and was out of his jail cell within days. Their lawyer, Alaric Saltzman, was good and knew exactly what loopholes to look for to get his client out of distress. However, the prosecution insisted that Stefan was a flight risk and needed to be monitored. So, he was slapped with an ankle bracelet and all of his movements were tracked. Now the courts were filled with motions, continuances and a long bureaucratic game of chess on whether or not Stefan Salvatore was going to prison. The public perception was screaming for a guilty verdict. The mansion was under complete surveillance at all times; however, the feed did not go to the FBI. Stefan was caged in; backed into a corner that he had trouble digging himself out of and he knew that Klaus was behind it. He assumed that Klaus was seeking revenge against the death of his brother Kol. A debt was owed and now Klaus was coming to collect. Both Damon and Stefan were feeling the weight of Klaus’s power and she could see behind their eyes that they knew that they were picking a fight they could not win.

But their pride would not let them surrender; even if Klaus allowed them too.

Everything was in lockdown. Stefan and Damon hired more bodyguards and Caroline was constantly followed. It was rare that she was allowed out of the house without someone by her side and the increase of guards made it so that it was not only Enzo that accompanied her. They came in shifts, different people in and out daily that worked for them and Caroline thought it was a foolish move. She knew Klaus would grab at such an opportunity and that some of these men belonged to him; along with an order to step in if Stefan even attempted to lay a hand on Caroline again.

At first, Caroline was able to get out of the house here and there, but it was becoming increasingly harder. If it wasn’t the media tracking her down, Stefan had her guarded. His paranoia was unraveling with his lack of control and he was worried that Caroline would seek out Damon to tell him his dirty little secret. While Stefan was boxed in, Damon had more freedom. He was not so closely watched by the media nor did he have the government, Elijah, tracking his every move. He was able to conduct business and do what needed to be done as long as he was careful.

But it wasn’t easy. Klaus side stepped him at every turn. Klaus had the twelve men that Damon had delivering important cargo from Italy, slaughtered; a bloody massacre that only made the news because the Mayor’s son, Tyler Lockwood was killed in the crossfire. By the time Damon reached the docks, all of the men were dead, and his delivery gone. Turns out Damon was importing weapons that were not legal in the United States, let alone New York.

With Damon’s continued absence, doing the work for both himself and Stefan, Elena found herself at the mansion with Stefan and Caroline more often. The ongoing affair became more frequent; it was the only thing keeping Stefan calm and while Caroline thought it was completely insane that the two of them would act in such a way, with so many eyes on them, she couldn’t help be thankful at Stefan’s calmed temper.

That, and as Klaus had told her months ago, Stefan and Elena would be a tragedy of their own making. It would only be a matter of time before the wrong person said the right thing to Damon, and everything would unravel. All Klaus and Caroline had to do was be patient.

In the meantime, Caroline just tried to live her life as though nothing was wrong and stay out of Stefan’s way.

“I have an appointment with Dr. Laughlin at 8:30. Caroline Salvatore.” Caroline told the elderly nurse behind the desk. Stefan did not even blink when she told him that she had a doctor’s appointment and that it was for her birth control shot. He just told her to ensure that Enzo and Maddox went with her. Maddox was a bigger man, burly, terrifying and dedicated to his job. He was young and very eager; two things Caroline found to be a troubling combination.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear. Dr. Laughlin resigned last month.” Caroline was taken aback. She had not heard that her doctor had left the practice. “No matter. We have you set up to meet with a Dr. Maxfield. I’m sure he will be more than happy to assist you. Have a seat.” Caroline nodded and made her way towards one of the seats in the lobby.

“What’s wrong?” Maddox asked her.

“Dr. Laughlin is no longer here. I was not made aware she left. That’s all.” Caroline pursed her lips. She had her theories. It was known that Dr. Laughlin was dating Stefan’s attorney and Caroline would not put it past Klaus to have her removed. She wished she had been informed of this change but knew that communication between her and Klaus was difficult for the time being. She had not seen him in weeks, let alone spoken to him; minus the scarce messages she was able to pass through Enzo.

“Caroline Salvatore.” Caroline stood from her chair, happy that her appointments were always early in the morning and followed the nurse into the doctor’s office. The nurse went about the normal routine, checking her vitals, weight and asking all the typical questions. She handed Caroline a cup and pointed to the bathroom. She paused slightly, not sure why she needed a urine sample but brushed it off. New doctor and seemingly a more thorough one.

Then she waited what felt like forever. The thing about doctors’ offices were that they wanted their patients to be early only to make them wait. When a knock sounded on the door, Caroline bid entry, relieved. Dr. Maxfield was a man in his mid to late thirties with blonde hair, blue eyes and a gentle face.

“Mrs. Salvatore. I’m Dr. Maxfield. I am taking over Dr. Laughlin’s patients for the time being.” He held out his hand for her to shake. He seemed harmless enough and she knew that Klaus would have vetted him thoroughly. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Normal. Fine.”

“Well. It has been a bit since the last time you were in.” Dr. Maxfield replied. He looked over her records. “About six months.”

“That’s not right.” Caroline narrowed her eyes. “I come every three months for my birth control shot. My appointments are always made a year in advance.”

“Mrs. Salvatore. You haven’t been here in six months.” Dr. Maxfield insisted. For a second, Caroline wondered why someone would delete her visit out of her medical records; but then she thought back to where she was three months ago.

She was healing from Stefan’s attack. He was facing charges and coming home with an ankle monitor. People in and out of her home, trying to stay alive and do what she could to help Klaus end this miserable existence. When her calendar reminder came up for her appointment, she meant to reschedule and never did. She never made that appointment and when her phone remaindered of this one, she didn’t think twice.

“Shit.” Caroline’s eyes where wide. “That’s why you had me take urine sample. It was a pregnancy test.”

“You’re quick.” He smiled at her. “Congratulations Mrs. Salvatore. You’re pregnant.” Caroline felt as though her entire world came crashing down around her. This was not in the plan. Her and Klaus never once talked about children and what their future held once everything was said and done. She knew she would be with him but beyond that, the future was a mystery. “Without doing a blood test, I can’t exactly tell you how far along you are.”

“Five weeks. It would have to be.” Her mind flashed to that night in the back of Klaus’s limo. She had a few moments out of the house when Stefan asked her to leave the house for the evening. She knew that Stefan was having her followed, he always had for a while now, but she was able to sneak out a back door of the department store she was in. She dressed up for Klaus; wore a little black number that left little to the imagination. It was one of their briefest encounters but suddenly became more significant. That was the only time they had been together since the media storm hit. It had been weeks prior to that meeting that they had been together and weeks since.

“Five weeks.” The doctor smiled kindly, understanding her meaning. “Do you want to see the baby? I can do an ultrasound.” Numbly, Caroline nodded her head. Thousands of thoughts rang through her mind. Did Klaus want children? Could she bring a baby into this world? What was she going to do about Stefan? His trial could drag out for months and if him and Elena continued to remain discrete, Damon may never know of their affair.

Dr. Maxfield left her for a few minutes before returning with the equipment. Caroline laid down and lifted her shirt in order to show abdomen. Dr. Maxfield put some jell on her stomach, Caroline wincing at the cold feeling, and moved the wand around. She watched the screen and looked at the black and white image of her uterus. “It’s too soon to hear the heartbeat but do you see that small bean shaped thing right there?”

“Yes.”

“That’s your baby.” That moment when Caroline thought the world was crumbling, vanished. She looked at that small bean and she knew that nothing was more important in the world. She would do anything to protect that baby-her baby. Klaus’s baby. The doctor just let Caroline look at the screen, a feeling of love consumed her. “Do you want a picture?”

“Yes. Please.” He nodded, snapped a picture with the wand and turned the machine off. The moment the image was gone, Caroline felt a sense of loss. The doctor left the office again and she cleaned the jell off her stomach. It took a few moments, that had Caroline pacing the room, before he returned. He gave her a small smile and handed her the photo. Seeing the ultrasound again, had Caroline placing her hand on her abdomen. Caroline continued to stare at the photo while the doctor rattled off recommendations that she would need to follow. She nodded her head, taking note of how to keep herself as healthy as possible.

“Now, it would be best to see you in about a month. Once the holidays have passed should be enough time. We can check your progress from there.” Caroline nodded. A month. That bought her some time to be able to see Klaus. She would have to figure out a way for her to get out of the house and to Klaus. Before she made any sort of decisions, she needed to know where he stood on this.

Much to Caroline’s relief, an opportunity presented itself about four days later…and in the form of Elena.

Caroline was sitting in one of the back rooms of the mansion, staring out at the December snow that was falling around them. The last few days found Caroline kept to herself. Damon and Elena were a constant presence in the home; some new catastrophe seemed to have befallen them, but Caroline tuned them all out. She was too focused on the life growing inside her and wondering how she was going to get them out of this mess.

“Caroline?” She turned to see that Elena had entered the room with an uncertain smile on her lips. Elena moved forward slightly and sat down in the chair by Caroline. “Sorry if I disturbed you. I couldn’t stand to listen to Damon and Stefan fight anymore.”

“What happened now?”

“You don’t know?” Elena looked at her confused and Caroline just shrugged. She knew that they all thought she was a spoiled little socialite that paid little to no attention to what went on around her, and Caroline was fine with that. “Mayor Lockwood is dead.”

“Oh?”

“Drowned in her own bathtub. Too much wine according to the news report.” Elena snorted at that. Caroline said nothing in return. It was Klaus. Damon was pressuring the Mayor to pardon Stefan. Klaus was already displeased by the fact that she had made a deal with them previously, he was not about to forgive her again. “Load of bull if you ask me; but I didn’t come in here to talk about Carol Lockwood.”

“Why did you come in here?”

“I need a favor.” Caroline’s expression had to have shown her surprise because Elena sighed. “And to say thank you. For everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah. Everything.” Caroline knew what Elena was trying to avoid saying but Caroline wanted to hear it from her lips. “Things are bad right now and it will be for a while. Damon and Stefan are trying to find a way to take Klaus down. One way or another, we will figure it out but right now it is hard.” She sighed and looked at Caroline. “You could have made things a lot worse for Stefan and I. I want to say thank you for staying quite…about him and I, I mean.”

“Elena.” It was hard for Caroline to keep the laughter from her voice. “Let me be plain with you. I don’t want to be married to Stefan, no more than he wants to be married to me. You know that.” Elena nodded. “The fact that he likes to fuck you behind closed doors, I don’t care. In fact, it makes my life easier because if Stefan has you, he leaves me alone. Why would I go run to your husband and ruin that? So, what do you want from me?”

“Fair point.” Elena nodded. Caroline skipped over the fact that Damon most likely wouldn’t believe her anyway; not without proof. “Damon will be out tonight. He is going to deal with this issue regarding the Mayor’s death. He has a few meetings and will be gone for a while. I was hoping that Stefan and I could have the house tonight.”

Part of Caroline wanted to tell Elena to ‘fuck off’ but she refrained. Here was the woman, who was fucking Caroline’s husband, asking her to leave her own home in order to for her to fuck Caroline’s husband. If this was not the life Caroline lived, she would not believe that this would actually happen to real people. However, Caroline knew she had a pressing matter to discuss with Klaus and she was not going to turn down this opportunity.

“Sure.”

“Really?” Elena replied surprised, her big brown eyes blinking at her sister-in-law in confusion. She thought that Caroline would give her a bit more of a hassle. “Thank you.”

“Sure. I haven’t seen Haley in a while. I might see if she is free.” Elena nodded. Clearly seeing that Caroline had no desire to speak to her, she stood from the chair and left the room. Caroline watched her go, rolling her eyes as she went. She pulled her phone from the pocket of her cardigan and pulled up Enzo’s contact information.

Come get me.

When?

An hour.

See you soon Gorgeous.

Caroline clicked her phone off and stared out the window again before pulling herself up. She walked out of the back room and went up the stairs. The house had gone quiet, the argument between Stefan and Damon seemed to have calmed down. Caroline entered the bedroom and pulled out a pair of jeans and her favorite oversized blue sweater. She changed out of her leggings and tossed the cardigan into the dirty laundry basket, heading into the bathroom to shower. Once showered and dressed, she dried her hair and pulled her it up into a messy bun before slipping on a pair of plain boots.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Caroline looked up to see Stefan glaring at her. Apparently, he was going to speak to her today, after being silent for the last few days. Hot and cold, that was Stefan. Caroline stood and walked over to her dresser, that had been replaced after Stefan beat her, and pulled out a small necklace her mother had given her when she was a teenager.

“I’m going to spend a few hours with Haley.”

“Oh really?” His tone told Caroline that Stefan thought otherwise.

“Elena asked to give you two some space. So, that’s what I’m doing.” She could see the shift in his features. “Ask her if you don’t believe me.”

It took everything inside of Caroline not to roll her eyes as she watched Stefan pull out his phone and shoot off a text. Caroline sat down at the vanity she bought shortly after she got married and applied some light makeup. If she applied to much, Stefan would think she was lying to him. If she applied none at all, he would still be suspicious.

“Okay. Go.” Stefan told her, pushing off the door frame. “Take Enzo and Maddox with you and be back before eleven.” With that, he turned and walked towards the shower; turning it on.

Caroline let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She grabbed her bag that she left by her bed and threw her Stefan-approved phone inside. She peeked through the bathroom door to ensure that Stefan was inside the shower before going over to her jewelry box and opening it again. There was a false bottom and Caroline opened it quickly. She pulled out the ultrasound pictures, her phone that Klaus bought her, and put them in a zipper pocket in her purse before closing the jewelry box.

She grabbed her favorite winter coat, slipped it on and went downstairs. She peaked out of the window, just in time to see a black car pull up. Without thinking twice, she all but bolted out the door. Stefan taking a shower and leaving Caroline unsupervised was perfect; neither Enzo nor herself would have to find a way to ditch Maddox. She climbed into the back and rested her head against the leather seat; relieved to see Enzo.

“How the hell did you pull this off?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Caroline muttered. “Drive before Stefan gets out of the shower and realizes there is not another guard with you.” Enzo nodded and pulled out of the drive. He headed towards the city and Caroline looked at the snowy grounds out the window. “Take me to the penthouse, please. Thank you.”

“Anything for you Gorgeous.” Caroline pulled out her two phones. She turned on the phone she used for Klaus and set her other one to forward her calls. Enzo held out his hand and she placed her Stefan-approved phone into his palm. “I need you to do something for me. Later, not now but in a few hours. I want you to destroy that phone.”

“Gorgeous?”

“I’m not going back, Enzo; and I don’t want to be found.” Enzo did a double take but said nothing. He just nodded and kept driving. Caroline scrolled through her contacts and clicked on Klaus’s profile. She dialed his number and waited as the phone rang. As always, Klaus answered for her.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Caroline replied and she could hear Klaus let out a breath. “Elena asked to have a few hours with Stefan and wanted me out of the house.” The look Enzo shot her from the front was pretty hilarious; wide eyes and slacked jaw. Even he, the man who has probably committed murder and other unspeakable crimes, was shocked at the audacity. “I’m coming to the penthouse. Will you be there?”

“I have a few loose ends I need to tie up but heading home. I can meet you there in about two hours. Is that enough time?” Loose ends. Caroline wondered who Klaus was murdering or what trade deal he was making. By the whimpers and groans of pain in the background, Caroline would bet on murder.

“Yes.”

“Perfect. Let yourself in.” Caroline smiled. “I missed you, Caroline.”

“Me too.” The disconnected the call and she could see that Enzo had questions, but she needed to speak with Klaus first. The ride passed in silence and while Enzo was possibly one of the most inappropriate people she knew, she thanked him for allowing her this peace.

They followed the typical protocol. The dropped the car off in some random parking garage before taking one of the cars Klaus had planted around the city. They turned off her Stefan-approved phone to stop the tracking device and drove off. When they reached the tall building where Klaus lived, she entered the lobby and went directly to the elevator; punching in the code for the penthouse. The moment the doors opened to Klaus’s home, Caroline kicked off her boots and hung her jacket up in the closet in the hallway; knowing perfectly well that Klaus would ignore the use of said closet.

The penthouse was immaculate and bright. The outer walls were made of windows, looking out over the city while the rest typically held some piece of priceless art. The floor was completely made of hardwood and he had several fluffy throw rugs stationed around the apartment; something noticed was added only once she mentioned she enjoyed those. Caroline had been to his home several times over their ten-month affair and she loved it because no matter how little time she was there, Klaus wanted her to comfortable there.

And she was.

Having some time to kill, Caroline went into his kitchen. It was a large with a startling view of the city. The counters were made of a steel grey with matching appliances. A round table was just off the kitchen island and a bar cart perched under an impressive painting that Caroline was sure cost more than what most people make in a year.

She rooted through Klaus’s cabinets and found enough ingredients for a vegetarian pasta. Cooking wasn’t something she did often because Stefan preferred to order in constantly; unless Elena was cooking then it was a different story. By the time she was almost ready to put dinner on the table, she heard the elevator ding and heard Klaus step out. She smiled, knowing that he was near.

“Hmm. I could get used to this.” Klaus stated as he came into the kitchen. He took off his winter coat and wrapped his arms around Caroline; kissing the side of her neck. She whimpered slightly; a mixture from his nose being cold and just the feel on his lips on her. It had been weeks since they had seen one another, and she knew that he was itching for physical contact as well. “Smells delicious.”

Klaus’s hands moved to slip under her sweater and cupped her bra-covered breast. He began massaging them while his lips sucked on her neck. Caroline’s head leaned against his shoulder and her eyes fluttered shut. His free hand moved down to the top of her jeans, dipping into them and moving down to cup her center.

“Klaus. I made dinner.” She whimpered out. She should have known that he would want to get her in bed the moment he stepped through the door. They had been without one another for far longer than either one of them would like to do again. In response to her plea, Klaus moved her panties to the side and pressed his fingers against her clit. “Klaus!”

“Dinner will reheat. I want you.” His breath was hot on her ear. He nipped at her ear lobe and Caroline moaned. She loved when he did that; a dirty little secret he knew drove her insane. She tried to not moan was he nipped and sucked at her ear, but her resolve was waning. She should talk to him. She should tell him about the baby but after not seeing him and the way his teeth were grazing against her skin and the pressure that he was putting against her clit did not made the decision easy.

“Fuck it.” She turned off the stove and let her resolve break. She spun around in his arms and kissed him. Hard. She pressed her entire body into his and dug her nails into his hair. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Klaus held her easily and moved to set her on the counter. “No. Bed. It’s been forever since I’ve had you in a bed.”

The devilish smirk that appeared on Klaus’s lips made Caroline shudder in yearning. Instead of letting her down and leading her to his bedroom, he lifted her over his shoulder. She squealed in shock and when she half-heartedly demanded that he put her down, Klaus slapped her ass in response. Once inside the large bedroom, Klaus flipped Caroline down on the king-sized bed. She bounced lightly and she couldn’t help but hear her laughter echo off the walls.

“I love hearing you laugh.” Klaus stated as he kicked off his shoes and crawled up her body. Caroline, who was resting on her forearms, met Klaus in the middle to kiss him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and laid back against the bed, pulling Klaus with her. She opened her legs in order for Klaus to rest between them. Klaus immediately began thrusting against her, pushing his arousal against her. Caroline moaned into Klaus’s mouth at the contact. He began pulling at her sweater, pulling it upward. “I need this off.”

“But baby, it’s cold outside.” Caroline teased.

“Then I’ll keep you warm.” Klaus retorted back, causing Caroline to laugh again which only made him smile widely. His dimples appear and Caroline could not help herself but lean up and kiss each of his cheeks before raising her arms up, allowing Klaus to pull the sweater over her head. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra and tossed it to the side. “Beautiful.”

Klaus latched onto her breasts eagerly. He sucked and nipped at one while his hand stroked the other. Caroline whimpered when his teeth grazed her nipple. She arched against his mouth while her nails dug into his shoulders; clawing the fabric of his shirt.

“Why are you still dressed?” He chuckled at her impatience and pulled back. He lifted his Henley over his head and threw it on the ground, forgotten. Using the moment to her advantage, Caroline put her hands on his naked chest and flipped him onto his back. She straddled his hips and rocked herself against him. She brought her lips to his chest, leaving small bite marks across his skin. Her eyes flickered upward and caught him watching her. Klaus threaded his hands through her light blond locks and gripped. He gently pulled her upward, catching her mouth in a kiss.

“No more waiting, Sweetheart. There will be time for teasing later.” Smiling, realizing just how much time they would have to tease one another, she happily rolled off him and began to unbutton her pants. She lifted her hips and pulled them down her legs along with her panties; watching as Klaus did the same. When they both sufficiently naked, Caroline went back to straddling him.

She reached down and grabbed his member, stroking him. Klaus moaned out her name like a prayer. She brought him to her clit, coating his penis in her juices before aligning herself with him. Slowly, she sunk down onto him. The feeling of him stretching her cause her to call her out. Klaus gripped her hips while she placed her hands on his chest. She began to rock and forth, enjoying the feel of him moving inside her.

Caroline knew that Klaus enjoyed watching her ride him. He was one of his favorite positions; watching her take control and use him for her own pleasure. When she began to pick up tempo and her strokes grew harder, Klaus sat up into the sitting position and gripped her hips. The change of the angle caused Caroline to cry out his name.

“Klaus! Please.” She tossed her head back, exposing her neck to him. Klaus latched onto the exposed skin and bit gently. He was always careful never to leave a mark on her and Caroline was done. “Harder. Bite me harder. Mark me.”

“Caroline…” She gripped his hair, pulling it back so he looks at her.

“Bite me. Do it.” Never being able to refuse her, Klaus starting to nip and suck on her neck; marking her. The consequences be damned. Caroline’s hips rocked faster and Klaus reached down between them. He pressed against her clit, rubbing it in circles. “Ah! Do that again.”

Caroline’s orgasm shot through her unexpectedly. Feeling her wither and come in his arms was enough for Klaus to spill himself inside her. It did not last as long as he had imagined it would when he finally got Caroline back into his arms but seeing her lose control like that, it was impossible to hold back. When they calmed down, Klaus laid back down on his bed and let Caroline curl up on his side. She propped herself up on her elbow and peered down at him. She took her finger and traced the length of his nose; causing Klaus to reach out to bite the finger.

“I missed you.” Caroline whispered. “I thought about you every day. Tried to find a way out of that house just so I could see you for more than a quick tryst in the back of a limo.”

“That tryst was quite memorable.” Klaus teased. Caroline bit her bottom lip, he had no idea. “I hate having to let you go each and every time. I want you to stay with me more than I want Stefan’s balls on a silver platter.”

“Charming.” Caroline snorted. She leaned down and kissed him lightly. “I need a teeny tiny favor.”

“Anything.”

“Can you go get my purse?”

“What?”

“It’s in the living room. I have something I want to show you.”

“But it’s cold outside and the bed is warm. You’re warm.”

“The faster you go and get it the faster you can crawl back in here with me.” Klaus gave her an amused sigh. He rolled his eyes at her. He crawled out of bed and walked out of the bedroom; not even bothering to put on the pair of pants. Caroline hopped up, grabbed her panties and that oversized sweater. She dressed quickly and hopped back into bed. Klaus returned with her purse and frowned.

“You put clothes on.”

“Because I don’t want you to get distracted. Now, put on a pair of pants.” Klaus handed her the purse and Klaus rolled his eyes. He grabbed a pair of pajamas pants from his dresser and slipped them on. He flopped down on the bed and looked at her, wearing a smirk.

“What is in that purse that that involved me getting out of this perfectly comfortable bed and away from my beautiful naked girl?” Klaus replied, trying to peer into the purse. She narrowed her eyes and rooted through the bag. She pulled the ultrasound out of the bag and flipped it down so he couldn’t see. She tossed the bag onto the ground and looked at Klaus.

“Okay. So, first things first, I was not expecting this. I was just as surprised and shocked and terrified as you are going to be.” Klaus sat up straighter, his teasing features gone and replaced with a concerned one. She handed him the ultrasound. “I’m pregnant.”

Caroline watched the emotions flash across his face. The color drained slightly, and his pupils darted around, taking in every inch of that photo. He sat up and moved toward the end of the bed, turning his back from her. His shoulders were tense. She could not read his reaction. Was he happy? Didn’t see so but he wasn’t screaming or raging; she was unsure what to think. She wasn’t expecting him to jump for joy, but she didn’t like the silence. Caroline crawled across the bed and wrapped her arms around him.

“I need to know something and please be honest with me.” Klaus whispered when she pressed her head against his back. The tone of his voice was dark, and she could hear the fear in it. “Is there any chance that Stefan is the father?”

The question took Caroline off guard. She had not expected him to question her on whether or not he was the father. Part of her wanted to be insulted; he knew that she did not want to sleep with Stefan nor had she in a long time. Then the calmer part of her brain reasoned that she knew what this was stemming from. He was the bastard child born from an affair; he didn’t want to become Mikael. He was presented with the very real possibility that the woman he loved was pregnant with another man’s baby.

“No.”

“Please Caroline. Don’t tell me what I want to hear. I need to know.” He turned to look at her and she could see the redness of his cheeks. He must have been tormenting himself over the fact that she was still married to the bastard; that she would leave him to return to the home she had with Stefan. He knew she didn’t want to but that was the nature of their life. She moved around him, putting her knees on either side of his hips; straddling him. “If there is any chance, it doesn’t change a thing. I’ll raise this baby-“

Caroline placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. She then took his face into her hands and looked him directly in the eye.

“I am being completely honest with you when I tell you that Stefan and I have not had sex in months. It had been awhile since that night I caught him with Elena, and he had no use for me in his bed since he had her. There is zero chance that he is the father of this baby.” Caroline grabbed Klaus’s hand and placed it on her stomach. “This baby, your baby, was conceived in the back of a limo during rush hour traffic on a night that I snuck away from my abuser to be with the man I love.”

Klaus leaned up and kissed Caroline and she could taste the salt from his tears on her lips. The kiss was gentle and soft. There was a side to Klaus that he never showed the world. Those who knew him only saw the monster he painted. He covered himself in blood, fear and chaos. He peddled every illegal substance known to man and he was, by definition, an awful human being. However, there was a part of him that truly cared. She saw it when he spoke of his brother Kol or about the day he had to send his baby sister Rebekah away. She saw it whenever he made love to her and held her close to him. She saw the man that hid himself away from the world and she would love him whether or not he was covered in blood or tears.

“You’re not going back.” Klaus whispered to her gently. He moved to stand, and Caroline climbed off him. He pushed off the bed and walked out of the bedroom; Caroline not being able to do anything but follow him. He was in the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of water; the ultrasound still clutched in his hand. She could see his mind at work, a thousand scenarios flashing behind his eyes.

“Klaus?”

“You can’t go back there Caroline.” He hissed out but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. She watched as he started to pace around the kitchen. “Every time I watched you leave me to go back to that…...hell…. it killed me inside. I never knew if he was going to snap. I never knew if you would be in the wrong place during one of his moods. I saw the pictures Caroline. I saw what he did to Meredith Fell…to you mother. When I saw the bruises he left on your body and all I wanted to do was burn him alive.” “I know.”

“But I couldn’t. It would just make everything worse because when there is Stefan, there is Damon who is just as bad.” He huffed. “I’ve done a lot of unforgivable things. I am a horrible man. I’ve gunned down dozens of men and innocent people have gotten stuck in the crossfire. Just last night I drowned the Mayor in her bathtub. This very evening, before I came home and made love to you, I killed a man who worked for Damon. I will admit everything I have done but selfishly, I love you. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose….” He looked down at the ultrasound. “I can’t lose either of you.”

“I know Klaus.” Caroline stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed her head against his chest, listing to his heart pounding widely in is chest. “When I walked out of that house today, I had no intention to go back. I have nothing left there that I want.”

“Good.” Klaus picked up her left hand and pulled the wedding ring Stefan put there almost two years prior off. He tossed it across the room. “Because your mine. I won’t let him touch you again and I swear to you that I will kill him. Maybe not directly, but I will be the reason why he dies.”

[diardiarmylove]

The Other Mark

So I did some small research and apparently 1994 is when Zero occurred and Cu Chulainn played on Stay Night, which is I believe is 2004? So for plot’s sake let’s make it that Dia got summoned in 2004, since I’m grouchy with years not aligning with character ages. Did some math and the sibling’s age is figured out, Amane 22 and Caster is 27 [He still celebrates even if he no longer ages, what a baby.]. 

also yea, I love making my oc’s suffer to form a strong character. sorry, I just enforce them.

Attempted Angst(?),. I watched a teeny tiny bit of Fate Zero, just where he got stabbed by his own spear. (rip man) Planned on making it three-way, y’know since Cu, but I just really wanna adore Dia bby. Also Caster is not here because in this AU she summons it around fifth/sixth singularity. Also uh, open ending cause I’m not done in America Singularity.

AU :  Soulmate AU. Both Parties Swaps Scars And The Pain With It, It Will Fade from their Body By 18 And The Destined Partners Would Swap Scars, depending on the damage, the other end of the stick would feel it, may also vary. The wound would fade if their soulmate die, and depending on their age, they’d receive the pain, then the scar, sometimes both at once.

— • —

Fate is truly cruel, no?

Soul marks sometimes show their partner’s experiences, through words, or by wounds. Other soulmates have first words, timers, red strings, matching bracelet, yet she had such a awful soul mark. She feels guilty that all the scars she gained training and honing every weapon she own in her arsenal; the little mistakes that could’ve ended her life had she been less careful.

She eventually forgot, as the Grand Order became a priority. She would remember sometimes, when she watched the doctor stitch and stare for reactions. She knew her scar wouldn’t fade. Her soulmate is dead, after all. They died one night in 2004, when she was ten, alone and was nothing more than a guinea pig for her parent’s sick curiosity.

Their next Singularity was America, precisely, 1780′s. Was when her burn faded and stab wound found exactly between the valley of her breast.

Of all the things Amane had to be reminded that her soulmate exist, was through a large burn like star between her chest, it looked like someone shot her heart with a burning arrow, the only difference was a large vertical scar the centers that burn. 

It was the exact wound she felt as a child. 

Relief washed over her soul at the sight. She sobbed when she saw it, they stayed there for thirty minutes to an hour. Mash beside her, who did her best comfort her Master.

“Senpai? What’s wrong?”, She said in an alert tone.

“My soulmate, Mash.”, She smiled as she cried in relief, “My soulmate’s alive. They’re a-alive..!”, she sobbed, before finally crashing to the Shielder’s arms. Mash placed her shield down, and cradled her master as she slowly sank to ground, sobbing in joy.

She remembers when it happened. Smiling through a painful memory as she clenched her chest.

Amane was seven when she learned her gift, her parents joined an operation that investigates mages nature two years ago. They would summon Heroic Spirits to create Demi-Servants. With the failure of such, they moved on to their next project. 

Studying the nature of Advanced Mages, the kind of mage Amane and her brother is. His brother had indestructible barriers and his sister gained an ability to will daggers and knives. They made a mistake showing their parents.

They were then chosen, along with a few candidates. But after a report their parents passed to the higher ups, they were priority subjects.

When then denied, their parents gaslights them to obeying, to apologizing, to participating. Gruesome Experiments were ensued from there, and they were only eight and thirteen years old. 

Eventually, a serious experiments failed drastically, and it brought her brother with it, he was fifteen.

They shrugged his death off, and just threw him away. And they hard scoped on the next best thing. Her.

During that duration, Amane’s wounds would disappear. The scientists believed this was because her soulmate being a newly adult and is suddenly taking the blows of what her body is suffering. For some reason, that was the last time she felt relief.

The doctors told her that there was a high chance it was her soulmate. Not like she’ll meet them, they said. The ultimate challenge for her would be to kill them, and feel the pain of her soulmate’s life fading away. The last piece that will complete her creation.

Fate got ahead of them, of course, she would.

Her hope died when she felt like she was stab through the chest. A phantom pain, of what felt like she’d been stabbed by a spear. She was ten. No one helped her. That was the end of her two months worth of relief and she knew she was truly alone. Her soulmate had died.

She stayed in that horrid laboratory for three years more. During that time, she was forced to expand her current mana pool, basically overexerting her use on magic. She fainted and woke up after a week.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was the experiments they performed. She knew they wanted her to be a weapon.

She was the only candidate to make a human version of a heroic spirit, especially with her skill set.

She was put into a room where she had to stay in place and make a barrier for as long as the gunner shoot magic infused bullets, she wasn’t allowed to will a sword to kill the gunner, nor is she allowed to deflect. She failed that test, and resulted a 3rd degree burn on the outer side of her arm. 

She was injected with vials of unknown substances. 

That was their mistake.

On her final day in that laboratory, she didn’t saw her parents, they became nothing more than silhouettes wearing coats, and Amane finally killed them before ran with all her life, hoping to get to the other end of the country, where she can be safe. She didn’t care if someone doesn’t take her in, all she cared was to get away.

After she knew she was safe, she focused on honing her abilities. Which miraculously help her end up in Chaldea, tested to be a Master Candidate.

Which led her here, in America, after clearing four singularities, with a present from fate that her significant other was suddenly alive. That would be impossible right? They died in 2004. Are they a Heroic Spirit? Most probably.

She had to shake her thought off. She’s on a mission that will change the world. She stray now and she will no more than a traitor to Humanity.

She then met up with Florence Nightingale, who is a Berserker Class Heroic Spirit, and the veteran nurse, after she fainted. Florence attempted to cut her scar open, until Mash explained it significance and their job in this singularity.

And it finally led them here.

In the field.

Where Florence aids the wounded as they face off against Celtic Soldiers led by two Lancer Class Heroic Spirit. Fionn Mac Cumhaill and Diarmuid Ua Duibhne.

A long fight ended with their victory, until Fionn decided to join. Before they can begin however, Fionn stopped. He stopped and stared as his ally’s injuries fade, as if nothing happened.

“Diarmuid, your wounds.”, Fionn muttered, and Diarmuid looks at his body. The only injury that remained was the scars on his arms and hands, along with the large burn on the outer side of his left arm.

They weren’t able to analyze further, as they heard a choked gasp, and all attention went to the Master. 

Gold eyes met wide gradient eyes, as her white clothes suddenly became bloody from the inside. The only thing he saw was her muttering a word before she collapsed.

“Senpai!”, Mash drops her shield, to catch the girl’s front, while Florence held her up from behind.

The two Lancers watched and held their men in place, as Florence slowly laid the Master’s body to the ground, and Mash giving Amane what bit of mana she can offer. Florence finally pulls out a knife and tears the uniform off. The damage done shocked Mash and the Berserker. 

“Lancer, your wounds.”, Florence starts, “It went to her body, the damage of a heroic spirit must’ve shocked her body.”

“What?”, the doctor said in a worried tone. “You’re right! Her vitals are haywire, she must’ve went into shock when the fresh injuries appeared in her body from Diarmuid’s! She’s still conscious! Hang in there, Amane!”

Diarmuid froze before focusing on the Master’s unconscious body. He wanted to know, what curse made him unknowingly hurt someone.

“Diarmuid.”, Fionn commands.

“My liege.”, Diarmuid looked hurt, he was guilty. “I must know. Whatever curse has been placed on me.. that made that Master take the blunt of my injuries..”, all he could blame was the scars and burns that appeared in his body the moment he was summoned.

Mash stared at the Lancer’s state. The injuries she and Florence inflicted were truly gone, except very particularly placed scars. Some were from when the doctor would stitch her after a Singularity. Some were when she found the scars on one of her arms after being almost burned by Fafnir, but only catching a portion of her sleeve. And a very particularly large burn, she saw too many times on her Master’s arm that faded when they arrived at the Singularity. 

Mash had a mission, and that included her Master’s well being.

“Were you perhaps.. Stabbed in the chest once?”, She watched as the guilt-filled Spirit froze even further.

“I-I was... For the duration of when I summoned, I kept receiving injuries. That was two months.”, Diarmuid gulped.

“Amane’s vitals are stabilizing! Wh-- Amane, what are you doing!? Rest!”, they heard Roman’s stern tone, and Mash turned back to her Master, and watched as she stood up, her teared and bloody top slipping off her arms, leaving her in nothing more than a gray sports bra.

They still as she struggled to get up, eventually summoning a halberd, and slammed it on the ground before leaning on it.

In that very position, was a very familiar vertical stab aligned perfectly between the valley of her breast, surrounded by a burn that looked like a brown star on her chest. 

They watched as her body began healing itself, what remained were the stab wounds, as they became a scar. She finally raised her head and shakily sigh, before she giggled. 

“Do you have any idea how alone I was after you left the world precisely twelve years ago, soulmate?”

[recordtank4]

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Ibutamoren or MK 677 has actually been shown to increase IGF-1 levels by 60% in 6 weeks. It is a non-hormonal and also therefore needs no PCT after the cycle is over. It will radiate more-so if ran in conjunction with SARMS S-4 and also Cardarine (GW ). This would be similar to a SARMS triple pile that is usually ran with Ostarine, except there is a possibility of more size being placed on while reducing. To conclude, the pure SARMs are not restricted to the ones stated over, but the ones provided are the leading 3 pure SURMs for muscle building. To comprehend even more regarding other health problems and its services, check our system for even more interesting information. Ostrarine is one of the best-knownproducts that are widely utilized in this century.

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For a few of the most effective medications, the examinations were also pricey to conduct at amateur level. Readus's wish to go quicker was at the origin of his use of medicines, as well as a large component of the benefit was emotional. Staite was too old to transform specialist, and also despite having the medications he was a nation mile off the very best in the sport. Despite exactly how far from centrally manage Shop Ipamorelin Online - pharmalabglobal are, though, professional athletes who dope often seem to intend to make a step up to the next degree of rate and also competitors, whatever it may be. Picture they coincide type of medications that reproached biker Lance Armstrong was outlawed for using to win 7 Tour de France titles. Currently imagine that several of the fastest riders in this pleasant neighborhood competition have used medications to improve their efficiency. The British Military takes a zero-tolerance method to substance abuse.

Peptides: What are they, uses, and side effects - Medical News Today

Peptides: What are they, uses, and side effects.

Posted: Wed, 16 Oct 2019 07:00:00 GMT [source]

Readus found that a great deal of the advice regarding dosages and discovery he got was wrong, implying some professional athletes fell short drugs tests regardless of all their efforts. For endurance athletes, the medications that were preferred one decade earlier are still the ones that are prominent today. Eventually EPO is merely perfectly fit to improving performance. Olympic cyclist and also former doper David Millar determined the similar sensation-- vitamin injection became his entrance to drugs.

There are many reasons you should use only real SARMs products. Really usually, the checklist of active ingredients found in these imitations is incorrect. A survey by PHI at Liverpool John Moores College-- Steroids and Picture Enhancing Drugs 2013 Survey Outcomes-- provides comprehensive info on the level and qualities of using these drugs in the UK.

How many types of peptides are there?

There are five different types of peptides used as skin-care actives: signaling peptides, carrier peptides, enzyme-inhibiting peptides, neurotransmitter-inhibiting peptides and antimicrobial peptides. When skin is injured, proteases break down damaged tissue into different peptide fragments.

Mechano growth element which is derived from IGF-1 as well as assists with tissue repair service as well as adjustment. Development hormonal agents like AOD-9604, which has weight loss homes and is used by professional athletes to raise power-to-weight proportions. Efficiency and image enhancing medicines are taken by individuals who desire to boost their physical appearance and/or improve their toughness and showing off performance. Essentially UKAD acts upon tip-offs, similar to law enforcement, with online forums and sites marketing medications a primary source for finding prospective culprits. Don't be fooled right into believing whatever you review online is true, though.

Medications influence the fitness and integrity of service individuals and have a destructive result on operational effectiveness. Fail a drugs examination, as well as you can anticipate to be released from the service. Experts such as physio therapists suggest people on just how to reinforce muscles after an injury or operation. They will evaluate the patient as well as deal recommendations and instruct them in exercises that can be made use of to strengthen certain muscle mass teams. Muscle mass are affixed to bones so solid muscle mass can support joints and also various other parts of the skeletal system. For people that want to build the strength of their muscles for fitness gains, they might speak with an individual instructor who can tailor a workout programme to the specific with goals to safely work in the direction of.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Goddess of Dawn (Ethan Ramsey x MC) {AU} *part 1*

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

{AU}

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! I’m emerging from the other side of the first week of uni! It will be a doozy, let me tell you that. The fact that I had exactly zero time or motivation to write, I decided to dig up my secret stash… an AU I was mentioning here and there.

So, it’s set about two years after OH1 and that’s all I’m gonna tell you, so I don’t spoil anything for you.

At the time of me posting this, AO3 is down temporarily, so I’ll add the link when I can

Enjoy! <3

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

I.

Rain was falling heavily from the sky, thick clouds coloring the world with grey colors and deep shadows. Puddles of water and mud covering the streets, shoes sinking into the ground. The ER was busting at seems, people coming and going, doctors struggling not to trip over one another.

Ethan moved from one room to another, placing quick but careful steps as to avoid slipping on the wet floor. He stopped by the entrance to the hospital, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. The coldness embraced him, making him shiver, his thin white coat providing not enough comfort to keep him warm.

The apparent tranquility was severed quickly by the screeching sound of tires scraping against the asphalt. It all happened quickly and quietly, the door of the car opened, a pair of hands pushed the black bag out onto the ground and then, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, the movement showering the dark mass on the ground in dirty liquid. For a moment the world stood still, until someone approached the strange object and screamed at the top of their lungs.

“It’s a body! Help, somebody help! I think I see blood!”

His body kicked into the fifth gearshift, throwing him forward before he knew what he was doing. Ethan fell to his knees, untying the knot at the top of the bag and pushing the material away, revealing a young man. No more than twenty-eight years of age, his face deformed, nose probably broken, his lips opened as he breathed unevenly. Ethan ran his eyes over the body, searching for the source of bleeding, and sure enough, a wound that seemed to have been caused by a bullet was roaring on the side of the chest of a young man.

Without a moment of hesitation, he picked him up, having previously made sure that he didn’t have any spine fractions, and, as fast as he could, carried him inside. The ER didn’t have empty beds, so he had no choice other than taking his patient to the OR to examine what was wrong. The man was conscious, but couldn’t see to talk, and every question Ethan directed at him was answered by silence. He called for a team of surgeons, letting them take over as he finished the initial examination.

A bullet wound, etched deeply between the ribs. His pupils were blown wide, which indicated that he may have been under the influence of some drug.

He requested a CBC and drug tests, then left the room, letting his colleagues do their work. That’s all he could have done, and now all he could do was wait. In the meantime, he decided to go and ask if anyone knew who the patient was, any clue that could help them understand what happened.

The first thing that came to Ethan’s mind was some sort of a gang activity, most likely a revenge that didn’t come to its fruition yet, because the man was still alive. The way the body was discarded, like a bag of waste, like useless garbage, it made him shiver. The man was young, and regardless of who he was, regardless of what he did or didn’t do, he didn’t deserve what happened to him.

Hours later, when the operation was over, he got the lab results back. No diseases, nothing genetic, drug tests came back negative. Nothing was conclusive, symptoms weren’t adding up, confusing him even more. No matter where he looked, it all led to a dead end, and at that moment he knew that he wouldn’t be able to figure it out on his own. He needed help.

And he knew just who to ask. Just as the thought entered his brain, a blonde braid came into his view, a bright smile greeting him, her eyes sparkling.

“You look conflicted. Did something happen?” Claire’s voice broke through a thick mist of his thoughts, standing next to him.

Claire… Claire has quickly become a significant part of his life. Over the past two years, they went through their fair share of experiences, with her earning a place on his team, which remained hers to this day, her work outstanding and her contribution to medicine tremendous. Of course, having her so close to him was not the easiest thing for him to do, as they both harbored feelings for each other. It would have been much less painful if he could hate her, if he could avoid her, but that was impossible. Whether he liked it or not, he seemed to be locked with her in an impasse, and all roads apparently lead to disaster and pain.

Despite the tension that filled the air every time they were in the same room, despite the sparks that lit up his body every time they touched, they somehow managed to last two years without breaking the promise they made to each other the evening of their first day back after the trial. That they would not compromise their careers and lives of their patients by giving in to desires that were fleeting.

Except they were not fleeting.

Seven hundred and thirty days. Seven hundred and thirty days of remembering how good it felt to have her in his arms, how her lips tasted, how he fit with her like two pieces of the same puzzle. The sounds she made during those nights of passion, ringing through his ears at all times of the night and day. And then they put a lid on it all, sealing the past with a lock, throwing away the key. All would be perfect, if it wasn’t for the fact that the key seems to have bounced off the wall it was thrown at and the lock was getting rusty, easy to break if enough pressure was applied.

“Ethan? Are you okay?” Claire’s voice broke through to him again, pulling him back into reality. Her eyes were trained on him, a few lines appearing on her forehead. Judging by the tingling sensation he felt in his arm, she was touching him.

“Huh?”

“You drifted away. One second you were here, and the other you were on the other side of the universe. Come back to me, Doctor.” She laughed a little, shaking her head at him. “Okay, so what’s going on? Tough case?”

He looked down at the file in front of him, using his hands as support as he leaned over the table. She joined him, her body mimicking his actions, so they were at a comparable level of vision. They observed the results in science, both deep in thoughts.

“I was meaning to ask for your opinion, because I don’t see anything in here. Nothing makes sense, nothing adds up. I mean, look-“ he pointed out one of the tests written on the paper at the same time as she reached in the same direction, and their fingers brushing against one another briefly.

Almost as though they were electrocuted, they jumped back and away from each other, their heads turned towards opposite directions to avoid eye contact. He cleared his throat, choosing to be the first one to break the awkward silence.

“So, um, any ideas as to what it might be?” he questioned, observing as her muscles tensed visibly all of a sudden. When she turned around, she had a haunted look in her eyes, like she was reliving a painful memory.

“I- I think I saw something like this before, but I’m not sure what it was. Who is the patient?” she clearly tried to control her voice but couldn’t help the break in it as she asked for the identity of a man whose results they were discussing.

“That’s the thing. I don’t know. He was thrown out of the car in front of the ER a few hours ago. I saw it happen myself, it was me that brought him in and took him as my patient. I asked if there was any ID on him, but they found nothing. At least for now, he’s John Doe. With some sort of condition that no one can diagnose and a bullet hole between his ribs.” He mused, remembering how bloodied his white coat was after he left the OR room and went to his office. “If I had to guess, some drug cartel fights.” He added, noticing how her whole posture straightened considerably at the mention of an illegal activity.

Claire was awfully quiet, something clearly on her mind. He saw her struggling before, saw the look of despair and sadness on her face when she wanted to save a patient but couldn’t. This, however, was something different. This seemed like a reason enough to make her stop in her tracks, to wipe everything else clean from her mind, leaving only the problem itself. Before he could ask her what the matter was, she turned to him, her face straight again, a desperate attempt to cover up her real feelings.

“Can you take me to him? Maybe we’ll be able to read more from his chart.” Her words seemed small, unsure, like she wasn’t certain if she even wanted to know who the victim was. He nodded, pointing with his arm to lead them both out of the room.

Walk through the halls was quiet. Claire didn’t mention anything about what was on her mind, and he didn’t push, because he wasn’t sure what was the case in the first place, and he didn’t want to overstep. The door was closed when they reached their destination, and it was her that reached for the doorknob first, not giving him a chance to even think about doing so.

She took a hesitant step into the room, her eyes focusing on the silhouette of a man on the bed. If he was confused by the whole situation before, now he reached new heights of perplexity. A shrieking sound escaped Claire’s lips as she threw herself in the direction of a man. She leaned over him, her hands touching his arms gently.

“Charlie?”

-----------

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[f-agee]

I'm not really good at prompts but here goes nothing.

Claudette is beside herself when she finds out she's pregnant. For most people, this would be fantastic news. Hell, it would have been great news for her if there weren't a few significant issues. The first being that's she's stuck in an almost constant state of peril—second being that she has to find away to keep now not only herself safe but also her unborn child. The last issue but definitely not least is that the father of her child isn't exactly the friendliest or even friendly to begin with.

Claudette/ Frank or (whoever you pick I can't pick between Michael ,Evan ,Frank ,Kazan ,or Pyramid head)

It’s on ao3 if you wanna read it there too. I decided to do Pyramid head cause I like him and it was more interesting compared to some other killers for me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24712846

For the first time after being trapped into the Entity, Claudette cried. She honestly thought all her tears have dried out by now. Every trial being an all too familiar torture she couldn’t even produce tears for anymore, but leave it to the Entity to find a new way to torture its inhabitants. In the end she can’t even blame the Entity for her mistake, it was even kind enough to grant her odd and unusual wish for a pregnancy test after she started getting sick. The dreaded object sat tossed aside carelessly near the log that she sat at, hidden away in the deepest part of an unexplored wood in order for her to feel comfortable enough to take it. It was her fault for not being careful, her fault for not thinking you could even get pregnant here, and her fault for even sleeping with the man in general. Despite everyone else she could try to blame, her newfound torturer was herself.

She tried to reason with herself a little, every act of negligence on her part did have a very valid reason to it. She never had her period since coming here, she’s had unprotected sex multiple times since being here, and if she was gonna be honest, she wouldn’t have even guessed that Pyramid Head was fertile. He seemed more like an entity himself rather than a regular human being. She would’ve been more concerned if she had slept with that Legion boy instead of him, but in the end she’d slept with him and was now facing the consequences of their actions.

There was nothing particularly bad about the man, except for the fact that he was a monster, and that was something that pained her more than usual. It was a somewhat ignorant thought that she would have never had otherwise, but in her grief, logic and empathy was starting to evade her. Claudette knew he was an intelligent beast. He responded to natural human conversation and was definitely capable of deeper thought despite his inability to speak them. They’ve had quite a few deep conversations before they started sleeping together, but for some reason Claudette felt a little disgusted with herself. Almost like she had slept with an animal and somehow found herself pregnant. The thought felt grotesque in her brain, and when she was more like herself, she felt that she should apologize to the man for even having such a thought cross her mind.

She hiccuped and cried harder into her hands. In a deeper part of her mind, she just knew her harsh and untrue thoughts were because of what he was to her. He was indeed monstrous to her both in stature and in nature. A born killer who preys upon the undeserving with no conviction would never make for a good father. She wished Jake had gotten her pregnant instead. They’ve had a few hook ups here and there towards the beginning of being trapped into the Entity.

Claudette couldn’t call it romantic, it was two people who were desperate for contact who wanted to feel a connection with someone they trusted. Their relationship remained platonic despite what they’d have done, and they were both fine with that. Claudette would’ve felt bad if she had thrusted a child onto him for something so inconsequential to both of them, but at least it would’ve been easy. It would’ve been a whole hell of a lot less complicated if it weren’t for the fact that the real father was a non verbal killer. It would’ve been one less situation to torture herself with.

She knew the father wasn’t Jake. They haven’t slept together in what seemed like years, and Claudette hasn’t had sex with any one else recently except for Pyramid Head. Oh God, to think that her baby daddy doesn't even have a name, just a title to call himself, made Claudette feel sick again. Once again, she shouldn’t be attacking him for things that he neither is, nor can he control, and she would definitely apologize to him later, but her child’s growth and future would absolutely be affected negatively by their bloody heritage. It’s already horrible enough to grow up in a place like this, but to have a visible murderer and torturer as your father doesn’t help.

She wonders if the baby would even make it. She’s so lucky she hasn’t died recently, but luck in this place dies just as quickly as the inhabitants it affects. Who knows what’ll happen to the baby if she dies, especially if her killer damages her stomach in the process? She knows that she’ll come back ok, but what about her unborn child? If her baby dies from her inability to protect it, the grief it will cause her would kill her again. She wouldn’t even know when she would have lost it. Prenatal care is almost impossible in this place, even more so with the fact that the only hospital in this realm has an ultra sadistic tormentor guarding it. She would have to wait to either miscarry in or out of a trial, or wait and see if her symptoms go away and she never grows bigger. She’ll sit and wonder if the Entity never put her baby back together like it did her after she died, just to start grieving for something that was dead months ago.

Even if her baby did survive, would they be healthy? Claudette could only imagine what it would be like to have continuous trauma to her womb during pregnancy. It’s not that she would love her child any less, quite the contrary actually, but she would always feel that it was her fault that her child wasn’t born as healthy as it could be. She also hoped that her child wouldn’t be afflicted with the same… condition as its father. She took the time to pause in her tears to laugh dryly. She could only imagine the torture of both carrying and birthing a child with a pyramid head. All of the cute little milestones of the baby moving around in her womb would slice her stomach open, or at least cause extensive, possibly irreversible damage to her. If it got bad enough it would probably be for the best to get an abortion, but God did she want this child. Despite every bad hand that's been dealt to her, she still loved this baby. She still wanted to make it work. She still wanted to see if she and Pyramid Head could be a family.

A family. That’s truly what she wanted at the end of the day. She definitely thought of the other survivors as her makeshift family, but this was different. To love someone dearly and have them love you back in such a way that only parents and their children could share. That’s what she wanted for herself. She wished she could’ve planned everything out better. If she was still going to have a child with Pyramid Head, she wanted them to be in love with each other. To at least have a romantic relationship before being saddled with a child. She wanted to have him love her, if not for her, then for the child. She’s seen what parents who hate each other’s guts do to children born between them, and she didn’t want another thing to add onto the child’s list of hardships. It’s not that she couldn’t have a loving relationship now, they’ve talked a lot and enjoyed each other's company many times before, but the chance that he wouldn’t love her in that way or would want anything to do with the child was far too high.

She’ll find out soon enough. It was for the best if she told him now before things got too deep. Her tears started to subside and before she knew it, she was already getting up to try and find a path that leads to Silent Hill. She only vaguely remembered the way to the confined hellscape, the killer being too new for habitual familiarity, and she hoped she didn’t stumble into any other killers territory. Afraid of what they could do to her if she walked into a particularly hostile domain, she started to feel herself tremble from more than just the tears.

She hadn’t even thought about it, but all of the extra stress that gets put on her could cause her to miscarry. Who cares if you escape a mad man’s clutches, when that same mad man scares you so past your wits that your own body kills the life inside it. Not to mention even if she survives the miscarry danger zone of the first few months, the further along she gets, the harder it is for her to run, hide, or help her friends. Try as her friends might they couldn’t do much for her if she couldn’t do it herself. None of them could face a killer toe to toe, and even as a group they can only save and protect the people who could help themselves out of a chase. If a killer truly wanted to kill a specific survivor, they will, and everyone who tries to stop them will only get hurt in the process. She can beg for mercy from the more kind and moralistic killers. Wraith, Legion, Huntress, hell maybe even the Oni may be more willing to turn a blind eye to her would be rounded form, but she knows for a fact that killers like Clown, Micheal and the Doctor would relish in the new ways they can torture her and would specifically seek her out in trials.

Her breathing got rapid and irregular. She was at the beginning of a panic attack and she knew it. This was all becoming too much for her. All this heartache, for a child that she wanted to keep. She needed to calm herself, knowing that it would do more harm than good if she let herself spiral, but her grief weakened mind couldn’t handle the onslaught of emotions. She paused in her steps, before falling to her knees. She didn’t even notice the startings of the familiar blood stained concrete, or the large figure walking towards her from a distance.

The ground shook slightly with the weight of Pyramid Head’s steps, small tremors getting stronger the closer he walked towards her. The even shaking gave her something to synchronize her breaths to, making her calm enough to at least be aware of her surroundings. Something must have gotten her there quicker or maybe she was just walking faster than she thought, either way she’s glad she made it here and not panicking alone in the forest. The sight of Pyramid Head clambering towards her would’ve scared her a month ago, but they’ve met up with each other like this a lot since then. It especially loses its impact after you’ve slept with a guy. Plus she had bigger fears on her mind than a man who seemed more concerned rather than bloodthirsty.

Claudette didn’t look up to him as he came to a stop directly in front of her. Her breathing had calmed down some, but she could still feel herself shaking violently. Only when the man kneeled down and put his hand on her shoulder, did she look up to him. She wondered how he could see with that thing on. If it were some sort of helmet, he would definitely only be able to give her a sideways glance, as he had to turn his head in order to not hit her with the metal contraption. He tilted his head even more to the side in concern, obviously asking a silent ‘What's wrong?’ To her. She knows she must look a mess to him, tear stained face and hyperventilating while sitting on the ground.

Her attack had mostly passed, but it’s disappearance did nothing to quell her shaking. She was definitely going to start crying again, and she didn’t even tell him what happened yet. The silence was starting to kill her. She wished either of them could speak to break the spell. She wished that she was strong enough to just let it all out. She wished that even when she did tell him that she was pregnant with his child, he could respond back and tell her exactly how he felt about the whole thing. She wished that she could’ve gotten pregnant under normal circumstances. Tears started to flow down her cheeks again as she whimpered softly.

Pyramid Head let out a startled low whine as he quickly shifted from letting go of her, to frantically waving his arms in front of her, then finally settling his large hands on her cheeks to both wipe her tears and let him have a clearer view of her face. He was definitely not used to comforting people, Claudette now knew that for a fact, but his genuine concern and eccentric way of doing it made Claudette feel a little better. She managed to let out a short teary laugh and put her hand up to hold his arm.

“Thank you,” She leaned into his touch and sighed. “I'm sorry... For the things I thought and said that you didn’t deserve. I’m sorry that I forced you into this position. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Now he looked even more confused than before. He paused in his ministrations and only seemed to stare at her. She knows he’s probably tired of her beating around the bush. She hasn’t said anything or done anything of substance since seeing him, only bawling her eyes out and panicking. She might as well get it out already, especially since, as a new killer, he gets called out often and could leave at any moment. She looked down, took a shaky inhale of breath, and licked her lips. Well… here goes nothing.

“Pyramid Head, I don’t know how it happened, but…” A pause.

“I-,” She looked back up at him. “I’m pregnant.”

She could feel him go stiff and even tighten his grip on her cheeks. As he made no further movements, Claudette felt the need to go on. To explain herself, to hear anything but the silence and the lack of clear emotion from the man.

“I asked the Entity to give me a pregnancy test, and it was positive… I want to keep it, if you don’t mind, but I don't know what to do. How we could survive, if we could survive. How I could raise them in a place like this,” Her eyes darted to and fro wildly, her hands following. She couldn’t help but to ramble. She needed someone there to listen, and here was just the man who needed to hear it. “God do I want this kid! I really do, but this is going to be so hard. And I don’t know if I’ll be raising the child alone or-”

Pyramid Head quickly grabbed her shoulders and shook them with a strong grunt. She finally looked up at him to see his large helm quickly swaying back and forth. This was somewhat unexpected to her, considering his lack of a positive reaction initially. Does he want to help raise the child? If so could her little fantasy of a happy family be closer to a reality? The thoughts ran laps around her mind. She felt her hopes starting to bubble up inside her. She wanted to see just how far she can press her luck.

“So… would you be willing to raise it with me?” A nod as his hand went down to softly palm her belly. She was starting to feel a smile coming on. “Well I don’t want to ruin what we have going on right now, but I was wondering if you wanted to.. I don’t know. Maybe start dating?”

There was a short pause that made Claudette’s heart drop a bit. She was going to backtrack on her words, but a confused grunt stopped her. She looked at him curiously as he pointed between them, made a lewd gesture with his hands, then formed a heart after he was finished. Claudette could feel her cheeks heat up at his display before questioning its meaning.

“Where we already dating when we had sex?” A curt nod was her only answer. She blinked stupidly for a second, then laughed at her ignorance. She was apparently worried about their relationship over nothing. She’s at least glad that she had one thing going positively for her.

“Sorry I didn’t realize. Most of the times I’ve had sex was mostly just flings, and to be honest it wasn’t a lot…” He put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it, trying to comfort her.

“Well that’s at least two of my worries gone, but what about the more pressing issues. I don’t know if the baby could survive an attack or me dying. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, but what about the other killers? You can’t always be there to protect me,” They both looked down darkly at the grim situation. “I mean I could ask some killers not to target me. I know at least a few who wouldn’t hurt me-”

Pyramid Head gave a low growl at that. So that was a hard no, but they didn’t have a whole lot of options here, and Claudette knew that neither of them wanted to test the Entity’s rules on pregnancy death. Suddenly Pyramid Head made another noise as he then gestured to himself, then towards the sky. She took a moment to think about what he was trying to say.

“Are you gonna ask the Entity yourself?” Another nod. A killer asking the Entity for a favor worked out a lot better than a survivor asking for one, but Pyramid Head was new. Who knows if the Entity will trust him to keep promises or not, although he does have a good track record for kills so far. Claudette made a face. She didn’t like to take her chances with the Entity, but this was the only shot they got.

“Well… it’s worth a shot. I sure hope this works out.” She gave a reassuring smile as he rubbed her shoulder again. Eventually he pulled his hand off her shoulder, and opened up his arms to her for a hug. Claudette wasted no time taking him up on the offer, and quickly threw herself into the well needed hug. His hold was strong yet mindful of her small form. Strong bloodied hands lifted her carefully as he stood with her still in his arms. He walked them towards the main building, most likely on his way to the library, as was their usual hangout spot. The familiar scenery of the book filled room made Claudette feel the same sense of euphoria as when she’s in a garden. They definitely have a lot more to talk about, as difficult as some of the conversations may be they must be had. At least they had 9 months to think about the details.

[realityandrebirth]

Femslash February: Turing Test

Summary: Pixal has never considered herself human, and she isn't about to start. When an old villain returns, she's forced to confront the traits that make her different from the humans she loves. A Nya/Pixal fic.

Notes: hey hey hey here’s a late post for day one of femslash february! my apologies for starting a new chaptered fic, but this one is only gonna be like, 8 chapters long & finished by the end of the month.

all my fics for femslash february are gonna be posted on tumblr first and collected on ao3 at the end of the month. have fun!

Chapter One

Ninjago City's bright lights gave the night sky a soft glow. Even from miles away, she could pick out her father's tower with its shining blue logo. She wasn't looking at the skyline that night, but even so, she felt it when all the lights went out.

Pixal snapped her head up. Zane looked over, concern written across his face. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"The power went out in Borg Tower." Pixal stood up from the couch, checking her system for the other connections that had gone out. "The rest of the city, as well. Generators are bringing emergency services online, but I can't get in contact with my father."

She moved to the window. The horizon was dark. Her processors whirred as she tried to figure out what had caused the blackout – she hadn't noticed anything wrong in the moments before. She couldn't connect to the internet. Pixal checked the most recent flow of data into her systems, but even for her, thinking in milliseconds, it would take hours to comb through everything.

Zane put a hand on her shoulder and she jumped. "I'll tell the others," he said. "Do you us to go ahead of them?"

"I can go alone," Pixal said. "I will call if I need backup."

"There might be danger, Pixal. We don't know what caused this blackout. Isn't there supposed to be systems to prevent this sort of thing?"

Pixal shrugged off Zane's hand. "My first priority is making sure my father isn't trapped in his office without a functioning elevator," she said. "As I said, I'll let you know if I get into trouble."

Zane frowned, but didn't protest further. Pixal left the room and went to put on her armor.

*

She was greeted on the street by panicking citizens. "Samurai X!" someone shouted, and they all turned to look at her.

"I thought she was Pixal?" someone commented. Pixal herself scoffed. They clearly weren't in significant danger if they could debate the semantics of her name.

"Is everyone alright?" she asked, looking around. The buildings were intact, and there were even some cars still driving around. "What's the situation?"

It took some argument among the crowd, but eventually, someone stepped forward to explain things to her. The blackout had happened without warning and with no explanation. The emergency broadcast system was down, too. With no way to find out how or why this was happening, and with no sign of when it would improve, people were starting to panic. Pixal confirmed that emergency services like hospitals had generators running, and faced the rest of the crowd.

"Don't worry," she said. "The ninja will be arriving shortly to assist in any way they can. If there's nothing that needs my attention before they get here, I need to check on Borg Tower."

No one argued otherwise, so Pixal left to check on her father.

*

Pixal didn't see any of the usual employees in the lobby to greet her, and no one as she ascended the stairs. Around floor thirty, she did a quick sweep through the rooms just to make sure no one was stuck somewhere, but when her search came up empty, she resumed her climb.

Was Cyrus Borg even here?

His room was empty. Pixal shone her flashlight in every nook and cranny, and found nothing out of the ordinary. Was he in his office? He often worked late nights, but it was almost three AM. Pixal found that her mind was using excessive processing power going through potential explanations for what had happened. She killed the routine and headed to the hundredth floor.

"Father?" she called out, shining her flashlight around the dark room. "Are you here?"

For a long few moments, no one answered. Pixal was prepared to turn back, but something kept her standing there, and she heard a weak voice respond.

"…Pixal?"

"Father!" Pixal took a few steps into the room. "Father, where are you?"

"…over here…"

Pixal pointed her light at the desk at the opposite of the room and ran to it. Cyrus Borg was on the floor behind it, and he looked up at Pixal with a small, crooked smile when she kneeled down. "Thank goodness," he croaked. "I thought…"

"Father, your arm!"

Long ago, an evil force had taken her father's arm and replaced it with a mechanical prosthetic. The invasive procedure had rendered it impossible to remove, and all Cyrus could do was accept that it was part of him now.

Now, the prosthetic was in pieces, warped bits of metal scattered across the floor, and there were wires sticking out of the remainder that was still attached to his shoulder. Cyrus winced away when she reached out to examine it. "Ah, Pixal…"

Pixal's mind whirred. "The doctors said the wiring reached to your spinal cord," she said. "Removing it entirely was too risky. The procedure could kill you. Father, what happened?"

Cyrus took a deep breath. "There was a virus," he said. "Not the Overlord, no, but… something he placed to… to monitor me? To… I don't know."

"It was in your arm?" Pixal eyes scanned the pieces strewn around him. None of it was together enough to still be functional. "Father…"

Cyrus pushed himself up, his face contorted in obvious pain. "You're hurt," Pixal said, and she took hold of his good arm and let him lean on her. "Did something attack you?"

"The virus was dormant after the Overlord's defeat," he said instead of answering her question. "But… it was reactivated. I don't know how or why, but when I realized… no, Pixal, I did this myself."

Pixal took a moment to process his statement. "The power went out," she said, preferring to think of something other than Cyrus smashing his own prosthetic. "Was that caused by the virus?"

"It… might be related. It went out shortly before the virus was reactivated. Pixal, are the ninja coming?"

She nodded. "Zane knows I'm here, and I can send a message to him and the others. We need to get you to a hospital."

"Of course," Cyrus said, and he let out a half-laugh cut off by a pained groan.

Pixal picked Cyrus up, careful not around the shoulder where his prosthetic had been. She didn't know the full extent of what the Overlord had done – not even her father knew – and if something had been damaged internally, there was no telling what might happen. Her father was clearly in pain already.

"We're going," she said, and she stood up.

Someone was at the office entrance. Pixal couldn't see them clearly in the darkness, and they disappeared into the stairwell when she shone a light on them. All she saw was a flash of green. Pixal frowned. Cyrus had gone stiff, and she could hear his rapid breathing.

"Just a moment," she said, and she placed Cyrus back on the ground.

"Pixal, wait –"

"I'm just making sure there's no danger," she said. "Stay here."

Despite Cyrus' protests, she turned and strode towards the entrace. "Show yourself!" she shouted, drawing her sword. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

No response. Pixal stepped into the stairwell. It was quiet, and she didn't see anyone, but there was a presence in the atmosphere that was impossible to ignore. Pixal gripped her sword and ran a program to scan the area.

Something slammed into her side. Pixal tumbled down a flight of stairs before locking on to her assailant's position. She threw the sword without confirming visuals, and looked up to see her sword pass through empty air, with no sign there was anyone in the stairwell with her.

No – there was someone there. She caught another ripple of translucent green coming towards her before she rolled out of the way.

Pixal heard the thud as the invisible figure hit the ground where she had just been. She righted herself and pointed her sword. "Show yourself, ghost!" she demanded.

"Is that what I am now?"

She knew that voice. Pixal tried to calculate the probability of her situation. It was inconceivable. All the villains that had come back on the Day of the Departed had been banished again – how was Cryptor here now?

Slowed down by her calculations, she didn't react in time to stop him from slamming into her again.

She crashed to the ground, losing her grip on her sword, and reached for the second one on her back. Just as her hand closed on its hilt, something sharp was jammed into the joint of her shoulder.

Electricty coursed through her. Her mind filled with hundreds of warnings and failures that she was rapidly losing the ability to comprehend as her systems killed every unnecessary routine. In one last, desperate move, she took all her power and rerouted it to her chest.

The world went white. Pixal's last conscious thought to hope there was enough of her left to reboot.

[scripttorture]

Medical Testing Part 1: a quick introduction to drug testing

I get a fair number of asks based around this classic sci fi scenario: a person is captured and held in a scientific facility for ‘testing’.

Usually I suggest authors choose between writing this as a pseudo-scientific torture scenario* or as an unethical experimentation scenario. But I haven’t actually discussed what ethical testing practices look like or how they differ from unethical ones. In fact I haven’t really spoken about what medical testing looks like at all. So I thought I’d put together a quick introduction to medical testing and the ethics surrounding it.

I ended up splitting this in two, because it’s a complex topic and the original post ended up rather long.

It’s probably helpful to start with the basics: the scientific method.

We tend to use the word ‘science’ to talk about technological advancements or discoveries but what the word really means to scientists is this: we learn more about the way things work by testing our ideas.

Science is effectively a demand for proof. If you think a particular treatment or medicine would help someone a logical argument isn’t enough. You need to back up the claim.

Backing up that claim now is tougher then it was historically because our understanding of how we interact with our work and how patients respond to doctors has improved.

Experiments and medical trials now acknowledge the fact that scientists and doctors are flawed individuals: we’re biased because we want treatments to succeed. Which means even if we don’t think we’re manipulating data we tend to emphasise the positives in our results.

One of the ways we try to avoid this is by involving more people, so that the people analysing the data didn’t generate it. Another is with double blind trials, which means that no one involved in a medical study knows which patient is tacking the medicine being tested.

Most (but not all) medical trials also use placebos, which in this context means something that looks like the real medicine but doesn’t contain anything which will have a medicinal effect. So if the medicine being tested was in an inhaler the placebo group would have identical inhalers, which contain no medicine.

Some medical tests will use a licensed drug (ie one that’s already passed testing and been shown to work) instead of a placebo. So you’re comparing a new potential medicine against an established medicine.

I’ve mentioned it before but for those of you who don’t know I work in the pharmaceutical industry. My day job is testing inhalers. The part of it I focus on is whether or not a medicine can actually be inhaled by a patient and where in the lungs it would end up.

There are quite a few practical reasons for using a particular delivery method (ie taking a medicine in a specific way such as a pill, an IV or an inhaler). If you’re sending the medicine directly to the part of the body it effects you can (usually) reduce the dose and this reduces the side effects.

Some ways of taking medicines are also easier to use then others: any one can use an inhaler, it’s a lot more difficult to inject yourself or someone else.

A lot of the things I’m going to describe here are UK based: I’ve worked in drug testing for a while but only in the UK, laws and standard procedures vary by country.

I’m also not going to talk about animal testing. I realise a lot of people have strong feelings about it and that’s not an argument I want to get involved in. The most I’m going to do is describe when animal testing would typically take place and how long it would last for. The focus here is on in vitro (‘in glass’, chemical testing) and human trials.

Developing a drug to the point where it’s used by patients can take around 15-20 years. Here’s what it looks like.

Drug Discovery and Preclinical testing

How do scientists find new medicines? Well- most of the time we guess.

Some scientists build up a database of diverse compounds. Often they'll be taken from bacteria, fungi or plants and purified.

Some scientists will work from existing drugs or compounds that almost passed the testing stage. They'll make a selection of modifications and build up a database of related compounds that way.

Sometimes if we have a 'target' for a particular disease, usually an enzyme or protein we need the drug to interact with, drugs can be designed to increase the chance of interaction.

But whatever the initial approach the majority of drug testing today relies getting a lot of chemical compounds, throwing them at a disease causing agent and seeing what kills it. Potential drugs are mixed with cancerous human cells, normal human cells, bacteria cultures, fungal cultures, parasites etc and the list of what kills a disease (or diseased cell), without killing normal tissue is where we get potential drugs.

Leads that are considered promising usually go on to animal testing of some description. This overall process of identifying a potential drug can take anything from 5-10 years and most promising leads won't end up as useful drugs.

Clinical testing

This is when things get serious and expensive.

Typically testing begins with a small group of healthy volunteers. About 100 people will be given the drug to see- well if it poisons them or causes serious side effects that would stop it being useful as a treatment. This is often called a Phase 1 trial.

Depending on the kind of drug ‘serious’ side effects can be a pretty broad term. A friend of mine takes medication which can, potentially, make someone’s skin die and start to fall off in big chunks. But because this happens rarely, because his illness is serious and because there are very few other treatment options- this is considered an acceptable risk.

On a similar note modern cancer treatments include mustard gas. Because it works and it’s better then dying.

Phase 1 can take 1-2 years.

The next stage of testing is generally when patients start getting the drug. They typically involve a few hundred people. This is called Phase 2.

Part of the initial testing with patients is about finding out how helpful the drug is in practice. It’s giving it to a small group of people, in small doses, and monitoring them for improvements and side effects. This will be done several times in different groups to control for as many factors as possible.

Imagine a medicine designed to treat a particular kind of infection (bacterial, yeast, fungal etc). Lots of different people might be prone to the infection especially if the infection occurs with other diseases or conditions. So one test group might be patients who only have the infection and the second test group might be patients who have the infection and are taking immune-suppressant drugs (for example organ transplant patients). Another group might be patients who have the infection and use particular kinds of medical equipment, like respirators.

This is the stage of testing where placebos come in.

It’s well known that giving people something that looks like a treatment can result in a clinical improvement. Modern medical testing requires doctors and scientists to show that a drug or treatment is better then faking it.

And the way we typically test this is with double blind trials. Patients are randomly assigned to a group that’s given the drug and a group that’s given- something that looks like the drug.

Which can be more complicated then you’d think. I say as someone who has never been involved in a discussion about how on earth we could make a placebo that thick and yellow.

The ‘double blind’ part means that both the patients and the people conducting the study don’t know who is taking the placebo and who is taking the drug.

This means any significant improvement (or the opposite) that takes place across an entire group is definitely due to what the patients were taking.

Phase 2 can take 2-3 years.

The final stage of clinical testing involves a lot more people, sometimes several thousand. This is when researchers look at effects across a larger population, ways patients might misuse drugs (ie not store them or take them properly) and whether the drug is actually better then drugs we already have. It’s generally called Phase 3.

Phase 3 is usually the final hurdle before a drug can be used. If a medicine passes Phase 3 all the remaining hurdles are to do with legal reviews and approval.

Testing lasts a lot longer and it can also include what happens when patients stop taking the drug.

This stage is the cumulation of all previous testing. It’s about showing that the medicine helps most patients, doesn’t have severe side effects, is consistently better then other treatments (or has advantages other treatments don’t). It’s about collecting as much data on the medicine, from as wide a group of patients as possible.

And then analysing all of that data to (hopefully) show a statistically significant improvement for the vast majority of patients.

It can take anything from 3-5 years.

Additional Testing

Everything I’ve described will be repeated at different dose levels, with different formulas and sometimes different methods of delivery.

Even if the drug passes testing doesn’t stop. Shelf life is tested in different conditions. Rapid temperature changes are used to mimic being transported by air. The crystal structure of the drug is examined. So is the way it interacts with other materials, such as the bulking agents in most pills.

And this testing is important. Subtle changes, such as in the crystal structure of a drug, can have a big effect on how useful the medicine actually is.

Ritonavir was found to change crystal structure when it was stored. Which changed how easily it dissolved and how easily it was absorbed into patient’s bodies. This made the difference between an effective treatment and a dose so low it had no real impact.

Some studies will also monitor patients for years after Phase 3 to check that more long term use of the medicine over years doesn’t cause problems.

Compassionate Use

Compassionate use trials are when doctors make an ethical argument for using a drug before testing has finished.

What that tends to mean is that a patient is in a terminal condition and every other available treatment has failed. But there’s something part-way through testing that might help.

These trials aren’t scientific, we actually consider them anecdotal evidence. They don’t involve enough patients to be statistically valid and there’s no placebo or control group.

And most of the time they don’t work any better then the other treatments doctors have tried. But sometimes they do.

Compassionate use is the argument that sometimes, rarely, the ethical thing to do is break the rules so that patients can have every possible chance to live.

What does all this mean?

Possibly an obvious point but medical testing, done right, is hard. It takes a lot of time and effort and money.

We had a presentation on a compassionate use study for one of the drugs my company tested a few days ago. About a hundred people who’d been involved in the testing or supporting it turned up.

There will have been at least another dozen in the hospital running the study. Another dozen people were involved in the original discovery of the compound.

The drug is working incredibly well and it’s being fast tracked. It’s probably only going to have been 10-12 years work in total.

Science takes time, but it also takes team work.

And that’s an important thing to consider if you want to write something that actually looks scientific: the effort involved. The people, the specialist set up of the building, the equipment, the records and the time.

Fiction has a tendency to present scientific advances as the work of lone geniuses. In reality it’s usually dozens of small groups of people, each with different specialist areas, getting together to try and do something incredible. We move forward, not in bounds but in inches.

And we do it by carefully recording, controlling and analysing everything, from the quality of light to the temperature of the room**.

So if you want your villain to be a scientist, think about everything that implies. Not just their intelligence but their attention to detail, their record keeping and above all their ability to work with others.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*For previous discussions of my problems with portraying torture as high tech see here.

**Both of these factors have had measurable effects on compounds I’ve worked with.

[sophisticauthor]

Profile: Callahan, Alexa D.

Description: Brown hair, Brown eyes, 5 feet 7 inches

Birthdate: September 18

Age at conviction: 16

Current age: 19

Birthplace: Rochester, New  York, United States

Current Location: UNKNOWN

Family:

     Mother: Alisa Callahan age 47 - deceased

     Father: Geoffrey Callahan age 52 - deceased

Siblings:

     Jennifer Callahan age 12 - deceased

     Benjamin Callahan age 19 - deceased

This file contains eye witness accounts of events related to and/or allegedly caused by Alexa Callahan.

Eye witness account by Victor Drell

Age: 37

Occupation: High School Teacher

  September 18,

     I never saw the explosions, but I heard them. My wife Mary called the police as I went to go investigate. We live two houses down from the corner, I could see the apartment building on the opposite side - or where the building used to be – in a smoking heap. A couple of houses around it were knocked around too, but the residents there seemed to be fine.

     When I got closer, I noticed the other neighbors start to come out as well. I climbed into the rubble hoping that someone was still alive. I noticed crushed remains of corpses lying everywhere; I wanted to vomit. One man was missing an arm and groaning loudly, so I called to the others to help move him to a place where rubble wouldn’t fall on him.

     One of the neighbor kids called out from behind me that there was a girl who was still breathing. I told someone to take my place with the man, and rushed over to the girl. She was still breathing. She looked to be about fifteen and was wearing a white dress that was all tattered around the edges, her hair was a little singed, and I thought she probably suffered some trauma from what seemed like a fall from the second floor. But she looked mostly fine otherwise, which in hindsight was a little odd. Seemed like a miracle at the time. That’s when the police and paramedics arrived and took all the living away.

     I learned later that the man’s name was Carl Stephenson, and the girl was Alexa Callahan, who was turning sixteen that day. I heard on the news that Carl Stephenson had died in the hospital and was taken by family for burial. But not that Alexa girl, she had no family left, and she was alive. A real shame, to have a bomb like that go off on your sixteenth birthday.

Report by Vanessa Bradford

Age: 42

Occupation: Nurse

        I was assigned to a girl by the name of Alexa Callahan. She had suffered from several injuries caused by the explosion of her building. The full extent of the damage done to her was: A few broken ribs, a hairline fracture in her arm, a mutilated ankle, and trauma to the head. She seemed to have landed on her left side, and somehow managed to save her spine and vital organs. She was unconscious for 72 hours after the operations were finished. When she finally awoke, she was mostly unresponsive. She played with the recliner on the bed for a while and just stared at faces for a long time. She didn’t speak to anyone; not to doctors or nurses, not to the other patients. She didn’t respond to food or water, and didn’t even react whenever we adjusted the needles in her arm.

     Many of us tried to coax her to eat or speak and she did neither for almost two weeks. Her doctor was beginning to wonder if we should be running tests on the speech part of her brain when she finally spoke.

     She asked me when she could go home.

     I told her that we had to make sure we had treated all her injuries first. Then she asked me what happened. I told her that authorities were still figuring it out, but it seemed as if someone planted a bomb in the building, possibly a terrorist attack.

     This made her jump up in a panic, she just shouted “It wasn’t!” Her heart rate spiked, and she almost tried to get out of bed. I calmed her down a little and asked her what she remembered.

     What she said didn’t make any sense. “People, people talking happily; singing, my singing, singing for me; color, lots of color, piled on the walls and the room; fire, there was fire and ticking. Tick tick tick. Incessant humming, thousands of bees humming in the walls. You can‘t hear it? Tick tick tick. I made a wish, then BOOM. Fire, fire! A little boy calls for help. Help her, help her, is she okay?”  

     I cut her off because she was flailing about and going on about nothing. She kept talking. Nonsense, more about the ticking and the humming. I tried to get her to sit back and relax, not to strain herself with the memory, and I eventually managed to get her to sleep. I remember she whispered “not terrorist, no terror. Make a wish” as she drifted off to sleep.

     I only witnessed one other event that was significant.

     A couple weeks later when she was being encouraged to walk around, we found that she would disappear for hours on end. We were deciding what to do with her, the ramblings hadn’t stopped and we were getting worried. Furthermore, she had no living blood relative that anyone could find. Meetings were being held to come to a decision. I was lucky enough to be personally involved in the discussions.

     She burst in to one of the meetings. I don’t know how, we thought the doors were locked. Her hands were bloodied as if she had cut them on sharp glass or metal or something. She took a seat at the table with us and said something odd.

      “I realize that I am the main subject of these meetings. And I feel obligated to put my two cents in.” Then she dropped two gears on the table, like they were the two cents she was putting in. I don’t know where they came from, but they were covered in the blood from her hands. A couple of us stood to try to help her back to bed. But she waved us off and insisted that she needed to continue speaking. She said “I’m not yet so far gone that I don’t know what is happening.” And then something like “I have completely lost all relatives, I am underage, and I’m raving mad.” And she dropped another gear on the table for each thing she listed. Her grammar would get all jumbled up, because I remember she said “I would think it advisable that under any circumstances you do NOT create me another family. I could not handle an artificial mother.” Which was worth four gears for some reason. At this point, we were starting to realize that these were clock parts. And then she told us that she didn’t want to be sent back into society, that she was too crazy and too dangerous before dumping the rest of her bloodied clock parts onto the table. We wanted to stop her, but I think we were all too shocked.

     She started to rearrange them in some order and I remember she said “But time is running out, and you really need to come to a decision” Then she pulled out two clock hands and placed them in the center of her bizarre pile. Then she wrote “tick, tick, tick,” on the table in her own blood, stood up and said “Thank you for your time” like she had just asked for a little favor, not made a mess of the table.

     I have never seen a transfer report go through more quickly.

 On October 23 Alexa was transferred to The New York Psychiatric Institute, and then by an anonymous request, to Castle Facilities in Virginia. The transaction of this was only documented once. The only legitimate information recovered from this document was the location and the date she was moved (February 15).

She remained at Castle facilities for about two years, until authorities started to take an interest in her case and launched an investigation. However by the time they arrived at Castle facilities, Miss Callahan was unable to be found.

At the alleged location of Castle facilities only ruins were found. It was apparent that the site had not been visited for many months. The building was demolished in a way that was similar to the explosion at the Callahan residence.

This leads authorities to believe that the explosions were caused by the same person. Suspects include: Alexa Callahan (missing), Justin Carter (missing), or Jamie Lucas (deceased).

At the site of the wreckage, few pieces of information were recovered. However, there was one piece pertaining to this case that proved to be interesting. A badly documented journal by Dr. Harvey Lancaster (deceased) containing vital information about the Callahan case.

Much of this journal is either missing or illegible. Therefore, the following information contains errors and assumed information. The following information is paraphrased, not quoted, and only vital information was inputted. The full copy of Dr. Harvey Lancaster is not available for viewing.

Information is as follows:

1.   Alexa Callahan has a strange fascination with clocks. She is known to either disassemble the clocks, or to change the time inaccurately. The number that she chooses seems well thought out and precise and she changes every clock to the same time, though it is inaccurate. She attempts to change all clocks at once. Every attempt at this results in a different time. The purpose of this behavior is unknown.

2.   Alexa Callahan had no apparent intentions of harming the other patients or facility employees.

3.   Alexa Callahan has moments of near sanity where she would stop her mumblings of clocks and ticking and the end of the world where she will occasionally ask about her family or the facility. During these states of mind she would frequently ask about her friends Jamie Lucas and Justin Carter. Both Carter and Lucas came to visit Alexa in the Castle exactly twice, but not at the same time.

4.   Alexa refuses, under any circumstances to believe that she is wrong in her ramblings, though she will admit to the doctors that she is insane.

5.   Intense flashes of light, fire, loud noises, and shaking or sliding scare Alexa. She afterwards falls into a bout of crazed, relieved laughter, and more rambling about ticking.

6.   Alexa can accurately tell the time without consulting a time piece. It is unknown how she is able to do this, but it is not any of the conventional methods.

7.   Alexa made many references to the fall of the kingdom and gave an exact time, down to seconds, of the alleged time. - As a discovery not recorded in the journal of Dr. Harvey, it seems that this number led to the explosion of the mental ward.

8.   All ramblings about the past from before the explosion are real memories, not stories of her own invention.

9.   She is unable to walk in a straight line; her movement pattern sways back and forth.

10. She is able to recognize people and speak clearly with them. She seldom mistakes the identities of people around her.

11. She avoids all effort to make social interactions, however is not fearful when approached.

12. She enjoys acronyms, puzzles, word games, and brain teasers.

13. She fights most attempts at physical and eye contact.

 An investigation was launched to find any survivors of the explosion. 15 recorded patients were reported alive. Eight patients were discovered in a nearby town (about 13 miles away). Local authorities had discovered the patients and were housing them while awaiting orders of what to do. Six of the seven remaining patients were recovered in the woods surrounding Castle facilities.

Alexa Callahan, the only unrecovered patient, is theorized to have fled to the woods surrounding Castle facilities. No bodies or sightings that match her description have been reported, leading authorities to believe she is still at large.

Authorities have lost all trails but refuse to give up the search.

Alexa Callahan is suspected for murder and terrorism. If identified, it is recommended that authorities are alerted immediately so that she may be taken into custody.

 Do not try to approach, converse with, or make eye contact with Alexa Callahan. It is uncertain how she will react.

 Do not flash lights or light fires in her presence; she is known to react violently.

 Do not try to detain Alexa Callahan alone, she is known to be violent when angered.

 TAKE CAUTION.

 If Interaction is unavoidable, refrain from sudden movements, physical contact, and eye contact.

 If conversation is unavoidable, keep voice at a low register and avoid any loud noises.

 If she begins to make a countdown, inform authorities immediately. If this action is not an option, remove yourself from the vicinity. Countdowns from Alexa Callahan seldom lead to anything less than disaster.

 If these guidelines are not heeded . . . god save you.