#medical aptitude test

[brain-amoeba]

Test: The Mortician's Flame (Gregory House x F!Reader)

Hi friends :) I have been very busy this summer between a 6-wk course session, an internship, and banging out a couple sentences a week on my wips because of writers block. BUT, I (obviously) have gotten into House MD and let me just say I am definitely very normal about it and can be trusted with it. Anyway, I was listening to Acid Bath and the song title 'The Mortician's Flame' gave me an idea for a fic in which the reader is a mortician. Below is a little excerpt, partly because I want to see how you guys like it and because I am hitting a block and need some feedback for the direction I want it to take...so without further ado, enjoy:

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. It was a name you were quite familiar with, and found yourself frequenting. Considering your occupation, it did not exactly spell good news for the hospital, though…you were a mortician. If death did not follow you everywhere, then it was you who chased it. You tried medical school, tried working as an aid at various clinics of all kinds throughout your schooling. Despite your aptitude, you never quite clicked with the living patients. After years of frustration, imposter syndrome, and the death of a loved one, you were beckoned to your current profession. All of these thoughts left your brain swimming as you made your way through the lobby and towards the elevator. The sharp clacking of a certain cane snapped you out of your brooding.

"Oh, Dr. House…" You trailed off. An unusual clamminess came over you, and you found yourself wiping humid palms on your slacks. "I was just coming up to see you. I-" The ding of the elevator interrupted you, and he ushered you inside. " Y/N. I wasn't expecting a trip from the Grim Reaper so soon. Is it my time yet?" He asked, almost sardonically. Though you were used to his abrasive personality, his remarks still caught you off guard. "W-well, I don't live too far from here, and I got a phone call from my…boss…" You were dumbfounded completely--what the hell has gotten into you?! Normally, House's cold gaze did little to penetrate your psyche, but this time, that icicle was wedged completely between your eyes. "And? If you take any longer someone might actually die, and then you would have a legitimate reason to be here. But you don't, do you?" And there it was. Were you really surprised, though? If he could deduce a one in a million diagnosis and be correct on the regular, then him seeing right through your flimsy excuse was guaranteed. "I-!" There were millions of things you could say, but not even a single word could make it past your trembling lips. Saved by the bell again, the elevator opened with a ding and House led you out, towards his office.

[thatsrightice]

HOW TO BECOME A FIGHTER PILOT

So as you may or may not know, I am writing a fanfic. Unfortunately for me, I can never do things half way, and because aviation is my passion I must do hours of research on a particular subject that I probably won't even use or reference in said fanfic. Here is a guide for how our favorite characters (probably) became fighter pilots. If there are inaccuracies let me know, I want to know :)

United States Naval Academy

The USNA is an undergraduate college that is a combination of academics and military development programs. Students who want to go into Flight School could qualify with one of a variety of different majors, but there are particular majors that obviously may provide a bit of an advantage to aspiring pilots. The USNA currently offers a variety of different majors and minors, though there are fewer than you might expect from a typical university, and overall the degrees are more tailored towards the Navy. They encourage participation in athletics in the form of a Varsity or club/intramural sport(1). 

NOTE: Maverick likely attended a regular college and was a part of the Naval ROTC program at that school. He would have gotten his degree in a field relevant to aviation, likely Mechanical Engineering given his mechanical aptitude seen in Top Gun Maverick, and then attended the 13-week program called Officer Candidate School. To be honest, Maverick’s path within the Navy is a mess and impossible to follow but in the most straightforward scenario, he would go to flight school following Officer Candidate School.

Flight School 

Flight School is an approximately 2-year-long program that is required for Naval Aviators to earn their wings. Primarily located at the “Cradle of Naval Aviation” aka Pensacola, FL, flight school consists of many different phases that will divide students into different specializations. 

1. Naval Introductory Flight Evaluation (NIFE)

Divided into four phases, NIFE is a program that evaluates students’ aeronautical aptitude as well as screens them to ensure they’re capable of becoming aviators. Students may earn a “pink sheet” for any score below 80% or a failure of a task, requiring them to stand before a panel of instructors to explain why they failed and how they plan to improve. Too many pink sheets result in removal from the program(2).

1a. Water Survival Training Following medical clearance, students are taught and tested on their ability to swim while wearing flight gear as well as formerly instructed on various survival techniques and CPR(2).

1b. Academics  A 3-week phase where students take classes and exams in five subjects. It is condensed to test a student’s ability to retain information, learn new information in a high-stress environment, and challenge their self-discipline in regard to time management and other areas(2).

1c. Introductory Flight Screening (IFS) Students are entered into a 2-week-long modified civilian flight training program where one week is dedicated to ground school courses before they must conduct a series of flights in a Cessna using Navy flight procedures during the second week. Students had to memorize and prioritize information to complete the flights, specifically in regard to conducting pre-flight briefings and emergency procedures. Overall, they’ll conduct seven flights in which they are required to complete a set of standardized maneuvers(2). 

1d. Aviation Physiology A week-long training course that consists of emergency-specific training evolutions such as the hypoxia chamber, emergency first aid, and the “helo dunker.” The “helo dunker” (from what I understand) is a particular training device that consists of strapping a pilot into a cockpit-like or helicopter contraption within a pool and submerging the entire structure under the water, simulating an environment in which their aircraft has landed in the water and they need to escape from the seat(3). An image of this can be seen below(2).

The Top Gun cast had to undergo a similar training course in order to be allowed to fly in military airplanes for filming. A video of some of their training can be viewed below.

2b. Aviation Pre-Flight Indoctrination

A 6-week long program that marks the beginning of the aviation pipeline. Located in Pensacola, FL, students attend classes covering the basics of aerodynamics, weather in relation to aviation, air navigation, flight rules and regulations, and aircraft engines and systems (3). 

Prior to API, those interested in becoming Radar Intercept Officers (RIO) will have expressed their interest and requested a designation as a Naval Flight Officer (NFO). 

2c. Primary Flight Training

A 6-month-long program that teaches the students the basics of flying. There are two locations for Primary, one at Training Air Wing 5 at Naval Air Station Whiting Field in Pensacola, FL, or Training Air Wing 4 at Naval Air Station Corpus Christi in Corpus Christi, TX. Both Naval Air Stations (NAS) are taught the same curriculum and fly the same aircraft, the T-6 Texan II. The students learn about the instruments, flight basics, radio instrument navigation, formation flying, and aerobatics, and also conduct several solo flights. At the end of Primary, students choose which pipeline they would like. This is conducted depending on the needs of the Navy and how many spots are available(3). 

Obviously, Iceman, Slider, Goose, Cougar, and everyone else got Jets, though they may not have gone through flight school at the same time. 

2d. Intermediate Flight Training

Intermediate Flight Training is a 27-week program. Split into five platforms; Jet, E2/C2, Helicopter, Maritime, and E-6 TACAMO. The jet platform flight training focuses more on navigation, air traffic control, individual skills, and cooperative skills of flying jets. The intermediate flight training program for jets is located at Meridian, MS (Training Air Wing One) at either VT-7 or VT-9, and Kingsville, TX (Training Air Wing Two) at either VT-21 or VT-22, both of which teach the same curriculum. Students in the jet platform will complete 58 graded flights in the T-45C Goshawk jet trainer aircraft(3). 

2e. Advanced Flight Training

Similar to Intermediate Flight Training, the program is split into five platforms but lasts 23 weeks. The students will probably have stayed with the same training squadron throughout the intermediate and advanced flight training. This stage includes learning skills specific to the chosen platform. The Advanced Flight Training program for jets is what’s called the Strike Syllabus. The Strike Syllabus includes an additional 67 graded flights in the T-45 covering air combat maneuvers, low-level navigation, tactical formation flying, and aircraft carrier qualifications. Students will then graduate from Advanced Flight Training with the Wings of Gold(3). 

3. Squadron Selection 

The final selection process assigns naval aviators to a particular squadron based on the needs of the service. Naval Aviators are assigned to a fleet replacement squadron or other similar training assignments for further training on their specific aircraft type. Here, RIOs and pilots must become qualified by gaining the required flight hours and meeting the proficiency standards necessary.

NOTE: It’s kind of hard to figure out when exactly the RIO training occurs. I know it takes place over the course of all the primary through advanced training occurs as well but I’m not sure if they have to attend seperate courses for it. 

TOPGUN

From there, pilots and RIOs may have been moved to their first official squadron for deployment. They would have been in their first squadron for approximately one and a half years, deploying with them. Their squadron would come back from a deployment and during the stand-down time before their next deployment, their commanding officer would select them to go to TOPGUN.

Sources

(1) https://www.usna.edu/homepage.php

(2) https://www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/Article/2944668/nife-lays-foundation-for-naval-aviation-training/

(3) https://www.cnatra.navy.mil/tw4/flight-school.asp

[covid-safer-hotties]

You were asking for COVID news the other day. I don't know if this counts, but the Aptitude Medical Metrix COVID Test reader is back in stock after being out of stock for at least a month if not more. AFAIK, they're the only at-home, molecular, reusable test available in the USA (and it took me far too long to even learn it existed. I only found out about a month ago, despite being in the C19 Cautious-sphere for a few years now.) The reader costs US$50 and the tests cost US$25 each. It's also possible to do a saliva test instead of a swab test if needed.

(It won't let me put a link, sorry.) (I'm not affiliated with them nor do I make any money off of this; I just thought it would be useful for people to know. I know I was refreshing their page every day for the past month.)

Added a link on our "where to buy" section of the archive!

I know a girl who uses these because she travels all the time! A bit more expensive than the RATs, but incredibly accurate for such a small package!

[alarici]

State of decay

Rated T, 950 words

-

In the years since the Kira case, with Near at the helm, and L and Watari long since buried in the plot beside the west wing, what was once called The Wammy’s House decays.

It takes seven years to fully dismantle the program. The youngest children need to find foster homes or new families or other, carefully vetted, well-funded programs to matriculate into. The older children are graduated and placed in the best universities around the world—set to become the everyday successes of tomorrow. Tsinghua, Juilliard, Cairo, LSE, UCLA, Tohoku, ETH Zurich, Oxford. The residual funds are allocated appropriately to make sure that everyone is well taken care of. Study funds and stipends, merit grants and insurance.

Personally, Near sees to the edge cases. Kids who, according to the headmasters and the instructors, never lived up to the promise of their aptitude testing—the weak, the attention deficit, the headcases. He speaks to each one—Do you want to live alone? Do you want to learn a skill and work? Do you want to go back to where they found you? What are your medical needs.

It’s dispassionate work that he takes on in his limited spare time. The dismantling of the program was not necessarily his idea, but he saw it to the end.

By 2024, L Lawliet has been dead for almost two decades. Enough time for a child to grow and have a child of their own. Near has no children—will never and can never—and finds this fact amusing.

At exactly 13:23 GMT on 21 October, 2024, Near celebrates a homecoming of sorts.

—

The grounds have been left to wither. The estate is unsellable—or, nobody wants to bother selling it to a Silicon valley expat or a London financier’s portfolio. After all, it was a school. Renovations would be required.

When Near is driven into town and left there—”I’ll get there from here, thank you,”—he overhears, in a quiet cafe, that the children think the mansion on the hill is haunted. “Halloween” is an American holiday that is not celebrated in England. The evening is foggy and limpid. The sky threatens an afternoon rain.

He arrives at the wrought iron gates at 15:13. He knows there is nothing for him, here. But he’s already been given this time to pay his respects. A holiday of sorts. Never in the past twenty years has he kneeled before graves. He expects he won’t today, either. There is nobody here to pay respects to. Mello is buried in an unmarked plot in a quiet district of Tokyo. The stake on the eastern edge of the property in Winchester—In Memoriam, Mihael Keehl—is growing moss. Near stops by this landmark, first. Many colleagues and coworkers, commanding officers and cadets, have died since Mello. Near has not kept track of many of their names.

Mello’s memorial has not been cared for. They stopped sending groundskeepers to the property in 2019. Near carries a book in one hand, his plastic cane in the other. He stares at the spike, leans on the arm brace, and considers the most respectful acknowledgment of this memorial. This isn’t what he came here to do. Mihael Keehl—no, Mello—has been dead for more than a decade. In that time, Near has solved more than five hundred cases. A-Kira. The Hong Kong murders. The Dubai trafficking ring. A few stray Death Notes.

In the years elapsed, the loss has simmered. Like soup, which Near has seen others make (his current boyfriend is fond of cutting the mirepoix into centimeter by centimeter cubes) the thought of Mello is turbid and wafts around him constantly. However, there is no room for the what if. There is only the course the universe bent, that day.

Near, in his own way, has paid his respect. Said his thank yous, if he owes any thanks. He bows, as far as he can manage, to the spiritless grave. He does not kneel.

In Tokyo, Mello’s bones are likely rusting, rotting in the temperate soil. Were he buried here, at 51° latitude, he may still have his skin, in death. But this is unimportant. He would not wish to be buried here.

Near bows, and says two prayers for the dead. He knows a Latin version as well as a Hebrew. To this day, he does not know if Mello died religious—died believing in any gods beyond those he had met and been scorned by.

“Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.”

“יִתְגַּדַּל וְיִתְקַדַּשׁ שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא.”

He adds a hymn Mello might have sung for his parents in the dialect he most likely spoke before his life as a successor began.

“Святой Юмо, Святой Куатле, Святой Колыдымо, мемнам серлаге.”

Near has been told not to pass judgment on the irrationality of faith, so he has learned the hymns. The grass grows tall around Mello’s stake.

One year, Near had gotten angry about it. Back when he was twenty one or twenty two—inconsequential—and awake for forty hours, Near had raged at a silent room over it, and never again. And the anger was not about the death, nor about Near’s inheritance, his duty. Not Mello’s mistakes nor his sacrifice. Likely, looking back with the hindsight and wisdom of a man ten years older, Near images he experienced as much grief as he was capable of, that night. There was no grave to stand over, and there was no body, in the small room in Cape Canaveral when Near was twenty one. No surviving images of him. No letters nor notebooks. The bout of rage, insanity, grief (he cautions to call it) was triggered by a smell (something sweet burning), of all things. And had subsided with the yellow dawn.

The frustration was likely at being left alone. Of his own inefficacy in his first trial, and the acknowledgement that a man like Mello had deserved to live to see more days. Had deserved better than a pine wood stake on a lonely corner of the grounds of the school where he was raised and an unmarked plot in Adachi City, Tokyo.

Next, Near walks slowly towards the house itself. A jackrabbit sprints across the lawn in front of him. A hawk circles to the north. 

[that-one-i-think]

A list of who is on the S.S. Phoenix Drop and their jobs. The S.S. Phoenix Drop is a transportation ship with the additional job of investigating planets that have been infected by THE RED aka Shadow Knight virus.

Aphmau - Stowaway and Captain - Despite most likely only being a few months old, this clone has shown a high aptitude for command and a weird ability to sense when the crew needs to high tail. Unfortunately, she has a tendency to ignore those thoughts and rush head first into danger

Garroth - First Mate - He is in charge of all of the beurocratic nonsense and actually makes sure that the ship runs smoothly. He should have been promoted to captain after the previous captain died, but he doesn't want to make actual decisions and feel the guilt that comes with it.

Katelyn - Weapons Expert and Second Mate - Given how they deal with an infection that causes literal zombies, her job is to make sure that they are equipped to handle it. They are also a transport ship so dealing with pirates is also rather common

Laurance - Gunner and Survival - Before joining the crew, he was a professional explorer, his career only ending when he caught (and survived) THE RED. So he is in charge of navigation and preparation for when they do have to go planet side. He is also in charge of buying necessities with a budget made by Garroth

Zoey - Medic - Just as the title entails, she is the medic on the crew. In charge of the health of the crew injured or not. She keeps track of the dietary and social needs of each member of the crew and enforces it.

Travis - Translation - As a shape-shifting slime he has the ability to absorb information at a much faster rate. They are most important when exploring planets that are not a part of the galactic alliance as he can gain knowledge of language by touching a native speaker, dead or alive. Very helpful when someone needs to read the "DO NOT ENTER: DANGEROUS" so Aphmau can ignore it.

Nana - Communication and Navigation - She is the woman in the chair, well, wheelchair. She keeps everything and everyone on track. Though, she is this close to running Aaron over with he chair is he turns off his coms ONE MORE TIME!

Dante - Mechanic - This 7-foot man is here to carry big things and repair things in the ship. If one were to look at him, they would assume he is some form of military tank, but the dude just likes fixing things. Strong autism vibes.

Aaron - Test Subject - Since the man is made from THE RED spores, he is immune to the infection so whenever they have to go onto an infected planet, he is sent on to determine how safe it is for the crew. He also sometimes takes out enemies that board the ship but other than that, he just broods silently in a corner hating his existence.

Lo - Therapist and Funder - Lo is an entertainer and companion that employs the S.S. Phoenix Drop for rides from planet to planet in exchange for giving them some extra funding and connections. He is listed as their "therapist" so the Galactic Federation gets off their back. Since he isn't part of the crew, Garroth vents to him A LOT.

BONUS

Zenix - Extra Gun and Spy - Zenix is normally assigned as an extra gun to the ship. He is also a spy for Vylad who is posing as a spy for Zane who is posing as just an extra gun for the S.S. Phoenix Drop. Messy!

[commsroom]

honestly, i understand why pryce resonates as an abusive mother figure - particularly in the attitude of 'i made you, and i get to control how you live/identify/etc.' - but i think seeing her abuse of hera primarily through that lens robs it of important context and nuance. hera's trauma is structural, it's medical, and it's inherently tied to the way capitalist structures punish deviant behavior, neurodivergence, and especially disability. hera was already making mistakes before hilbert hurt her, and she was already traumatized before pryce put that thought in her head. her entire life up until that point was nothing but aptitude testing, behavioral trials, etc. in a system she tried to escape from. the only reason she wasn't just decommissioned permanently is that they found a job for her to do. she's given self doubt not just as punishment for disobedience, but because obedience is the goal in creating compliant workers who won't have the ability or willpower to challenge their mistreatment.

maxwell's purpose in memoria, the way she intends to help hera, is primarily goal-oriented: it's in getting hera back to work, and if she can't? replacing her with something else that can. it's why there's a running theme of lobotomy (threatened or actual.) it's about bodily autonomy, particularly in terms of patients who were uninformed or cannot reasonably consent to what's been done to them (another thing eiffel and hera have in common, "defined by being a test subject" as victims of medical abuse, the only two characters called "expendable assets.") the three people who hurt hera most were all doctors, and whatever duty of care they may or may not have had to her... it's significant to her as a character and to the themes of the show that medical care is never geared towards the needs of the individual, but always some "greater good" or future scientific advancement at their expense.

[itsyoung8]

The age of the students at Bullworth Academy (part V)

Ouais salut l'équipe! Sorry for this long time of absence but as I said, studies take up a lot of my time. Well, here is the part V which was very much awaited (it's not true, but please do it)! Sur ce, bonne lecture!

Details:

-> I'm going to assume that Bullworth Academy is a high school

-> Since it is a high school located in the United States, four years ago and not three as in Europe (ex: France). That's why I'm going to make the following cut:

1st year: 14-15 years old - Freshman

2nd year: 15-16 years old - Sophomore

3rd year: 16-17 years old - Junior

4th year: 17-18 years old - Senior

Nerds:

Earnest Jones:

as seen in the previous part (I know it's dated), I had hypothesized (although it is very likely) that Ted was a 17-18 year old senior. Since Earnest and Ted are competing for the class steward position (I think that's it lol), I came to the conclusion that Earnest was also a 17-18 year old senior.

Algernon Papadopoulos:

I couldn't find much about Algie. The only small element that can give rise to a hypothesis is that in a line of dialogue, he says that Ted nicknames him "little buddy". In this case, if the word "small" refers to his age, it would mean that Algie is younger than Ted so either a freshman, sophomore or junior. But if it's not his age, then I don't have anything to make a hypothesis about his age.

Beatrice Trudeau:

Without a doubt, Beatrice is a 17-18 year old senior. On several occasions she talks about medical school and even says in a line of dialogue "I already know the medical schools to which I'll apply". Those in their final year have to apply to the universities they want and wait for an answer (like us in France). That's why Beatrice does this. Add to that the fact that she's been applying to be a cheerleader for several years, but Mandy turns her down every year. This reinforces this idea that Beatrice is a 17-18 year old senior.

Bucky Pasteur:

"I don't think I'll ever be big enough to be a Jock but I want to try!". This is the only element that allows me to go on a lead concerning Bucky. This line of dialogue makes me say that Bucky is not a 17-18 year old senior because it would be ridiculous to want to join the Jocks in his final year. So Bucky is either a freshman, a sophomore, or a junior. Unfortunately, I couldn't find anything else that would allow me to give him a precise age.

Cornelius Johnson:

If you listen closely, you can hear Miss Danvers making an announcement that Cornelius has the worst result on a sports aptitude test in the history of the academy. From that moment on, I told myself that he must be a 14-15 year old freshman. However, Cornelius says that Dan was hanging out with the Nerds last year so the idea of a freshman is wrong because otherwise he wouldn't have known Dan as a Nerd.

I came to think that Cornelius might be a 17-18 year old senior and that the aptitude test is the test for those in their final year, I don't really know.

Thad Carlson:

First of all, I went to look again at Dan's presentation sheet and I hadn't noticed that it was written that Dan could be one of the oldest students in the academy. So I'm going to assume he's a 17-18 year old senior.

As far as Thad is concerned, if he knew his big brother as a nerd, then he is either a 15-16 year old sophomore or a 16-17 year old junior.

Donald Anderson:

Donald is, in my opinion, either a 16-17 year old junior because he says "This is probably the worst year. Ever at Bullworth" and in this case the word "ever" refers to the fact that he is still at the academy for this year but that next year it may change, either he is a senior of 17-18 years old because he speaks college like all the final year students I have dealt with in the previous parts.

Melvin O'Connor:

As I said with Russell, the age to drive a car in New England is about 18. On the other hand, for a scooter, you must be at least 16 years old without restriction (tell me if I am wrong Americans) while in France, for example, you must be at least 14 years old.

When Melvin says "I thought delays were supposed to wear helmets", we can assume that he is lashing out at someone who is on a scooter because it would be illogical to wear a helmet in a car. As a result, we can understand from this line of dialogue that Melvin may not be of legal age to ride a scooter. So we can say that, maybe, Melvin is a 14-15 year old freshman.

Fatty Johnson:

I'm not going to lie to you, but I haven't found anything that would allow me to start with even the beginning of an answer. Really, I promise you, I searched his dialogues and his presentation sheet and there is nothing!! Fatty is one of the characters we'll never know exactly how old he is lol.

Here's the end of that part. Next time I will try to deal with students who are not in any group. It's going to take me a little bit of time but that part will be there. Thanks for reading! Bonne journée tout le monde!

[progmetol]

Meet the Character: Caecilus Tharn

Secret correspondence from a noble Nibenese family’s insider contact at the Battlespire, to their son, an attending student.

23 Rain’s Hand, 2E 602

L-

This is it. You’ve made it to the final showdown in the Potentials Battle Tourney. I would say it’s time for you to take home the trophy, but your competition worries your family, and to be quite honest—me as well. After your father received word of his full name, concern was sparked that lead to my instruction to perform some research. I have both went through his files and observed him from afar. He isn’t going to be a pushover. Quite the opposite, actually.

As you should know, your opponent is the notorious half-elf, Caecilus Tharn. You should recognize that he shares his surname with that of the High Chancellor and Imperial Battlemage of Tamriel—Caecilus is his son, which is extremely telling of what his capabilities may be on simply a hereditary level. Despite being rather quiet, he still displays the same ruthlessness and ambition that his paternal lineage characteristically exhibits. You can bet that this boy works his ass off—whether that be his own drive to action, or his parents beating him into doing so. The method of receiving the resulting power doesn’t matter. And don’t think it’s just the wrath of the Tharns that you’re tasting. Though she conceals it, presumably as to not invoke nepotism, this half-breed’s mother happens to be the Exalted Summoner of the Battlespire and a former Telvanni wizard. Someone you’ve certainly had a few run-ins with before. Use your best judgement.

Just like you, Caecilus is eighteen years old. However, he was prematurely onboarded to the Battlespire at a young age due to the aptitude that he showed, so he has attended longer than you. As previously conveyed, I suspected that perhaps there was some nepotism involved, given his mother’s position and father’s political influence, but I can’t imagine he’d have survived long through the rigorous training regiments that the Battlespire puts alumni through without legitimate ability. I did some digging into this to make certain, though. As an experienced battlemage myself, I can say without question that to you, this man will be a threat.

Medical documentations state that his magicka reserves have a much greater capacity than average. He is practically a living well of magicka, so much so that endurance testing has taken four times the average amount for someone of his physiology and training. I will reiterate for the sake of emphasizing importance: Four times. Heed my advice: If you try to drain his magicka, you will not have time to fully deplete you before he can impale you with steel. You cannot let this become a war of attrition—else, you WILL lose.

He is also specialized in storm calling, so classic mage-disabling tactics are going to be second nature to him. It is also incredibly likely that he will be better at countering them than most people, assuming he knows them inside and out. You need to bolster your warding spells and avoid being hit by lighting at all costs. Despite these precautions, he seems to make use of lightning magic in more unconventional ways, rather than simply calling thunderbolts. Most notably, he will intertwine lightning to enhance his weapon strikes, whether that be through his pila or gladius. He also has been seen dissipating into pure energy in order to blink around the battlefield at light speed. I suggest you keep as much distance between you and him as possible without jeopardizing your own effectiveness. Of course, this specialization doesn’t make him a one trick pony. He is still quite proficient in other forms of magic, including dark magic, a style that mimics that of the Daedra. Considering his penchant for the blade, bound armaments are something to look out for.

Even if his physical limits seem difficult to pierce, the psychological element behind dueling is still there, and that should be what you use to your advantage. I have observed his behavior for you, and I’ll admit, he was not an open book. He’s very reserved and keeps to himself—and shockingly humble. Considering he comes from some of the most arrogant names in Tamriel, this is nothing short of astronomical. To me, this implies a lack of confidence, something you could possibly take advantage of. He is also seemingly hard to impress (I propose that perhaps his lacking confidence is from being unable to meet his own standards?). He is very cautious in every aspect of his life and seems to take care in making sure things are performed correctly. Despite these proclivities, he does not have an unblemished behavioral record, and has been known to occasionally lash out violently when something doesn’t go his way. In short, he’s a perfectionist.

I’ve also reviewed his past duels in this tournament and I suggest you do as well, as they provide a lot of valuable insight that isn’t illicit like what I’ve provided you. In summary, I’ve picked up that he tends to learn very quickly in the heat of the moment, and is able to adjust tactics accordingly. You need to be unreadable, unpredictable. Make erratic movements, juke your attacks, make false telegraphs—anything to keep your fighting inconsistent.

It’s up to you to figure out the rest. I’ve provided you with a foundational advantage, it’s now up to you to adapt your fighting style into a winning strategy. And mind where you leave this letter, will you? I don’t think your parents would appreciate your expulsion, nor would I appreciate mine own.

-G

[th3-0bjectivist]

Dear listener, if you’ve never heard of Aphex Twin before, cling fast to your genitals. Because, like a 2500-volt shock straight to the testes, you’re going to find this musical entry quite shocking! Before you smash play on the music video above, I will immediately attempt to dissuade you from viewing if 1. You are the faint-of-heart type 2. You have a medical condition that is triggered by strobe lights. I don’t want you to have a series of elaborate seizures. Go figure; you’re my fuckin’ audience. I don’t want to kill my audience on Tumblr just so it’s clear. At least, not this week. For the rest that remain; if you've never seen an AT video before, the time for your distressing and traumatic cult initiation is NOW. Smash play on the track above; it's Come to Daddy from the 1997 album of the same name.

OMFG… this guy is hot AF. I was personally introduced to AT about two decades ago through one of my stoner friends who went to basement raves to dance with glow sticks. At the time, I really didn’t understand what the hell I was listening to. A lot of it just sounded like disorganized and cobbled-together noises. However, my musical tastes have evolved, and in hindsight, I can fully acknowledge that the music of soloist and Ireland-born Richard David James was simply beyond my comprehensive grasp as a young adult. He is and was a true pioneer in the music industry, having the aptitude and talent to bring a brand-new type of music to bloom in the 90’s, that being IDM (intelligent dance music). IDM, by my understanding, is derivative of breakbeat, techno, and acid house… but pushed to the very edge of experimental extremes. It is dance music (you CAN’T dance to a lot of it unless you want to have spasmodic fits, it’s honestly more proper for exercise/home environment listening) that is custom-tailored for a very discerning and clever audience, and I find that a lot of IDM sounds itself like a living, breathing entity. What AT brought to the table was a uniquely charismatic, versatile, and in some cases downright emotionally impacting experience that I cannot in good conscience declare as useless. It is the polar opposite of generic modern melodies, as AT pushed and continues to push the envelope of modern music to its most illogical boundaries. Probably my favorite feature of AT’s overall sound is the asynchronous beats, which, while not in any way traditionally mathematical or ‘correct’ in timing, is a genuine example of that tonic path that Aphex Twin and IDM as a genre have to offer. AT does whatever others are afraid to try, and the overall discography runs the gamut from shy electronic ambient to full-on head-banging badassery. Enjoy, and there will be far more music to come this year!

If you care to pursue the actual emotional range of AT’s music, click just above for one of the most (if not THE most) emotive ambient tunes I’ve absorbed in my lifetime, Rhubarb from Selected Ambient Works Volume II (1994). And if you’re really, really in the mood to traumatize yourself, click here for one of the most disturbing music videos I’ve seen in my lifetime. I wanna make it clear, IF YOU CLICK ON THE IMMEDIATELY PREVIOUS LINK, I am in no way responsible for the mental damage it does to you as a result. YOU... are by your own free will and accord, willingly clicking on the link. I am merely providing you a path, in fact multiple paths, to explore Aphex Twin’s sound further. Image source: https://testpress.news/na-klassiku-aphex-twin-windowlicker-v-anglii-snyali-sotsialnuyu-reklamu-bezopasnoj-ezdy/

[mega-aulover]

A S. W. A. N. Story

This is for the wonderful @alwayseverlark who is always finding ways for this fandom to unite. I am grateful for your friendship and for your encouragement. Thank you for all that you do!

Special thanks to @lemonluvgirl87 for betaing :)

T rating for some bullying family disputes - family drama-meet cute - elitism - A modern AU of an Everlarked Cinderella....but with out the whole shoe thing.

Summary: Katniss Everdeen is a smart girl. Brilliant, actually. She has more degrees than she has fingers on one hand. But she has never felt beautiful or interesting. When she is asked to be Madge's maid of honor Katniss has serious doubts she'll fit in with her childhood glamorous friend. Will she survive the wedding and find love? Or will she be a total embarrassment.

Katniss sighed as she looked at her image in the mirror. At 24 she wasn't the typical girl in her mid-twenties. For one, she had a masters in the field of botany and another in Environmental Biology, with two minors- one in Paleontology and another in Genetics. She had several papers published in prestigious medical and scientific papers and was one month away from getting her doctoral thesis reviewed.

Though none of her academic success wouldn't have happened had it not been for Mrs. Swanson. At the age of eleven Mrs. Swanson saw that Katniss wasn't interested in what was being taught. Her teacher suggested Katniss take an aptitude test to see if she had any learning difficulties. Her scores for the test showed that Katniss did not have learning difficulties, she was in fact a smart brilliant child.

Katniss was next given the national IQ test to see her acumen. Mrs. Sawanon believed Katniss was smart. Her high scores were surprising. As a result she was skipped from the sixth grade to high school. Katniss qualified to be instantly enrolled to the University of Panem on a scholarship when she turned sixteen.

Because of her genius, Katniss often found it difficult to interact with people. Unless she was truly comfortable, she didn't talk, and she often felt left out in social situations.

The weekend wedding, she was going to be part of, scared the living daylights out of her. It's why it was important this weekend, everything went smoothly.

Critically she examined herself in the mirror. She wore comfortable green cargo pants with the hems rolled up because she was short. Her white t-shirt was clean, her sneakers were new. Katniss slipped on a loose heather gray knit sweater as they were going to take a flight and planes were often cold.

Katniss grimaced at her reflection one more time giving herself a pep talk. "You're going to be alright, Everdeen. If it gets too much you can always take a walk."

Walking helped center her and it would also help her not stuff her face. Food was her drug of choice, when things became bad.

Katniss still had about ten pounds to lose. She'd gained a lot of weight during her undergraduate years. The University of Panem, located in the heart of the Capitol of Panem, was surrounded by an urban concrete jungle and she didn't have the ability to hunt or hike.

During that time Katniss learned she needed the outdoors to help her cope with the stressors of life. The gym wasn't something that motivated her and so she gained a lot of weight on her petite frame.

"Don't forget to pack your contacts," Prim yelled from the guest bedroom. "Madge does not want you to wear your glasses!"

Katniss rolled her eyes pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her contacts were packed, as Madge dictated. Anyone who was considered a plane Jane knew that removing their eyeglasses didn't turn them into automatic beautiful swans. She wasn't pretty, she was dull and uninspiring. No one would ever wax poetically about her physical appearance. Though, with a bow and an arrow in her hands, Katniss transformed into something powerful and unstoppable.

She sighed, "Too bad there isn't going to be an archery contest this weekend."

Katniss turned around and walked into her bedroom. She lived alone in the Capitol these past two years. Her sister traveled from the university she attended in District One so that they could travel together to the wedding destination. Katniss hoped that this weekend things would change for her and Prim. She wanted them to somehow grow closer. This wedding could be the jumping point for new horizons. Things had been rough between Prim and Katniss. Katniss hoped being accepted by Madge and her sister's friends, maybe just maybe Prim would see she was worthy.

Katniss sat on the bed briefly and picked up the framed photo of her parents. It was one of the few mementos she had of her fathers. Her father, the late great Jackson Everdeen was a well-respected archaeologist, and he took them on adventures all over the world. He wore a hat and leather jacket like Indiana Jones.

Then he became ill.

When he died, Katniss's entire world turned upside down.

Turning sixteen and losing her father while finishing her last year of school was not easy. Her mother became depressed, and the bills piled up. It was up to her to take the mantle of adulthood. Katniss learned how to budget for money. She sold things on Craig's list to make ends meet. While most girls her age were at the beach, she was preparing dinner and lunches for the week, mowing neighbor's lawns for extra cash, and buying groceries. With the help of a friend of the family, Katniss convinced her mother to get help. Her mother slowly came back but she was never the same.

By the time August came around, Katniss was considering not entering University. Things were just starting to turn around, and her mother's mental health was important. But her mother pushed her to leave. Katniss suspected her mother was relieved when she left to study at the Capitol. Her mother never cried when Katniss left. There wasn't pride that her eldest was going to university. There was a feverish desire to get rid of her.

Katniss supposed that she was a living reminder of her father Jack, and her mother hurt to see her. It was this discovery that caused her to leave her home.

While her mother recovered and blossomed; for Katniss, living in the Capitol was hard. It was a stressful transition from the gentle rolling hills and mountains of her home district to the frenetic energy of a city full of towering buildings made up of glass, steel, and concrete. The only green to be found was in the clothing people wore.

Katniss threw herself into studying and working to maintain herself while in the Capitol. She made sure to put aside any extra money for her sister. Katniss saved a nest egg to fund Prim's education.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Prim asked, frowning. She placed her hand on her hip. Prim was clad in a short bubbly-pink slip dress, and mile high heels.

"It's freezing outside."

"But we're going to a tropical island."

"We're going to be in the air for nearly five hours. And we'll land at like five in the morning. I want to be comfortable."

"You'll look like one of the servants."

Katniss looked down at her outfit and sighed. She wondered where her sweet little sister had gone. When she graduated and came home Prim was all grown up. Her sister had transformed into a great beauty just like their mother. "But I'm comfy…"

"It's horrible," Prim said, her fist curling. "You've got to change, or at least take your hair out of that stupid childish braid."

"There isn't time."

"Just don't embarrass me," Prim huffed.

Katniss looked down at the picture in her hand. "I'll stay out of your way, don't worry."

Prim stomped away. Katniss could hear her sister say, "I don't know why Madge made you a bridesmaid."

Katniss expelled a deep breath before putting her picture back on her bedside table.

Madge had asked both Prim and Katniss to be in her bridal party. Katniss was surprised. She and the Mayor's daughter sat together during lunch back in high school, they didn't talk but they were friendly. Katniss was flattered until she met the other bridesmaids. All of the bridesmaids including her baby sister were tall slender modelesque blondes, with fair complexions and pale blue eyes. In contrast Katniss was short, with dark hair, gray eyes, and olive skin complexion.

Once again, she felt as if she didn't belong. The first time she'd felt this way was the spring she'd graduated from her undergraduate program and returned home for one summer.

Prim and her mother were a team, Prim inherited her mother's looks and bubbly personality. Katniss looked like their father and had his fire and frightening intelligence. Her mother refused to engage with Katniss. Instead, their mother focused on Prim. She showered her baby sister with everything, while Katniss was pushed to the side.

Katniss was a fish looking out of the fishbowl not being able to participate in the life her mother and sister had outside of the bowl.

"Come on Catnip," Prim sang, knowing Katniss hated that nickname. Prim bounded out of the house. "The car is here!"

"I'm coming," Katniss muttered, she loathed being called catnip.

"HURRY!" Prim bellowed from the car.

"Okay, okay," Katniss said. It was so cold outside her breath came out in puffy white clouds. Locking up the door she ran to the car and got in. The warmth stung her cold cheeks.

"I can't wait to get glammed up," Prim said as she put her seat belt on.

The car pulled out of Katniss's driveway.

Katniss smiled thinly, wanting the three-day weekend to go well, as she had hoped.

"I can't believe Madge is getting married tomorrow night," Prim said as she hummed along to the bubbly song. "She was so welcoming to me when I was pledging to her sorority. Took me under her wing, and so did Glimmer and Cashmere who are cousins. I can't wait to see them."

"I'm glad you've made great friends," Katniss quietly said.

"I know you don't care but I can't wait to get into my dress," Prim squealed.

Katniss said nothing, as the car slipped into the highway.

"Madge said that Cinna was hand-making the dresses, it's why he sent his assistants to take the measurements," Prim chirped happily.

Katniss frowned. No assistant came to take her measurements. As per the instructions she received via email she was to take her own measurements and send them to the provided address. She'd made sure that followed all the directions to the letter, she didn't want to make anyone upset with her.

"Can you imagine, me, putting on a couture gown that's worth ten thousand coins?" Prim smiled, her eyes were bright with happiness.

Katniss didn't say anything. She settled back in her seat and tried to relax letting what Prim said go over her head.

When they pulled up to the private airport that was going to take them to the wedding destination.

Katniss's smile faltered as they got out and saw the other women who were giants, one was named Glimmer, and the other Cashmere. These women were always frosty to Katniss, but for the sake of her sister Katniss squared her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face.

Prim squealed when she saw them.

"Have you met any of the groomsmen?" Cashmere asked.

"No, I haven't met any of them," Prim said.

"They're gorgeous," Glimmer said.

No one had met their partner; Madge had gotten engaged less than two months ago. It was a whirlwind romance that led to a quickly planned wedding.

Katniss tried to keep her calm when she was left behind to take care of the luggage. All three women were talking at the same time. Their voices were a cacophony of vain prattle. On the plane, Katniss sat by herself as it took off. Five hours later they landed at the exclusive island Madge was going to get married at.

A car drove them to the house, and Katniss's jaw dropped. The white house was enormous, and it was set amongst lush landscapes. The air smelled sweet with tropical fauna. The botanist in Katniss wanted to investigate what flowers produced such a sweet scent. The elegant front porch with its roof supported by four tall columns was welcoming. The elaborate doorway was made from a native rich wood. The elegant large windows had shutters, which were merely decorative.

There was a woman waiting for them with three frosty fruity drinks.

Katniss was about to reach for one when Glimmer shoved her to the side.

"Oh, my goodness these are delicious," Glimmer said.

"I know," Prim squealed. "I'm legal here I can drink!"

"I really need to relax. I've been so stressed," Cashmere said giggling.

Katniss watched her sister giggle and nod.

Madge came out and she grinned when she saw them. "Hi, I'm glad you're here. We've got to get you guys ready for tonight. Cinna is here with his team. The guys are getting ready as we speak. Helene will take you to Cinna's prep team," Madge said.

Katniss was going to follow when Madge pulled her back.

"Katniss, thank goodness you're here, I need you to help with the flower arrangements, they're a nightmare."

Katniss smiled. "Sure."

While the others were whisked away for mani-pedis, and facials Katniss was put to work. Even though she didn't know much about bridal floral arrangements, Madge was right, the arrangements were a hot mess. Using her phone she looked up wild plants. Katniss found a few species of plants outside that could be used to better the decorations.

When she was finished with her first task, a message was sent down from Madge. Katniss was to assist the staff set up the reception, next she was told she was to help set up the cocktail hour, she was made to help while everyone was getting ready. That is how she found herself hauling chairs down to the patio.

As she was tying the decorations on the chairs that lined the wedding aisle, she heard the distinctive voices of men. She looked up to see four men dressed in tuxedos standing by the backyard entrance of the house.

One was tall with a slight build with sandy brown hair, another had thick meaty fingers, and there was another that was bronzed with green eyes. They were all handsome, but in her opinion, it was the last guy that was the best-looking one.

He had warm blue eyes and was athletic like the other guys, but his movements were graceful. There was something about him that caused her to want to give him a flirty smile. And Katniss did not flirt.

"Hey, Marvel, maybe she can get us some drinks," the one with the meaty fingers said as he pointed to Katniss.

"Cato, I don't think she'd know, she looks like she's here with the vendors," Marvel said.

"I don't think Madge would like for us to get drunk, until after we have taken the pictures," the one with the warm blue eyes said.

"Peeta's right, Madge would have our arse if we looked drunk in those pictures," the bronzed one said.

"Come on, live a little, Finnick," Cato said. Turning to Katniss the one called Cato said, "You wouldn't happen to know where the drinks are would you?"

Katniss shook her head, she was a bundle of nerves, and she couldn't answer their simple question. She brushed by them entering the house, hoping she wouldn't have to speak to them. She took her sweater and tied it around her middle. Her hair was piled up into a messy bun. She was sweaty and tired, and she still needed to take a shower and put on the dress she was sure would not fit her.

Katniss felt like she always looked like a frumpy potato sack, even when she tried her best. To her embarrassment her cousin Gale had taken her to her winter formal dance when she was sixteen. It was her father's last wish. The dress her mother had secured her was a tiered silky pink ruffled dress with high lace collar and long sleeves that were also ruffled. It was one size too big, and the color was supposed to be pink but in the pictures, it looked brown.

"Are you sure you don't know where the drinks are?" Cato pulled out a stack of coins and asked, "I can make it worth your while?"

Katniss took a step back not knowing how to make these men know that she had no idea where they would keep the alcohol.

"See I told you she wouldn't know," Marvel said.

These were the times Katniss wished she had her bow and arrow. These entitled pricks always thought they had the right to objectify women and treat them like crap.

"Leave her alone Cato," Peeta said. "Look she's just trying to earn a living okay? Just leave her alone."

"Peeta's right," Finnick said.

"She probably doesn't speak English." Marvel then proceeded to shout, "HABLA ENGLISH! ENGLISH!"

"Come on, we're wasting our time," Cato said. "We better get back."

Katniss was glad they were leaving, Marvel and Cato were idiots. Money did not buy people class.

Peeta stayed behind, as he watched the guys move on to the other side of the room. They cornered one of the waiters. Peeta turned to Katniss, "I'm sorry about them. They're not even my friends. You did a great job."

"It's okay really," she said.

"They're real jerks. I guess that makes me a jerk too, but I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with guys like me, like us." He slipped his hand in his pocket and he looked full of energy as if uncomfortable.

"Thank you," Katniss said. She smiled politely. He was a nice guy and she wished that someone like him would one day pay attention to her. She knew that it was useless to want something like this. A gorgeous guy like him would never really pay attention to someone like her. She was the help in his eyes.

"So what…"

"There you are," Prim said, looking resplendent in a floor-length chiffon gown with open crisscross back and sweetheart neckline with spaghetti straps in a lovely peach shade. "Why aren't you dressed!"

Katniss was about to respond.

"Prim," Cato exclaimed.

"Cato, I didn't know you'd be one of the groomsmen," Prim said breathily.

Katniss rolled her eyes when she realized this was the guy Prim had saved in her phone contacts as Steak. She hung back.

"So…" Peeta said. "Do you work here or are you with the rental companies?"

Katniss cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and said, "No."

"Will you be at the wedding?"

Katniss nodded, her heart racing in her chest.

He smiled at her and Katniss swore time slowed down, like in the movies.

"Do you think you'll save a dance for me?"

Dumbfounded, Katniss stared into his eyes. She saw that he was a gentle soul. Katniss felt her cheeks heat up. He wanted to dance with her and that itself was a miracle. She gave him a crooked smile, unsure what to say. It figured she'd finally meet a guy when she looked and smelled her worst. He was in a tux, looking like a gift from the gods.

Before she could answer, her sister's head snapped to Katniss. She gave her a venomous look.

"So, I'll see you later?" Cato asked Prim.

Katniss glanced to her side wondering what she had done wrong.

Her sister giggled, before purring, "I've got to go, but I'll see you later." Her sister wrapped her hand around Katniss's arm and then dragged her away.

"Prim, would you mind slowing down," Katniss said as she was dragged to a corner. Katniss could see the guys from where she stood hidden in the shadows.

"You're not supposed to speak to anyone," her sister hissed.

What her sister said didn't make sense."Prim, I was…"

Prim pushed her away and pointed at her chest."Where have you been?"

Her tone denoted more of a demand than a question. "I've been working, while you and the rest of the girls were getting dressed."

"Madge…"

"Madge was the one who sent me down there to work."

"Madge would never do that," Prim huffed.

"You know I don't lie Prim."

"I don't believe you."

"When have I ever lied to you, Primrose? Besides, didn't you notice I wasn't there with you guys?"

"You know what, it doesn't matter. What does matter is the photographer is here to take pictures and here you are ruining Madge's day."

"I was only doing what she asked me to do." Katniss wished her sister would believe her. "Prim…"

"Instead of arguing you should be worried about getting ready. Though I doubt there is anything Cinna and his team can do to make you look better."

Katniss ignored her sister's insult, having an argument would be counterproductive. Her shoulders slumped, as she took a deep sigh. "Just point me to my room so that I can take a shower."

"Fine," Prim huffed.

Katniss followed Prim down a flight of stairs down a long corridor to a room far away from the rest of the guest's rooms. In fact, it wasn't even in the same wing. "Madge didn't want you disturbing everyone's fun this weekend," Prim smirked.

The room was smaller than her college dorm room. But at least it offered privacy. "Where is the bathroom?"

"It's in the hallway." Prim crossed her arms. "You'll be sharing it with the staff."

"Okay," Katniss said. It didn't matter; she was only going to be here a few days. "I can be ready in ten, fifteen max."

"You only have five minutes."

"Okay." Katniss was trying not to get annoyed by her sisters' curt responses. She opened her suitcase and took out her shower kit.

"Don't get upset. It's not my fault you don't have time, because you were wasting time downstairs."

"Prim I wasn't wasting time-"

"You know, Madge didn't even want you to be part of her bridal party. She knew you were going to do something to ruin her day. And she was right."

"Then why am I here?" Katniss asked, shocked and dismayed by her sister's vitriol. Her eyes watered up, but she tempered down her sadness.

"The only reason you're here is because Madge's father was a friend of his…"

"You mean our father, Prim, Jackson Everdeen."

At the mention of their father's name Prim's face became stormy.

That summer Katniss lived at home; Prim never mentioned their father. There were no pictures of their father in the house. In fact, Katniss noticed their mother had taken down any pictures of Katniss as well. Any time Katniss brought up their father, Prim became upset. Katniss tried to broach the subject with their mother, but their mother shut her down.

With rage Prim ground out, "He abandoned us."

"He was sick, Prim, for a long time. He fought to get better to stay alive. I don't know what lie you've told yourself but our father didn't want to die…he loved us."

"He wasn't even a father to me."

Katniss was going to respond but Madge and Glimmer came into the room. Madge was wearing a white robe with the word bride in pink crystals, and she also had a pink sash that said the same thing. Glimmer wore the same dress Prim was wearing except she wasn't wearing heels she was wearing fuzzy slippers. It was such a silly thing for Katniss to notice as she looked into Glimmer's steely eyes.

"Prim," Madge said, looking at Primrose with kindness. Her frosty eyes flickered to Katniss momentarily. "I came to get you. I'm about to put my dress on and I wanted you to be in the picture..." Madge said with compassion, "Primypooh, Are you okay?"

Prim stood there; her face twisted in anger. "No, I'm not! She always does this…like a dog with a bone."

Madge turned to Katniss and then spat, "I don't know why my father idolizes you. You're a freak of nature, you smell like dead things, you're fat, and you're not even that pretty."

Katniss opened her mouth and shut it. She turned to her sister, silently pleading for some sort of benevolence.

She didn't understand why her sister was so mean and caustic with her.

"That man messed up my mother. Fucked her up in the head! He was selfish. He filled mother's head with the life they would have. But in the end, all she did was suffer. Our mother could have married into a reputable family. A family with means, a name, like the Mellarks or the Johnstons. Mother had her choice of men to choose from, but she made one mistake. She got knocked up with her…" Prim pointed at Katniss. "She's just like him, ugly as fuck, and always ruining things!" Prim sneered at her with so much malice, Katniss was taken aback. "My mother regretted her life with that man. Regretted having you. She said she should've gotten rid of you when she had the chance!"

Katniss stood there numb. It was like being pelted in the face with a frozen snowball multiple times.

"I told you that she's a disaster," Glimmer said.

"Ladies," a gentle voice called from the doorway.

Katniss balled her hands trying to displace her pain and hurt into that part of her body so that they wouldn't be witnesses to her tears. Part of her acknowledged she should have stayed home, said no to Madge, and made an excuse. However, the drive to fix her relationship with her sister prompted her to say yes and come.

"Oh, Cinna!" Madge's tone of voice changed, and in an instant, the countenance of all three blondes changed from irate, to ambassadors of light and happiness. "What are you doing here?'

"I'm here to get Miss Everdeen ready," Cinna said calmly.

There was a woman with him, she had aqua-spiked hair and gold tattoos above her eyebrows. Her face did not belay the tension that had to be swirling in the room.

"I'm assuming you're Katniss?" Cinna asked.

Katniss nodded, she didn't expect Cinna to be so young for a man who'd already made a huge mark in the fashion industry. Even though she wasn't a fashionista, Katniss was aware of who Cinna was. He dressed one of her colleagues when their suit was ruined. Unlike the woman who stood next to him the only decoration he had was a thin gold line over his eyelids. He was dressed in an elegant black dress shirt with gold-colored buttons and crisply pleated pants. He glanced at Katniss and his smile was gentle, and his eyes were reassuring.

"Venia, tell the others to get everything ready," Cinna said.

Venia nodded.

"There's no need…I'm afraid plans have changed." Madge smiled thinly, but Venia didn't listen to Madge, she left.

"Oh," Cinna breathed out.

"I just don't have time for…besides you've dressed my cousin who I sent you the measurements for, she looks amazing in the dress. Plus, I'm sure, you don't have anything that will fit her."

"You know, your father was the one who made the request," Cinna said. "Mayor Undersea told me, it was important to him that Jack Everdeen's eldest be present in the wedding because he saved his life."

"My father?" Madge said.

"He did?" Prim questioned harshly.

Katniss had no idea, but it was a balsam to hear that her father was a good kind man, and not the monster Primrose painted him to be to Madge and the rest of the entourage.

"Yes," Cinna said, "He and your mother were excited that Miss Everdeen was the maid of honor."

"He did," Madge squeaked out.

"So, if you do not mind, I have to make sure your father's wishes are taken care of."

"I…" Madge stammered.

Cinna smiled.

"But she has no dress!"

"Do not worry, I will make sure your pictures are wonderful. Also, Caesar Flickerman is here."

"Caesar Flickerman!" Madge squealed.

"Upon my invitation, he came to interview you and your family," Cinna said charmingly. "Your wedding is the event of the season. You are, after all, marrying a Highbottom."

"OMG, Caesar Flickerman," Glimmer exclaimed. "My mother loves him!"

Katniss wasn't sure what was going on.

"You're needed downstairs," Cinna said, winking at Katniss. "Caesar is going to set up his cameras in the bridal suite so that he can have footage of you in your dress."

"Madge, forget about her," Glimmer urged. "You have to be camera perfect."

Madge turned to Prim, "I want you to be there for the interview."

"Of course, you're going to be famous," Prim said.

Madge turned to Cinna, "Thank you so much." She turned to Katniss and her face soured. "There isn't enough magic to make her look good, but if you can do something to make her less embarrassing that would be wonderful."

Madge, Glimmer, and Prim left in a hurry.

Katniss expelled the breath she was holding.

"I'm sorry," Katniss apologized; she never intended to cause problems.

"I heard everything," Cinna said quietly.

"Oh." She was mortified that strangers had heard everything. It was one thing to be known as the black sheep of the family, it was another to have it be known to strangers. Especially important ones.

"I am going to make you look resplendent," Cinna promised.

"You don't have to, I'm not going down there." The words were thick in her throat as it closed up with emotion.

"No, don't let them win," Cinna said. "Don't let your sister treat you like that."

"But, she…" Katniss stammered as the tears she'd been battling slipped from her eyes.

"She's a bratty bitch," Cinna said. "I've met plenty of girls like her, however, I've not met a woman like you…Mayor Undersee told me how you kept your family afloat after your father died. He told me how you are the one who is paying for your sister's education, and still sending your mother a part of your paycheck. The Mayor is very proud of you, he showed me the articles you've written, and the accolades you've received."

Katniss bit the bottom of her lip to keep from balling.

"I also heard the way you worked downstairs, pitching in…" Cinna said. "You're quite admirable."

"How?"

"My friend Portia was supposed to be downstairs doing the decorations. Her plane was late, when she arrived she said she saw you handling things. You're unique, and if they could remove the stick out of their asses they'd be able to see it."

"I'm not…" Katniss was going to say she wasn't worthy, but Cinna spoke over her words.

"You are," Cinna gently smiled.

"Thank you for your kind words," Katniss sighed. She blinked and then taking a tissue from her pocket blew her nose.

"No need," Cinna said. "Just leave that behind, I have everything you need."

Katniss blinked, she believed him and left her shower kit behind. She blindly followed Cinna. Part of her wanted to run and hide. The small hope Katniss held to possibly fix her relationship fizzled. Once more she felt unloved and an outsider.

When she arrived in his suite of rooms, his assistants were all ready for her. "Everyone I'm guessing you heard what this brilliant young lady has been put through."

Venia smiled and her eyes sparkled, as she approached. "We're going to make you look better than the bride. And when this weekend is over, everyone is going to love you!"

Katniss swallowed, the fiercely determined look in the eyes of the group of people, it made her tremble. No one had ever looked at her that way. Even though she was fantastic in her field she never attended social events. Katniss was terrified to be called a phony.

"Trust me?" Cinna said.

Katniss nodded. Instantly she was whisked away to the bathroom that was twice the size of her apartment bedroom. For the rest of the time she was soaked in luxurious scented water, buffed, polished, perfumed, and peeled. The peeling wasn't great but her skin had never been softer.

She sat in a chair, her hair in a towel having lost track of time.

"What do you want to do with her Cinna?" Venia asked.

"With those eyes, smokey and dangerous," Flavius said.

"I think we should keep it basic," Cinna said, tipping her chin up. "Amplify her classic beauty," Cinna said.

Katniss couldn't believe that Cinna was saying she was beautiful. Physically she wasn't pretty but Katniss knew in the woods, she shone like a diamond.

"Oh yes," Octavia breathed. "She's such an exotic beauty, we can play up her eyes, and her skin tone. Ugh…I wish I had your olive skin tone."

"You think I'm pretty?" Katniss blurted.

They laughed.

"You really don't know do you?" Venia said.

"You're a treasure!" Flavius exclaimed. "You are so gorgeous you make all of the girls ripe with jealousy."

Venia added, "And you have a banging bod!"

"I always thought…" Katniss didn't finish her sentence, instead, she peered at her reflection. The pert nose, the weird color of eyes, the extra weight. She was forever comparing her darker skin to her mother's and Prim's fair one.

"Did you bring contacts?" Venia asked.

"Yes, Madge said I should," Katniss said. "It's in my shower kit, but I left it on the bed."

"Kist," Venia said to her assistant. "Go get all of her stuff."

"Sure thing," Kist said.

"Well young lady, it's time to get your hair done," Flavius said.

Katniss watched as Flavius quickly transformed her thick straight dark locks into bouncy waves of perfection. He parted her hair to the side and then explained he was giving her a relaxed finger wave. Her hair looked fantastic.

After putting on her contacts Venia applied her makeup as Octavia finished up her nails. Katniss wasn't allowed to look at herself while they worked on her face. When they finished Cinna held out the dress. It left her speechless.

"What do you think?"

"Cinna's it's your best design to date," Venia breathed.

The dress looked like a soft sunset. It was a floor-length strapless gown with silk organza draped over one shoulder creating a small cape.

"Are those polka dots made from fabric?" Katniss asked.

"Actually, tiny crystals were woven into little pockets throughout the dress so that when it moves," Cinna said, moving the gown. "It glitters."

Katniss gasped as the dress shimmered in the light.

"She's going to look like a Grecian goddess," Flavius whispered.

"Let's get you dressed," Cinna said.

The dress slipped over her head and within moments she was ready. Katniss wondered what she looked like. They didn't have time to do a reveal because Madge was calling.

"Just trust me you look amazing," Cinne said, winking at her. Katniss nodded and stood straighter feeling it. The dress felt amazing, softer than her favorite cotton tee-shirt.

Cinna leaned in close and whispered into her ear, "It might hurt but sometimes you have to cut the toxic people from your life."

Katniss looked at him wide-eyed. She could never cut her sister out of her life. She was so alone and having her sister and her mother even if it was hurtful made her feel part of a family.

"Ready?" Cinna said.

Lifting her chin in the air Katniss nodded and followed them downstairs.

She could hear the women talking and laughing as they were congregated by the doors. None noticed her and for once Katniss didn't care.

"Katniss Everdeen," Mayor Undersea said, coming forward with his wife.

"You look wonderful," Roberta Undersea said.

"Thank you Mrs. Undersea," Katniss said. Roberta was Edward Undersea's second wife. Madge's mother passed away a few years ago due to a botched-up plastic surgery accident. She was smart and it was well known that Madge and her stepmother didn't get along.

"I am so happy Madge had the sense to put you as her maid of honor," Mayor Undersea said. "Come and see me. I want to introduce you to a few people here. They've read your articles and want to meet the young lady who is making our world a better place."

"Thank you, sir," Katniss said.

"Oh Peeta, have you met the young lady you are going to walk down the aisle with?" Roberta said, pulling the blond man from before. Katniss could feel her cheeks warming up at the sight of him.

"Uh hi again," Peeta stammered.

"Again?" Roberta said grinning.

"Well she was helping out before," Peeta said pointing to the outdoors.

"Of course, she was," Mayor Undersea said. "That's the type of lovely young lady she is, Muriel," he called over to someone.

A woman with a dour face and critical blue eyes came over. "This is Jack Everdeen's oldest. This is Katniss."

Muriel's face turned wide with surprise. "Oh, she's the one that saved us all of that money."

"Mom," Peeta said.

"Shut up, boy. This is the type of woman I wanted for one of your brothers, not one of those bottle died blondes with the botox-injected faces. I read your article on how to save money while going green. We saved millions because of that article."

Katniss hid her smile.

"Mom," Peeta said. "She's the girl who I'm supposed to be…"

"Don't lose sight of her, she's a peach," Muriel said. "I shudder to think of you with that Glitter girl."

Mayor Undersea laughed, "Muriel we'll do lunch next week. Catch up on that golf game?"

"Why not? You'll lose," Muriel said. Turning to her son she said, "Now just stand there, give her a compliment Peeta."

"Mom," Peeta looked at her. "She's right…I mean you're gorgeous and I'd like to know if you'd go out with me this weekend?" Peeta said, rushing through his words.

"Really?"

"He's the best of the Mellarks," Roberta whispered to Katniss encouragingly.

"Well you don't have to say yes, but I just thought you should know that I also think you're also amazing. She fixed the decor earlier this afternoon."

"They had you working?" Mayor Undersee asked.

"I was helping out," Katniss said softly.

"You were the only one. I can't even tell you where the other bridesmaids were," Peeta said.

"Father, Father…" Madge called out.

"Madge dear," Mayor Undersea greeted.

Madge's lips were thinned. Despite her unpleasant attitude, Madge looked gorgeous in her princess-cut cathedral-length ball gown. It looked like she had sparkly white coral motifs on her dress. Cinna had done an extraordinary job on her gown. It was masterful, it made her look regal. "You cannot expect me to have…that woman in my wedding party."

"Now Madge," Mayor Undersee began.

"Father, I have to tolerate having her here, but now my pictures will be ruined. I mean have you seen her, she's an unattractive troll."

"Madge," her father said.

"Why can't cousin Mavey take her place, she is after all family?" Madge argued.

Katniss realized Madge didn't recognize her and she decided to keep quiet and see what happened.

"Madge, you will do what your father wants," Roberta said, and winked at Katniss. She too had come to the same conclusion as Katniss. "He is paying for this entire affair after all."

Katniss could see Madge formulating the all too familiar you're not my mother when her father cut her off.

"I told you. I did not agree with you marrying that young man, but you wanted him. So out of love, I have done all of this. However, per our agreement, Highbottom signed an ironclad prenuptial agreement. And you were to have Katniss as your maid of honor and Prim as a bridesmaid."

"But…at least Prim is presentable. My pictures will be fine with her in the back…but Katniss…" Madge looked and finally spotted Katniss.

Katniss was sure Madge would recognize her.

"Ugh, I'd rather have this woman here. She's better looking than Katniss. She will even look good standing next to Peeta."

Muriel snickered.

"Madge," her father opened his mouth and shut it, he gave Katniss an apologetic smile.

"Fine," Madge ground out. She huffed away her gown, nearly knocking down the easel with an image of her and her fiance.

"Just like her mother," Muriel muttered.

Roberta chuckled.

"I am sorry for my daughter's rude behavior." The Mayor rubbed his face. "It's my fault for spoiling her after her mother's death."

"People do funny things while grieving," Katniss replied.

"You know it was me who introduced your father and mother. He was so brilliant, like you. I was lucky to have known him."

"And if not for you, I wouldn't have married Peeta's father," Muriel said.

Gentle music began to play. A sign for all of the guests to go to their seats.

"I think I better grab my seat. Remember Peeta don't let this one out of your sight," Muriel said to Peeta.

"I think I'll join you. Edward honey, you better join Madge I think they're about to start." Roberta left with Muriel. Mayor Undersee walked away to find his daughter.

Peeta glanced around, his face was red. "I'm sorry I thought you were an employee…I didn't know you were that Katniss."

"How many Katniss's do you know?" The cheeky words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Not many," Peeta chuckled.

"So how long have you known the groom?"

"To be honest the only guy I know is Finnick. He's in the fraternity that my brother went to. I've known those guys but never really hung out with them. Truthfully I think they picked me because I'll look good in the pictures."

Katniss found herself laughing.

"Honestly I'm glad the pictures are over with. I think after this I'm going to get a ticket and go back home."

"Why?"

"I'm not wanted here. I'm not going to stick around to be around people who don't like me."

"What if one of those people were your sibling?" The question slipped out of Katniss's mouth before she could even stop them.

"I overheard the way your sister spoke to you. You were only trying to help out the bride, not ruin her day. If anything without you the decor wouldn't have been finished."

"You heard all of that," Katniss felt her face become heated. It was embarrassing for her to know others had heard her sister's demeaning words.

"My older brother was that way. I love him but we don't get along. He disapproved of everything I did. I had to walk away."

Peeta's words were like a revelation to her. Her eyes found her sister. She loved her baby sister with every bone in her body but at the moment their relationship was toxic to Katniss. The words Primrose had spoken about their father hurt. The way Prim perceived Katniss hurt. Katniss looked up at Peeta.

"I learned a long time ago that family doesn't have to be blood-related," Peeta said.

Her sister threw her head back and laughed. It was a girlish yet feminine laugh intended to allure Cato. Cinna's words came to her in that instance. Both men were correct. As she watched Prim flirt with a tipsy Cato it dawned on Katniss that her sister was no longer a defenseless little girl. She was an adult.

Her mother was an adult.

They were all adults and her mother and sister didn't need her as much as she needed them. Katniss wanted more out of life. She wanted to feel safe again like when her dad was alive. She wanted that sense of family. Peeta was right she didn't have to be related to someone to call them family.

Prim was able to care for herself. Cato leaned over and whispered something in her sister's ears and her sister gave him a lusty look. Cato grinned and as he leaned back he nearly tripped over Finnick.

"Finn, you're cramping my style…" Cato looked flushed and his eyes were a little watery.

Marvel handed Cato a flask and the man drank from it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Both of them chuckled. As they took more swigs from the flask. Marvel and Cato were clearly intoxicated.

"Marvel, Cato please find your partners," The wedding planner said. She was a redhead that looked like a fox. She wore sensible low-heeled shoes as she briskly put everyone in order.

She hovered over the group, her eyes quickly darted from looking at the tablet and looking about wildly at the group assembled.

"Peeta, would you happen to know where I can find Katniss Everdeen," the woman asked as soon as she reached them.

"I'm Katniss." Katniss said.

"Oh, I thought you were…well they said you…" The woman stammered.

"You thought I was ugly?" Katniss prompted.

"The way the bride described you…" she stammered then she took a deep breath. "We need you and Peeta to be ready to walk. I'll give you a signal to line up in front of the doors and then you march down the aisle."

Katniss smiled.

"Alright everyone please take your places," the woman shouted.

The procession began and Katniss watched a stately couple make their way through the doors. Katniss hung back as she watched the harried wedding planner try to wrangle the bridal party and the groomsmen. Katniss watched as her sister left with a drunk Cato followed by the other bridesmaids. It was finally her turn.

Katniss put her hand over Peeta's arm before taking a deep breath. There was a brief flicker of recognition as Prim recognized Katniss. Her sister's look was glacial, to say the least. Katniss stood waiting for the bride unaware of the appreciative glances she was getting from the groomsmen.

Madge floated down the aisle and did not pay any attention to Katniss; Madge was too busy hamming it up for the cameras and the audience. When the ceremony was over Katniss was glad that the reception was followed immediately by the cocktail hour and the dinner. They were waiting for the meals and Katniss was starving.

The meals were late and so the dance floor had opened up and people were dancing, and the drinks were flowing. Cato and Marvel were getting progressively louder. Waiters were walking around with small little hors d'oeuvres.

Mr. Undersea had been introducing Katniss around the room. She had more business cards in her hand than there were flowers in Madge's bouquet. Katniss saw a waiter with a silver platter loaded with bacon-wrapped scallops.

"I wouldn't eat those if I were you," Peeta said by her side.

Katniss turned around to ask why not when she saw that he had a slider in his hand. "Unless you're willing to lose some fingers I suggest you move that away from my face."

"Actually this is for you," Peeta offered.

"Oh, you're my hero," Katniss snatched the slider and with two bites it was gone.

"Katniss," Mayor Undersea called her.

"Hide me," Katniss whispered.

"Tell you what, I'll go get you food. Talk to the Mayor then meet me by the ice sculpture of Madge."

"As long as the food doesn't make me sick I'll eat anything," Katniss said.

"I'll take it you're not one of those salad queens."

"Either you cough up a salad or stop talking. I'm about to go outside and munch on the grass."

Peeta laughed. "Point taken."

"Katniss," the Mayor waived her over.

Katniss watched another waiter walk by.

"Trust me I get you the food." He winked and said, "I'll see you soon."

Katniss was headed to the mayor when a waiter got close. She was about to get an hors d'oeuvres when she was pulled back. Prim pulled her into a room where Madge was with the other girls.

"What are you doing wearing that!" Prim whispered furiously.

"Are you trying to upstage the bride?" Glimmer accused.

"Yeah," Cashmere said narrowing her eyes. 

This was a little too reminiscent of every movie where the Cinderella character was confronted by the antagonists. Over the years it could be the evil stepsisters, the mean co-workers, the popular 'it' crowd, or the disappointed family members. Katniss stood straight; she wasn't going to be beaten down.

"I'm not going to justify your behavior by letting you beat up on me. I've done nothing wrong. Madge congratulations on your nuptials. I hope you have a pleasant life and that you will never need the prenuptial agreement your father put in place. Primrose, I think it's time you grow up. I love you but I've been killing myself paying for your expenses and your education and all I seem to get from you is rotten vitriol. It's time for you to grow up. I'm not paying for your education or your lifestyle."

"Doesn't matter, mom will take care of me."

"Our mother. She can't afford it," Katniss "You're such a big fat liar. Mom…"

"Why would I lie? Do the math. Numbers do not lie. Mother hasn't worked in years. Where do you think she gets the money?" Katniss felt no victory at her words but they were truthful and were coming from a place where she put herself first for once.

"From her family. Our grandfather left her a small inheritance."

"Oh Primrose, there is no inheritance. It's been me…" Katniss wondered what lies her mother had put inside Primrose's head. "I've been the one sending money home. The one who has paid for your education, and the one who has spoiled you rotten. It's time that I stopped and let you be an adult."

"I don't believe you," Primrose spat.

"Don't," Made said. "She's only doing this because she's jealous. Jealous of you, of me, of how hot I am."

Katniss smirked, "Right."

"The only reason you're here is because of my father. I think it's time you left. Glimmer, call security. I don't want this riff-raff in my wedding."

It didn't matter at this point. Katniss was ready to leave.

The door to the room opened, and Peeta walked in. The music blasted in, and there was shouting. The room became quiet when Peeta shut the door. "Hey there you are, I was looking for you." Peeta took a look around the room, "Are you alright?"

"Yep." Katniss felt lighter than in years. She smiled at Peeta. "I was about to leave."

Peeta offered her his arm and she gratefully took it.

"Oh Madge, I forgot to tell you. You need to go speak to Cato and Marvel. They're trying to hit on the officiant's wife."

"What?" Madge said.

Peeta opened the door and there was Cato and Marvel grinding against Madge's ice sculpture.

"No!" Madge screeched as she got up and walked out with her group. Prim wouldn't look Katniss in the face.

Katniss felt a stab of pain in her heart. At this moment she wouldn't cry, she'd save that for private time. Peeta put his hand on hers and gently squeezed.

"One day your sister is going to see that her friends are not supportive and she's going to regret this moment."

"I know but it still hurts. I love her so much," Katniss said.

There was a loud yell and both looked out of the door to see Madge falling into her cake. Marvel and Cato were on the table laughing as the only thing that could be seen was her red-bottomed shoes sticking out from a mountain of cake.

"I think this is our cue to leave," Katniss said.

As he walked with her out of the room Peeta turned to her and said. "I know this is going to sound very douchey. But I flew here with my mother. She's got her bags already packed and ready to leave. I wouldn't mind giving you a ride home or having you forever with me. Did I say there was a bounty of food aboard my plane? I have cheese buns."

"That is quite the request?"

"So I take it forever, is off the table?"

"I didn't say it wasn't…" Katniss was contemplating what a cheese bun was.

"Okay, so I got my swan chance?"

"Swan?" Katniss frowned as they walked across the reception to exit. Peeta pulled her into a dance. From the distance, she saw Mayor Undersee nod at her

"You know a story without a name, this is our meet cute…"

Katniss laughed. This was her Swan story.

The End….

Epilogue Sort of…

Katniss sat aboard Peeta's private plane. After the wedding, Katniss and Peeta started dating. They were going out for a few months. Katniss had never been so happy. She missed her sister and mother, but she knew they had to learn to defend themselves and learn to live on their own two feet.

"Are we ready," Peeta's father said, clasping his hands and walking into the cockpit.

Peeta and his father were going to fly his mother and father on a small vacation in another district. She bit into one of the flaky morsels of bread. The fragrance of the melting cheese and herbs made her mouth water as she moaned. This was her third one.

"Good huh," Muriel said.

"I'd marry your son for just these," Katniss said with her mouth full of food.

"I think that can be arranged," Muriel said.

Katniss's eyes widened. "Um…"

"Mom," Peeta said as he walked on board.

"She's a good girl, and smart to boot," Peeta's father yelled from the co-pilot's seat.

"My husband is right, plus, I need some intelligent grandbabies."

"MOM! DAD!" Peeta exclaimed. His face was red.

Muriel smiled and waved the plate in front of her face. "He made them from scratch."

Peeta gave his mother that please-stop-look before saying, "I wanted to have something to eat on the flight. I was nervous about the trip."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Katniss felt guilty. "I'm eating your food."

"No don't worry, I don't mind," Peeta grinned, taking one from her hand. "Just save me one or two."

"Don't worry Everdeen…you can keep your name if you want…I just want a grandbaby, in return."

"MOM!" Peeta exclaimed.

Peeta turned to her his hand rubbing his neck, his face red, "Don't…listen…unless you know… that forever thing…that's still on the table."

Katniss grinned. "If you promised to make me cheese buns, I'll take it into consideration."

Muriel laughed. "I told you she's a keeper from the get-go, I don't know what you're waiting for."

"Mom, please…"

Katniss couldn't help chuckling. Peeta and his family were always this way. His mother was right, though about the women his brothers married. Those women were only interested in the money, that's why they were not invited.

Peeta was going to head for the cockpit when his mother winked at Katniss but addressed Peeta. "Son, why don't I fly with your father? You come back here and get to know this lovely girl, entertained."

"Are you sure?'

"I don't mind, besides this'll be a bonding time for your father and me, and your dad gets a thrill when I fly." His mother saucily said.

"I think I need my ears checked. Do you know if it's possible for that memory to be erased?"

Katniss laughed. As Peeta leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "I've been dying to do that all morning."

"Mmmm…" Katniss hummed contentedly.

"Sorry about my mom and her pushing for a wedding and a grandbaby."

"No need, she's just trying to take care of you."

"I just wish they'd let me woo you on my own," Peeta said.

"You're doing just fine, wooing me," Katniss said.

"I am?" He grinned.

"You are, and if you keep me feeding me I won't even notice the wedding."

Peeta laughed. "Alright duly noted. Just remember this moment when I propose. Because forever is on the table for us."

Katniss settled back with her plate, like a dragon hoarding a golden treasure. Her swan story was a beautiful one.

[kidflashimpulse]

as a non US american i think i need advice with this but where do y’all think YJ Jaime would study right after high school? in El Paso ? some other state? and is college the right word ? is it likely he’d live in dorms ? like honestly idg the US education system at all sometimes, even with Google’s helps 😂 and more specifically what’s he doing in third year is he probably doing any medical disciplines or aptitude tests assuming he’d want to become a dentist/doctor of some kind

i’m inclined to have him still be in El Paso because i like the idea that his Brenda Paco friendship (and some plot) forms after highschool, but idk if it’s realistic to have him go to college in El Paso or not, like idk wat considerations might need to be accounted for 🤔

p.s does it make sense for his term to start end of august… because that’s what the internet is telling me and i went with it kinda too late to go back lol

[lemony-snickers]

I pick number 7 - dealers choice!

I ❤️ you babe!

7 - envy. hello, my dear. <3 @anubisthe1 also requested this number!

Gai might not have been a particularly good sensor. Hell, most people with any sort of chakra control could sneak up on him without much difficulty.

(That didn't mean he wouldn't take them down with a single punch if they did.)

But Gai was also no fool. And he knew his friends and loved ones so well they could not escape his notice even if they possessed a genius level intellect and understanding of how to mask their chakra.

Which was precisely how he knew Kakashi Hatake had been sitting in a tree near the training fields all morning as he and his team practiced their kata.

The fact that Kakashi had not left the tree to greet them made Gai uneasy.

Kakashi knew Gai was aware of his presence. It was obvious in the way the other man kept throwing what he thought were casual glances over his shoulder while his students were engrossed in their sparring.

Gai was not a subtle person, but it seemed neither was Kakashi. Because he hadn't even bothered trying to disguise his presence. He knew it was useless, anyway; Gai would always find him even if he didn't want to be found.

When he'd woken up at that morning, Kakashi had not intended to make his way to the training grounds. In fact, he'd been solely focused on going to the Hokage Tower to demand a high-ranked mission that would take him away from Konoha for as long as was feasible.

The training grounds held too many painful memories. Too many ghosts of Team 7 laughing and squabbling and generally being a nuisance.

He'd avoided the place ever since Naruto departed to train with Jiraiya because it made Kakashi ill to see the post where he'd tied the boy during the bell test, to bear witness to the crater Sasuke had punched into the earth during their final week of training before the Chunin Exams began.

It was the same reason he'd begun taking a more circuitous route to the Konoha Cemetery in the mornings--seeing the Hospital, which used to only make his stomach churn because he hated the sterile smell and the invasive questions the medics asked, now reminded him that the only one of his students still within the village walls had found a better mentor.

Sakura and Tsuande. Naruto and Jiraiya. .... Sasuke and Orochimaru.

Kakashi could admit to himself he was not a perfect man. Could attest within the privacy of his own heart that he had not been a perfect teacher.

But for a job he had never wanted, Kakashi had also strived to be a sensei worthy of his students. Even when they argued or turned his hair from silver to grey with their asinine and unending questions, he he tried to be patient. Tried to provide them with the training and education they needed to not only survive as shinobi, but to succeed in a line of work which demanded violence and strength.

And now, instead of nursing a Naruto-induced headache or redirecting Sakura's attention from Sasuke's brooding stare to her incredible aptitude for genjutsu or trying not to think about how much the young Uchiha reminded him of Itachi, Kakashi perched in a tree like a spy, observing Gai and his team train through the fluttering leaves.

Jealousy, cold and cruel, curdled in his belly as he watched Neji haughtily correct Tenten's technique and Lee step between them, his good nature too much of a shield for their vitriol to continue.

Why did Gai get to keep his students while Kakashi was left with nothing?

It was a stupid thought, one that made Kakashi grind his lower lip between his teeth in frustration until he drew enough blood to stain the front of his mask.

Of course Gai deserved to be a sensei. He excelled in the role; had been made for it, really. Kakashi could never have been deserving of another team, not when he'd so horrifically destroyed his own. That he had allowed himself to believe he migth be was his own folly and no one else's.

Kakashi lingered until Gai dismissed his students, trying not to sneer at the hearty hug Lee gave his sensei, the curt nod Gai received from Neji, the broad smile and wave Tenten gave her teammates as she jogged away. Then, he climbed down from his perch and began to make his way home through the sparse woods around the training fields.

Gai's heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks a few moments later and Kakashi cursed internally at not having departed sooner.

"My dear Rival," Gai said, his voice unusually hushed, "I wonder if you would honor me with some company."

Kakashi sighed, in no mood for whatever nonsense Gai might have devised in an ill-fated attempt to cheer him up. Before he could answer, however, Gai had used his incredible strength to push Kakashi to the ground. Kakashi protested, legs folding beneath him until he was kneeling in the dirt and leaves.

"What the hell, Gai?"

Gai said nothing, just settled beside him, legs crossed and hands balanced on his knees as he was about to meditate.

Kakashi sighed, resigned--and, if he were honest, too exhausted to protest--and readjusted his position to match his friend's. They didn't look at one another, but their knees just touched in a familiar show of closeness. Silence stretched between them, but rather than uncomfortable, it was soothing--a reminder that they had known one another long enough and well enough for there to be no requirement to fill each moment with words; that saying nothing could as powerful as one of Naruto's overly long monologues.

At the thought of Naruto, Kakashi felt his throat tighten and he made a small, strangled noise behind his mask as he attempted to hold onto his anger and envy.

It was easier than what lay beneath them, the sadness and disappointment which threated to break through the dam of Kakashi's jealousy and wash him away.

Gai turned to look at him, but Kakashi couldn't return the gesture. So Gai simply reached out and patted his friend's back, never uttering a word.

[rjmartin11]

Earth Angel, Heavenly Boy Part 2

Pairing: Angel!Elvis & OC!black!female

Summary: After a nearly fatal car accident, a mysterious man saved the life of a young woman who believes the young man is more than what he seems.

Word Count:???

Warnings: Dr. Carpenter alert!!! Love triangle in effect.

Author's Notes: I should have mentioned this in part one. This is a slowburn, so nothing too exciting at first. Bare with me. There shall be SMUT... later.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・🪽・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Noel is taken to the hospital for some follow-up exams. The paramedics on scene checked her out from head to toe, but she needed a closer look. The first responders of the fire department whispered to one another. Noel couldn't help but hear the verbal squabble.

"How did she get out of that car?"

"No one should have survived that crash."

"She got out of that car unscaved?"

"It must be a miracle."

A miracle? Noel thinks. It had to be a miracle. She did remember praying, but that's it. God answered her prayers and healed her, but nowadays, healing takes more than thirty seconds.

At the hospital, Noel was put there every test possible. Bone scans. Brain scan. X-ray. Muscle mass. Aptitude tests to test her verbal skills and her logic skills. Being that Noel worked for the medical field, she knew these tests well. She just never dreamed or even imagined she'd be on this side of it.

It's the usually twenty questions. What's your name? What day is it? Who's the president? When's your birthday?

Noel's patient and kind with every doctor and nurse who tests her motor skills. She knows what it's like to be on the other side of asking the questions and getting push back from the patients. She wants to be the best patient, so she may go home and put this entire messy day behind her. Noel still wears her scrubs, so the staff knows she comprehends everything they're telling.

They allow Noel one moment to call loved ones to let them know about the accident. She brimg herself to call her mom yet. She'll call her when she gets home. She doesn't let work know because she can't take a chance in being called off from work. She calls her best friend, Trish. Trish freaks out and tells Noel she'll be there as soon as possible.

"The psychiatrist will be here in a moment to speak with you, Ms. Pierce," the nurse says. "Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?"

"No, thanks."

The nurse leaves the room, and Noel rests her head against her pillow. For the first time in her whole day, Noel exhales. All she wanted was to go home and relax before the work day. She closes her and contemplates her life. She thinks about how her life... ended??? A tear cascades down her cheek.

Someone knocks at the door, and she believes it to be the psychiatrist.

"Come in," Noel says, wiping away her tears from her face and sits up.

In comes a handsome stranger in fireman outfit. He's tall and medium muscular built. He's head is shaved. His carmel coated skin is gorgeous, and when Noel looks closely at his eyes, she notices they are spring green.

"Hey, Ms. Pierce. Do you remember me from earlier?" He asks, walking into the room.

Noel blinks at the thought. He was just too handsome to forget. Who was he? He wasn't he her hero. Was he part of the fire department that helped at the accident sight?

"Hmm... is it Clark?" She asks.

"It's Zeke," he says, walking closer to her.

"Zeke. How may I help you?"

"So, we went through your car and retrieved some of your personal effects," Zeke says, handing her a bag that contains her cellphone, wallet, and keys to her home.

"Thank you. Zeke," she says, taking her things. "You know you could have left this with the nurse, and they would have brought this to me. Why did you decide to personally give me my stuff?"

Zeke bites his bottom lip and says, "I... want to personally see how you were doing. Then I wanted to ask you for your number."

Noel bites back her smile.

"Well, you're bold, sir."

"No, I just believe that life's short. There comes a time to take risks. Don't you think?"

Noel sits quietly for a moment, thinking Zeke's words. The thought crossed her mind. It's been a year and a half since she allowed a man to be close to her. She denied herself any physical pleasure. She threw herself into work and focused on her weight. Exercising and health eating. Maybe it's time to find love again.

"Why not?" Noel says, pulling out her phone and handing it to Zeke.

Zeke puts his number in and calls his number so it's saved in his phone.

"And save me in your phone as Noel, please?" She asks.

"Noel. Got it," Zeke says, grinning at her.

Another knock comes at the door, and in comes the tall man in a suit complete with a stethoscope. Noel is taken aback the appearance of this man. His face is chiseled and sculpted. He has a head full of dark hair and a lean figure. Whatever he wanted, Noel would would give it to him.

"Good evening, Ms. Pierce," he starts. "I'm Dr. Carpenter. The psychiatrist here at Southern General."

"Hello," Noel says. "Uh, Zeke. We'll chat later I'm sure."

"You bet," Zeke says, waking out the door but not being eyeing Dr. Carpenter.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you and your friend," Dr. Carpenter said. "But the sooner I examine you..."

"The sooner I get home."

"You got it."

Noel sits up on the side of the bed as Dr. Carpenter pulls up a chair. He hadn't ever spoken to Noel, but he started scribbling in his notebook. This made her nervous. What could she have possibly done in thirty seconds to make him write so soon.

"Stop worrying, Ms. Pierce. These are my notes I'm writing. Just simple things, really. Your name. The date. The time. Case number," he stated.

"Oh," she sighed.

The doctor looks up at her from his notebook and says, "I'm sure been asked this a hundred and one times night, but..."

"Here come one O two," she sasses him.

He giggles a little at her jest; Noel just to see his beautiful smile. It lights up the room and a part of her soul.

"Well," he begins, "for the sake of getting each part of the story correct, this is necessary."

Noel nods her head in understanding.

"So for the hundred and second time, what happened?" Dr. Carpenter asks.

"I was driving home. The roads were wet. The other person came in my lane. I swerved out of the way. The car hit the back side of my car. The water on the road caused my car to hydroplane. My car flipped. The next thing I remember..." She pauses.

"What? What do you remember?"

She remembers being wrapped in some sort of feathery warm blanket. The pain she felt was over. The blue eyes on the face of the guy who pulled her out of the car. She couldn't make out his face. He touched her face with his warm fingers.

"I remember the medic trying to wake me," she lied.

She couldn't share the rest.

"The medic said that you said someone pulled you out of your car. That car was damaged pretty badly."

Noel looks away from him. "I shouldn't have survived. Is that it?"

"No, Ms. Pierce. That's not..."

"The other driver?" She cuts him off. "Are they okay? No one's told me if they were? If he or she or they... I feel so selfish for not asking."

Dr. Carpenter sees the concern in her eyes.

"He..." He starts. "Is currently in the ICU."

Noel covers her mouth in shock. "No."

"He was drunk driving, and as you stated, the roads were wet." Dr. Carpenter says.

The guy in the ICU could have a family and friends. She can't blame him. He could have been having a bad day. She knew what that was like. It could be her in the ICU.

Tears start to fall down her eyes to her cheeks. It's a mixture of relief, fear, and sadness that haunts her now. She looked down at the radio for only a moment. Nothing longer. But she was sure she died. She recalls being suspended in the air and the peaceful liberation that came with it. Then, she was guided back to her body.

Dr. Carpenter pulls out a napkin for Noel to wipe her face.

"Thank you," she said, taking the napkin and drying her eyes.

Dr. Carpenter gently lifts her head, causing Noel to look into his eyes. His beautiful cerulean hues. They remind her of her rescuer.

"You mind if I examine your neck for a moment?"

"No. Not at all," she breathes.

He inspects her neck and moves it gently from side to side.

"Do you remember hitting your head at all?" He asks.

"I do."

"Something else happen you'd like to tell me about?" He whispers.

"I..." She hesitates. "You'll think I'm crazy."

"What's said in this room stays in this room. Between us."

"I think I... died. I felt pain. Excruciating pain, then it was all over. I was out of pain. I saw a light, but it was like a will o the wisp. Small light. I was going to it. Going to peace. Then someone called me back here. To live because my life wasn't over. I felt this blanket of warmth surround me like feathers. When I opened my eyes, I saw his blue eyes, but he was out of focus. Then he put me to sleep. The next thing I know, the medic is waking me up."

Dr. Carpenter remains quiet as she tells from about her outer body experience.

"Sir, do..."

"Elvis. My name's Elvis," he interrupts her.

"Elvis. Do you believe in God?"

"I do."

"I think... I actually have a guardian angel looking out for me."

"Hmmm."

"I swear that's the truth. Honest."

"I believe that you believe it."

Noel nods her head and says, "And that's all that matters."

"Look, Ms. Pierce..."

"Noel."

He smiles at her.

"Okay. Noel. You went through a near death experience. Your life is going to change. You may see things. You may start asking questions like, "Why me?" "Why am I still here?" I hope you ask the correct questions, which are, "How can I use this second chance?" "What can I do with this second chance?" "What have I not done?"

"And, Noel. You're going to need someone to talk to," he said, pulling his card from his jacket pocket. "Call me when you need someone to speak with."

Noel took his card and considered what he was saying. She was already questioning herself, but most of the time, she suffered in silence. Most didn't want to hear what she had to say, so she kept her opinion to herself.

"Elvis, you seem like a great doctor, but I can't afford you."

"Did I say anything about payment?" He questioned.

This comment stops Noel in her tracks. If he doesn't want money, what does he want?

"That's too generous. What do you get out of talking to me?"

"You could use a friend. What if I told you I had a near death experience?" Elvis asks.

Noel looks at him for a moment. There's a silence between them, hanging in the air so one could cut it with a butter knife. Then all of a sudden...

"Noel!" Trish bursts through the door, running to her friend.

Elvis scurries out the way. Trish wraps her arms around her friend, tears in her eyes.

"Nole, I saw the car and feared the worst happened to you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Noel says, looking upon her friend's face. She wipes her face with the napkin Dr. Carpenter gave her a moment ago.

"I'll leave you ladies alone," Elvis says, leaving the room. "And Noel?"

They look at him.

"Think about what I said, please."

Dr. Elvis Carpenter walks out of the room, Noel and Trish to talk.

"What do you need, Noel?" Trish asks. "What do you want to do?"

Noel sighs and says, "I just want to go home."

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @eptodaytommorowforever @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @dreamingofep @aliypop @littlehoneyposts @msamarican

[vomitdodger]

Long and thorough article. Choice paragraphs below showing every step of the way is compromised:

“In May 2021, the AMA released its Organizational Strategic Plan to Embed Racial Justice and Advance Health Equity, “dedicated to embedding racial justice” in all medical practice. Among the plans key priorities is one whose implications for medical education and medical school admissions are readily apparent: “Develop structures and processes to consistently center the experiences and ideas of historically marginalized (women, LGBTQ+, people with disabilities, International Medical Graduates) and minoritized (Black, Indigenous, Latinx, Asian and other people of color) physicians.”

The medical profession’s leaders, almost without exception or dissent, now vigorously enforce this new orthodoxy of anti-racism. Most notably, they have designed and implemented a new version of medical education explicitly grounded in ideology rather than scientific excellence. In pursuit of this project, the president of the AAMC (which accredits U.S. medical schools) and the chair of the AAMC’s Council of [Medical School] Deans stated publicly in July 2022: “We believe this topic [Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion] deserves just as much attention from learners and educators at every stage of their careers as the latest scientific breakthroughs.”

The AAMC’s DEI Competencies, issued in October 2021, details the new required social justice skills that medical students must acquire. In addition, the AAMC has discouraged the use of the rigorous Medical College Admissions Test (MCAT) as a filter to help select medical students. Dozens of the 158 allopathic (MD granting) U.S. medical schools have made the MCAT optional. Several medical schools, including the prestigious University of Pennsylvania, have programs to admit students from designated “underrepresented” identity groups without requiring the submission of MCAT scores at all. The MCAT itself has been revised to include social justice questions that are easy to ace because the answers are always the same: structural racism is the cause of any group disparities that disfavor underrepresented groups. But even this re-engineered test shows persistent group disparities in test scores, which means that Asian applicants must score almost 4 times higher than black applicants to have an equal chance of admission.”

The MCAT was the only aspect of the entire application process which demonstrated true aptitude for a science/medical based curriculum. And they’re largely doing away with it.

And it isn’t just medical schools. The indoctrination and dumbing down of standards continues through residency/fellowship and practice. Example: This is how certain hospitals come to the forefront to promote the trans mutilation. Brigham and Womens Hospital in Boston being one of the worst.

Emergency Medicine is another example. EM is represented by ACEP:

👆the president of ACEP (black female naturally-not a racist comment-just an observation for a demographic that is less than 5% of emergency medicine physicians) actively OPPOSES that anti-DEI legislation.

And to prevent trolls citing the usual lazy dumb denial of sOuRcE???? for that 5% statistic, here it is:

[triplesilverstar]

A dream that's like a far off memory, or a nightmare

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Body dysmorphia, Pre-Canon, Illnesses, Major Illness, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Experimentation, Medical Examination, Dreams and Nightmares, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Fever, Running Away, Communication Failure, Soft Vash the Stampede, Mild Smut, Not Beta Read, Heartbreaking, Imprisonment, Dark Past, Murder, Cartoon Physics, Vashs' Coat as a blanket, Needles, Nightmares

Word count: Roughly 3K

A/N: Chapter Three of Even sand can't hide all the skeletons in your closet. This one shows a lot of the past for Snipes.

Once the laboratory equipment went off, Luida went about her work prepping the culture and placing it into a needle and switching out the IV bag with the added nutrients for a new one containing the culture, injecting it into the pouch, and giving it a few shakes. 

Eyes filled with warmth as she worked, Vash had fallen asleep at some point while reading and keeping you company. Snoring away with his hand on your head, the tablet having fallen from his fingers between his thighs. 

Work done, Luida removes two sheets from other gurneys in the room, draping one over Vash before ever so gently adjusting you so your head is back against his thigh. The second sheet is placed over your own slumbering form and tucked around you. “When you next wake up you should be starting to feel better.” 

Something doesn’t feel right. Not right at all. As you wake up you hear birds chirping. Songbirds.

There aren’t any songbirds on Noman’s land. 

Opening your eyes you’re greeted by the sight of a well lit room, the sun rays beaming in through the floor to ceiling glass panes, gently warming your skin. 

This is wrong. 

Sitting up and looking around it, taking in your surroundings eats at your soul, but the tears don’t fall, no matter how much you want to cry out in anguish. You’re in your bed from when you were a teenager. And in the mirror on the other side, you stare into the reflection of a set of young eyes. Eyes that hadn’t been broken by the weight of everything you had done, everything you would do.

A blaring next to you, as your alarm clock goes off, the date flashing in the air as you slam your palm over it. You know what today is. 

Suddenly everything moves faster, and you’re sitting at your kitchen table having breakfast. You want to howl. You want to scream, you want to break everything in sight. Your body keeps moving on autopilot, spooning scrambled eggs into your mouth and listening to your parents speak. 

You see them. Yet you don’t, their bodies blurry outlines, faces nothing but swirling static, voices warbled and wrapped that you make out the words but can’t remember their voices. 

“I just don’t think they have the right to show up and tell us they’re here to run the aptitude tests.” Your mother. Right now all you can remember is how people used to say it was like she was made of steel. Unbend, unyielding. Yet, she used to sing to you, a skill you never inherited. “We aren’t one of their colonies.”

“Honey. It’s not like we can stop them, we might not be one of their colonies but they provide financial support for the terra forming core. You know. The place you work.” Your father. The voice of calm in the storm that was your mother, nothing had seemed to phase the man. He used to say it was because farmers couldn’t make the crops grow, just help them along. “Besides, Kiwi here is gonna blow them all away.”

You can’t feel the touch of his fingers on your head, ruffling your hair. God how you wish you could, they should have felt rough, covered in callus from working in the greenhouses. Swatting at his hand “whatever Dad. More like flunk like everything else.”

“You’re smart in your own way Kiwi, don’t let those teachers tell you otherwise.” For a moment you can see it. That megawatt smile your father had that could light up any space, could make everything seem brighter. The eternal optimist. “Alright finish up and we’ll get going.” 

Another jump, as the world speeds on until you’re leaving the modular home. Stopping as you look at the flowers swaying in the breeze, small cornblue petals with yellow centers. Scowling as your father wraps a toned forearm around you, laughing in your ear, wishing you could have returned that hug instead of being a haughty teenager. “Maybe I should start sending you to school with forget-me-nots” 

“Gee. You’re so funny Dad” feeling the sensation as teenage you rolls your eyes. 

Jumping forward, watching the day like it’s a movie being fast forwarded, until you’re told it’s your turn to sit in the simulator cockpit of the aptitude test. A giant machine that has monitors on the outside to see how others do. So far the max anyone has lasted from those being tested is two minutes. You're certain you’re going to flunk as badly as you did the written portion, have the questions having meant nothing to you. 

Teenage you has no idea why they’d be testing for reaction times in a fake flying simulation in a real simulator used for pilots. 

Adult you knows. All too well. 

Strapping in and watching the blurry man press a few buttons, and you remember his smile, a smile that makes a stone drop in your gut and a shiver run down your spine. It had left you feeling greasy. As the simulation begins, you’re told you just need to fly for as long as you can. As the screens change, the man with the creepy smile walks outside and closes the panel, something inside of you flares to life, hand on the center stick and engine controls. The world around you disappears and before you know it, you’ve gone far past the time any of your classmates have lasted. Time has no meaning. 

This isn’t part of the dream. 

You remember this. Remember the weight of the flight seatbelt, the headset of the simulator heavy on your small cranium. 

It was the first time you felt your heart soar, that feeling of complete control, that the world was at your fingertips. You were untouchable, sitting in that cockpit strapped in and flying through the skies. Simulation shifting to flying through sea stacks? A grin broke out across your face, jerking the controls hard enough to spin the view so you sideways. 

The noise of one of your classmates hurling while watching so distance it’s lost in the sound of roaring engines from the simulation. Another change in the simulation, flying through a narrow canyon, unaware the simulation is forcing the gravity of the chair you're strapped to to change. To make you feel the pull of the G Force as you take the turns at high speed. 

A voice in the background. “She’s almost at the end of the simulation.”

“Switch her to the second year pilot program. I want to see if this is just luck.” 

Your chest feels tight, pressure building and the obstacles are tighter, but your blood is pumping, and you start to laugh low in your chest. The exhilaration gives you a natural high and you do hear retching reach your ears as you make a far tighter turn. 

Gravity is getting harder to account for, but your fingers keep hitting controls making adjustments. A part of you seems to just know how much to cut an engine by to make tighter turns and re-engage them. 

“This will fuck her up.” Outside almost all the students are pushed aside as those performing the aptitude tests are watching. Something you had learned from another student later.

An engine stalls. Your body lurches in the capsule, stomach wanting to heave your lunch to the ground. A bellow from your lungs. You aren’t done yet. You don’t know how to restart the engine, but you’re still flying, body taking far more strain with only half the propulsion systems working. Before an obstacle arises you can’t avoid, pulling the stick back as far as you can trying to climb before smashing into the sheer cliff. 

Simulation over. 

Yet not because you crashed. Feeling the world careen as everything goes dark, pulled from the chair and emptying your stomach on the ground. Your father is there. Patting your back, why is he here? Gaze landing on the timer that you had watched for the other, even nauseous and sweating you’re grinning like a mad woman. 

One hour twenty four minutes forty three seconds. 

A voice screaming at those in charge of the simulation aptitude test breaking through the haze starting to take you. “What were you thinking? If even thinking? Max time allowed for any student ten minutes. Don’t care how well doing. Limits in place for reason!” 

The dream shifts. You’re surrounded by darkness, a voice you don’t know, but it sounds like the man from the aptitude test. 

“Listen I don’t care, she’s what they’re looking for! Tag her so in a few days we can find her, no one is going to miss some scrawny kid that even the adults of the colony are saying just had good luck.” 

You don’t remember anything like that happening, just blacking out to the sound of voices screaming before coming too. Maybe it’s because of what you know later, when you learned more about what had happened to your parents in your damning quest for revenge. 

Another shift, this time to you waking up in the colony infirmary, a strange man sitting across from you. Well he’s strange to you right now in this moment. Later in life you know him far better. You know him as the man who saved you from drowning in your quagmire of self hatred, who offered you redemption in a way you could see it, your savior. 

Sheppard. While the face isn’t quite as you remember, younger, the first meeting you’d forgotten about till you were hanging in chains in that prison cell after trying to die killing the council.

“Worried for moment. Teenagers not meant to be in simulation that long, damage to cerebral cortex possible, bone density, sense of equilibrium. Glad woke up.” The way he speaks has you reeling, unsure if this was from back then or the years you spent working with him. 

Before you can say anything the blurred form of your parents arriving, your mother pulling you against her in an embrace. “You had us worried sick!” Her fingers running through your hair, soothing away the fears that had gripped you as a teenager. Hearing her tone shift as her wraith was turned on who was a stranger to her. 

“How could you have let this happen?! She could have died. What kind of bullshit was that?!” All you do as you listen is rest your head against her chest, aware you should be able to hear her heartbeat but you can’t. Another reminder this a dream and you just want to wake up. You don’t want to relieve all of this, not when your life seems to be finally looking up.

“Overzealous monitor. Not shedding blame. Lucky she survived unharmed. Miraculous instincts though. High achieving student? Top of physics class?”

“I’m bad at physics” you mumbled the answer out against your mothers blurred form. 

“It’s her worst grade.” Your fathers garbled voice. 

“Interesting.” You never saw it in life but you can picture Sheppard tapping his finger against his lips. “Failure of academic system. Unaccounted hands on approach to problems. Academia requires proof of work, proof of understanding, simulation proof of inherent problem solving capabilities. Solved complex mathematical equations in head to adjust engine outputs to overcome obstacles.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your mother interrupting the random spewed thought process of the man. No doubt he had been lost in his ramblings while his brain worked out the problem and solution. 

“Answer simple. Daughter’s grades not reflective of ability.” The sound of shuffling “more interviews before departure. If later, want future in aeronautics, contact. Recommend for academy based on today.” You had no idea what any of that had meant as a teenager, later in life Sheppard had told you he regretted just having the final interviews after the events and leaving. Said he might have been able to have stopped what had happened. You remembered telling him neither of you could change the past. 

The dream shifts again, and you remember looking at your father, after what felt like hours and hours of interview. “How you feeling Kiwi?”

“Just wanna go home” you had been bone tired after that day, unaware of the future that a single test had put into motion. How in two days time your colony would be attacked, people killed, homes destroyed, others taken to be sold into slavery. And you. You would be trapped under the rubble of your home, on the verge of death before you were found.

Found broken, requiring years of surgery hearing whispers how you were just another failure and while you recovered you grew bitter with the world and if no one could provide you justice. Well you’d just find it yourself. 

You feel groggy, your mouth dry as you try to form some kind of noise, and the pain from pins and needles as you move ever so slightly telling you you’re awake for real this time.  Limbs feeling heavy as you slowly come back to awareness, the edge of your vision is blurry, possibly from the tears you couldn’t shed in your dream. Though all you can see is blackness. A blackness with wavy lines, wavy lines you realize are actually the threads of fabric held together, a warmth under your cheek. 

Breathing hard as you push yourself up on one arm, hand tingling, a sign you’ve been asleep for a while, the fuzz at the edge of your vision slowly fading thanks to your rapidly blinking as your eyes adjust. Swallowing thickly as every part of you is in pain, damn, how long have you been sick for? The last thing you remember is seeing Vash, and something is eating at the edge of your memory. Still torn from the dream of the past and the more recent days.

A needle. 

You’d seen a needle. 

Tilting your head, heart in your throat as your chest is burning, and that fear leaves you as suddenly as it came. The warmth that had been under your cheek was Vash, his thigh serving as a pillow, taking in the deep rise and fall of his chest, wrinkles in the fabric of his turtleneck. His head is lolled forward, the smallest hint of wetness at the corner of his pink lips, he’s been drooling. 

The hand not supporting your weight sliding along the floor, planning to reach out and gently shake your lover awake. Only for your hand to freeze, a tugging from the crook of your eyebrow. In the span of a few heartbeats, your eyes travel down from Vash’s face across his chest and look at your arm. 

A carefully inserted needle, held in place by a patch of thick tape with the clear tubing you know belongs to an IV leading away. The tightness in your chest starts to return, stomach churning as you feel ready to throw up. Your rational mind coming back, Vash is with you, he wouldn’t let someone just jab you with drugs or anything else, not unless you needed them. Taking deep breaths to try and calm your racing heart, you’re safe. Because Vash is here, a concept you would have found so foreign just a short time ago.

A thin line of light between Vash’s thighs grabs your attention, it looks like a tablet, just far sleeker than what you remember seeing from your adventures before Noman’s land. From the placement of his fingers, he must have been reading it before he fell asleep and it slipped from his grip as he drifted off. 

Your heart warming at the thought that he’s been keeping you company while whatever has been going on with your body. Just like after you passed out in the desert, even if it’s for entirely different reasons this time since you doubt you had a death grip on his hand. 

Careful of the IV you reach for the tablet, curious as to what Vash had been reading before dozing off into slumber. The device is cool to the touch, making you wonder if Vash has been asleep for a lot longer than you thought, all the other lights dim around the two of you. It surprises you a little just how light it is, or maybe it’s because outside of the sand steamers and plant engineers you haven’t seen many of them. Certainly not this close either. 

After a few moments of fiddling with the device, you figure out how to power it on, blinking as you're almost blinded by the brightness, and a low hiss leaving you from the pain throbbing inside your skull. 

Shaking your head you let your gaze travel back to the screen, only for your heart to feel as if it’s stopped beating inside of your chest. 

“No, no no no no” a sense of dread washing over you, every fiber of your being torn as a cold sweat breaks out that you know has nothing to do with whatever sickness you had been fighting. Were still fighting. Your heart is pounding away so hard within your chest that your ribs are shaking, fingers going numb as the device falls from your fingers with a clatter. 

You need to leave.

You need to leave right now. Clammy palm pushing your drenched body away from Vash realizing someone has draped sheets over both of your bodies, a sheet Vash must have shifted to cause it to fall. Toes catching on the smooth floor beneath your feet. 

Where the hell are your boots? Sitting back, largely freed from the sheet and missing the weight of Vash’s vibrant red coat as it slides to the floor. Finally taking in how you’re dressed. Grungy and covered in grime that comes from sweating all hours of the day caught in the vice of a sickness, and wearing your loose pajamas. 

The need to run, instincts screaming at you like a wild animal is making your heart still thunder, rational thought thrown to the wind. 

You can’t stay here, you can’t stay with Vash. Not now. Not ever again. He’s far too kind, far too wholesome and now he’ll have learned about the monster just under your skin that he thought he could love. 

Glancing around you finally notice more of the room. It’s a medical laboratory or something similar, heart rate beating fast enough you can feel the muscle hitting your ribs from the inside. He’s just here to keep you from running, to keep you docile. No one can care about a monster that kills for money. They just want to know what’s made you live so long, what’s allowed you to survive against the impossible. 

Humans aren’t meant to live this long, not without aging. 

Panting, hearing your breathing echo around the room and as numb as your fingers are you grab the tubing attached to your arm and pull. Watching the red as the needle is ripped from your skin, aware the wound will bleed, the tissue surrounding it starting to bruise already from the trauma you forced your own flesh to endure. 

Standing on shaky legs, you take a step. Then another. Seeing a familiar data chip sitting on a console next to your ruined locked cylinder, they just want to see for themselves how much you can survive. 

Heading for what you think is a door, watching as it opens into a brightly lit hallway, unaware of the mess you’re leaving behind. A trail of vivid red drops, painting a path of where you’ve been. Breaking into a run, pins running along your feet and legs from not being used. You ignore it. 

Fear.

Fear has you and your survival instincts are running the show that is your brain.

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