#prompt: genetic test results

[microcest]

microcest prompt no. 041 - genetic test results

January 8th, 2025

Microcest: Weekly Multifandom Shipcest Microfic Prompts Info / AO3 / Over 1k?: @macrocest / Oops Not Shipcest / @shipcestroleplay

[captain-huggy-bear]

Little Moments

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jack occasionally making more mature jokes cause he's just a silly guy

Summary: Jack finds out he's going to be a dad for the first time, maybe he's a little overexcited aka a collection of snapshots throughout your pregnancy.

Notes: Nonnie gave me the confidence to try writing Jack, I'm hoping it's okay...also the jelly cat mentioned is here

Nappies = diapers

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

When they ask you to take a pregnancy test at the hospital because you've been violently sick for 2 weeks, you scoff. You can't be pregnant because Jack and you haven't been trying and you've been using two forms of contraception. It's nigh on impossible for you to be pregnant, statistically speaking it's just not going to happen.

It's not that either of you don't want children, god knows you do, but you're recently married and you wanted some time to settle into that role and dynamic, the new house as well, without an additional person...especially because you knew without a doubt that once you had one, Jack would want another baby, and another, and another. You'd never be just Mr and Mrs Hughes again, it would be Mr and Mrs Hughes and their children.

It's the amount of care that you've both put in to avoiding pregnancy that makes you so certain you're not. So you expect the test to come back negative.

But, there you are...sat on the edge of a hospital bed, slippers almost falling off your feet because Jack couldn't find yours so he brought you his, staring at a pregnancy test with two clear, solid lines.

Pregnant.

Pregnant when statistically it should be improbably, nigh on impossible. Pregnant when you've been married a month...pregnant because your husband is clearly ridiculously fertile. Of course Jack would be, the amount he wants kids and family, it was probably some genetic advantage. Of course you'd marry the one guy who could knock you up when actively trying not to do so.

You don't look up when he enters your hospital room, arms full of snacks and drinks, cap on backwards keeping his hair out of his baby blue eyes. He looks far too cozy and far too sweet for a man who's about to put your body through some extreme changes.

"So, I got you some M&Ms and a orange juice..." Jack trails off noticing the way you're sat, hunched over, staring at your hands, "You okay, baby?"

"Um, I..."

"What's wrong?" Jack's quick to drop everything on the hospital bed, moving between your legs, hands smoothing up and down your thighs. His eyes dip down to the test in your hands, the two strong lines he can see, so strong that there's very little doubt what the result is. The dots starting to connect for him, you being sick for 2 weeks straight, you being tired all the time, wanting to eat foods you normally wouldn't...the ridiculous amount of sex you had on your honeymoon even though you both were using protection, "Are...are you..."

"Yeah..." You finally meet his eyes, the hopefully little look on his face makes you feel mildly better because you can see how hard he's trying to contain his excitement. It's clear from the way he bites his bottom lip, from the way Jack's fingers grip your thighs to stabilise himself.

"Well, fuck..." Even as he says it there's a little smile starting at the corners of his mouth, teeth starting to show, eyes starting to crinkle.

"Yeah,"

There's a beat of silence. You processing the fact that right now there is a human being growing inside you, part you, part Jack and him watching you for your reaction. Jack can't say he's not nervous, not when you don't look overjoyed and it's that apprehension that has him trying to get a laugh out of you.

"Guess I have strong swimmers, huh?"

"Jack!" You whack his shoulder with your hand and he catches it, thumb stroking over your wedding band even as you glare at him. He can't help but stand a little closer, your legs pushing further apart so he can fit.

"What? C'mon, that's impressive right? Condoms, the pill and you still got pregnant?" He's grinning at you proudly, like it's a badge of honour to have managed to knock you up despite trying to avoid that happening at all costs.

You groan out loud, head falling to Jack's chest, forehead pressing into the centre of his hoodie. His hands come up to the back of your head, stroking over your hair soothingly before trailing over your shoulders, down your back. He's gentle, soft with it and had you been able to see you would have seen his expression shift to one of anxious worry, apprehension at your less than excited reaction.

"A...are you...are you not happy, baby?" He's scared that you'll turn around and tell him you don't want the baby, that this isn't what you want. Sure you've talked about the possibility of kids in the future, but neither of you were expecting to have this happen right now. It's a lot for anyone, especially for the person who's body is doing all the hard work. He'd understand if you weren't happy, even though he desperately wants you to be.

"I...I'm just shocked. I want a baby with you, of course I do, you'd be such a good dad...but, I guess I wasn't planning on it right now and I'm..." You're mumbling into his chest as he strokes down your back, your arms wrapping around his waist tight to give you some sense of comfort as your entire world is turned upside down by the reality that you're going to be a mum sooner rather than later.

"You're?"

"Scared...what if I do something wrong? What if I'm a bad mum?"

"Angel, look at me," You finally look up at him, chin resting on his sternum and he looks down at you like you're talking crazy, big blue eyes wide and honest, "You are going to be amazing. You're going to be the best mum...and we're going to have a baby!"

It's his excitement, the grin that reaches Jack's eyes that has you finally cracking a smile up at him. That familiar giddy sensation of joy filling your chest because you're having a baby with Jack...with your husband and yeah, maybe this is sooner than you would have liked, but you still wanted a baby with him and...and he's so excited and he's so good with kids and you'd give him an entire hockey team of babies if he asked.

"Yeah, I hope they have your eyes." You smile up at him and suddenly all that fear, all that apprehension that you weren't going to be happy about this goes, suddenly he knows that it's going to be all good, all okay.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Mmm, you have such pretty eyes."

"Well, I hope they look like you...my pretty wife....and I'll teach them how to skate, and how to play hockey, oh and take them out on the lake in the summer!"

Suddenly it doesn't feel quite so scary, with Jack rambling about all the things he's going to do with your child and how he can't wait to tell his parents and his brothers. Leaning against him, just looking up and watching how excited he is, puts to bed any fear because you're not doing this alone, you've got your husband and it'll be okay.

Jack's got you. Both of you.

"What's that?"

"The results..." The envelope shakes in your hands as Jack comes in from the cold, taking his hat off and throwing his puffer jacket over the back of a chair.

"The...the sex of the baby?" You'd done a blood test 2 weeks ago to find out the sex of the baby, too eager to wait another 2 months for the ultrasound to be able to tell.

"Mmhmmm...I'm too nervous, you open it!" You shove the envelope into Jack's hands. Even though you'll be happy with a boy or a girl, there's something about the anticipation that has your stomach in knots. Were you going to be like Ellen and have a million baby boys or would you be the exact opposite and only have girls or would you end up having both at some point?

You watch him carefully, hands at your mouth, nervously biting on a nail as he rips open the envelope and pulls out the letter. His eyes scan the text quickly, giving very little away until...until there's a shift, a raising of his eyebrows followed by a bright grin as he looks at you.

"We're...we're having a girl..."

"A girl?"

"A girl!" He's so excited that the letter is dropped to the floor almost as quickly as his own knees fall to the ground in front of you with such a resounding smack that you wince on his behalf. He's pressing his cheek to your tummy in an instant, even though it's not very large yet at all, barely a noticeable bump.

"Hey, baby girl..." You can't help the tears that start to form as Jack starts to talk to your belly, to the baby, to your baby girl, "It's your daddy here...I'm going to teach you how to play hockey and we're going to get you in the NHL, show all those boys what for, right?" Your hands find their way to Jack's hair, stroking through it as he talks to your belly, his arms wrapped tight around your hips.

"Not the PWHL?"

"Uh, we're a family of record breakers, angel. She's going to the NHL like Manon Rheaume and she's going to be there until she retires." He grins up at you, teeth showing as you brush a strand of hair off his forehead and back out of the way.

"What if she doesn't want to play hockey?"

"Then I'll love her anyway..." He turns back to your belly, talking in a soft, sweet tone, "don't worry, baby girl, you can do whatever you want. I don't care if you hate hockey, as long as you're happy..."

You can't help the tear that slides down your cheek because how lucky are you? How lucky is your baby girl? To have a dad who doesn't care if she hate everything he loves, as long as she's happy, as long as she's healthy...god, she's so loved already.

"Okay, don't look, close your eyes!" You roll your eyes underneath Jack's palms.

"You're covering them, why would I need to close them?!"

"Just do it, angel!"

"Fine!" You close your eyes beneath his palms, trusting him to keep you from walking into a wall as he guides you through the house from the living room all the way to wherever his final destination is.

"Lift your foot, baby." He helps guide you up the staircase, hands on your hips that had started to grow wider as you progressed through your pregnancy. He always had a hand on you these days. He was trusting that your eyes were still closed as he ushered you up each step.

When you reach the top of the stairs his hands return to covering your eyes and you shuffle down the corridor until he tells you to stop. You listen to Jack opening a door, probably propping it open before his hands find yours, tugging you forward and to the threshold.

"Okay, open your eyes, baby." You practically gasp when you do, Jack standing proudly in the centre of a nursery. A nursery that was empty all of one week ago, as if he'd somehow clicked his fingers and filled it in an instant.

The walls are a soft pink, stereotypically girlie but you like it, you like that he was willing to make the nursery feminine for your baby girl, just as much as you know he'd change it if your girl decided she hated pink.

The crib is set up by the window, soft curtains diming the sunshine outside just enough. The walls have photos of you and Jack, a few from the start of your pregnancy, your wedding. There are photos of the rest of the family and some empty frames clearly waiting for photos of your baby girl when she arrives. He's even put a few copies of your first ultrasound up.

There's a rocking chair in the corner next to a small bookshelf already filled with books, a space for you to sit with your baby when you're nursing or to read her to sleep when she's being testy. A changing table is already stocked with nappies, baby wipes and powder.

It's sweet and girlish and so so lovely because Jack knows you've been worried about having the nursery done even though you have like 6 months until the baby comes. He knows you've been worried it would get put off because he's away a lot for the season. You'd been stressed that the baby might come without having a space to properly stay.

"How did you..."

"I got the guys to help, last weekend when you went out with my mom. That was a distraction!" He grins at you proud of himself, "Nico, Dawson, Luke, Timo and Jesper came round, we got it all sorted. I didn't want you to be worrying about it anymore, baby."

"Is that...is that why you wouldn't let me in here?" You're feeling teary already, hormones running high and emotions always on a knife's edge. It's so so sweet that he did it, even with months left, the fact he knew it was bothering you and decided to fix it even with his busy schedule? You didn't think it was possible to fall more in love with him, but it seems he's proven you wrong again.

"Yeah, didn't want to ruin the surprise and I had a few more bits to get so it was perfect."

"Jack..." You sigh out at him, face scrunching as you try to contain your tears. His proud little grin drops, Jack thinking he's upset you and maybe he's just made you hate the entire room. Maybe it's too pink? Or not pink enough? Or do you hate the crib?

"...Oh...you hate it?"

"No, no! I love it! I love you!" You step forward quickly, wrapping your arms around him as you start to cry into his chest because how could he think you hate it? It's the best nursery in the world and he's the sweetest husband in the world. You really can't stop the tears and Jack should be used to them by now, you've been such a cry baby since you found out you were pregnant, hormones doing a number on you and making you even more sensitive.

"Oh, okay! Oh, don't cry, baby!" He's smoothing your hair down, trying to calm you, but once the waterworks start it's seemingly impossible to stop.

"It's...it's the...hormones...'m sorry..." You sob into his chest, Jack pulling you tight against him and rocking you side to side to try and soothe you.

"Hey, it's okay, angel," He can't help but laugh because he knows you're not sad now and he knows how easily you've been brought to tears as of late. Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head, staying there for a moment to breathe in the smell of your shampoo.

At least he knows you like the nursery, he thinks, enough that it made you cry.

"God, I love you, baby..." He sighs into your hair and his words only seem to make you cry just a little harder because how did you get this lucky?

"Jack..." You waddle into the nursery, now feeling so much larger than before. Quite positively and obviously pregnant and finding moving harder each month. Even simply things are harder because you have a beach ball in the way, Jack tells you it's cute and that's the only thing keep you from crying about it.

"What?" He looks up from where he's arranging some toys in the corner. He's developed an obsession with picking up any adorable toy he finds out and about to add to the collection. There's even a cuddly Fin the Orca from Quinn sitting on top of the toy box.

"Why is there a demon in the crib?" You're staring at the bright red plushie, with big elflike ears, horns, pointy teeth and a curly q tail. Trying to figure out why it's there in the first place because it certainly wasn't there yesterday.

You rest a hand on your stomach and the other on the small of your back, watching as Jack picks the weird little plushie up and makes it wave at you with its little arm.

"It's not a demon, it's our baby girl's first jelly cat!"

"Why is it a devil? A gremlin?" You're not entirely sure what it's supposed to be, definitely some sort of monster or creature and obscenely bright in it's colouring. You have to admit it is kind of cute...in it's own way...

"Uh, because of the New Jersey Devils, obviously? Why would I get our special girl something boring like a bunny?" He places the little plush back in the crib gently, patting it on the head in a way that is so endearingly sweet that you can't help but smile at him.

"She's going to be a weird kid, y'know that? You're going to make our baby a weird kid." You joke knowing fully well that you weren't actually popular or cool in school. Jack closes the distances between the two of you, leaning down to talk to your belly, like he's been doing since day one. He yaps at your baby girl none stop, whether she can understand a single word he says or not.

"Don't listen to your mother, you're going to be amazing and awesome and totally popular." He whispers to your belly, hands coming to rest on either side gently stroking your stomach over your t-shirt.

"You want our baby to be a popular girl?" You raise your eyebrows at him and he looks at you in horror like that might be the worst fate imaginable, to have a stereotypical mean popular girl for a daughter. You think it's impossible for her to turn out that way with Jack as a dad, with Quinn and Luke as uncles and Ellen and Jim as grandparents. She's going to be surrounded by so many amazing, kind people that if she turns out mean you'll be shocked. If she's popular you know it'll be because she's kind.

"On second thoughts, be a weird kid, baby girl. Be into taxidermy or something." You feel her kick his hand in response and can't help but laugh at the pair because you already know they're going to be trouble. Your kid is going to be just like Jack, you have no doubt, and you're certain you're going to be constantly amazed by them.

"You're ridiculous."

You're sighing heavily, hands firmly on your lower back at the ache there as you look in the kitchen cupboard for something to eat. You feel so uncomfortable, so heavy, so big, so achy. Everything hurts, your belly is so heavy that it forces your back to arch and as much as you love your baby girl, you really hate how she's making you feel. Even most food isn't appetising at the moment.

"You okay, baby?" Jack watches you from the kitchen doorway, leaning deliciously against the doorframe. How does he manage to look so good all the time? It only makes you feel worse because you want him but don't feel like acting on it.

"No...back hurts, belly is heavy, I can't get comfy and I feel ugly and gross..."

"First off, you've never been more beautiful," Jack frowns at you, hating that you don't like yourself at the moment. He's certain you've never been more gorgeous than now when you're carrying his baby, your baby. But, he can see it, the way you stand uncomfortable and in pain, how that must weigh down on you as your body constantly changes. "Secondly, c'mere."

Jack moves to you, standing behind your back with his head on your shoulder. His arms come around your front, hands resting underneath your belly securely and in one slow move, he lifts and suddenly everything feels better, lighter.

"Oh, fuck..." It's like he's taken 10 pounds off your spine and you can't help but sigh and lean back into him, eyes closing at the feeling because you haven't felt this comfortable in a while.

"That feel good?" Jack grins into your shoulder, happy that he's helping, happy to feel the way you relax into him as he takes the entire weight of your belly into his palms. It's heavy and he knows his baby girl has been giving you a world of aches and pains.

"Mmhmmm..." You hum, sighing deeply with each breath as he just holds you like that, letting you lean your weight back into him and feel free for a moment, feel more like yourself.

"Well, let's stay like this for a little then, yeah?" He doesn't try to move away, not after a minute, not after 3 or 5. He holds your belly for near 20 minutes until your feet hurt from standing and even then he's considering when he can do it again, when he can help make this whole pregnancy just a tiny bit easier for you.

"What are those?" You point at the tiny little outfits that Jack is currently folding on the changing table in the nursery. The clothes you doubt are going to fit into the drawers you have because he keeps buying more baby outfits, what seems like every single day.

"These?" He holds a little onesie up innocently, grey, red and black, with a little New Jersey logo in the corner.

"Yeah, those? You do know she's going to grow out of them within a few weeks, right?" You keep telling him not to buy so many baby clothes because she's going to grow quicker than she can wear them, but he seems unable to resist.

"Then I'll just buy more..." He mutters continuing to fold the next item he'd brought.

"Jack..."

"But, they're cute! Look! It's a little New Jersey Devils snowsuit!" He holds up a big puffy snowsuit and you can't help but shake your head at him because the baby is due in June and there's no way she's going to be small enough by the time it snows to even wear it.

"She's going to be too big by the time it snows!"

"But, angel!" He pouts at you so badly that you can't help but laugh. Jack's handome, pretty, adorable, always, but there's something about fatherhood, about his excitement to provide for his growing family that makes him even more adorable.

"Okay, okay...they're cute and if it makes you happy you can keep buying them..." You concede, even as you know half the clothes aren't going to be worn by your baby girl.

"Thank you, beside, if it doesn't fit her it might fit the next one." His comment has you letting out a shocked laugh and you move closer to lean into him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and holding your belly.

"How many babies do you want me to pop out?"

"Mmm, like a whole hockey team? Call the Hughes' Hockey Club? The Hughes Hornets? The Hughes Harlequins?"

"You're planning on killing me with babies?" You're already imagining how exhausting it would be to grow and birth that many babies...you'd do it for him, but...maybe stopping at 3 or 4 or 5 would be better.

"No, sex, obviously." Jack frowns at you and you gasp at his commentary, whacking his chest with a free arm until he grasps it and pulls you close.

"You're such a dick!"

"Hey, you love this dick." He smirks down at you, pressing a kiss to your hand.

"Jack!"

You're exhausted, 24 hours of labour has made it's mark on you. Your skin is ashy and sallow, dark bags under your eyes and sweat wetting your hair and skin to such a moistness it almost seems like you've just come out of a shower. But, you're beautiful to him, laying there with your baby girl in your arms, letting her nurse from you like that.

He's in awe of the way you shift her so naturally against your chest, the way you gentle rub the small tuft of dark hair on top of her head.

"You did so good, baby...look at her, look at you..." Jack is sat next to you on the hospital bed, he's been here for the entire labour, holding your hand and giving you water to drink. He's been amazing, and you know he'll continue to be as you face the challenges of post-birth.

He's gentle as he smooths the hair away from your sweaty face, getting the small strands out of your way as you smile tiredly down at your baby girl before looking up at him once she unlatches from your breast.

"You wanna...wanna hold her?" Your voice is raw, exhausted but no less sweet for it and Jack can't help his enthusiastic nod, arms already in position to take her like he practiced at home. His mum and dad giving him a run down with a teddy bear on how to properly hold a new born. At the time it had felt silly, now he's glad for the confidence it has given him.

You transfer your perfect little girl into his arms, sitting up a little more and shifting so he can sit with her more directly next to you. Your head leaning against his shoulder while he cradles her carefully in his arms like the most precious cargo he's ever had.

"Hey, baby girl...it's me, your daddy...God, I've been so excited to meet you. You're so perfect, just like your mommy..." Jack's finger carefully traces her cheek down to her little palm and she grips his finger tightly, trapping it in that notorious baby grip that has his eyes filling with tears, "I love you so much, both of you," He smiles over at you, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead before returning his gaze back to his daughter.

She doesn't even have a name yet, but he loves her so much already. He knows he'd do anything for you, for her and that's both terrifying and uplifting. To love someone so much you'd risk it all, do anything to keep them safe and happy and healthy.

"She has your eyes," You smile up at him, comparing his baby blues with your daughter's own as she yawns in his arms.

"She has your nose, angel."

"You think?" You squint at her, trying to tell if that really is your nose developing or Jack's more button one...it's hard to tell when she's this small, this young.

"Mmm, poor kid." Jack teases you, grinning, full of excitement, happiness, contentment. His wife leaning against him, his new baby girl in his arms, a sense of humour coming back now you're not constantly carrying around an extra weight.

"Hey!"

"I'm joking, she's beautiful just like her mommy." He presses a kiss to your forehead and you sigh into it, letting the tiredness take you knowing that Jack's got you, he's got you both.

[stars-obsession-pit]

So a person requested (in messages) me to write a drabble thing based on this prompt. I’m not really into de-aged characters, but I thought of a way to focus it more on Jason’s reaction rather than the childcare part and felt cool with writing that.

So, uh, hope you like this I guess, @phantomrosereader…

Alright. Alright. Alright alright alrigh—

Nope. They’re still there. Fuck. Jason is not at all prepared to be a father. Nor does he want to show back up at the manor right now carrying two children and be forced to explain all this.

Wait, how did the kids even get there? Who was the mother? Why did they never contact him before?

…Did they contact him before? Can he really be certain he’s not missing any more memories?

He forcefully shook his head. No. No focusing on that right now. He’s fine. No spiraling allowed. He has to deal with this first.

Seriously, fuck. How is he a dad?

He… he should look into the mother. At least then he’d have more to go off of when he talks to Alfred. The note did give a name, but it wasn’t nearly enough to go off of on its own. Danny is hardly an uncommon name. Although, it does seem like a guy’s name—maybe Danny is trans? That would narrow the search down, but would that be enough? Even if he could get it down to just a handful of options, he had no way to determine which Danny was his. The kids seemed to have mostly inherited his own appearance…

Wait, that’s it! Genetic tests!

Despite his strained relationship with the other Bats, he still has access to their resources. A test wouldn’t take too long to give results. And also, it might reveal some other info like allergies he’d need to know.

***

Jason frowned at his laptop as his eyes flitted across the details of the error message. Apparently, some parts of the kids’ genes had been completely unreadable to the scanner and thus it couldn’t form a full profile.

Sighing, he clicked the popup closed. He could at least look at what results had come through. Maybe they’d be enough.

That hope dwindled as he scanned the full data, the corruption looking more dire than he expected. Even if the legible parts did succeed at painting a picture of the kids being related, the swaths of gibberish made meaningfully searching for the mother likely hopeless. However, there did seem to be a pattern to the broke areas. Something tickled at the back of his mind. He felt like he’d seen this before. Could that mean the mother was a meta or alien? Those were on a separate database, so that might resolve the issue. But that would require him to go to the manor, and he was still very hesitant to do that.

So instead, he pulled up his own test results to compare. Maybe they’d let him figure something ou—

He froze.

That’s why he recognized the corruption. Ever since his revival, his own genetic results exhibited almost the exact same pattern of issues.

Oh Hell, did the kids inherit the side effects of the Pit from him?

He looked over at the kids, sleeping peacefully in their seats, and prayed that they hadn’t. He didn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself if they had to suffer through the Pit Rage their whole lives just because of him.

He… he had to go to the manor. There was no pushing this off any longer. This situation was far too big for him to deal with on his own. He couldn’t risk leaving his kids to suffer alone.

Hopefully Alfred with his parenting skills and Damian with his knowledge of the Lazarus Pits (and similar experience of being descended from a user of them) would be able to help. Or if that failed, maybe he could guilt trip Bruce into getting the Justice League Dark to help.

[unabashegirl]

Enticing 48 — ceo hs

Harry, a private billionaire and devoted father, hires Y/N as his son's nanny. Her kindness stirs unexpected feelings. Will love overcome his guarded life, a jealous girlfriend, and the mystery of Oliver's mother?

Author's note: I’m so sorry for not posting Enticing here lately—I honestly just forgot! I'll try to get better at posting Enticing.

⭐��� To make up for it, I’ve created a Patreon collection with ALL the chapters of Enticing available for $15 (54 posts).

⭐️ This is an option for those who are tired of waiting and want instant access. Otherwise, the usual $3 subscription is still available with access to the other one shots.😊

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the rest of the chapters, various one shots and much more :)

--> enticing masterlist <---

Y/N's eyes frantically traversed the black lettering on the PDF, an attachment to the email from her physician, with Harry leaning in closely over her shoulder. The words seemed to blur together, the medical jargon forming a language she struggled to decipher. Scroll by scroll, she ventured through the results until her eyes widened, and the weight of the revelation made her hands tremble, prompting her to clutch the phone against her chest.

"What?" Harry questioned, his concern evident as she blocked her phone. "What is it, love?" he pressed, observing the emotions playing out in her glistening eyes. Without hesitation, he gently took the phone from her grasp, his eyes scanning the results.

"We're having a girl," he whispered, his voice a mix of disbelief and wonder as he absorbed the implications of the genetic testing. The nerves he felt weren't just the typical anxiety of impending parenthood; they were layered with the complexities of his own tumultuous relationship with his father. Having Oliver had been a daunting experience, but the prospect of raising a daughter felt like uncharted territory, stirring a blend of excitement and trepidation within him.

Anger wasn't Harry's immediate response; instead, he sat in profound silence, contemplating the profound shift this news brought. Y/N, sensing his internal turbulence, gently broached the unspoken question.

"Are you angry?" she asked, her voice a delicate thread weaving through the room. The uncharted territory of raising a daughter seemed to hover in the air, and Harry, grappling with the weight of it all, finally found his voice.

A wave of joy began to replace the initial shock on Harry's face. Excitement sparkled in his eyes, and a radiant smile emerged, illuminating his features. "A girl," he repeated, this time with a newfound enthusiasm. "A little princess, huh?" The weight of the unknown seemed to lift as he looked at Y/N.

Y/N's concern softened into a smile as she saw Harry's genuine happiness. "You're not upset?" she asked, searching his eyes for confirmation.

Harry placing a tender kiss on her forehead taking her by surprise. "No, not at all. I'm over the moon, lovie. Just needed a moment to let it sink in."

As the gravity of the news settled, they found themselves wrapped in each other's arms, a shared warmth and anticipation replacing any lingering uncertainty. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a comforting ambiance as they settled on the bed, Harry's arms securely around Y/N.

"What do you think she'll be like?" Y/N mused, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on Harry's chest.

"Knowing she's ours, she's going to be brilliant," Harry said, a dreamy quality in his voice. "Smart, kind, and probably a bit stubborn, taking after her mum."

Y/N chuckled, playfully nudging him. "You think so?"

"I know so," he affirmed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

In the cocoon of their shared excitement, they decided to embrace the moment. Harry grabbed the remote, pulling up a list of movies they had been meaning to watch. They settled on a comforting classic, wrapped up in blankets, as the glow of the TV illuminated their joy-filled faces.

With the weight of the news replaced by the warmth of their love, they spent the evening lost in the magic of the movie, already dreaming of the adventures that awaited them with their little girl.

The room was immersed in the soft glow of the moonlight as Y/N gently shook Harry awake. His eyes fluttered open, momentarily disoriented, and his heart raced with concern. "What happened? Is everything okay with the baby?" he asked in a hushed tone, immediately reaching for her belly.

Y/N stifled a laugh, her hand resting on top of his. "No, no, everything's fine. The baby's doing great." She could see the relief washing over Harry as he sighed, the worry lines on his forehead smoothing out.

"Then why did you wake me up?" he asked, still half-asleep but attentive.

She hesitated for a moment, chewing on her lower lip nervously. "I, um, I have a craving."

Harry blinked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "A craving? At this hour?"

Y/N nodded, her cheeks tinted pink. "Yeah. It's a bit embarrassing, but I really, really want candy burgers."

"Candy burgers?" Harry repeated, a bemused smile forming on his lips. "You woke me up in the middle of the night for candy burgers?"

She nodded sheepishly. "I know, it's silly. But I can't stop thinking about them, and I thought if I didn't get them now, I might not be able to sleep."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, the initial shock of being abruptly woken up giving way to amusement. "Candy burgers, huh? I don’t even know what candy burgers are?”

“Well, the buns are rice krispies, the patty is a reese's cup, with caramel drizzle like ketchup, the tomatoes are strawberries and the pickles are green gummy worms” she confessed, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. “They have to be green and not the sour kind”.  Harry, with a bemused expression, took in her explanation and couldn't help but find the idea amusing.

“Well, I suppose we need to keep our little one happy." He swung his legs out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he stood up. "Let's go get you some candy burgers, then." He spoke as he looked for a pair of joggers since he needed to head to the store for the ingredients.

The grocery store was bathed in the soft hum of fluorescent lights as Harry and Y/N strolled hand in hand through the aisles. Their journey had a specific destination tonight—the candy aisle. As they approached the colorful shelves filled with an array of sweets, Y/N's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Alright, we need marshmallows, gummy candies, and anything else that screams candy burgers," she proclaimed, a playful grin on her face. Harry chuckled, finding the whole adventure amusing.

As they perused the candy section, Harry couldn't help but express his amazement. "You woke me up for candy burgers? I thought something was wrong," he admitted, his brows furrowed in mock concern. Y/N laughed, her voice echoing through the aisle.

"Harry, this is just a pregnancy craving. Get ready; you're in for a lot more sleepless nights and unexpected food runs," she teased, gently patting her baby bump. Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning shock.

"More of these midnight escapades?" he questioned, to which Y/N nodded with a mischievous smile. "It's all part of the journey, love," she reassured him, savoring the sweetness of the moment and the prospect of the candy burgers awaiting them at home.

Harry and Y/N turned the corner, the excitement of their candy burger quest lingering in the air, only to be met with an unexpected sight. There, standing in the grocery store, was Valeria, Harry's notorious ex-girlfriend. Dressed in a very short party dress and high heels, she clutched two bottles of hard tequila, her appearance revealing a Tuesday night of revelry. Valeria's eyes widened as she spotted Harry and Y/N, and a sly smile curved on her lips. It was a scene out of an awkward encounter.

"Harry, darling, long time no see," Valeria purred, feigning surprise. Her voice carried a note of mischief as she eyed Y/N from head to toe. Harry's grip on Y/N's hand tightened instinctively. "Valeria," he acknowledged, his tone reserved. Y/N tried to maintain composure, offering a polite smile despite the uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. Valeria's gaze lingered on Y/N, a subtle challenge underlying her expression.

"What brings you two lovebirds to this charming late-night rendezvous?" Valeria teased, the sarcasm evident in her voice. Harry cleared his throat, his response measured. "Just grabbing a few things," he replied, avoiding eye contact. Valeria chuckled, her laughter carrying a hint of mockery. "Well, don't let me keep you. Enjoy your... groceries," she quipped, the air thick with tension Valeria, pretending to be engrossed in the liquor aisle, subtly observed Y/N through the unzipped sweater she wore. The realization hit her like a sudden jolt — Y/N was pregnant. A mix of shock, jealousy, and resentment flickered across Valeria's face as she grappled with the unexpected revelation. Her plans to disturb Harry and Y/N's peaceful night with her presence took an unexpected turn.

Unable to contain her surprise, Valeria momentarily forgot about the bottles of tequila she clutched. Her eyes widened, fixated on Y/N's baby bump. The jealousy that surged within her was palpable. Her thoughts raced, contemplating how Harry had moved on, creating a family with someone else. A wave of bitterness washed over her, and she found herself caught between the desire to hide her emotions and the envy that fueled them.

--> chapter 49

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1377

Whumptober #27: Voiceless | Laboratory

Your whumpee is kept in a laboratory to be tested on. They undergo many surgeries for the scientists to take samples, make modifications and conduct tests. If your whumpee has powers, maybe they’re trying to find the source/to what extent the powers affect the whumpee. If they’re a creature-of-sorts, maybe they’re trying to study their body/see how they can genetically recreate their traits. Maybe your whumpee is just human, but due to their advanced skill set, the scientists go looking for some super-human aspects that just aren't there. 

Due to the nature of the surgeries, the whumpee is almost always intubated. However, the scientists are far from careful when doing so/removing the tube. This results in the whumpee’s vocal cords being damaged. As a result, they feel even more helpless as they can’t even articulate curses at their torturers, nor can they comfortably talk/sing to themselves when they’re alone.

Your whumpee remains voiceless and powerless during the ordeal, to the point that they just give up.

[envysparkler]

idea that was prompted by the whump server: I’m a huge fan of the headcanon that Tim and Cass look very much alike despite not being related.  while this makes for great fun in imagining them taking on similar superhero names and costuming, there’s another great avenue that lies overlooked.

Tim and Cass as Robin and Batgirl.  simultaneously.  interchangeably.

it starts as a prank on Bruce and Babs.  their costumes are the same size and their coloring is similar enough to pass in the dark of Gotham.  they go four hours undiscovered--it’s not Bruce or Babs that figures it out, it’s some random criminal, who in the middle of being beaten up by Robin, squints and goes, “are you a girl?”

needless to say, Bruce and Babs are Not Amused.  Tim and Cass very much are.  and their little gremlin minds start to think about how far they can take this.

they redesign the costumes--with Alfred’s help--to look more androgynous.  Tim grows his hair out, Cass cuts it shorter.  criminals lose their shit.  they start dressing alike out of costume and Dick guesses wrong so many times, he gives up and just calls them both ‘duckling’.

Steph is the only one that can tell them apart with a single glance.  no one knows how.  she gives a different explanation every time someone asks.

the consequences balloon outwards.  everyone is afraid of messing with Robin and Batgirl because sometimes they’ll get defeated so easily it’s humiliating and sometimes their entire life is unraveled before their eyes.  Lady Shiva treats Tim like a surrogate son.  Ra’s is delighted to have found a worthy opponent-slash-successor that’s solved the apparent limitations of the human body.

but the most hilarious consequence of all--

when Hood busts into Titans Tower, Robin listens patiently to his monologue about all the ways Batman failed Gotham.  then takes Hood down the moment he makes that first punch.  and hugs him when he’s lying on the floor groaning.

“wrong,” Robin says.  “Bruce still loves you.”

(it takes Jason a week to realize that Tim and Cass are not the same person.)

(it takes Jason two weeks to realize that Tim and Cass are not identical twins.)

(it takes Jason several months to realize that Tim and Cass are not blood-related at all and even after he sees the results of the genetic tests, he still refuses to believe it.)

(Tim and Cass look at each other and shrug.  in synchrony.)

[astemaker]

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[generic-sonic-fan]

Prompt: Shadow discovers his genetics are slowly unraveling, a result of his Black Arms blood destabilizing from never undergoing the final Black Arms maturation process as intended by Black Doom (a failsafe, if you will).

Now he faces a difficult decision: undergo a process that could change his very being, die a slow, agonizing death, or risk losing time looking for another way that might not exist.

(No Shadow Gen spoilers, please; it doesn't have to be just Shadow, but he is the primary focus.)

Sanguinaccio Dolce

Summary:

Shadow’s genetics are slowly unraveling, a result of never undergoing the final Black Arms maturation process as intended by Black Doom. He must either find a way out or allow himself to become the monster he was always intended to be. Time is running thin.

. . . maybe he understands Maria now more than ever.

(Content warning for blood, sanguivorism, and body horror)

---

When the scientist tells him he is dying, Shadow laughs. And laughs. And laughs.

When he was younger he tried to pray to the god that Grandfather said he believed in, pleading for this all-powerful entity of fate to make him more like Maria. Make me kinder, he begged, ease my temper. Dull my edges, make me softer to hold.

The first and only time Maria cut her finger on one of his quills was once the worst day of his life. She was tired and sick and her hand slipped, her precious lifeblood spilled onto his head and disappeared in the blacks and reds of his alien design. Consumed.

He tasted iron for weeks.

---

It had started so innocently. Too many coffee beans, he told everyone as he rushed to the restroom. The vomit that spilled out of his mouth looked like coffee grounds anyway.

He crossed foods off his list. First were fresh vegetables, then fruits. Then grains. Breads. Cheeses. Eggs. Each bout of nausea taught him a lesson and he heeded it. He was the Ultimate Lifeform- perhaps he had simply surpassed the need for food. But he still needed to sleep every couple of days, and the nagging hunger had yet to go away. He kept to meats- lunch meats at first before those too returned to his mouth after eating them. Then he tried cooked meats.

Then raw.

He remembered the taste of iron.

He drank water constantly to get rid of it.

---

There's this way that Rouge looks at him. She doesn't even try to hide it anymore when it's just the two of them. There's bits of Maria there, if he imagines them- when she apologizes for the medical testing that has to be done.

But his imagination is beginning to fail him in the times where only the heartrate monitor makes a sound. She grabs his hand. Stares at the floor. Breathes. Swallows, sometimes. Closes her eyes and sighs.

Then she stands. And that look has returned, sad and still but there's something steely that plants itself inside of him as she locks eyes with him.

"I'll find something, m'kay?" Rouge squeezes his hand. "Got some favors I might be able to pull."

"It's alright."

"I'm going to do everything I can to find you a cure."

"I know," Maria says, "but it won't be your fault if you can't."

"Shut up." Rouge says softly as she lets go. With one hand on the door, she says, "Omega will keep you on the straight and narrow 'til I get back."

"Of course."

Goodbye Shadow, he mouths on her way out the door.

---

He collapsed in the bathroom of a shopping mall and wasn't found until Omega scanned for him hours later.

Amy and Cream assumed that he had abandoned them, left abruptly, skated off into the sunset to a lone cliff or a decommissioned GUN base to brood. Normal behavior. Typical Shadow. Known to be erratic, trusted to be alone.

Shadow doesn't remember the way Omega tore through the locked stall to get him. He doesn't remember the restrained touches Omega used to move him as little as possible in case there was an injury to aggravate. He doesn't remember settling against Omega's core plating, against the frantic thrum of machinery. He doesn't remember the thousands of dollars in property damage and the injuries to two civilians during the exit. These are all details told to him afterward.

Shadow only remembers sitting up to find Omega shaking against the wall of his hospital room.

Overactive combat protocols, Omega tells him.

"I'm sorry," Maria says. "I didn't mean to scare you."

---

It is Omega who suggests it.

"No. Absolutely not."

"YOU ARE RECEIVING A BLOOD TRANSFUSION ANYWAY." Omega flicks his optics to the door.

"No."

"YOUR BODY IS SHUTTING DOWN. IT IS NOT RECEIVING THE NUTRIENTS IT NEEDS."

"They can inject them."

"IT IS ALSO UNABLE TO PROCESS THE NUTRIENTS IT RECEIVES."

"No!" Shadow hisses.

Omega grabs the raised head of the hospital bed and looms over him. "YOU WILL NOT DIE ON MY WATCH."

"Because you promised Rouge?"

"BECAUSE IT IS INSULTING TO ME."

"Insulting." Shadow rolls the word around in his mouth. It's something to chew on other than the metallic scent creeping its way up his throat.

"THE BLOOD STORED IN THIS MEDICAL FACILITY WAS FREELY DONATED. IT WAS DONATED WITH THE INTENT OF PREVENTING DEATH." Omega steps back. "REGARDLESS OF HOW IT IS USED TO DO SO."

"They probably won't even let me."

"I'LL BE BACK."

"Hey!" Maria shouts after him. "Don't do anything foolish. I know you hate seeing me this way, but-"

---

In the middle of the night, the door to the hospital room creaks open.

Loud metallic footsteps in the cadence of Sonic's walk. Two glowing irises shine against the laminate floor.

Metal Sonic holds the door; the doctor enters.

"Doctor." Shadow hisses.

"Don't mind him, he's just. . . protection." The doctor smiles and pats the head of his creation as the door closes behind him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, someone called in a favor." The doctor grabs a chair from the wall and pulls it close to the bed. "And now I'm here."

"You're a roboticist."

"The only one with the full Project SHADOW database."

"If Grandfather can't get it right," Maria spits into the blankets rather than at the doctor's face, "what makes you think you can?"

"I suppose you're right. Never been a fan of the fleshy stuff." The doctor pulls at his mustache. "I've got something better."

With a whistle, Metal Sonic joins his master's side. A gloved hand raps against the robot's head.

"It's not a bad existence. Just ask your friend Omega." The doctor explains.

"At what cost?"

"Eh eh eh, I told you. A favor. Why, you'd do the same for family, wouldn't you?"

Metal Sonic stares unwaveringly at the window across the room.

---

A foam cup. With an opaque lid and straw.

Omega enters with it, a doctor trailing in behind him.

"Do I have to drink it?" Maria asks.

"We aren't so sure on the science," the medic replies, "but. . . ingesting it may improve retention."

"I WILL FORCE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT IF I HAVE TO."

The doctor shakes his head. "It's his decision-"

Omega puts the cup in Shadow's hand. Sweet iron drifts up the straw and into his nose and he feels wet spots on his chest. Instead of being snot or tears or blood, it's saliva.

The contents of the cup don't last more than a few seconds. He finishes and gasps for breath. He feels it move down his esophagus and settle into his stomach.

For the first time in months, he feels sated.

No matter how much he tries to vomit, he can't.

---

He finds himself dreaming of licking the crimson splatter off the glass of the escape pod.

---

"You told him no." The phone speaker crackles with Rouge's voice.

"I can't let him."

"You know Omega and I would get you out of there, right? Tails could reprogram anything Eggman decides to add to your head-"

"No."

Rouge is silent from the other end of the line.

"I'd rather be remembered as I was." Maria's voice breaks. She barely has the strength to swallow her nerves back down.

"This isn't over. Don't go anywhere." Rouge says firmly, before hanging up.

---

The scientists take another sample of his genome to test. It's changing again, even though his inhibitor rings haven't been removed.

---

He dreams someone is tearing his arms off by the shoulder and wakes up with his own blood stained green against the hospital sheets.

---

There's an illegal geneticist in some far-off tax haven that will take him. Making promising work with cloning, supposedly.

"Just send them a drop of blood and a quill." There's a heart dotting the 'i'. At the bottom is Rouge's signature. Taped along side it is a sealed testing strip with an address pre-printed on it.

Shadow tears the letter to pieces and offers Omega the remains to burn in the morning.

---

Omega returns with another cup. The third one today.

"I'm not hungry." Maria whispers.

"SCANS INDICATE THAT REGULAR NUTRITIONAL INTAKE IS RAPIDLY IMPROVING YOUR CONDITION."

"It isn't fixing anything." Shadow crosses his arms.

"ORGANICS DO NOT GET REPAIRED. THEY 'HEAL'. THIS IS HEALING YOU."

"Healing me into what?"

Omega pauses.

"Have you forgotten that this body isn't my own?"

Omega stomps forward and shoves the cup towards him. "IT IS YOURS!"

"Then why is it doing this?" Shadow shoves it back.

"BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT MAINTAINING IT."

"I'm sick!" Maria shrieks. "Quit insisting I'm not!"

Omega grabs him by his chest fur and yanks him forward.

"THEN DO WHAT IT TAKES TO SURVIVE." He growls in his ear.

"And if this is how I have to live, is it-"

"AS LONG AS YOU CONTINUE TO FUNCTION, NOTHING ELSE MATTERS." Omega drops him back against the mattress. He extends the cup to him again.

Shadow takes it. Put his mouth around the straw. And sips.

---

His muscles are cramping. He's getting taller. His tail digs into the bed beneath him.

---

"This is your last chance." Rouge says quietly.

Shadow has to press the phone speaker directly against his ear to even hear her.

"Found a good place. A nonprofit. No ties to GUN. There's already been a few rich ol' fogies who've allowed themselves to be frozen. Hoping for a miracle in the next hundred years or so."

"After I'm dead."

"No, just before. Or, maybe a little ways before then, to ensure you're healthier when they defrost you."

"I wouldn't get to see you again."

"Oh I'd stop by. I'm sure it won't be too much to wake you every 25 years. The cryo pods need maintenance that often anyways, it's a really good deal."

The cold is familiar. Shadow has been running so hot that even his breath feels cold when it leaves his mouth. His hunger has spiked, his body aches so much he can barely move.

He remembers the tingle of frost on his fingers as he awoke in the basement of the GUN facility those years ago. How comfortable it would be to drift back into that same slumber again.

"I'll consider it." Shadow eventually replies.

---

He tastes Maria's blood in his mouth. His teeth are imbedded in his own arm. His laps his tongue idly against his own beating pulse.

He wakes. He screams for Rouge. She's not there. The scientists can't hold him down as he stumbles out of the hospital bed for the phone. He dials her number- are his fingers sharper than they used to be? -and presses himself against the wall as the phone rings.

Rouge picks up.

"Come home." He says. "I can't run from it any longer."

---

"I'm scared," Maria's voice trembles as she speaks.

"DON'T BE."

"What if it hurts?" Maria asks.

Omega takes Shadow's hand.

"YOU WILL SURVIVE. YOU ARE STRONG."

"I need you to promise me something." Maria's lips move, but it's not her words that come out. The voice that speaks for her is too deep, almost gravelly. A stranger.

A pause. "ANYTHING."

"To protect the people of this world."

A tear spills out. It does not roll down skin or fur. It rolls down scales.

"I beg of you." Shadow says. "Protect them. From me."

"AFFIRMATIVE. I AM BEST EQUIPPED TO NEUTRALIZE YOU. YOU KNOW THIS."

"It's always been the plan." Shadow chokes out a laugh between sobs.

---

Shadow opens his eyes.

All of them.

---

The places that Maria held him by are gone.

The soft fuzz on his cheeks. His gently sloping shoulders. The top of his head. He can't feel the trace of her hands there anymore, the space consumed by his extended mass.

But Rouge trails her nails down the scales of his arm, now. Omega grabs the spikes of his shoulders and gives a teasing shake. Rouge hugs his waist, below his wings.

---

Apparently pig's blood is easy enough to get from a butcher, if you know the right way to ask.

"Some people use it to make blood sausage. Or blood pudding. Whatever that is." Rouge elaborated when she first showed up with a bag of unidentified blood.

It honestly tastes awful, but he never enjoyed food the same way Rouge did, so he doesn't mind much.

(Sometimes he dreams of the blood from the hospital and wakes up drooling over his pillow. Rouge offers to steal some for him and Omega offers. . . a less ethical way to get it, and he turns them both down.)

---

Weeks of agonizing about going outside are erased by a "yo dude, looking badass!" from Sonic the first time Shadow does leave the apartment.

---

Amy is the first to find out what's inside Shadow's foam cup when she doesn't let him leave until he eats one of her pastries. He spends hours over the toilet, leaving Rouge tearing her own hair out and Omega furious enough to tear both him and Amy to pieces.

It's easier to tell her than it is to dissuade Omega, so Shadow does.

She is. . . shockingly okay with it.

---

He doesn't hear Maria's voice in his own anymore. She's gone again, lost to the same inky void that consumes her when life moves on.

He hopes it's comfortable there.

---

Amy makes Sanguinaccio Dolce for his birthday. It's delicious, and worth the small stomachache from the chocolate.

[createacamillahect]

went down a very sixth research rabbit hole for a fic recently and apparently no one can agree what squirting is due to varying definitions and conflicting results when evaluating fluid source and composition, so may i suggest cam and (trans?) pal squirting experiments for science?

they can write a paper on it later for genetic outreach but really it's an excuse for them to have lots of sex. it's important to be thorough! pal tests out every method he can for making cam squirt, varies every condition he can manipulate and control for, and repeats each trial both with and without necromancy looking at the activity in her glands and organs as she comes. he loves studying her body and gets distracted by her especially in the beginning so they have to redo several trials. sometimes she tries to distract him on purpose.

when it's pal's turn to be the subject, cam is all business. she doesn't have pal's perfect memory and can't write things down in the moment so she dictates observations to a tape recorder while fucking him. (this is not strictly necessary, as she has perfect memory of anything involving him, but she likes how embarrassed he gets when they listen back through the tapes for her to transcribe notes). pal gets gender euphoria from the burst of fluid even if it's not coming out of a dick so cam is extra motivated in determining the most reliable ways to get him to squirt, and doubly likes it for the excuse to bribe him into keeping hydrated outside of 'research sessions.'

after they meet pyrrha, they convince her to help them with a new round of trials. after all, there are new variables to be tested and it's good to make sure your results are replicable by other people.

Omg....

Hot..

(what a prompt)

several ideas so several dashes.

The sixth house has an exorbitant amount of money to spend on genetic research. The day Juno Zeta received a request from the Warden was the last day of her involvement in the field.

----

Palamedes can make Camilla come with just his necromancy and they love it. His favorite is doing so after she has orgasmed several times and is whiny and overstimulated.

Very rarely do they catch the fluid with a vial so they shift their methods. They begin catching it in their mouths and spitting into the vials. They have to account for the components of the spit afterwords.

Palamedes holds Camilla's eyes as he spits in the test tube. She enjoys watching his full lips pucker and his dragging his tongue along the edge to retain any traces of fluid.

------

There are several things they do to ensure the integrity of the samples.

They shower beforehand together, for one. Camilla runs her hands up his bare front before dipping her fingers down to his cunt. She drags her fingers around his clitoris and along his folds as she kisses along his neck.

Likewise, Palamedes kisses her shoulder before falling to his knees to warm Camilla up beforehand.

For a few runs they don gloves, varying the material to rule out trace variants.

Palamedes reacts especially well to the gloves, which causes Camilla to grin into him and dictate his extra sensitivity into the recorder.

They gain plenty of research that way.

-----

There are failed trials.

Camilla pulls Palamedes into a kiss, biting his bottom lip as he thrusts the strap into her, hand dropping the vial from Cam as he comes, abandoning it to pull her body back against him, hands grasping at the flesh of her thighs to pull her closer.

Pyrrhas semen contaminates some of the samples.

-------

Positions that bring them the most pleasure vary as well. Camilla prefers to ride Palamedes' face while Palamedes, ever the pillow princess, likes to be on his back with his legs thrown over Camilla's shoulder.

He especially enjoys watching his come coat Camilla's face, even if it doesnt end up in the vial. Gender euphoria, he supposes.

-----

When they ask Pyrrha to join she has a few ideas as well. Specifically, temperature, and she drags ice cubes along Camilla's nipples as Palamedes eat her out, seeing if that affects anything. They get more samples and Camilla is less likely to move afterwords.

They ask Pyrrha about gloves and she brings a leather pair home from work. Pyrrha disinfects leather gloves before using them. Palamedes reacts well to them, but curiously, Camilla reacts well to the leather as well.

Palamedes also has the opportunity to takes notes from the head of the bed as Pyrrha fucks into Camilla on her hands and knees in front of him. Camilla takes the time to distract him, edging her face across the bed until she pants over the crease in his shorts.

Palamedes clear eyes study Camilla's face as she rides Pyrrha's, and similiarly Camilla watches intently as she scribbles in a notepad from a chair as Pyrrha sucks Palamedes off.

They decide that the added voyeurism might skew the data so they also record trials on a video camera for study later. And if rewatching the recordings leads to a threesome, well, data is data.

[naavispider]

Would you ever write what would happen if Quaritch managed to kidnap Spider the Cat's in the Cradle? One shot, headcanons, anything

To recap: Spider and Quaritch had their meeting at the waffle house, only in this AU the police never show up to carry out their sting operation. The next day, the genetic testing comes back negative (meaning Q still looks extremely guilty in Regina's death). He kicks the plan into action the next day.

Spider had been nervous all day. Quaritch had said the results were due soon. It could literally be any minute now. He pushed off from the school parking lot on his skateboard, not even bothering to collect his homework from his locker. He pulled out the burner that his dad gave him, even though he knew he shouldn't text and skate. He checked, but there were no new messages. He rolled the familiar route down Wisteria avenue and tried to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head that told him maybe he hadn't heard yet because it hadn't gone their way.

Before he could dwell too much on the matter, the low hum of an engine behind him made him look over his shoulder. He shouldn't have been surprised to see his father's car pulling up behind him, but he was. He kicked his board up and walked over to the driver's side tinted window. "What are you doing here?" he asked, looking around inconspicuously as the window slid down. "Did you find out? I thought you were laying low?"

Straight away Spider could tell that his dad looked... different. Tense. "What's... wrong?"

"Get in kid and I'll explain."

It was then that Spider noticed the passenger seat wasn't empty. Lyle Wainfleet? What was he doing here? The whole situation was screaming something at Spider, he just couldn't figure it out. His brain seemed to have frozen, unable to make the connection which in hindsight, was obvious.

He took a step back. "What's going on?"

"Get in, and I'll tell you." For the first time, his dad looked at him properly. His eyes softened and there was something that looked suspiciously like a plea hiding behind them. "Come on," he said more gently, more reassuring.

Every fibre of his being was telling Spider that this was a bad idea, but he didn't have the capacity to act on it. He swallowed his nerves, shook his head and opened the back door. Once he was inside the Bugatti, Wainfleet turned around from the front and threw him a grin. "Alright kid? How you doing?"

"Fine..." Spider replied wearily. "I kind of wanna know what the Hell's going on though." Quaritch had already pulled away and they were moving through the streets at a speed that definitely wasn't legal. "Did the results come back?" His heart was starting to sink in his chest.

"Lyle turned back around to face the front, and let Quaritch answer. "Sure did, kid."

Okay... Spider waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. He was starting to stress now. Why was Quaritch being so weird? If the results were negative, they'd deal with it. What was all this cloak and dagger? "And...?" he prompted, heart pounding.

"Spider, I need you to listen very carefully, and I need you to be cool, okay?"

Spider flicked his gaze between Quaritch and Wainfleet, neither of whom were facing him. He never put his seatbelt on so he moved to the middle of the car and tried to gauge Quaritch's face for himself. "Okay," he said, trying to calm himself down as he said it.

"The results were negative. She didn't have Osteogenesis imperfecta."

Spider's breathing was coming faster and faster. He tried to wrangle control. His mind was spinning. Sure, he'd said they would deal with it if this happened, but now that it was fact, Spider wasn't so sure. Regina had died, and it wasn't due to a rare condition mimicking abuse. Someone had done that to her. "Okay, fine. Stop the car and we'll figure it out."

"This is the part where you need to stay cool, Spider. We're taking a roadtrip."

"What do you mean?"

Wainfleet looked very obviously over at Quaritch. "What do you mean?" Spider repeated, more forcefully this time.

With no response from Quaritch, Wainfleet turned back to Spider. "I'm gonna ask you once to put your seatbelt on."

"No, I want you to take me home." Spider stared right back at Wainfleet.

Wainfleet sighed. He looked resigned to something. Spider's throat had started to tighten. Not now, he urged it silently.

"Okay," Wainfleet sighed under his breath, and for a moment Spider thought he was agreeing to the request. Next moment however, the man turned around to the front and opened the glovebox. He started fiddling around with something and Spider leaned forward to see what-

He scrambled back against the seat, eyes wide as he took in what Wainfleet was doing. A cloth and a bottle. The car was on the highway now, but Spider wasn't thinking. He grabbed the door handle and began pulling in vain. Quaritch had locked it, of course he had. If Spider hadn't been so panicked he would have had time to chastise himself for falling for the same trick twice. "Pull over!" he yelled at Quaritch.

"Kid, calm down," Wainfleet tried to reason.

Spider just stared at the way his dad kept driving, not lifting a finger, ignoring everything Spider was saying. "Dad!"

Wainfleet began to reach back towards Spider. "Get that the fuck away from me!" Spider shouted, blinding panic consuming him up from the inside out. He tried to get the attention of his dad again, to no avail. "Dad!"

Wainfleet was reaching fully back now, his torso half in the back, forcing Spider into the very corner of the car. He hit the marine's arm away, but Wainfleet simply transferred the cloth to his other hand and lunged forward, leaving the passenger seat and wrestling Spider in the back. It wasn't much of a fight. Wainfleet was over six feet and at least three times as wide as Spider. Even with both hands, Spider couldn't grapple the man away far enough to prevent the cloth from covering his mouth. The last thing he remembered saying was yelling for his dad to stop Wainfleet.

He tried as hard as he could, but neither his tears nor his screams were enough, and eventually the stench of the cloth filling his lungs sent his limbs limp and his brain down into a deep sleep.

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Reworked Species #5: Mutated Soldiers

Overview

They first emerged after the Amadeus Syndicate rose to power and initiated the "Übermensch Program". Doctor Amadeus, drawing inspiration from Nietzsche's philosophy, founded the program with the ambition of creating ideal humans. These individuals would be capable of transcending the nihilistic void, shaping their own meaningful existence, and creating new values that defy traditional religious beliefs. She sought to achieve this goal through a combination of eugenics, genetic engineering, surgery, brainwashing, and experimental drugs.

Common test subjects included criminals, military deserters, people with severe mental and physical disabilities, and those suffering from debilitating illnesses. The Übermensch Program ultimately ended in disaster when its first batch of "ideal humans" mutated into mindless creatures and went on a rampage, slaughtering numerous scientists involved. Undeterred, the Amadeus Syndicate continued to refine these beings, shifting the program's focus from creating Nietzsche's "Übermensch" to developing a more traditional super soldier program.

A couple of years later, the Ikari Warriors stumbled upon the first batch of these "ideal humans", later identified as explosive variants of the Mutated Soldier, during an investigation at an abandoned Amadeus Syndicate laboratory. The investigation was prompted by civilian reports of animalistic screeching, screams of agony, and horrendous odors emanating from the site.

The Rebel Army and Ptolemaic Army are the only known groups to kidnap unsuspecting civilians for their respective projects. The Rebel Army's Super Soldier Project was launched in collaboration with the Amadeus Syndicate, who provided crucial scientific expertise and support. In contrast, the Ptolemaic Army's Cuāuhocēlōtl Operation employed a combination of repurposed technology and drugs, necromancy, and experimentation with psionic energy. The Rebel Army and Ptolemaic Army aimed to enhance normal humans' abilities and grant them special powers for battlefield use. The beings created by the Ptolemaic Army were the result of failed experiments involving unusual genetic-altering chemicals and forced integration of psionic energy.

These inhumane experiments were deliberately concealed from the public to avoid suspicion and global hysteria. Considered failures, Mutated Soldiers were either forsaken and sealed away in abandoned or heavily guarded testing facilities or retained by their creators. Those retained were trained into obedient soldiers and deployed in specific situations, particularly when additional reinforcements and extra military power were needed. Notably, the Ptolemaic Army also utilised Mutated Soldiers for breeding purposes, producing additional cultists and soldiers.

Appearance

Amadeus Syndicate and Rebel Army

The Amadeus Syndicate, and later the Rebel Army, produce two distinct variants of Mutated Soldiers, classified into the following levels: Level Delta and Level Zeta.

Level Delta “bomber”: Bombers are the most common type of Mutated Soldier, requiring the least amount of effort in their creation and physical enhancement. As a result, they retain the most biological similarities to their former human selves, but with several drastic differences. They resemble the Mutated Soldiers from Metal Slug 2/X, but with tighter skin around their spine, ribcage, and joints. Their skin is necrotized, dimpled with goosebumps, and grotesquely flaky, while their amber eyes glow a fluorescent yellow in dark environments or at night.

Unlike other Mutated Soldiers, their heights aren’t predetermined and instead vary drastically from one individual to another. However, most exhibit towering heights, surpassing those of average humans. They’re the only Mutated Soldier variant affiliated with both the Amadeus Syndicate and the Rebel Army to possess genitalia. However, due to their malformed state and sterilisation, they’re unable to use them for reproductive purposes. Their blood is a neon purple with streaks of scarlet, and it has a distinctive, unpleasant taste often likened to gunpowder and sewage.

Males have semi-bloated stomachs with bulging veins, disproportionately long arms, and sparse body hair, which comes in shades of blonde or black due to experimentation with the hair DNA of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Females, on the other hand, have slimmer, almost malnourished bodies with elongated limbs, sagging breasts, uncomfortably muscular legs with bulging veins, and disheveled, fully grown body hair that matches the same blonde or black colour options as their male counterparts. They both possess red-stained, razor-sharp, slender claws and talons as well as toothless mouths that conceal fleshy, carnivorous teeth. These teeth protrude like syringes during feeding, boasting a tungsten-hard resilience that enables them to bite effortlessly through even the toughest bone. They often wear tattered remnants of the clothing their former selves would wear, now ragged, moth-eaten, and heavily soiled with dirt, blood, and occasionally urine.

Level Zeta “poisoner”: Poisoners are 8 ft (243.84 cm) androgynes who possess elongated limbs, characterized by eight slender fingers, syndactyl-like feet, and slightly curved adamant claws and talons. Their neon green blood is streaked with dark red and is extremely toxic; even a small amount ingested can be as deadly as arsenic. Their genitalia are replaced by four 6' 5" (195.58 cm) black tendrils, which trail behind them as they move. These tendrils are covered in a thin, iridescent slime secreted from microscopic pores, and their undersides feature three rows of urchin-like spikes. They have no need to cover themselves in clothing as their bodies are malformed in such a way that clothing wouldn't fit them.

Three to six people are frequently merged to create a poisoner, which is evident from the creature's identical number of arms and heads. Its semi-gaunt snow-white skin is tinged with a sickly green hue, and it’s characterised by prominent muscle spasms and pulsating, bulging veins. They have agonised faces that bear a resemblance to their original selves, but with reddish-black tongues, foggy and bloodshot eyes with yellow sclera, and cyanosis. All of their heads are located on the chest, and they have three hearts. Two hearts are placed near the centre of their lower back, and one is located directly beneath the diaphragm.

They have a 4 ft (121.92 cm) wide and 5 ft (152.4 cm) tall semi-circular, wrinkled protrusion on their back. Due to its heavy weight, it causes them to slouch. The protrusion exhibits cyanosis, a light scattering of pale, wart-like growths, and two baleen whale-like blowholes in the centre.

Ptolemaic Army

They have produced only one Mutated Soldier, known as the Ophidious Ptolemy Epsilon, commonly referred to as the "serpent guard".

The serpent guards are 9’ 3” (291.94 cm) androgynes that all possess fully functioning male genitalia resembling a stallion's penis with a shaft covered in spiky barbs. They're uncomfortably muscular with smooth, unblemished charcoal-black skin and a pitch black countenance. They have four glowing blue-violet eyes, a serpentine lilac tongue, and a mouth filled with crimson omnivorous teeth, complete with prominent canines. A massive, thick, and wild pitch black mane cascades down their back, reaching to the midpoint.

They possess two iridescent blue serpent tails, each twice their height, culminating in the venomous heads of horned vipers. These tails operate autonomously, possessing independent thought and motion. Furthermore, they’re uniquely capable of articulating human speech, distinguishing serpent guards from other Mutated Soldiers, who are mute and limited to primal, animalistic vocalisations.

Their legs are covered in fire-coloured plumage, culminating in copper-hued heterodactyl-like feet tipped with golden talons. They have four elongated arms with bony hands, six slender fingers tipped with thin golden claws, and two partially curved elbow spikes.

Behaviour

Level Delta: Bombers are the least sophisticated and fairly primal out of the Mutated Soldiers, sometimes bordering on mindlessness. They’re easily distracted by things they find beautiful or shiny, and can't help but stop to admire them, occasionally even reaching out to touch. When they become extremely focused, they begin to drool incessantly and their head tilts slightly. Despite being incapable of reproduction, they’re capable of experiencing pleasure and ecstasy through physical intimacy. Some seek out this feeling by engaging in affectionate interactions, such as touching and embracing, with humans, poisoners or other bombers.

Unlike other Mutated Soldiers, they’re primarily autonomous and work together in large groups to ambush prey. They’re unusually willing to share their food with other bombers or individuals they have grown particularly fond of. However, disputes may arise between bombers, often triggered by theft or refusal to share. Due to their autonomy, most bombers come across as extremely stubborn, going as far as to willfully ignore commands from their creators and soldiers they collaborate with.

They're incredibly sensitive to strong emotions, loud noises, and body language that communicates unspoken feelings. Depending on the situation, they respond with a range of emotions from extreme anger and intimidated fear to genuine curiosity, affectionate glee, and confused compassion. A few bombers have a habit of carefully reading the room to identify potential threats and opportunities as well as to gauge the current tension and emotions. However, most act on impulse, disregarding careful observation and safety precautions, especially when driven by extreme hunger.

During feeding time, they can be quite messy and have a tendency to leave behind partially consumed remains because they’re selective about the organs they prefer to eat. Their primary method of killing involves latching onto their enemy and self-detonating. However, some prefer to utilise their teeth strength and claws to rip their victims apart. A few of these bombers have even been known to manipulate soldiers from the army they're working with, coaxing them into killing specific targets that they desire to eat. The soldiers, fearful of incurring their wrath, inevitably comply with these demands.

Level Zeta: Poisoners are far more intelligent than the bombers, and only rely on primal instincts during feeding or when infuriated and logic fails to stop their enemies. Due to their strongly dedicated nature, they're quite obedient when following orders and rarely dismiss them. However, they'll disregard orders when feeling lethargic and lazy or if they deem them overly reckless. They get bored and slothful easily when they don't have any interesting tasks to fulfill or mentally and sensorially stimulating experiences, such as receiving physical affection from people or examining new objects.

They’re primarily solitary Mutated Soldiers who struggle to connect with others of their kind. They tend to either engage in brutal fights or dismiss each other's presence and heavily concentrate on their duties. However, they’re capable of collaborating with humans and bombers albeit in small groups. Larger groups trigger extreme social anxiety, causing them to hyperventilate and have difficulty with emotional regulation. They’re the most effective when working independently or with individuals they trust because this allows them to remain focused and efficient.

They're incapable of feeling sexual gratification, but they can experience a twisted sense of satisfaction when crushing their enemies to death. This is evident in their slow and deliberate squeezing of their prey, accompanied by playful mocking of their pained sounds. In stark contrast, they’re fairly platonic, especially with their favourite humans, and take pleasure in warm hugs and genuine praise. Some of these poisoners are curious about exploring sexual pleasure. In a few instances, they have attempted to satisfy this curiosity by kidnapping humans and using their tendrils and mouths to achieve orgasmic bliss, but these interactions have either resulted in severe harm or death to the humans involved.

Feeding is not particularly exciting for them, but they eat to satisfy their basic needs, replenish energy, and avoid wasting food. However, some have an aversion to sharing food, especially with their own kind, preferring to savour its nutritional value alone. They’re extremely cautious, taking time to trust and socially interact with humans and bombers. Once deployed, they meticulously study their surroundings, weighing options in an analytical and efficient manner. If provided with prior information, they swiftly respond to situations and leap into action.

Ophidious Ptolemy Epsilon: When compared to other Mutated Soldiers, Serpent Guards are not as well-documented due to their recent creation. However, some aspects of their behaviour are known. They possess intelligence comparable to that of chimpanzees, and some display arrogance, viewing those who aren’t as intelligent like them as "mentally stupid”. In extremely intense situations, they become emotionally overwhelmed, leading them to lose control of their instincts. Notably, they’re extremely obedient, never questioning orders or the beliefs of others. Their loyalty lies with the Avatar of Evil and Ptolemaios' cause because they believe themselves to be the descendants of the Ptolemaic Army's idol. This supposed ancestral connection leads them to believe they’ll be granted eternal life.

They occasionally operate in teams when ambushing a group of enemies, but they’re often solitary and only collaborate with others when it suits their interests. They’re willing to engage in conversation with both allies and adversaries, particularly if they find the individual intriguing and worthy of their attention. They exhibit extreme sadistic tendencies, deriving great pleasure from devising efficient methods to eliminate their enemies and subjecting them to brutal torture. Moreover, they’re easily aroused by sexual stimuli, which can distract them from their duties and prompt them to pursue the source of their arousal. They find the concept of breeding to be intensely thrilling, and when aroused, they display unusual affection and flirtatiousness.

Abilities

Level Delta: The bodies of bombers are covered in a thin layer of extremely sticky slime, resembling glistening grease, which they secrete from their pores. This allows them to adhere to solid surfaces, fabric, and skin, enabling them to effortlessly crawl on walls and ceilings and latch onto people. They can increase their blood pressure and activate the inorganic peroxides and sodium within their cellular structure and bloodstream. This causes their skin to turn scorching red, culminating in a destructive, fiery explosion that reduces their body to a gruesome, burning mess.

They possess remarkable durability, with bullets ricocheting off their bodies and dull knives breaking upon attempting to penetrate their skin. Additionally, they can withstand collisions with speeding Slug Mobiles, lava-hot environments, and freezing Arctic temperatures. They possess exceptional speed, allowing them to dodge many projectiles with ease and rapidly approach people with a velocity comparable to that of a golden eagle.

Level Zeta: The grotesque protrusion on the backs of poisoners contains a toxic gas that induces heart palpitations, instantaneous blindness, and gradual organ failure. This gas can only be released when the blowholes are fully open, causing the protrusion to become flaccid once it has been fully discharged. However, it rapidly regenerates more gas once the blowholes are closed.

Their black tendrils are highly sensitive, twitching in response to the presence of enemies and indicating the poisoner's readiness to attack. These tendrils constrict around the torsos and necks of their victims, inflicting a fatal crushing force that pulverises bones and organs. Simultaneously, the urchin-like spikes protruding from the tendrils pierce through the victims' bodies, eliminating any possibility of escape.

They possess exceptional durability, capable of withstanding the impact of being run over by the Rebel Army's smaller tanks and being struck by a train traveling at subsonic speeds. Additionally, they can endure extreme temperatures that melt rock and freeze liquid as well as withstand piercing ammunition. Their speed is equally impressive, allowing them to run as fast as a pronghorn and effortlessly dodge most projectiles. They possess extraordinary strength, capable of lifting an entire subway train and hurling it at people with minimal effort.

Ophidious Ptolemy Epsilon: Serpent guards possess the ability to create the undead by vomiting a dark blue variant of the orange goo typically produced by regular zombies. This goo is forcefully expelled into the mouths of fallen individuals, inducing a zombification process. Once transformed, the serpent guards generate necromantic pheromones through pores on their torsos. When inhaled, these pheromones establish a psychic link, granting the serpent guards telepathic control over the zombies' actions.

The right serpent tail is capable of spraying four gallons of highly acidic venom, potent enough to burn through flesh and bone marrow when an enemy draws near. The left serpent tail features specialised glands that replace traditional venom glands, producing a highly flammable secretion instead. This secretion can be expelled through the mouth, creating a stream of fire to incinerate enemies.

They're as durable as a poisoner, but serpent guards can withstand being run over by all Ptolemaic Army land vehicles, and are as fast as a bomber. They can manipulate the shadows of their enemies, creating solidified spiked pillars that can impale them. Additionally, they can summon up to four pheasant-shaped spirits at once, which can slice through enemies by flying past them or dive-bombing them. They possess sufficient strength to cleanly sever the heads of enemies, spine intact, and lift and hurl the Metal Rear.

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

+ =

Imagine…being a single woman, wanting children but unable to (trauma/genetical) and about to lose hope with the donor bank when suddenly: you get those double lines in the pregnancy test you’ve forgotten to label so as to keep track of how many tries this was.

Your eyes go wide, one hand rising to cover your mouth as with a gasp. Sure you’ve been feeling under the weather for a few weeks but has chalked it up to the local bug. Were you imagining it?! Another test says the same result…then the third also. Was this real? With shaking hands, you call your OBGYN and schedule an appointment for first thing in the morning.

Sure enough, almost twelve hours later, tears are spilling down your cheeks as that faint little “thmp-thmp-thmp-thmp”. Then you hear the words you’d never thought gracefully your ears: “Congratulations! You’re about 10 weeks along!”

Returning home with the ultrasound pictures of the tiny peanut makes you feel like crying again as you sit on the couch. After years and years of hoping, praying, séances, hoodoo, anything to get you pregnant…it’s finally come. Your dream has finally come true!

Pulled by gravity, your gaze drifts to the stack of files on the table. That’s right…it’s your responsibility to let the bank know. What’s supposed to be a quick phone call turns into something you never dreamed: the donor had requested the samples to be withdrawn and the one you had used was overlooked.

Shit.

The donor bank sincerely apologized for the trouble before they dropped the bomb on you that they would have to inform the donor.

Double shit.

And that they recommend you prepare for the donor to possibly appear in your life not for explanation but to simply be involved. It honestly sounded like the donor had made the donation by means of a dare or some “incident”, the decision to do so sounded as if it had been made against his will if you were to make assumptions.

Or perhaps a few days later you happen to run into him by accident while grocery shopping and can’t reach the top shelf… Maybe you are purchasing some items to get the nursery ready and your card is declining for some reason yet he so happens to be the person behind you and pays for your things before catching your name but he doesn’t tell you who he is.

One day, as you’re trying to satisfy a food aversion by throwing away all the tomatoes in the place, you open the door to toss the offensive red acidic produce item into the dumpster is when you catch him standing there…on your doorstep…looking as if he had been about to knock when in reality he is about to change the lives of you, his, and the baby you’re carrying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ukrainenews]

Russian investigators have confirmed that Wagner boss Yevgeny Prigozhin was among the 10 people killed when their plane crashed Wednesday, after carrying out genetic tests.

Prigozhin, who led a failed uprising against the Kremlin, had previously been named as one of those on board the private plane, which crashed in a field northwest of Moscow while en route to St. Petersburg, but until now authorities had stopped short of confirming he died.

“As part of the investigation of the plane crash in the Tver region, molecular genetic examinations have been completed,” a statement published on the Russia’s Investigative Committee’s Telegram channel read.

“According to their results, the identities of all 10 dead were established, they correspond to the list stated in the flight sheet,” It said.

Also killed was Dmitriy Utkin, a trusted lieutenant of Prigozhin’s since the beginning of the Wagner Group, and Valeriy Chekalov, a senior aide to Prigozhin. Three crew members died.

Prigozhin’s shadowy lifestyle and use of security precautions prompted rumors he was not on board. At a makeshift memorial for him in St. Petersburg this week CNN found a couple who thought Prigozhin’s death was orchestrated to allow the Wagner boss to be deployed onto other missions to benefit Russia.

The crash came two months to the day after Prigozhin’s attempted mutiny against Russia’s military leadership.

Prigozhin was once an elusive figure, who grew in prominence after his Wagner group delivered some rare battlefield successes for Russia in its invasion of Ukraine. But he became an increasingly strident critic of the Russian campaign and its leadership.

In June, Prigozhin and his Wagner troops seized key military sites and marched toward Moscow, where the Kremlin had deployed heavily armed troops to the streets. But before they could face off, a deal was struck that ended the rebellion and sent Prigozhin and his fighters to neighboring Belarus.

It marked the biggest challenge to Russian President Vladimir Putin’s rule in 23 years. It also painted a target on Prigozhin’s back, with some experts speculating the warlord was a dead man walking.

It is not clear yet what caused the crash, but US and western intelligence officials that CNN has spoken to believe it was deliberate. US President Joe Biden suggested on Wednesday that Putin may have been involved. “I don’t know for a fact what happened, but I’m not surprised,” he said.

To date, no evidence has been presented that points to the involvement of the Kremlin or Russian security services in the crash. The cause of the incident remains unknown and Russian authorities have launched a criminal investigation.

[thechanelmuse]

Hackers Selling Stolen Customer DNA Data From 23AndMe, Company Faces Class Action Lawsuit

Oct. 9, 2023

Biotech company 23andMe Inc. allegedly failed to protect the genetic information of thousands of people that was exposed in a data breach announced Oct. 6, a proposed federal class action said.

Monica Santana and Paula Kleynburd alleged that 23andMe, a provider of genetic testing services, maintained their personal information in a reckless manner and failed to use reasonable and adequate measures to keep their data safe.

Information exposed in the breach included names, sex, date of birth, genetic ancestry results, profile photos, and geographical location, according to a complaint filed Monday in the US District Court for the Northern District of California.

Some of the information has appeared for sale online, including that of prominent figures such as Mark Zuckerberg, Elon Musk and Sergey Brin, according to a press account cited in the lawsuit.

The company also failed to provide prompt and adequate notice of the incident, the complaint said. 23andMe didn’t respond immediately to a Bloomberg Law request for comment.

Read more

See 🤷🏽‍♀️. Willingly giving up your DNA to a genetic testing company that's a test done for entertainment purposes for what? Didn't this happen before or was that GedMatch. It doesn't mention it in this article, but the one I read about a week ago stated that the 23andMe hackers were going after data for those showing results for Ashkenazi and Chinese descent. The timing is rather...interesting.

I was waiting for this shit to hit the fan. 23andMe was tryna be subtle about the whole thing. "When asked about the post, the company initially denied that the information was legitimate, calling it a 'misleading claim.'"

Whole time:

Now the shit going to the highest bidders. Chile.

[anjaliverma123]

Pregnancy : Risks and Complications

Pregnancy is often depicted as a time of joy and anticipation, but it's also a period that comes with its own set of risks and potential complications. While many pregnancies proceed smoothly, it's essential for expectant parents to be aware of the various risks and complications that can arise during gestation. Understanding these factors can help individuals navigate their pregnancy journey more confidently and make informed decisions about their prenatal care. In this blog post, we'll explore some of the common risks and complications associated with high - risk pregnancy, along with preventive measures and potential treatments.

Understanding Pregnancy Risks

Pregnancy involves numerous physiological changes in a woman's body, aimed at supporting the development of a growing fetus. While these changes are natural and necessary, they can also increase the likelihood of certain health risks and complications. Some of the key factors contributing to pregnancy risks include:

Maternal Age

Advanced maternal age (typically defined as 35 years and older) is associated with an increased risk of various pregnancy complications, including gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, and chromosomal abnormalities such as Down syndrome.

Pre-existing Medical Conditions

Women with pre-existing medical conditions such as diabetes, hypertension, thyroid disorders, or autoimmune diseases may face additional challenges during pregnancy. These conditions can exacerbate pregnancy-related complications and require close monitoring by healthcare providers.

Lifestyle Factors

Smoking, alcohol consumption, substance abuse, and poor nutrition can all contribute to pregnancy risks. These factors not only affect maternal health but can also negatively impact fetal development and increase the likelihood of birth defects and other complications.

Common Pregnancy Complications

Despite advances in prenatal care, certain complications can arise during pregnancy, posing risks to both the mother and the developing baby. Some of the most common pregnancy complications include:

Gestational Diabetes

Gestational diabetes occurs when blood sugar levels rise during pregnancy, leading to potential complications such as macrosomia (large birth weight), preterm birth, and an increased risk of cesarean delivery. Proper management through diet, exercise, and medication is essential to minimize risks to both mother and baby.

Preeclampsia

Preeclampsia is a serious condition characterized by high blood pressure and signs of organ damage, typically occurring after 20 weeks of pregnancy. If left untreated, preeclampsia can lead to complications such as eclampsia (seizures), placental abruption, and maternal/fetal death. Close monitoring and prompt medical intervention are crucial for managing preeclampsia.

Preterm Labor

Preterm labor, or premature birth, refers to the onset of labor before 37 weeks of pregnancy. Premature infants may face various health challenges, including respiratory distress syndrome, developmental delays, and long-term disabilities. Identifying risk factors and receiving appropriate prenatal care can help reduce the likelihood of preterm labor.

Miscarriage

Miscarriage, or spontaneous abortion, refers to the loss of a pregnancy before 20 weeks gestation. While miscarriages are relatively common, experiencing recurrent miscarriages or late-term pregnancy loss can be emotionally devastating for couples. Understanding the potential causes of miscarriage and seeking support from healthcare providers and support groups can help individuals cope with this loss.

Birth Defects

Birth defects are structural or functional abnormalities present at birth, ranging from mild to severe. These abnormalities may result from genetic factors, environmental exposures, or a combination of both. Prenatal testing, including ultrasound scans and genetic screening, can help identify potential birth defects early in pregnancy, allowing for informed decision-making and appropriate medical management.

Preventive Measures and Prenatal Care

While it's impossible to eliminate all pregnancy risks and complications, there are several steps individuals can take to optimize their chances of a healthy pregnancy outcome:

Preconception Planning:

Planning for pregnancy involves optimizing maternal health before conception through regular exercise, a balanced diet, supplementation (e.g., folic acid), and managing pre-existing medical conditions. Consulting with a healthcare provider before conception can help identify and address potential risk factors.

Regular Prenatal Check-ups:

Attending regular prenatal appointments allows healthcare providers to monitor maternal and fetal well-being, identify any potential complications early, and provide appropriate interventions as needed. These appointments typically include physical examinations, ultrasound scans, and laboratory tests to assess maternal and fetal health.

Healthy Lifestyle Choices:

Adopting a healthy lifestyle during pregnancy, including abstaining from smoking, alcohol, and illicit drugs, maintaining a balanced diet, staying physically active (with healthcare provider approval), and managing stress, can help reduce the risk of pregnancy complications and promote optimal fetal development.

Education and Support:

Educating oneself about pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum care can empower expectant parents to make informed decisions and advocate for their health and the health of their baby. Joining prenatal classes, seeking support from healthcare professionals, and connecting with other expectant parents can provide valuable guidance and reassurance throughout the pregnancy journey.

Conclusion

Pregnancy is a unique and transformative experience, but it's important to recognize that it comes with inherent risks and potential complications. By understanding these risks, taking proactive measures to optimize maternal health, and receiving comprehensive prenatal care, expectant parents can maximize their chances of a healthy pregnancy and childbirth. While some complications may be unavoidable, early detection, prompt intervention, and ongoing support can help mitigate their impact and ensure the best possible outcomes for both mother and baby. Remember, every pregnancy is different, and seeking guidance from healthcare professionals is crucial for personalized care and support throughout the journey to parenthood.

[lire-casander]

#31 always pointing out certain annoying behaviour

always pointing out certain annoying behaviour original prompt list here

Carlos is tapping his foot on the ground.

It wouldn't be annoying to TK any other time, but today, as they wait for the results of his genetic test on Huntington's disease, Carlos’ nervousness is grating TK’s nerves.

He places a hand on Carlos’ thigh to calm him down a little, but it is to no avail. Carlos stops his fidgeting for a few seconds, but the moment TK’s hand leaves Carlos’ thigh, the tapping resumes.

"Carlos," he calls out in a soft voice. He doesn't want to disturb the rest of the patients in the waiting room. "Babe, stop it, please."

"Stop what?" Carlos asks, looking at him with a frown. "I'm not doing anything."

TK swallows a sigh and counts to three before replying, "The fidgeting. You're making me, and everyone else here, nervous."

"I'm not fidgeting," Carlos defends himself.

"Every time you're nervous, you tap your feet," TK points out. "It's adorable the first few seconds, but after a minute it becomes annoying."

"So you find me annoying?"

TK counts to ten this time. "I haven't said that. Your fidgeting can be a bit too much, more so when we're in a hospital waiting room. I know you're nervous, I am too. No need to add to that, okay?"

Carlos shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to—I don't know, annoy you or anyone else. I didn't realize—"

"It's okay," TK reassures him. He places his hand once again on Carlos’ thigh and squeezes softly. "It's the same when you tell me to stop clicking my pen or munching on it when I'm studying."

"Well, this is a bit more serious than just studying," Carlos says. "But you're right. No need to add more pressure. We're already too agitated. But your results will be negative, you'll see. You won't have the gene."

TK smiles at his fiancé. He thinks he's really lucky to have Carlos in his life, with his positive and collected attitude even when he should be freaking out.

Until Carlos starts tapping his foot on the floor again.

TK sighs and places his hand on Carlos’ thigh for the third time in a row, keeping it in place. If contact is the only way to calm Carlos down, TK will do everything in his power to keep touching his fiancé.

As if it were such a hardship, he thinks to himself.

He only removes his hand when a nurse calls his name, requesting them follow her into the doctor's office.