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one-winged-dreams · 2 years

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Understanding

ship: you’re so cold (coldstone x adriel) word count: 900 cw: themes of DID, implications of past trauma

DID solidarity fic, anyWAY-

The emotion holder had been the one fronting when he arrived, it was that fact that should have tipped him off, angry and vindictive as he was.

But Coldstone never minded. If he loved Adriel, he loved him in his entirety, just as the human did himself.

Casual conversation was not impossible with this one, though he was standoffish and generally all-around volatile. After a simple conversation did that volatility erupt, the gargoyle not even knowing what it was that set him off in the first place.

But here he was now, attempting to talk him down like he seldom did.

"I know you are frustrated, but you need to calm yourself," he spoke with concern but not so gently that he would be accused of being condescending.

"YOU'RE going to tell ME that I'm frustrated!?" It was a strange sight, hearing that foreign voice come out of his beloved human. Difficult to get used to admittedly, but again, he didn't mind.

"Yes, I am. Please, consider how you are acting right now. Your frustration is palpable, perhaps you should try reigning it in," it was a harmless suggestion, but it only further provoked the alter.

"OF COURSE I'm fucking frustrated! I hate this! I hate being here, I hate having to exist bound to this- this CRAZY GUY!" the emotion holder gestured wildly.

"But you exist, regardless if you had a choice in the matter," Coldstone attempted to bring some realism into the conversation. Adriel had always told him his belief system was always tinged with rationality, there was always something visceral to behold. So now he was trying to follow that same system with one of the ones that occupied his body.

"THAT'S THE ENTIRE POINT!" the holder shouted, throwing his arms out to his sides.

"Calm do-"

"NO! I will NOT fucking calm down! You listen to me for a goddamn second! Do you know how disgustingly unfair it is for me? For US!?"

Coldstone quirked a brow, folding his arms and listening as the holder began to bring the bigger picture into observation.

"We're not the one who made us this way! We never got a say in ANY of it!" the holder seemed absolutely burning with vindictive fury. "We're going to be like this for the rest of our life, and for what!?"

"I will continue to listen, but again, please, try to calm yourself," Coldstone approached, and the alter practically snarled like a wild dog.

"I CAN'T! THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT!" the holder was quiet for a moment, his narrowed eyes peering into Coldstone's. "Do you know what I do? What I'm here for?" he wasn't shouting anymore, but his tone still held a dangerous edge. "I HOLD THE FEELINGS! THE RAGE! THE PAIN! I HOLD ON TO ALL OF IT, AND I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO LET IT GO! EVER!"

Coldstone was closer now, towering over the form of the human he had come to love, currently inhabited by one that did not so much take comfort in his presence, nor his words.

"You all did not deserve what happened to you, and the fact that your existence hinges on this travesty is understandable to despair over, Holder," he called him this because he refused to share his name with anyone but Adriel, "But that is not all you exist to do. Regardless of whether it is your primary purpose, you are all entitled to heal."

The holder seethed for a moment, glaring murderously before letting out a frustrated yell. "It doesn't WORK that way! You of all people should understand, so WHY DON'T YOU!? WHY DON'T YOU GET IT!?"

Coldstone caught his arms as they raised as if to grab his own hair. An expression of shock crossed the holder's features, though his brow was still knit with anger.

The gargoyle seemed to be within himself for a moment, as if listening to someone, before speaking, softly, honestly. "We do. Maybe it is you who does not."

The expression of shock widened before it became a wince, and suddenly there was an absence, only for a swift moment.

"Coldstone?" the voice of his beloved human had returned, his face not physically changing but still appearing oh so different.

"Hello, little one," the gargoyle did not seem phased at all as he released one of Adriel's arms to gently tuck his hair behind his ear.

"Who was here?" the human blinked, being released entirely to rub at his head.

"Your holder. We had a relatively volatile conversation but I would like to think it was enlightening towards the end."

Adriel frowned, looking down at the ground. "Hm. I'm not sure he's the enlightening type."

"I did not mean enlightening for me," Coldstone elaborated vaguely.

Adriel blinked before smiling weakly. "Gave him something to think about, huh? That sounds pretty appropriate," his expression softened further. "Thank you. We'll all try to make sure you get a warmer reception next time you visit."

Coldstone smiled, gently stroking the side of the human's face. "You know I do not mind your company in any state you," he tapped the side of Adriel's head with a clawed finger, "or them, may be in, I assure you... We assure you."

Adriel smiled more openly now, placing a hand on the gargoyle's metallic chest. "Thank you. Both of you."

Coldstone took the outstretched hand in his own. "Always."

#self ship #self shipping #dream fics #you're so cold

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the-glade-backrooms · 2 years

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Ok, last post we’re making on Moon Knight for today. We have so much to say on this, holy shit.

TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of child neglect, verbal abuse/manipulation, emotional manipulation, and abuse in general. We talk a lot about our own trauma in comparison to Marc’s. (We know sharing trauma online is unsafe. This is a very small portion of our trauma that we are comfortable sharing.)

CONTENT WARNING: Moon Knight Episode 5 spoilers

DISCLAIMER: This is our personal experience! Not all systems will feel the same as us! We also may have some grammatical errors, this was a long post. We tried our best to correct what we found.

Ok. This episode? Big oof. We were not prepared for it. But let’s get into it.

I want to finish on a happier note, so straight into the trauma. Seeing a character we already relate to because of their disorder suddenly also have similar trauma to yours is oddly healing. We hate knowing that others have gone through what we have, but at the same time it makes feel like we’re not alone. We weren’t the only one to feel these terrible feelings about ourself. For a PG-14 show, Marvel wasn’t really holding anything back, and we actually appreciate that. A warning may have been nice, but they also kind of were warning us the because the whole episode was about uncovering trauma.

Anyways, seeing young Marc curled up on the floor as far as he could be from the door while covering his ears made us feel seen. That was us. We did that. It’s fucked up in so many ways, but fuck if we didn’t tear up because we saw ourself in him. Our abuser always blamed us for everything, even when it was other people’s fault or out of our control. They never showed up for important moments in our life because we just weren’t enough and they “had their own things to work through”. The violet shouting and the loud bangs of door slamming or walls being hit. Being told we were always a certain way and would never change because it was ingrained into us. We never dealt with a sibling dying, but we sure knew what it felt like to be compared to them in a negative way and told we were all of their worst flaws in one body. It’s disgusting to watch it happen to someone else, but we understand Marc on a very deep level because that was us. Seeing representation of similar trauma to ours is actually kind of healing.

We also want to (un)kindly say FUCK YOU Harrow and Khonshu! What the fuck. Never, ever, call someone with OSDDID “broken”. Just don’t call anyone “broken”. The amount of absolute rage we felt when they called the Moon Knight system “broken” probably wasn’t even healthy. The manipulation tactics and name calling was just, uncalled for. We know it’s fiction, but damn if it’s didn’t hurt. They didn’t deserve that. We are not our trauma. Having trauma doesn’t make you “broken”. It’s literally a coping mechanism. We honestly couldn’t care less about Khonshu after seeing that scene.

Now, I’m going to talk for a bit. I’m Tene, I’m the host of this system. Like Steven, I was made to be the “normal” alter, the one to do everyday things. This is called an Apparently Normal Part (ANP). I am a lot like Steven. I had a major meltdown when realizing I was part of a system. I either don’t remember trauma or I remember it differently than everyone else. I have fought with my trauma holders over trauma. But when I calm down and look at things with a clear mind, I can see denying it happened isn’t going to help. The line Steven said, something along the line of “you were a kid, it wasn’t your fault”? The whole system felt that one. We were all sobbing. And I realize that I feel the same way. Marc was trying to protect Steven, just like my protectors were trying to protect me. We were a fucking kid. We shouldn’t have gone through that. But we did and we deal with it every day, one step at a time. They did what they felt was needed to keep us safe and alive. I will eventually know what happened. I will eventually have the full picture. But having it all now would probably make us split more and we’d forget more and that’s just, unhealthy. Working through what I have now is enough as is.

I would also like to say that your should never do what Marc and Steven did!!! Working through trauma can take years! Please, do not rush through it! It will hurt you more than help you! The only reason they got through it so fast and with little consequence was because it was a TV show with limited time. Please please please don’t try to rush through your healing process.

On our final note, Steven being a fictive??! We are an introject heavy system, so we were ecstatic! Fictive representation on a big production such as Moon Knight is so important, especially because people think systems are faking if they have an introject/too many introjects. We are very real! Believe it or not, even singlets have moments of interjection where they act like someone they know. Maybe you have someone you really look up to, so you start copying their facial expressions or body language. Introjects are kind of like that, but an actual alter is formed because the brain though the system needed them. Seeing Steven being formed because Marc saw his source as fearless made us really happy because we did that. Most of our introjects were formed as protection or comfort, so we understood why Steven was split.

All in all, we actually enjoyed the representation in this episode. Yes, Moon Knight does not always get representation of OSDDID right, but this episode did a pretty damn good job. Props to the writers, and to Oscar Isaac for his absolutely phenomenal performance. We finally felt seen for once.

#moon knight #marvel #marvel moon knight #dissosiative identity disorder #actually did #actually system #anti endo #endo dni #long post #tw abuse #tw manipulation #tw trauma

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lala-ladybug · 3 years

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Healing Hands: Chapter 5

Can you say ~trauma~?

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

First | Previous | Next

Chapter 5: Yes, Dick? You’re looking particularly dickish today

After so much commotion, the silence as they sat made Marinette’s ears ring. She and her Order were gathered in the spacious living room of Chloe’s house. After checking to make sure it was empty, she and the other miraculous holders had reassured their civilian classmates and sent them off to bed. They’d spent the better part of the day getting out of the overcrowded town. Thank Kwami they hadn’t still been travelling after the sun went down, but the noises from the woods still kept them all awake. Kagami had dug out a teapot from the kitchen cabinets and brewed several mugs for those who had needed one. No one was hungry.

Marinette’s hands shook slightly as she sipped her tea. That was another blessing, that Chloe’s VIP pass included a partially stocked kitchen to begin with. They would explore the rest of the house tomorrow, but for now, while the others rested.... They needed to talk.

She set her cup down with a sound that was amplified in the heavy quiet, then took a deep breath. “Okay....” The words felt strange in her mouth. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Can anyone sense their Kwami?”

She looked around at the blank faces of her friends as they all tried to reach for their respective powers. Chloe’s lip trembled, but her eyes were dry. Luka and Kagami’s jaws clenched, and Adrien frowned as he shook his head.

“None of us can, then,” Luka stated evenly, finally voicing what she’d been afraid of.

Marinette bit her lip. Kagami placed her cup of tea down forcefully. “What are we going to do.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement.

Marinette rubbed her eyes. Kwami, what could they do? They should count themselves lucky they weren’t dead yet. She could only imagine her Maman and Papa’s panic, but they hadn’t tried to pull her out, so she hadn’t....

They could still die though, if what the Game Master had said was true. If their HP dropped to zero, they would die. There was no Second Chance or Lucky Charm this time. But they were still likely among the best trained people in the game. Her mind was made up.

“We fight.” She finally said with all the confidence she could muster. “There are thousands of civilians stuck in here with us, so we need to fight for them. We need to beat the level bosses in order to advance, right?” The question was rhetorical, but Chloe nodded and Kagami blinked in affirmation all the same.

“Good,” Marinette stood up. “We will be the ones to fight these bosses. So they don’t have to. Think about it, even without our Kwami, we still have an edge on everyone else here. The faster we beat the game, the faster they can go home.”

“And us too!” Adrien jumped up with a smile. “And us too,” Marinette echoed.

Luka drained his tea and stood next. “So it’s settled then,” he put a hand on her shoulder, steady as ever.

“Indeed,” Kagami rose beside them.

Chloe stared up at them, eyes wide. “You really think we can do this?” She asked in a small voice.

Marinette looked her in the eye and said, “I know we can.” The blonde released a small sigh and stood as well. A gleam of determination entered her eye as she said, “Okay. Let’s go save everyone from this ridiculous game.”

* * *

Jason, Jaime, Cassie, and Zatanna returned to the center of town. It was nearly deserted now, the murky twilight creating pockets of shadows around the square, perfect for hiding lurking figures. But it was nothing Jason couldn’t handle. In fact, with his current mood, he damn well dared them to try.

They’d spent hours hacking away at the wild boars, Jaime even joining in as his allergies permitted him. The four had gained a few player levels and a decent amount of money and loot. But damn if it wasn’t tiring as hell.

His crossbow was much more taxing than using guns, and it used different muscles in his shoulders and arms than he was accustomed to working. He could tell the others were similarly weighed down by exhaustion. Cassie’s whip demanded an endurance she wasn’t used to without her super strength, Jaime’s throws of a handaxe grew increasingly shorter the longer they fought, and Zatanna wasn’t used to fighting with physical weapons at all. It took everything they had left to drag themselves back into town.

One of the shadows a few feet away swam with sudden movement. Jason equipped his crossbow, arms shaking with the effort of just holding it. Damnit, now was not a good time, but he’d still fight these bastards with everything he had.

He relaxed when he saw it was Dick and the rest of Team Alpha approaching. Putting his weapon away, Jason crossed his arms and planted his feet firmly. Dick better have gotten them those fucking beds for the night.

“We’re just waiting on Beta,” Dick said in a low voice. “Then we can go to the inn and regroup.” The others could regroup. Jason would be heading right to sleep. He stalked over to the brick wall Bart sat slumped against and leaned his shoulder against it. The cool roughness grounded him and kept his eyes open.

He distantly heard Zatanna telling Dick that they had made out okay in the west. Unnecessary talking when there were other players listening nearby. He swallowed against the urge to forcibly silence them that was rising in his blood. It sang with the persistent thrum of battle, unshakable as it was insistent. He closed his eyes and counted his breaths. One. Breathe out and picture a color. Blue. Breathe in. Two. Out. Yellow. In. Three. Out. Green.

He’d barely reached ten by the time Tim led his group back to join them. The song in his blood stilled for now, he pushed off of the wall and followed as Dick and Wally guided them to the inn. He hardly registered his surroundings as they entered and divvied up the rooms. He, Dick, Tim, and Wally were in one room, the girls in another, and the other boys in a third. The place seemed clean enough as he cast his tired eyes around the tavern.

They climbed the stairs to their rooms and settled in each. Dick and Tim sat on their beds talking about going to the other boys’ room-- the largest of the three-- to discuss strategy. Jason hardly heard them as his head hit the pillow and he fell asleep.

* * *

The warmth of the early morning sun on her face woke Marinette up. She stretched and yawned, wincing at her soreness. Sometimes this game was a little too realistic. In the bed beside hers, Chloe grumbled something about the girls’ room having no curtains over the window and rolled over.

Marinette gave a strained smile at that. She quietly dressed and descended the ladder from their small loft to where the rest of the girls were still sleeping, and tip-toed out to the hall.

Down the stairs was the kitchen, empty save for a softly steaming tea kettle that meant Kagami and Luka would soon be joining her. She prepared dough to make fresh croissants as she had every couple of days for the past few weeks since they’d been trapped in the game.

The thought briefly gave her pause, that they’d already been here for close to a month, but she shook it off and formed the croissants onto the baking tray. She slid them into the oven just as Kagami and Luka trailed in from the garden. They’d been harvesting the already-ripe blueberries, and laid a heaping basket of them on the countertop.

Chloe’s VIP pass had saved their lives and then some. It came with a comfortably sized house that included a full kitchen, sitting area, storage room, balcony, two massive bedrooms with enough room to house all twelve of them, a garden ready to be planted in, and stables already stocked with several horses. It really was luxurious, and if they weren’t trapped in the game, she would have found it much more enjoyable.

The property also included a small pond that had proved to give a refreshing swim after training sessions, a well, and a few acres of woods. The latter was where they did most of their monster-training. Marinette had already reached a player level of 10 just by fighting the various denizens of their backyard. The rest of the new Order wasn’t far behind her, ranging from levels 7 to 10 between the four of them.

“Good morning, Marihime,” Kagami inclined her head respectfully, then poured the tea into three waiting mugs. Luka thanked her and shot Marinette a quick smile as way of greeting.

She nodded back and stirred a generous helping of sugar into her mug. The three sipped their tea while they waited for the croissants to bake. Once they were finished and cooling, Marinette and the others donned cloaks to protect against the morning chill and started their brisk morning walk into town.

The dirt path wound down to the base of the hill where several more paths for other player houses split off the main track that they now set on. The lush grass on either side was covered in a slight blanket of mist from the evaporating morning dew. Birds chirped high above, darting between the sparse trees. The walk took about a half hour, and their tea was nearly finished by the time they arrived at the outskirts of the city.

Kagami polished off her mug and placed it back in her inventory, then rested her hand warily on the hilt of her rapier as they began encountering more people. Their destination, a news stand, was thankfully not too close to the center of town. The less people they encountered, the better.

“Get your daily paper here! New news every day! Two copper pieces for a paper, one gold for a yearly subscription.” Marinette veered towards the NPC shouting her wares.

“Hi, one paper please,” she said breathlessly, and slid two copper pieces onto the counter.

“Here you go!” The vendor, an ample woman of thirty, took the coins and handed Marinette a folded newspaper with a smile. “You know, you’re one of my best customers. I’ll give you a deal,” she winked, “how about fifty silver for a yearly subscription!”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you miss, but I’m afraid we won’t be staying quite that long,” Marinette replied. At least, she hoped not.

“Very well dear, have a lovely day!” The NPC thankfully seemed unbothered, and went back to shouting her prices to the general population.

Luka and Kagami moved from their posts of casually guarding Marinette while she dealt with the woman manning the stall. The three set off back the way they’d come, ready for another day of training and exploring the first level.

Marinette unfolded the newspaper and skimmed the headlines while they walked, trusting her companions to keep an eye out for her. However, they weren’t expecting her to stop dead in her tracks. It took a moment for them to turn around and backtrack to where she stood staring intently at the paper in her hands.

“Holy Kwami....” She said, and read the article title again. “‘Exploration team finds boss dungeon entrance!’” She read aloud.

Luka moved to peer over her shoulder and read it alongside her. “You know what this means?” He asked with a small smile.

Kagami put her hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “We are on the path to ending this.”

* * *

Jason woke up to an empty house. It had only been a few weeks since the start of the game, and his idiot brothers were out in the village. Again. He groaned at the motion of swinging his legs off the bed to sit up. Training to get used to the in-game movements was getting old.

He stood and rubbed the back of his neck, loosening some of the stiffness that seemed to have soaked into his bones. He went downstairs to the spacious kitchen to get some fruits for breakfast. With twelve people to make money and collect resources, the team had made quick work of purchasing a large house to use as a base.

Grabbing a few apples for the road, Jason traced the now-familiar path to find Dick and a few of the others in a communal amphitheater. Bart and Wally were handing out flyers near the entrances, chatting people up and trying to convince them to come listen to where Dick and Tim were speaking below.

Jason took a seat next to Artemis, near the back. “At it again?” He asked her, crunching into his apple.

She was leaning forward to prop her elbows on her knees, her chin resting in cupped hands. “Yup,” she said, popping the “p.” She sighed and sat up. “All week, and we’ve only got a handful of recruits.”

“We’re all in this together after all,” Dick was saying loudly. “So join us to help end this game! I have a plan to train recruits for taking on the first level boss.”

Jason yawned. Same old fuckin’ stupid plan. There’s just no way to make risking your life sound enticing. “The others still out hunting?” He nudged Artemis’s knee with his own.

She nodded in affirmation, looking similarly discouraged and bored. He got up and started to leave, deciding to make himself useful and join the rest of the team in fighting.

“Jason!” A shout made him stop. He looked to the sky and muttered to himself about patience, then turned to face his brother. “Yes, Dick? You’re looking particularly dickish today.”

Dick crossed his arms. “Haha, very funny. If you’re not busy, I could really use you here spreading the word.”

“Look, people just don’t want to go up against something they’ve never faced before. Hell, half these dumbasses haven’t even been in a real fight before.” He shook his head. “This is a waste of time. I’m going to fight some monsters so that I can level up and be ready for when we inevitably face the big bad without these posers.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at that. “Now hold on a minute, we have no idea what we’re going up against here. We need a bigger group before we’re ready to go up against the boss. More than half of us aren’t up to par with our special moves out of the picture, and we’re still trying to figure out the gameplay.” He held his hands out placatingly. “An exploration group just found the probable location of the boss dungeon, so that’s half the battle already. We just need to wait for more recruits and a more solid plan.”

“So how long are we supposed to wait, Dick?” Jason asked incredulously. “A week? A month? A year? How many people are going to die while we ‘figure out’ how to do something we already damn well know how to do.” He poked an accusatory finger at Dick’s chest. “We’ve been training for weeks already, we can handle this.”

“I hear you Jay, but we have no idea what kind of a threat this is going to be. We need to take our time and--”

“What you need is a fucking backbone. We’re the best hope that thousands of people have at surviving! I say we train some more and then fight the damn thing ourselves, recruits or no.” He couldn’t believe Dick. Saving people was supposed to be his schtick, not Jason’s. “Hundreds of people have already died, in case you forgot, and this is only the first fucking level. Time is a luxury we do not have.”

Dick looked ready to retort when a young boy came up to him and tapped him on the elbow. “Excuse me, mister? I’m interested in recruitment!”

Jason took advantage of the distraction and stalked off towards the center of town. What a... well, Mr. and Mrs. Grayson picked a damn good name.

If Dick wanted to know what they were up against, then fine. He’d go find out for him.

#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justic #young justice fic

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kk095 · 5 years

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Workload

I felt creative in the past day or two and came up with this. It may need some additional tweaking, but I hope everyone likes the story! Also, I received a lot of positive feedback on my last story. I greatly appreciate that! 🙂

****

There's a common saying that goes “if you find a career you really like, you'll never have to work a day in your life.” For most people, the idea of this sounds fictitious, but it was a reality for Stephanie. Stephanie Crawford was a graduate of the prestigious Brown university, and went on to become a successful lawyer, specializing in corporate law and civil litigation. Being a lawyer was Stephanie's passion, willfully devoting large sums of time to her career, foregoing the opportunity to experience other life milestones such as marriage and children; Stephanie is someone that could be labeled a “workaholic.”

Even though Stephanie worked around the clock, her looks never suffered as a result of her high stress, high pressure job. Stephanie was a 37 year old white woman with brown hair that was slightly past her shoulders with angled bangs. She had blue eyes, a semi tan complexion, was 5'4, and had a slim build. Stephanie had a very classy, sophisticated appearance and had a refined demeanor.

This particular case started long before Stephanie was brought to our emergency department. Stephanie was at the office after normal business hours working on her latest case. The case involved something known as “frustration of purpose”, a scenario where contractual obligations become impossible for both parties to satisfy because of unforeseen circumstances. These scenarios can be quite messy and complicated, but Stephanie was always up for the task.

Stephanie was sorting through paperwork, working on her computer, eating take out dinner, and was the only person at the office. Stephanie was at work for almost 12 hours at that point, and she barely slept the night before. The 37 year old decided to call it a night and head home. Little did she know, the drive home would be anything but routine.

The roads were relatively empty at that time in the evening. It had rained earlier in the day, so the roads were still a bit wet. On the way home, Stephanie was focusing on everything except driving. She took a turn a little too fast and slipped on a wet spot, losing control of her car and crashing it into a utility pole on the side of the road, wrecking her brand new BMW.

Everything happened so fast. Her chest hit the steering wheel milliseconds before the airbag deployed, with the airbag smacking her in the face, sending her back quickly. The lap portion of her seatbelt tightened up, pressing exceptionally hard on her abdomen. The windshield cracked, sending a handful of small glass shards flying towards Stephanie, causing lacerations to her face and neck.

Stephanie wasn't in any pain immediately, but had some minor breathing difficulties. She was in a frenzied state due to a sudden rush of adrenaline and endorphins. Believe it or not, she reached for her cell phone and called 911 for herself.

EMS responded to the scene of the accident within a few minutes of her 911 call. The driver's side door had to be cut off by the fire department since it wouldn't open and Stephanie was in a confined space, unable to move.

The extraction took somewhat long. The fire department had to set up several types of mechanical equipment so they were able to remove the door from the mangled, black BMW. A feeling of nervousness consumed Stephanie while the mechanical device started crunching and pulling at her car door. The scene became very loud as a result, causing sensory overload to a minor degree. Stephanie was holding back tears, but kept her composure. “I'm ok. Everything's going to be just fine” Stephanie kept thinking to herself, unaware that she would be in the hospital morgue in just a little while.

Once the door was removed, paramedics placed a c-collar on her. Stephanie's seatbelt was cut, and she was carefully wiggled out of the confined space she was trapped in, and placed onto a backboard. Paramedics carried the backboard over to a stretcher, where they placed Stephanie. She was wheeled into the ambulance, and rushed to the nearest hospital.

During the ambulance ride, paramedics set up 2 large bore IVs and hung normal saline. Stephanie's top was cut off by the medics, exposing her toned body and black bra. She was set up on a heart monitor; her vitals were: BP 92/68, heart rate 124bpm with a thready pulse, and her oxygen saturation was at 95%. Stephanie complained of shortness of breath, so the paramedics placed a nasal cannula to help with breathing difficulties. Further along into transport, she began to complain of soreness in her chest, and she started to feel some stinging from lacerations on her face and neck. Stephanie was given a dose of lidocaine to take the edge off of the pain she was experiencing.

Approximately 7 minutes later, Stephanie arrived at the hospital. She was experiencing increased pain levels upon arrival at the emergency department, wincing and groaning, trying her very best to fight through the intensifying pain.

Stephanie was now in the trauma bay. She laid on the table, staring up at the blinding overhead light. She felt a nurse at the other end of the bed removing her shoes and the rest of her clothes while more people entered the room. Stephanie became more apprehensive, wondering what was coming next. She started feeling vulnerable for the first time in awhile due to her lack of control over her current situation; all she could do was wait.

The trauma team was finally fully assembled and began ordering tests and beginning their initial examination of the injured lawyer. The attending physician ordered trauma labs, a chest x ray, an echocardiogram, an abdominal ultrasound, and made sure that blood products were on standby.

The chest x ray showed a moderate pneumothorax on the right side with left sided tracheal deviation. There was some bruising and redness on the middle of her chest from the steering wheel injury. A nurse snipped off Stephanie's black bra, putting her b cup breasts on display. The echocardiogram revealed a myocardial contusion with fluid in the pericardium. The abdominal ultrasound showed minor, non specific bleeding that was likely to heal on its own, but worthy of monitoring. The main concerns were the collapsed lung and activity within the pericardium.

Stephanie's symptoms continued getting worse. She began complaining of heart palpitations and feeling cold in the seconds following the tests. Her blood pressure was still low, her heart rate was up in the 130s, and her o2 levels were dropping. Stephanie was visibly uncomfortable, writhing in pain. A nurse told the attractive lawyer to stay still and remain calm.

The trauma team was greatly concerned over Stephanie's deterioration. They had to urgently place a chest tube, and didn't have time to sedate their patient. A round of pain medications were pushed intravenously, and the procedure commenced. A 1inch incision was made in between her ribs on the right side. Stephanie moaned, feeling the scalpel's every move. Stephanie shouted and cried out in pain while the chest tube was being shoved into the small incision site.

All of the air that was trapped inside of Stephanie's chest cavity was blasted through the tube, and out of her body. Although her breathing improved a bit, Stephanie was still in pain and her vital signs weren't improving. Stephanie was breathing rapidly and appeared distressed. The attending physician was concerned about her worsening condition and wanted to make sure her airway wasn't lost, so it was decided that Stephanie would be intubated. Rapid sequence orotracheal intubation was performed. Stephanie was now unconscious from the intubation sedatives, with the metal blade of the laryngoscope leaning on the roof of her mouth, while a 7.0 ET tube was being navigated into her airway. Once the breathing tube was in place, a blue tube holder was connected to secure the tube.

Following the intubation, the trauma team decided to perform a pericardiocentesis to remove some of the excess fluid in their patient's pericardium. A fine needle was placed through the skin at the infrasternal angle in a subxiphoid approach, meaning the needle was navigated under the sternum and left ribcage, into the lining of the heart. After an echocardiogram confirmed correct placement, a small catheter was attached to the needle, which was connected to a collection bag. At first, a small amount of blood and pericardial fluid was aspirated. Seemingly out of nowhere, a large amount of bright red, arterial blood rushed into the catheter's collection bag. “what the hell?” thought the attending physician. “page cardio. She didn't cut the aorta because she would've died already, but whatever's going on in there is pretty serious.” Ordered the attending physician with a sense of urgency.

Stephanie's condition was much worse by the time the cardiothoracic surgeon arrived. Her blood pressure was dangerously low, and distant heart sounds were heard through the stethoscope. The cardiothoracic surgeon ordered a repeat echo and hung 2 units of blood products from the rapid infuser.

Before the repeat echocardiogram could be performed, Stephanie became pulseless. The pericardiocentesis catheter was carefully removed, with chest compressions commencing immediately afterwards. The lawyer's chest was pumped robustly while the defibrillator paddles were being gelled and charged. The paddles were charged to 250j and pressed up against Stephanie's bare chest. Once everyone backed away, shock #1 was delivered. Stephanie's torso rose upwards, arching her back for a brief moment before returning to her previous position. The heart monitors showed V-Fib, so a round of drugs and cycle of compressions were performed during the handful of seconds it took for the defibrillator to recharge.

The paddles were charged to 300j and placed back onto Stephanie's chest, releasing a stronger current of electricity. Stephanie's body jolted violently on the table. Her arms tensed up and her head lolled to the side, with the monitors still chirping in the background.

Shock #2 did nothing to better the situation, so a 3rd shock at 360j was delivered moments later. The 37 year old's body flopped on the table. Her feet jumped into the air an inch or so above the table and crashed back down, showing off the prominent wrinkles in her soft soles.

Defibrillator shock #3 also didn't improve the situation. The next round of intravenous drugs were pushed and CPR was resumed while the trauma team thought about their next move. One of the nurses delivered strong, rapid compressions onto the attorney's chest. Her belly bounced outward and her breasts shook from the vibrations created from the compressions.

Another 2 and a half minutes of chest compressions and another defibrillator shock weren't enough to bring back Stephanie. The situation was growing more and more desperate by the second, and the trauma team needed to make a move. Stephanie had an injury inside her chest cavity, and likely to her heart, so the trauma team elected to access her chest cavity by performing a clamshell thoracotomy. Betadine was quickly splashed all over Stephanie's chest with harsh chest compressions still ongoing. A large incision was made extending across the entire 5th intercostal space, underneath both breasts, and through the sternum. CPR continued while the underlying tissue in Stephanie's chest was incised further. The next step was to separate the sternum to make room for the rib spreaders. A Gigli saw was used to divide the sternum horizontally. The manual wire saw was placed around each side of her sternum, and the cutting began. The saw worked its way through the sternum, with the cardiothoracic surgeon pushing with all their strength. The saw made short work of the solid bone in the sternum. The rib spreaders were placed on each side of her chest, and her chest was cracked open shortly after.

Stephanie's frantically twitching heart was revealed upon opening of the chest. A vascular clamp was placed on the aorta near her diaphragm and internal massage began. A 2nd round of drugs were pushed while the cardiothoracic surgeon made an incision into the pericardium. Blood squirted out of the incision area, with copious amounts of blood following. The surgeon couldn't locate the source of the bleeding. The surgeon wanted to perform a pericardial window right there in the ER due to the dire circumstances. With the monitors showing V-Fib, it was decided that an internal shock should be delivered beforehand.

The Zoll 8011 internal paddles were charged to 20j and placed around each side of the fluttering organ. A jolt of electricity was released directly into Stephanie's heart, causing her torso to flop on the table. The internal shock regained a faint heartbeat.

The cardiothoracic surgeon began performing a pericardial window. This is a procedure where a section of the pericardium is removed to allow excess blood and fluid to be drained, giving the heart an adequate amount of space to pump effectively.

The pericardial window was met with blood squirting out of the pericardium. Stephanie's pulse was lost again as more and more blood seeped out of the opening. More blood products were hung and direct cardiac massage was restarted. The cardiothoracic surgeon extended their incision in the pericardium in an attempt to locate the source of hemorrhaging.

Hemopericardium was discovered by the surgeon's continued efforts, but that still didn't explain where the bleeding originated. V-Fib appeared on the monitor again, so the surgeon's investigation was paused so an internal shock could be delivered. The internal paddles were placed back around her twitching heart, and a 30j shock was delivered once everyone backed away. A dull, wet thunk was heard, accompanied by her torso jolting quickly and sharply. This shock couldn't convert the beautiful patient out of V-Fib, so another shock was delivered immediately afterwards. Stephanie converted to PEA after this shock, so internal compressions were resumed while the next round of IV drugs were given.

Stephanie's heart was being squeezed by the attending ER physician, trying to force it back to life. The surgeon continued probing around inside Stephanie's chest cavity. The ventricles and atria were intact, the SVC and aorta were also intact. That only meant 1 thing: a coronary artery laceration. Coronary artery lacerations are exceedingly rare, but that doesn't mean they don't happen.

The cardiothoracic surgeon located the left coronary artery. Surprisingly, it was still intact. Stephanie was back in V-Fib so another unsuccessful internal shock was delivered. After the shock, the surgeon continued looking around. Finally, the surgeon located the bleeder. The right coronary artery was severed completely in half and ripped off of the myocardium. The heart muscle in that section of the myocardium was already dead upon discovery. Due to the catastrophic nature of this injury, the trauma team abruptly ceased resuscitation efforts, calling time of death at 11:04pm while Stephanie was still in V-Fib.

The monitors were shut off and the ambu bag was detached from the ET tube. The room was eerily silent as some people were exiting the room, while others were beginning postmortem care. Stephanie's heart fired off its last few dysfunctional, erratic bits of electrical activity while the nurses worked. Finally, a cover was placed over Stephanie's lifeless body, leaving her feet exposed. A nurse filled out a toe tag that read:

Name: Crawford, Stephanie

Date of birth: 1/12/1982

Date of death: 4/27/2019

TOD: 23:04

COD: Blunt coronary artery rupture

The toe tag was placed on the big toe of Stephanie's left foot after it was filled out. The tag dangled in front of the silky wrinkles of her soles while she was wheeled off to the hospital morgue, only an hour after her accident.

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