#Blood & Guts

[jcmarchi]

Gut Bacteria Show Promise for Thwarting Toxic Effects of Cadmium - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/gut-bacteria-show-promise-for-thwarting-toxic-effects-of-cadmium-technology-org/

Gut Bacteria Show Promise for Thwarting Toxic Effects of Cadmium - Technology Org

As a heavy metal that can persist in the human body for decades — and enter it by accumulating in fruits and vegetables — cadmium contributes to cancers of the kidney, lung and prostate, among other organs. Can bacteria mitigate its toxic effects?

Performing blood test in a lab. Image credit: Louis Reed via Unsplash, free license

But research has indicated that cadmium also disrupts the delicate balance of the microbiome: the trillions-strong ecosystem of microorganisms living in the gut, where they sway the function and dysfunction of numerous systems.

Identifying beneficial bacteria, or probiotics, that might buffer against cadmium’s presence there has emerged as a popular but still-preliminary approach to the problem.

So what?

Devin Rose, Jennifer Auchtung, Hollman Motta Romero and colleagues decided to hunt for bacterial species that can withstand cadmium and potentially help their more susceptible brethren do the same. The Nebraska team began by extracting samples of the microbiomes from two healthy adults (A and B), cultivating them in bioreactors, then introducing them to toxic levels of cadmium.

Though the cadmium diminished the diversity of species in Microbiome A, the team found that a few did manage to survive and grow amid high concentrations of the toxic contaminant.

Conversely, Microbiome B generally withered in the face of even modest concentrations, hinting that cadmium resistance may differ across human guts.

The researchers went on to spike Microbiome B with A’s cadmium-tolerant species before again exposing it to the heavy metal. Supplemented by those hardier species, Microbiome B produced higher amounts of butyrate, a vital fatty acid produced by beneficial gut bacteria — and one previously depleted by the cadmium.

That suggests the cadmium-tolerant species, which do not produce butyrate themselves, might ward off enough cadmium to help protect its vulnerable cousins against the toxicity of the contaminant.

Now what?

The team stressed the need for further experimental evidence to confirm the safety and effectiveness of the cadmium-tolerant species identified in its study. And other species might ultimately prove more promising candidates for the job.

But in demonstrating a method for sussing out and testing those candidates, the study represents a serious step toward mitigating cadmium’s punch to the gut, the researchers said.

Source: University of Nebraska-Lincoln

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[silkythewriter]

Hello! Can I request alastor x reader where the two were married while they were alive, but reader died via illness or something and went to hell (though they never partaked in the cannibalism) and the reunite in hell?

“I'll love you 'til I'm dead”

Warning!: Angst, but eventually fluff! A bit of OOC since I haven’t written in awhile.. (.,.)💧

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note: LONGGGGG TIME NO SEE, HIYA! IM SO SORRY FOR MY HIATUS OF SORTS BUT I FELT LIKE WRITING SUM SMALL ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I apologize!, I hope you guys enjoy and I’m so sorry for disagreeing yet again!.

Summary!: Spouse! Reader dying via sickness, but reuniting with alastor in hell.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Louise (Louise)

I'll love you 'til I'm dead

Louise (Louise)

Not even if she likes the way you dance

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

First of all, he cherished you to the fullest content. As stuck up as he seems to be smile and all, he was in desperate need of support and attention. And you supplying both of those was all he needed even if he didn’t say out loud the tender touches and moments you both shared alone was enough to tell you everything.

Your relationship was nothing less then sweet and tender, and depending if you knew of his..ahem..little side hobby, it was innocent as well!

He cared for you so deeply, so desperately, to the point where you became his tie to humanity. Of course he knew how to play a role of a sane man, but even then he needed you to tie him to the small humanity and sanity he had.

Although not a big fan of physical affection himself he would in private of course, indulge in your soft touches, and hold. He and there he may quietly slip next to you just so you could softly run you fingers across his skin.

But of course the unviable happen, as the world ripped him of what he held so dear. Maybe as a punishment for his sins and misdeeds, or simply because it could.

Of course in the 30’s medicine was far from advanced, not only that but expensive. So when the news arrived of your newly found sickness all he could do was smile and nod at the doctor as if he wasn’t receiving the most dreadful news.

At first, he genuinely did hope for a recovery, he believed you would get better. Sure a tiny voice in his head was feeding him scary thoughts, and his gut twisted and turned. He felt something was off but surely it was nothing!, right?.

But as your health deteriorated so did his mental state and sanity, even worse then it once was. He put up a front though, for your sake and his, comforting you and saying how you’ll be fine soon, and recover then both of you could go off and do something you always wanted to do.

At some points of repeating this it really turned into him assuring himself. That your not leaving him, no, not anytime soon.

The more you fell ill the more you watched him spiral infront of you. And all you really could do was stare at him with sadden eyes as you gave comforting touches against his cheek or holding him close, even if you could barely pull yourself up from the bed you laid.

You felt your time coming close to ending, and somehow so did he. But unlike you he denied it to the fullest extent.

“Please dear don’t speak of such things, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be fine you’ll see!, now just rest my dear”

He wanted to believe it’ll pass over anytime now, ignoring the doctors he spent fortunes on. And sometimes he does blame them even if they just told the truth. He hated how they couldn’t help you, how he couldn’t help you.

So the day of you passing was the day he lost his final tie to humanity. If not for you, why give such a nasty world mercy?.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

The minute they lowered your casket and buried you with the dirt is also the day he decided to amp up his murders.

He’s not sloppy with his murders their always calculated and tidy but grossem. Even with this, losing you he couldn’t concentrate which didn’t help his case as his blood lust grew and grew.

Each and every murder his mind went blank, thoughts of you kept flooding in that he desperately wanted to rip from his mind.

If a woman that wore you same fragrant passed him. She would be gone in a matter of days.

Nights were colder, harsher, he always assumed karma would catch up to him, but to him not you.

He often questioned what happened how did it happen. How did you even get such a illness?, and why did it have to be you?. We’re you in heaven watching him in his pitiful state? Was there even such a thing?. If there was…he surely wasn’t going to see you he knew where he was damned to go, but you?, he was sure you deserved the Pearl-ist set of wings.

Depending on the days, months or years following your death, he’s like a ticking time bomb.

He yearns for you in such a way he’s humiliated at it in a way. He misses you desperately, widowed too soon, he always assumed it would be you to be in this position, but he assumed wrong.

Even then he couldn’t tell if he could subject you to the twist of his heart and guts. He would beg to die before you, but the pain he feels now is something he would never want you to feel.

Following thoughts of your death was also his. Would he get to see you soon?, one last glance before being damned?.

He never truly moved on, cause you were his only love. Loving someone for him atleast, was rare in a romantic sense.

At some point he genuinely does just continue his murders till his death, maybe it was your passing that truly killed him. After your passing he was a bit hasty, maybe that’s what lead him to be shot in the woods. But who truly knows?

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Now, after his death is where everything truly came together.

His rise to power was fairly quick killing overloads one by one gaining more voices on his radio.

But the lingering feeling of hope stayed in him…maybe you were here? Waiting for him?, But at the same time he hated this life for you, in such a miserable and disgusting yet admittedly amusing place(at least to him)

Now depending on how you found him maybe the minute his radio debuted. Or maybe by a game of telephone by the residents in hell whispering rumors and describing someone all to familiar to you.

Either way! You guys do eventually find each other. By chance or destiny is up to you

The minute he spots you, hears you, even senses you, he freezes. His smile never flattering but static surrounding the area as he processes what’s happening. Is this some sort of trick?, how..how did you end up here?

In a matter a seconds though he’s in front of you, looming as his shadow grows in suspense.

He holds his appearance and self image very important but in this tiny moment of silence. He lets it slip even if just a bit, smile never faltering but I’m his eyes a glimpse of renewed joy. Genuine joy, not form the harms of others but from something warm…something bitter sweet.

Maybe it’s you who pipes up snapping him from observing you like a painting in a museum.

“See?” You said softly grabbing his hand gently like you used to do, as you softly brought it to your face and softly planted it on your cheek. “I’m real” you said with a soft smile (SILENT HILL REFERENCE!!¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Depending on where you are he’s quick to whisk you away to somewhere secluded.

Despite the questions on his mind all he can do is silently stare at you taking in ever detail, even if some changes here and there, you were still you. The you that he missed so desperately for all too long.

Even if not one for physical affection he’s quick with holding you, scared of you being taken from him again, taking in all he can.

Your so much more precious then he leads on, and he’ll be damned to second hell if he loses you again.

In the period of first meeting you again he is keen on keeping an eye one you 24/7, doesn’t matter what powers or how long you survived without him in hell. He can’t risk it, especially not now as he started accumulating enemies so quickly.

He’ll treat you like it’s your first time dating, of course in his old time-y way, but either surprising you with flowers at random times of the day, or watching you get giddy when he kisses the crown of your head.

Now that he knows, and felt the pain of losing you, every moment you have together form than on is cherished more than before. He remembers every day with you like the back of his hand, what you ate, what you said, what you wore, and more!

He know’s…he knows he’s a messed up, and vail man. He understands the gruesome things he’s done with little to no regret. But if he did in somehow and some way do good, something good to earn you back in his afterlife man is he greatful for it.

Some nights he does just stare at you. He’s scared, he will never show it but he is. If he loses you again, for eternity, he’s not sure what’d he do with himself. And that, the fact you weight so heavily on him is the second scariest thing, first being losing you.

Over all, he’s taken aback having you back, but he gets use to it very quickly, your soft comforting touches and your voice that brings back a flood of memories is something he will never forget nor let ago, he isn’t losing you this time, and he’ll do anything to make sure of that.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

WOW THAT WAS LONG, I LOVED WRITING IT THOUGH OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS IDEA, PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!!! \(^ヮ^)/

[inoreuct]

punkflower where miles is usually holding back when he fights; he normally uses 20-30% of his full power but when he gets REALLY mad his eyes glow dark blue and lightning crackles between his fingers.

it's terrifying.

hobie also finds it incredibly hot.

// mild blood + injury, miles going god mode

Hobie swung himself around the corner just in time to avoid the slab of concrete crashing down on where he’d been two seconds ago, hissing as he gripped his side. “Bugger,” he muttered, panting as he slid down the wall.

There was a piece of glass sticking out of his gut. It wasn’t bleeding too badly, but then again, how much blood was too much blood? His vest scraped unpleasantly against the brick as he yanked his mask off and tried to figure out how he was going to do this. From the way it felt it was, what, four? Five inches long? He giggled weakly.

Maybe he was approaching too much blood territory.

He sobered up and forced his back straight, gritting his teeth as he pinched the shard with blood-slick fingers; it made a horrible wet sound as he pulled it out slowly, a pained noise cracking out of his throat as he slumped against the wall and tossed it aside.

Fuck, that stung. He dug the heels of his palms into the cold, hard ground, blinking hard as his vision swam, vaguely aware of the fight still going on around him—

“—obie!”

Right. Miles was still out there—

His boyfriend dropped down from above, sticking the landing neatly and yanking his mask off.

…Or not.

Miles’s face was dirt-smudged, hair a mess as he knelt down to press his palms to Hobie’s wound. “This is a lot of blood.”

“S’fine, love.” Shit, was he slurring? “Nothin’ I ain’t handled before.” Hobie offered a shaky grin and got an arched brow in return.

“Stay here,” Miles said, unimpressed as he grabbed Hobie’s hand to replace his own. “I’m gonna finish this.”

“Wh— Come off it, I can still fight!”

That might have been a lie, actually; it would be absolutely pathetic to get taken out by a literal piece of glass and his healing factor was good, but there was—he looked down—a frankly concerning amount of blood on his clothes.

“You are going to stay the hell down before you pass out.”

Hobie swallowed as Miles leveled him with a cool gaze, the hints of something luminescent deep in his irises. His boyfriend stood gracefully and he gave up on protesting, getting comfortable against the wall. “Go easy on ‘em,” he muttered, lips curling up as electricity sparked between Miles’s fingers, snapping like hungry hunting dogs.

“Nah,” Miles replied, absolutely nonchalant, and it just made Hobie grin wider. “I was already getting annoyed. Now you’re hurt—” he pulled his mask down, the smell of ozone seeping into the air. “And now I’m pissed.”

Hobie smirked as he watched Miles sling a web and jump back into the chaos. This was gonna be over so quick.

As Spider-People, they were used to pulling their punches— if they lost control of their strength they could cause some serious damage, but Miles?

Miles was something else entirely.

He rarely ever used more than a third of the power he had, and the one time he’d tried amping it up at HQ he had practically obliterated the training room. Even now as Hobie peeked around the corner, he could almost taste it on his tongue; Miles didn’t do this often, hardly ever got mad or got serious, because there simply wasn't a need to. But when he did?

Ooh, boy.

The silver-blue sparks crackling over Miles’s suit were the only thing that belied his calm countenance. Hobie knew that if he were to pull off his mask, his eyes would be glowing; a dark, deep blue, threaded through with white like lightning forking across a night sky.

What little surviving street lights around them flickered and dimmed as Miles tapped their energy, charging himself up like a battery, drinking it in until it webbed across his body like ley lines glowing blinding against his skin.

For a fraction of a second it all went pitch black.

And then someone flipped the switch back on, and Hobie shielded his eyes as Miles exploded like a star.

*

It was dead silent, save for Hobie’s laboured breathing; he could feel his wound knitting together but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, Christ. He tipped his head back against the brick as Miles landed in front of him with a thwip, mask already off, eyes wild with the remnants of lightning and adrenaline. Hobie whistled, teeth gleaming. “Well ain’t that a pretty sight.”

“Shut up,” Miles groaned, shaking his head good-naturedly as he folded himself to the ground, settling against Hobie’s uninjured side. “...You gonna be okay?”

“Y’know I will, love.” He pressed a kiss to Miles’s forehead, still overly-warm, tasted the sour salt of electricity metallic on his skin. “All wrapped up?”

“Mm,” Miles hummed quietly, sinking closer with a tired sigh. “They’re all out cold, dropped Miguel a text. Dios, I’m starving.” He tilted his head to look up at Hobie, gently lacing their fingers together. “Stay for dinner? My mama’s making arroz con gandules.”

Hobie made an affronted noise. “I’d never give up a chance to have your mother’s cooking. A god, that woman is.” He laughed when Miles laughed, letting the other boy’s warmth burn away the ache in his side. “‘Course I’ll stay.”

“Good,” Miles murmured, soft and sure, cheek pressing into Hobie’s shoulder as he curled into the arm Hobie wrapped around his waist.

And when Hobie kissed him, he tasted like static; like lightning in his blood, racing over his scalp, white-hot electric against his tongue and all the way down his spine, a fleeting lick of flint against steel.

Fuck, it never got old.

Hobie had a feeling he’d spend the rest of his life chasing that spark, and he didn’t mind one bit.

fin.

[astasource]

NEVER WHISTLE AT NIGHT: AN INDIGENOUS DARK FICTION ANTHOLOGY. ( 1 / ? ) roleplay starters of mathilda zeller's kushtuka. feel free to edit according to scenario / pronouns.

you don't have to love him, just make his baby.

he'll pay you to keep quiet about it.

the money could really help, you know.

go inside and clean that up. you're getting blood everywhere.

what are you doing here?

there was an accident down in the mines.

they all survived, but they're in really rough shape.

maybe you should come inside.

they're mining into her domain.

their guts were torn out?

and they're saying it was wolves?

what did you do to your hand?

go get the bandages.

i'm sure he'll shoot the biggest caribou known to man.

by the time he gets back to kansas, it'll have turned into a polar bear.

you have a job this weekend.

he needs hired help. you know, cooking, cleaning.

i already told him you'd go. you're going.

that's what i thought.

tell me a native story.

tell me something new.

you call that a ghost story?

i saw it with my own two eyes.

all i hear is you trying to amp me up.

wasn't enough to tell me your ghost stories, you want to spook me now.

you really had me going for a minute there.

you'll love this place.

if they're not his, where did you get them?

there was something outside the house that was clearly murderous and looked just like me.

you clearly need to loosen up.

let me in!

don't. say. a. word.

you're an ugly one, aren't you?

are you dead, or do i need to blast you again?

they were wrong. they were all wrong. i showed them.

he isn't worth what we'll pay for this.

i thought he was going to kill you.

let's take it back to her then, okay?

you, my dear, are most certainly welcome.

[thebeingmerf]

GORETOBER Week 2!

CW: Skull fracture, implied gut spill, blood, body horror, gore, implied gore, impalement

(Click for full pictures)

Bloom (Day 11) belongs to @myxterious-amp

Feel free to ask about any of the characters! :}

[tealfling]

I just did the most un-necessarily petty shit in BG3 for a pale vampire man that isn't. even. real.

So, let me tell you about it:

Blood Banks & Bartering

Act 2: the House of Healing & Morgue

[So Warning mentions of Blood]

named Tav: Amaranth, tiefling Cleric, she/her

Astarion x OC (Amaranth), named Tav

Summary: After Astarion's confession, Amaranth (Tav) decides she wants to menace everyone's least favorite blood vendor.

The newly opened chamber at the back of the morgue didn't offer fresh air, exactly, but at least it was clear of toxic fumes. Amaranth glanced around the room illuminated by the holy mace she wore on her back. Another surgical-type room.

"Everyone good?" she called to her team, trying to access Karlach, Shadowheart, and Astarion before they could reply. Having two clerics might seem like an off-balanced party, but they just made quick work of a nasty group of zombies, and Amaranth was rather fond of Shadowheart. The amethyst tiefling smiled with a sigh. She'd never say so, but this was her favorite team. One she tried to avoid grouping too often, lest she play favorites.

Speaking of favorites, Amaranth peeked through her lashes at Astarion.

The last few days with him had been...eventful. Just two nights ago they had an honest discussion about their feelings--free of witty banter and innuendo-- initiated by Astarion, himself, surprisingly. She could feel the warmth creeping into her cheeks. Amaranth had been giving Astarion more space than usual today, torn between wanting to amp up the affection and not wanting to overwhelm him physically, she'd been exceedingly mindful of his personal space. But when his vermillion gaze met hers, Amaranth took it as an invitation to prance over while the others fussed over their gut-covered gear.

"Thank you for dealing with all those vents in there. I'm not interested in giving anyone food poisoning later." she teased, flitting her tail coyly.

"It's the least I could do, Darling, for such a gracious host," hummed Astarion. Something over Amaranth's shoulder caught his attention and he moved closer to the back wall. "Is that blood on the shelves?" He clicked his tongue, "Probably cold and congealed. Ugh." He shuddered.

Amaranth walked up to the towering shelf of various jars and bottles. She didn't have the talent for scenting blood the way Astarion could, but she could still pick up a faint copper odor. The tiefling traced a finger over a shelf, gingerly tipping a bottle of dark-gelled liquid into her hand. Wishing she had her bag of Momento Mori, missing since the nautiloid, Amaranth made a mental note to explore the idea of blood jelly later.

Astarion continued in her ear, "These days, I get to enjoy a warm, fresh meal." Frissons ran down her spine when his breath left her ear. Guess we're back to flirting, Amaranth thought. Continuing on in his usual nonchalant manner, Astarion picked up the blood bank log book. He thumbed through it flippantly, "Quite the list of characters, but hardly my taste."

"The poison's gone now. It's safe enough to leave." Shadowheart called from the entrance.

"It's about bloody time!" Astarion snapped the book shut and reshelved it unceremoniously. "This dank, disgusting corpse-littered place actually makes me look forward to a bath at that old run-down inn," he griped all the way back to the door.

Karlach approached Amaranth as she began to set the bottle in its final resting place. The robust red tiefling shuddered. "Ew, there's just so many of them," she said regarding the vast shelf.

"Yeah, there is," the shorter purple tiefling chuckled, "Almost more than---" She paused. Araj would know what to do with. Was the end of a sentence never spoken. Interrupted by a mischievous scheme. The previous afternoon, the drow's gall had earned her a place on Amaranth's personal shit list, not far down from Cazador. The merchant's blatant disregard of Astarion's person and boundaries left the tiefling fuming. Astarion might not want to bite her, but Amaranth was more than willing to rip out her throat.

"Karlach," Amaranth whipped up peering up at her favorite Yes Man. "I feel like being a little shit, you in??!" she fizzed, a small fanged smile curling across her face.

"Fuck, Yeah!" This is why Amaranth loved Karlach.

Amaranth clasped Karlach's hands in her's leaving the jar in the other's palm, "Awesome! One sec--" she turned her voice to the elves waiting at the threshold, their collective patience rapidly declining. "You two can head back to camp, Karlach and I are going to rifle through the House of Healing then head back to Moonrise to sell what we find."

Both elves frown disapprovingly, "You can't be serious?" They spoke concurrently. Amaranth smiled endearingly.

"Darling, there's nothing here even remotely valuable. Why waste your time?" Astarion pressed, gesturing widely to the obvious filth.

"Because, Dar-ling," she purred, "every little bit counts. All this fancy, enchanted armor that protects our squishy parts needs a lot of upkeep." Amaranth said waving a hand down her armored body, popping a hip out playfully. "And, then there are the mouths at camp that need to be fed-" she pauses giving Astarion his moment to huff and puff. "I know, I know, collecting strays is my toxic trait, but don't forget Star, you were my first. And I'm just not filling enough for everyone to have a bite." Amaranth pokes with a drawl. "So, as the responsible 'leader,' that I am, I'll collect anything that can be sold so that everyone can get what they need to make this little adventure of ours more bearable. And any good leader worth their salt knows you two are done. You're all but seething in place. So, you can head back, enjoy a bath, we'll probably be back at camp before you're even finished." Amaranth reassures.

Shadowheart speaks first, "If you're sure. " The tiefling nods.

Astarion pinches his brow for a second trying to read Amaranth's big round silver eyes before he relents. "Tsk. Fine." He huffs.

As soon as the elves are out the door, Amaranth bolts to Karlach, rapidly laying out her petty plan in a single breath. "Got it? She wants blood? We'll give it to her. Grab it ALL. Whatever we can carry," she said through a fiendish grin.

Karlach bounced back and forth, "OoOooh this is going to be good!"

Outside, Astarion waited, leaning against the neighboring cemetery wall. Fidgeting with his dagger in hand. It didn't take much to convince Shadowheart that he wasn't in need of a chaperone, that she could abandon him. It was obvious that his favorite little traveling companion was up to something. But what? And why didn't she want him in on it?

There had been an unusual amount of...space, between them since his confession. Amaranth normally orbited him, finding ways to either outright include him in her daily tasks or be in his company while doing them. And today he found he actually missed that proximity, not to mention that delicious body heat an infernal legacy blessed tieflings with, like his own private hot waterskin. He was sure she'd be extra clingy when she agreed to a real relationship. Physical affection often flowed from Amaranth, her touch as expressive as her face. Karlach recently enjoyed being on the receiving end of many free, unprompted hugs. But for Astarion, Amaranth always seemed to dance around him during the day, dealing out gentle, careful touches in moderation. For a moment, he thought she might be reconsidering their late-night conversation about what this relationship might become, but she'd approached him earlier just fine. But then, why tell him to go? This was a first, and it made him uneasy. So, he lingered. He was good at waiting.

After a while, voices could be heard shouting as they drew closer.

"Found one!"

"Got another!" These two were the loudest creatures in the Shadow Curse.

Finally, the doors of the House of Healing flew open as the kicking leg stumbled forward. It took a second for Astarion to make out what he was seeing. That was definitely Amaranth, struggling to balance two heavily over-stuffed bags hanging from her front and back, as well as a series of smaller sachels dangling from her belt, and strapped to her thighs. The only telling sign being the long silver stands of disheveled hair freely falling where they wanted, no doubt from situating that backpack madness. What in the blazes is she doing? Astarion thought.

A pit of panic welled in his stomach when Astarion realized Amaranth wasn't catching her footing and the momentum would topple her over the first step of the entrance stairs.

"Careful soldier." A swift red arm lunged forward grasping the pack on Amaranth's back and pulling her upright. "You good?" Karlach chuckled, checking to make sure her smaller counterpart was firmly planted.

"Yeah, just watch that first step, Karlach, it's a doozy." Amaranth joked sarcastically, bracing her stance.

Relief began to wash over Astarion, enough to internally groan at her joke, but then....he noticed that strapped to Karlach's back, was not one, but TWO CRATES. What in the Nine Hells were these lunatics doing?!? This was madness. With every step they took, he could now make out the sound of glass rubbing together. The rogue stood dumbfounded. Not entirely sure what he was witnessing. What were they carrying? Did he even want to know? At this distance, he wasn't sure if the scent of blood lingered on them or if it wafted from their haul.

Every step the women took they grappled with their utterly encumbering loot. Each giggled like a fool through large fang-tip grins with wild eyes when one whispered some joke the pale elf wasn't privy to. Astarion's face pinched. It seems he was worried for nothing. The tieflings seemed like they had...whatever this was...in hand. Apparently not needing his--not that he wanted to put his hands all over the disgusting things they'd stolen. Perhaps he had wasted his time, and while a perfectly good bath waited for him. He peered in the direction of Moonrise. It wasn't that far of a trek from the House of Healing, across the street really if you imagined what the lay of the land might have been before the shadow curse. Seeing no reason to involve himself in their foolishness, Astarion decided to head back to camp to enjoy that bath the previous leader suggested.

Karlach's cackling entered camp first. The soft glow of her chest giving away her location. As she stepped closer into the light of camp, her purple companion came into view. Perched behind the larger tiefling like a backpack, Amaranth giggled and waved.

"We're back everyone and we got new loot!" The smaller tiefling said sing-song, lifting the pack from her back and swinging it around. Approaching the fire, she hopped down from Karlach and inverted the bag on the ground, revealing her spoils. "Disperse amongst yourselves at your leisure," she said to those gathered round, waving her hand over the various bottles of glowing liquids and items.

Astarion watched over his book from his tent. Amaranth was making a show for the others, but her eyes eventually meandered his way, locking with his. As soon as Karlach started chatting about their- probably- ill-gotten gains, Amaranth practically pranced his way. Her big bright eyes begged to be questioned.

"Alright, I'll bite, what did you do?" Astarion asked when the bubbling tiefling stopped before him. Her mischievous grin barely containing the words she wished to spill. “And why didn’t you want my help?” He jabbed.

"Well," she began nonchalantly, "Let's just say that tomorrow when that Sanguine bitch has a….” The tiefling paused for a moment, trying to find the right phrase, “clearer head, she'll realize she's the proud owner of every bit of blood the House of Healing had to offer." She almost laughed. Amaranth tilted her head so he would meet her eyes, “And I didn’t want you to have to be in her presence ever again.”

Astarion scoffed, placing his hand in front of his mouth as if scandalized, , "Oh my sweet thing, did you steal from her?" He wiped a fake tear from his eye, "I'm so very proud."

“Technically,” she articulated, “We bartered. It was an even trade really. I took everything of value she had- including that ‘once and a lifetime potion,’” Amaranth mockingly slurred. She continued, “While giving her every worthless vial of blood as disgusting and vile as she is that we could find. I’ve completely ruined her profit margins.” The tiefling waved her hand flippantly.

Astarion chuckled, “Well, let’s hope she never financially recovers.” Amaranth started to pull at her armor to remove it. Astarion moved around to help her with the shoulder buckles.

“Granted, I still plan on ripping out her throat with my bare fangs at the first available opportunity,” Amaranth gritted, slugging off her chest piece. “Maybe then she’ll think twice about talking to you or another spawn like that.”

“I don’t recommend it, Darling,” Astarion hummed, “she smelled absolutely wretched.” He spun his little tiefling around to face him. “But thank you for wishing violence upon her on my behalf, it’s very charming,” he said brushing a strand of hair behind her little pointed ear.

Amaranth leaned into his hand with a faux pout. “I just hate her so much. If I’m lucky, she’ll be dumb enough to be in Moonrise when we face Ketheric,” she said with a venomous smile.

Astarion hummed, “You’re adorable when you have murder on your mind my pet.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead, but his target flinched away unexpectedly.

Seeing a flash of hurt in his eyes Amaranth quickly apologized, “Sorry. I just know I’m in desperate need of a bath and no one wants to dine from a dirty dish.” A soft half smile formed at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, come now my Sweet, what's a little gore between friends?" Astarion drawled. "Besides, regardless of whatever ichor you're covered in, it'll hardly be the worst thing I've ever tasted. And it'll be made all the sweeter on you." He leaned in again, this time a hand pressed to his chest holding him back.

"But that's the thing, isn't it Darling?" Amaranth said warmly, an enchanting smile blooming across her face. "You said you wanted to be more than friends now, real lovers. And I want to give you more. More than you can imagine."

Astarion felt her tail curl behind his ankle, she probably didn't even realize she was doing it. He couldn't help but smile, it was like she was secretly hugging him.

"I'm here to raise your standards, my precious Star, you deserve the best my love has to offer. A clean, fresh face is the least I could do. I'll be quick. I promise it'll only take a minute. And I'll come right back to you, ok?"

Astarion sighed contently, "Alright fine."

"Fantastic," Amaranth beamed, "and you better be ready to cuddle when I get back!"

"Darling, how could I say no?" Astarion chuckled.

[sheinthatfandom]

So next week Bryan is gonna fight Jeff get “hurt” and will have to cancel all in

Then Nigel amps up his calls outs to an unbelievable degree not letting brittle Bryan off and calling him out on all his injuries and fake injuries and they fight at all out

Tk you are turning my favorite thing into something stressful. You aren’t SPN I’m not gonna give you 14 years to fuck with my guts and nerves that belt better stay with swerve and no McMahons in name or blood better come within 1k feet of the company

Conglomeration I’m sorry you deserve my attention but I can’t focus right now

[sinsandsweetness]

Supression (sex and zombies- chapter 12)

pairing- {Rick x fem!reader}

summary- Rick has some pent up emotions.

warnings- 18+ obviously. MDNI. rough, mean, hate sex? hair pulling, choking, a tiny bit of angst at the end.

notes- you know that song that goes "yeah, he loves me, but he fucks me like he hates my guts" ? sooo... that's basically this. enjoy!

"Ohmygod", you scrambled up from your spot on the gravel, lunging towards Daryl, wrapping your arms around him and digging your face into his jacket.

The five of you looked like absolute hell. Daryls face beaten in, bloody and bruising as the seconds passed. Carl crying as Michonne tried to comfort him. Ricks face and neck slick with another mans blood. This weird haze of something unfamiliar in his eyes. Shock probably. It didn't even look like him. Hands shaky and mind somewhere else. 

You held onto Daryl, tight. You wanted to just break down and cry into his shoulder, but you thought better of it. Trying to keep yourself together, for his sake but more for yours. He held you for a long moment, no words exchanged, just the feeling of both of your heart rates attempting to return to normal. 

Nobody slept well that night. Not for a while. Not even after finding the rest of your family.

In fact, you were so sleep deprived by the time you had all found the church, that both Michonne and Daryl had pulled you aside separately, to see if you were ok. You weren't. But neither was anyone. So you didn't make a big deal out of it.

Rick was... pissed. Angry. Mad at the world. Mad at the Claimers. Mad at Terminus. The fact that his family was put in danger, captured to be killed and eaten right beside him. And... well, mad that not everyone wanted to listen to him. The new recruits from the road had showed up, blabbing about some cure, which sounded like utter bullshit in your opinion. But it didn't matter, Rick wasn't having it either.

Actually, for some unknown reason, Rick didn't seem to be 'having it' with you either. At first you thought it was just the shock. Every event that had happened was so quick and sudden. A lot of different emotions. And it's not like you minded. You were always so understanding, especially when it came to his family, getting Judith back, making sure Carl was okay. That was important. To him and to everyone. But even after things started to cool down, he seemed... off. He barely spoke to you, wouldn't even look in your direction while sitting around the church, picking at cans of whatever vegetable hadn't been so popular. You weren't entirely used to the silent treatment. Knowing that something was wrong but being almost too scared to ask. I mean, hell everything was wrong. So what could he possibly say that would actually make you feel any better?

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

You didn’t have to turn around to know who opened the bus door. You took a breath in, awaiting the unavoidable confrontation. 

“Are you kidding me?” He growled from behind you. The bag in your hand dropped to the floor of the bus. 

“It’s not what you think, I’m just-“ 

He pushed you forward, down the aisle of the bus. Stumbling, you catch yourself on the edge of a seat, turning around to look at him. 

“Yeah you know exactly what it looks like,” 

It looked like you were helping Abe and Eugene. Going against Rick's wishes, and orders. In truth, it was the exact opposite. You were trying to find the keys and hide them. Take their bags and delay them from leaving. You wanted the bus too. For your own friends. Not to get some idiot to DC.

“I know,” you put your hands up slightly.

Rick was amped up from the nights events. Still on edge from the argument in the church only an hour ago.

“I was taking the bags out, not loading them up,” you try to explain.

He knew you were being truthful, but he was still just as unimpressed. “You shouldn’t be out here anyway,” he approached you in the dark bus.

“I was trying to help.”

“Well don’t. Stay inside where it’s safe.”

“So why are you out here then?” 

“I heard you leave. Didn’t want you getting hurt... Again.” He added. Eyes flashing down your body almost too quick to notice.

“As if that was my fault,” you gave him a little attitude. He was being aggressive. For no reason. His anger towards the world being taken out on anyone who was there. 

If looks could kill, you'd of dropped to the floor of the bus. His glare burned into you, hot and mean.

“You think it was mine?” He let out a dry laugh, stepping closer and closer, while you walked backwards until you hit the back of the bus. 

“I didn’t say that,” immediately regretting your tone.

“Mmm but you’re thinkin’ it aren’t you?” He was close now, his eyes almost black in the darkness. 

You shook your head. 

“I’ve never even thought that,” 

“Oh bullshit,”

"It's not bullshit." You were mad now. “You know what's bullshit? That I have done everything you ever wanted, stood by you even at your fucking worst and you still have the nerve to think I would blame you for all this shit." You were up in his face now.

"I have never doubted you. Not for a second. So if you have had any thought that this whole situation we have ourselves in is your fault, that’s a reflection of what you believe, not me.”

He hesitated for a moment. Jaw clenching. 

“What? You realize I’m right? Huh?” You jabbed a finger at his chest. Sick of his attitude. 

“You wanna punching bag? To take it all out on someone? You haven't even talked to me since we found Daryl, and now you wanna pick a damn fight?" You couldn't help but scoff, "Well I’m not your girl. I’ve been on your side every damn step of the way."

“I know that-"

“Then cut it out Rick. I don't deserve this shit.” Now you were the one stepping forward into him, forcing him back. “Don’t be mad at me because you feel bad about what’s happened.”

“Of course I feel bad! I’m supposed to lead this group, I'm supposed to protect you!” He hissed.

“I never asked you to.“

His scowl deepened. Oh that hit a nerve.

"I am doing everything I can to keep this group alive-"

“Well stop it. You can’t control what happens to us Rick. You can't save all of us! We are fighting for our fucking lives in this stupid church and you can’t do anything about it,” you could see his face twitch. That little head tilt. Oh my god it made you wanna climb him. Going weeks without any attention from him, it didn't matter now that he was mad, because at least he was mad at you. 

“We're stuck here with that useless priest, and that mullet wearing prick. They’re gonna get us killed. You think so too, I know you do.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You aren’t in control anymore and you can’t fucking stand it can you-"

He grabbed your face roughly. 

“I said. Shut. Up.” He wasn’t having it. At all. You were only trying to get a rise out of him. And boy was it ever working.

“Fuck you,” you growl. 

To your surprise he brought his head down to yours, smashing your lips together. Kissing you with an intensity you weren't quite familiar with. Despite your anger, you still returned the favour. I mean why else were you egging him on like that, if not to get a little relief. Almost Immediately he started to peel layers off of you. Your coat, jeans, boots. All while kissing, and biting down your neck. 

“I hate you,” you told him quietly, beard scratching at your skin as he peeled your panties off. 

He almost laughed at your comment, suppressed it into your shoulder. He didn’t believe that for a second. 

His jacket and shirt were discarded in the pile of clothes and weapons he'd stripped off of you. 

“Turn around.” He demanded. And so you did, not without a little help from Rick pushing you down onto the bus seat. You let out a sound and your arms jutted out to the window. He wasn’t being gentle. Not like he usually was. Far from it. His rough hands went straight to your hips, and he pushed you even further, face now pressed up against the window. You could only see a faint light from inside the church. Nothing else. Utter darkness of the forest surrounding the two of you. He pushed between your legs, lining himself up to your already soaking wet pussy. Your own body betraying your hostile words. The belt buckle from his jeans was cold on the back of your thigh, causing a little whimper to escape your lips. 

“What’s that about me not being in control?” His hand tangled in your hair, pulling at your scalp. 

“Ah!”

He pushed into you from behind, not giving you any time to adjust. Thrusting rough and fast. His hand digging into your ass, pulling you back against him hard. You didn’t even care to hide the sounds you were making. Unable to do anything except grasp at the man’s hand in your hair. Hoping to ease his grip.

When he did finally ease up, he pulled you back by the hips, so that he was standing and you were closer to the edge of the seat. A palm pressed down on your back, pushing your face against the seat with his other hand still gripping your hip. Pulling you back onto him. Pounding into you hard and hitting a spot inside of you that you didn't even know existed.

You moaned right into the seat. 

Hate sex had always been a favourite. Though historically it was with Daryl, after a particularly bad argument or a day of him acting like an asshole. It felt different with Rick. To feel every emotion that he was trying to hold back, through the force of his thrusts. It was exhilarating. Feeling absolutely used, like his own personal fuck doll. A punching bag to blow off steam. It was so dirty, and fucked up, and turned you on even more.

“Rick-“ you cried out when you knew you were close and your legs started to give out. He didn’t let up, instead choosing to flip you around and onto your back, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as soon as he entered you again. 

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing messy circles as he pounded into you. 

“You like that huh? Being tossed around like a little slut?” He asked. A moan In his ear let him know that yes. Yes you did. 

His hands were grabbing at your waist and your skin so hard you knew he’d leave bruises. 

You couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed at the sound that left you when he lifted both of your legs onto his shoulders. Though he quickly shut you up, with his mouth on yours, muttering something unintelligible against your lips. 

You came hard, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing all heavy, raspy moans. Hands pushing against his stomach. 

“-t’s too much - Rick please,” you couldn't take anymore. 

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” he growled into your ear. He placed his hand on your throat, pressing down on the sides, and you heard him swear under his breath. 

You let the next orgasm wash through you as you struggled to breath, your fingernails digging into his wrist, no doubt leaving marks for the next day. Seeing tiny white stars as the pleasure erupted through your core and down the muscles of your legs. He finally let go and you inhaled a sharp breath looking up at him through teary eyes. 

He pulled out and you replaced the hand stroking his cock with your own, letting him come onto your stomach, and up your breasts. 

He let out a shaky breath. 

You were cold now without him so close to you. He grabbed one of your shirts and cleaned you up, helping you get dressed with the rest. Leaving with only a layer less than when you’d gotten on the bus. He plopped down onto the seat next to you, breathing heavy, both of you silently inspecting the pattern on the back of the seat in front of you. 

"Why haven't you talked to me?" you finally just asked. Sick of the silence and sick of not knowing.

He chewed on his lip for a moment. The gears in his head turning, for only you to see.

He sighed and shook his head, not facing you, "You went to him. After they- on the road... You went to him."

He was talking about Daryl. The way you hugged him after Rick bit that guys throat out and gutted his buddy. He was right, you had went to Daryl. But in that moment you didn't even recognize Rick. There was no way he would have made you feel any better. 

Maybe that's what he was so upset about. That he couldn't have been the one to comfort you. To take care of you.

"We didn't even know he was alive I was just-" happy to see him. Scared from the situation, and your instincts told you to go to the closest comfort. Ricks unfocused gaze and the blood dripping down his beard didn't exactly scream comfort.

"It's fine. I'm just- uh," he backtracked.  "You went to him. And my mind... it never stops. I- I just can't stop thinking. Ever. And every time I even look at you...  it gets worse. Thinking about how..." He ran a hand over his face. Not wanting to talk about it anymore. All you wanted was for him to pour his heart out, and every time he got close, he would stop. Just fucking say it already. 

“You're right okay. You do listen. You do everything I say, even when I can tell you don't agree," he tried grabbing your hand but you pulled away. "If everyone else were like you... maybe... I don't know.” Maybe they'd still be alive. That's what he wanted to say. His ego had clearly gotten the best of him lately. Rick looked over at you with another unfamiliar expression. He could tell you were spent, and maybe a little upset, rubbing at your neck. 

“You're such an asshole.” you answered, almost a whisper. 

When he didn't answer, you got up and brushed past him. He tried to object, calling your name and grabbing your arm, “Come back. I didn't-“

You tugged your arm back and stormed out of the bus.

He knew that you were just as scared to lose him. He knew it, and he still couldn't even outright say it. Whatever it was. 

Only a few meters from the church, you felt a cold hand on your shoulder. Annoyed and upset, you turn around, immediately forced to dodge the jaws snapping at you. 

“Oh shit!” You push the walker to the side, scrambling for your knife. When it got back up and closer you drove your knife in through its jaw, letting it drop down by your feet. A few deep breaths. Your heart rate through the roof. 

Looking back at the bus, Rick's hand was on his gun, looking at you through the doorway. Ready to come save you. Just in case you needed it.

[monochromaticbeans]

Know What You Are

I see through you, I know what you are

I've seen the Devil more than I've seen God

“Glass Houses” ~ Bad Omens

Dust motes danced in the sunbeam streaming in through the windows of Groove Garden as Hikari sat in the back, her electric guitar resting in her lap. The soft hum of the amp melded with the quiet atmosphere, like the faint pulse of a heartbeat threading through the stillness. Her fingers drifted over the strings, playing the opening notes of ‘Yellow Ledbetter’ by Pearl Jam.

Keisuke stood nearby, leaning against a shelf with casual ease, arms crossed as he watched her play. There was something about Hikari when she was like this—lost in her world of chords and riffs—that held him captive. Everything else blurred at the edges when she played, the roughness of the world softening for just a while.

Her fingers moved along the fretboard with ease, her eyes closed, immersed in the ebb and flow of the music. The store was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of customers flipping through the vinyls. It was peaceful, in the way that only a forgotten little corner of the city could be.

The bell above the door jingled, a sound as harmless as a breeze—but it hit her like a chill.

She paused mid-chord, leaving the notes to hang in the air until they faded. Her fingers froze over the strings as an eerie feeling crept up her spine. Her gaze flicked to the entrance, and there, walking in like they owned the place, were two guys. They moved with a casual arrogance that caught her attention: one with slicked-back hair and glasses that reflected the dim light like cold steel, the other tall and lanky, with a grin that spread wide but didn’t quite touch his eyes. The kind of grin that felt more like a knife’s edge than a smile.

Something in the air shifted, and Hikari felt it deep in her gut—a warning, like the first tremor of an earthquake before the world begins to crack open.

She barely noticed Keisuke tense up beside her, his body shifting from relaxed to ready in an instant. His usual smirk vanished, replaced with something darker, sharper.

Hanma’s grin spread wider as he noticed Baji’s posture shifting, stepping closer to Hikari, ready to jump at the slightest provocation. He gaze darted to Hikari, then back to Baji, his eyes bright with twisted amusement. Interesting, he mused. Didn’t know Baji had a little girlfriend. It was like blood in the water for Hanma, who thrived on tension and conflict, watching for any sign that he could set things spiraling into chaos.

Kisaki’s gaze lingered on Hikari for just a moment longer than necessary, noting the subtle way her shoulders stiffened, the faint tremor in her fingers over the guitar strings. A small smile played on his lips, unreadable but decidedly cold. So this is Todawa Hikari. Toman’s little princess. He filed away every detail—the casual setting, her obliviousness to the darker machinations at play. People like her are so easy to manipulate.

Turning his attention to Baji, Kisaki’s smile widened. He knew how fiercely loyal Baji was, especially when it came to protecting those close to him. And loyalty, as Kisaki knew all too well, was a weakness he could exploit. So predictable, Baji. You’re all teeth and claws, but only when it’s too late to matter.

"Do you know them?" Hikari asked Keisuke, keeping her voice low, her eyes never leaving the strangers who’d just walked in.

Keisuke didn’t have to look at them twice. The second Kisaki and Hanma stepped into the record store, he recognized the danger. He’d been dealing with Toman's enemies long enough to spot trouble before it even had a chance to rear its ugly head.

Kisaki Tetta. The name alone twisted something dark and ugly in his gut. He’d overheard Kisaki talking to Mikey shortly after the Moebius fight, smooth as silk, promising he could get Pah out of juvie. Kisaki might have been wearing that polite mask, but Baji saw straight through him. He wasn’t after Toman for the camaraderie or loyalty; he was a puppet master, pulling strings in the shadows, trying to weave himself into their gang with dangerous promises.

And then there was Hanma Shuji. He was known as the "Reaper," Kazutora’s ally in Valhalla. Baji learned enough from Kazutora to know that Hanma was no ordinary thug—he was chaos personified, with a violent streak and no loyalties beyond his own whims. Baji’s fingers curled into fists as he thought of what Hanma represented: the fractured path Kazutora had taken, and the path he might drag all of them down if they weren't careful.

Baji wasn’t one to overthink or worry much. But Hikari was here. And something about these two—Kisaki, the spider with his webs, and Hanma, the bloodhound sniffing out chaos—made him hyper-aware of every possible threat.

Hikari's fingers twitched, restless over the strings, and before she realized what she was doing, she flicked on the distortion pedal at her foot. ‘Master of Puppets' by Metallica ripped through the room, the jagged riffs breaking the silence, sharp and electric. It was instinct, like something inside her needed to match the darkness that had just walked through the door.

Keisuke raised an eyebrow, although he wasn’t too surprised—he knew her taste in music. He knew she liked heavy songs that rattled something in her, songs that "tickled her brain," as she liked to say. But this? This felt like a deliberate choice, like her guitar was answering some unspoken challenge from Kisaki and Hanma—like it knew.

Kisaki observed Hikari as the rough chords filled the air, a calculating look in his eyes. She’s got spirit, he noted, watching how she instinctively used the music to create a wall between them. It amused him, in a way. But it also told him something vital: she wasn’t as docile as she seemed. For a moment, he let his attention rest on Baji, glued to her side, his guard up and ready. Kisaki’s smile sharpened. Interesting. Even a caged princess can make trouble.

Hanma’s grin only widened as Hikari leaned into the riff, her fingers a blur on the fretboard. Feisty, he thought, pleased. He loved a good challenge, and the harder the fight, the sweeter the chaos that followed. And Baji had practically wrapped himself around her like a protective shield. This is gonna be fun. He shot a sideways glance at Kisaki, a silent understanding passing between them. They both knew the same thing: every weakness could be used, every attachment manipulated.

“Not bad,” Hanma drawled, his voice smooth and mocking as he leaned against one of the shelves. His eyes flicked to her, sharp and amused. “Didn’t expect a live show today.”

Hikari didn’t look up, her fingers moving faster, the aggressive riff filling the space between them like a barrier. She wasn’t afraid, exactly, but something about their presence set her on edge, like the air had grown too thick to breathe.

Keisuke stepped forward, just a little, positioning himself between her and Hanma in that casual way he had, like he wasn’t really paying attention but was ready for anything. His eyes stayed on the lanky figure, his voice low but steady. “What do you want, Hanma?”

Hanma’s grin didn’t falter. “Easy, Baji. We’re just here to look around. No need to get all worked up.”

Kisaki, who had been quiet, stood by the entrance, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. His eyes gleamed behind his glasses, but his expression was unreadable, cold. “We’re not here for trouble,” he said, his voice smooth, almost pleasant. “Just thought we’d stop by.”

Hikari’s pulse quickened, her fingers still tearing through the riffs, though her mind was racing. She kept her head down, her focus on the strings, on the weight of the music pouring out of her amp. It felt like armor, like something solid she could wrap around herself to keep the strange, creeping unease at bay.

When the riff finally came to its crashing end, she let the sound trail off, her fingers muting the strings before the lyrics could follow. The sudden silence was almost deafening, broken only by the lingering hum of the amp.

“Nice guitar,” Kisaki remarked, his tone polite, as though he hadn’t been sizing her up just moments ago. The look he gave her held a flicker of calculation. I’ll be seeing you again, Todawa Hikari. He allowed himself a slight nod before turning to Hanma, a satisfied glint in his eye.

And just like that, they turned and left, the door chiming again as it swung shut behind them. But the air they left behind was heavy, thick with something unspoken– the stench of unease.

“Gotta say, I didn’t expect Baji’s girl to have that kind of bite,” Hanma murmured with a low chuckle as they stepped out of the shop. He tilted his head, catching Kisaki’s eye. “Maybe we should make a habit of stopping by. Think Baji’d enjoy that?”

Hikari let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her fingers trembling slightly as she rested them on the guitar strings. Baji stayed tense for a moment longer, his eyes fixed on the door as if waiting for it to open again.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the protective edge still there.

Hikari nodded, though the adrenaline was still humming beneath her skin, her pulse drumming in her ears. “Yeah… I think so.”

She glanced down at her guitar, the distortion pedal still on, the faint feedback humming from the amp. The choice to play ‘Master of Puppets' had been instinctive, but now, with the silence settling back in, she realized it had been the only song that felt right in that moment. Something about Kisaki and Hanma had brought out that darker edge in her music, something unexplainable.

Baji ran a hand through his hair, still watching the door, muttering under his breath. “Kisaki’s dangerous, Hikari. And Hanma… he’s the kind of guy who’ll burn down the world just for shits and grins.” He shook his head, the edge of his jaw tightening. “Keep your distance from both of them.”

She nodded, though the weight of his words lingered. Trouble, yes. But something told her that this wasn’t the last time she’d see them.

[did-i-ever-ask]

There aren’t enough angsts on this page:)

Acotar x oc Angst

So it’s not gonna be perfect, cause english isn’t my first language and I didn’t prove read it hehe but lots of fun!

Part 2

For your friends

I have been part of the inner circle for a long while, I have been close to Rhys from the very beginning and we grew even closer after the previous war and the death of his mother and sister, with whom I was very close. It was the same with Cassian, Azriel, Mor and Amren we all have been a family for so very long and I see all of them as my siblings. I couldn’t be more grateful for such a family.

And then Feyre joined us it felt like everything all over again, from the moment I met her she felt like a part of our family, a new sister for all of us. It was so freeing seeing Rhys light up with love for her after those 50 years of horror. I would lie my life down for each one of them but I didn’t know it was going to be this early.

The hopefully final battle with Hybern started and everything seemed to be going fine. They were strong but not yet overwhelming. I was doing my part as a commander, I fought on the ground, making sure no one broke the formation, but also making way for Amren, Feryre and Nesta.

Everything changed when I heard Nesta‘s devastating scream for Cassian. I looked over to her, confusion veiling my mind, then to Cassian who didn’t seem to have heard her. My gut wrenched, something was wrong, very wrong.

I winnowed to Nesta, grabbing her on the shoulder, whirling her around to look me in the eyes. She was afraid but of what? That unspoken question was answered after she sobbed a „Attack-… Cauldron…“ . Shit.

My head whipped to the main tent on Hybern‘s side and Nesta was right something wasn’t right. I started running towards them, towards Cassian, my best friend who always was there for me, the person I trained for hours with, the person who teased me about falling asleep with my mouth wide open and who then stuffed it full with marshmallows on which I almost choked to death on. My best friend. A person I wouldn’t risk on loosing.

The Cauldron fired. I winnowed. In the air. BOOM!

I had winnowed in between Cassian with his legion and the blast. I had thrown all my might against the blast to stop or redirect it anything so that he wouldn’t get hit. And he didn’t I made sure of that. I looked back into his face. He looked….horrified….why? Oh… I know… haha. I smiled at him. He opens his mouth but no sound. Then first every thing was white and then…. nothing.

Cassian POV:

No.

What? I don’t get it. What happened? That’s not possible. It’s not true. I didn’t see my friend just disappear in front of me. No not Lilith. That’s impossible she is strong. Stronger than I am. Maybe… it’s just a joke right?….

I think I’m screaming… I don’t know what I’m doing. She smiled. I hear a whooshh. And am whirled around to look into the eyes of my brother. Azriel. He has tears in hi eyes. He looks furious. „Snap out of it!“ he screamed in my face. „But…“ I hear myself mumble. „Concentrate! She didn’t di- do that for you to get yourself killed now!“ I don’t say anything. „Fight!“ he says this time softer I feel my head move. I nod.

The past few hours were a blur of blood and weapons but now I‘m standing in Hypern‘s tent next to Mor and Az in front of us our High Lady and sister crying over our High Lord, our brother. First Lilith now Rhys and Amren? It’s just a stupid nightmare right?

Rhys is alive, and Amren just came out of the Cauldron so Lilith is fine too, right? She should be right behind Amren. But no. Nothing.

Mor taps me on the shoulder „What’s the matter?“she asks me. „What?“ I ask her. She should know right? I look around for Azriel. I can’t say it, but he isn’t there. „Lilith-„ amped face falls apart „what-„ she mumbles „The Cauldron it-…she took the attack for us… for me..“ She wobbled first back and then forward. Mor‘s knees gave out and I caught her, she hugged me and stared to sob into my shoulder and I held her.

Do you guys want part 2… maybe a happy ending with time skip?

If you have any requests go for it! Stay healthy!

[thelavendercatalogue]

@dagmartoons here ya go :D _ _ _

The leg has always been their worry. . .the broken hip, busted knee, possible broken femur from his leg getting crushed in the car. Femurs are hard things to break. Their also the most at risk when they break due to potential issues that can occur with to all the major blood vessels and muscle networks and nerves and such. The leg had always been their worry, always been the main goal to save cause god forbid Lupin loose it and really have his life screwed up. . .Jigen can deal with rehabilitation, but he cannot deal with the outcome that may occur if Lupin looses the leg

Doctors are worried when infection sets in, but so much shit is wrong with the guy that it’s not surprising. . .what IS surprising is when the infection gets worse and suddenly Jigen is in a room surrounded by a bunch of people in white suits all discussing the idea of the most dreaded word Jigen has ever heard in his life and as they try to convince him that maybe it would be more beneficial for the leg to go

Infection isn't something to mess around with. For his leg to be so badly mutilated to the point of his blood essentially poisoning him, a discussion of possibly amputating the limb must be had. Jigen probably would fight as much as possible against the idea, imploring and even begging them to try every other possible route because he knows just how much Lupin needs both of his legs

like lupin is good at robotics

he could make a new leg

could deck it out and make it work as good as he can

but it's still the idea

not to mention the phantom pain would be nearly unbearable at times

Bit of a gut punch given the choice to attempt to continue treatment for his leg or to simply amputate it altogether, But Lupin asked for Jigen to help him make the decision.

But once again, Jigen finds himself freezing.

He has no idea what to say,

So he tells Lupin that he has to think about it for a little while. Which he has time to do, but he's still on the metaphorical clock, so to speak

But he doesn't "think"

At least not right away

Instead he just dips to cope and put it at the back of his mind for a while by hopefully spending some "time" with fujiko

Of fucking course he quickly learns that that isn’t going to work and he just has to say it to her

Him randomly just walking into Fujiko’s hotel room after dealing with this whole debacle for a few hours and originally he came here for a little “stress relief” but obviously Fujiko notices something is up by how he’s sitting on the end of the bed with his fingers steepled against his mouth and how cold and stone like he looks in his eyes.

Looks that she’d know by now mean that he was internally debating with himself and not liking the outcome of the argument

She asks him what’s up and oh imagine how bluntly he says the next words to her

“They wanna take his leg”

fujiko's heart dropping when she hears it, part of her hopes she misheard him but she knows what he said all she can think to respond with is a soft and fearful "what?"

Jigen chuckling as if in disbelief

“haha. . .yeah not the best news I’ve gotten all week”

Fujiko stopping everything and being like "ok we need to get everyone together and talk about this" bc it's literally pt 2 of that whole 'what would we do if Lupin couldn't thieve anymore' discussion

Jigen just taking a deep breath and nodding when Fuji says they need to talk about this. That all of them need to talk

No amount of "stress relief" would be able to fix this It's too somber, too severe

So they get dressed or whatever they have to do to get themselves situated and start making some calls

Fuji calling up Goe, jigen calling Zeni

Time passes and they all convene in Fuji's hotel room

Zeni probably shows up last, but they tell Goe and Zeni the news at the same time

They feel horrible having this sort of discussion without Lupin here with them-- but at the same time, it's one that they couldn't have if he were here, either.

so HERE are the Oppositions

Jigen and Zenigata: Amputation

Jigen's undecided ofc, that's kinda the whole point

And it doesn't matter if it's majority, they'd all decide pretty early on that the decision needs to be unanimous

Zeni would say amputate. Not because it'd mean Lupin can't be a thief anymore (or that it'd be a while until he figures out how to thieve again), that's the last thing he wants, but because it's the safest option. The best guarantee of recovery and the greatest avoidance of the unthinkable.

Considering how jigen might be frantic to fix it and for things to finally calm back down, he'd probably be leaning towards amputation for the same sort of reasons as Zeni. But the idea of Lupin losing a leg is absolutely terrifying to him, not to mention Lupin counting on him to decide whether to make the call or not.

Fujiko: No Amputation

Fujiko could reason that Lupin doesn’t do well with change and would be on the side of Non-Amputation. Not in the regular sense of people not doing well with change but in the sense that he has so very few constants in his life and he leans on those so heavily even if it’s not noticeable to outsiders. He has those few constants and without those tethers he loses himself. And right now things are already changing so much she doesn’t want him to have to lose anything else.

Fujiko won’t admit it, but Jigen knows how much she cares for Lupin, he’s come to accept the notion, especially in the weeks that have followed since this shit started.

Much like him, she has not handled the stress very well. The reason why Fujiko tends to stay is suave hotels attached to casinos

lots of big headed blue-bloods making it big, lots to swoon over her and lots of idiots she can steal from.

Because Lupin was everything to them. Without him they're drowning in how much they miss him and coping in ways they know

But Jigen is smart because also knows deep down that anyone riding the wave will eventually have to get off or fall

Fujiko just seems to end up falling more often now. Much like Lupin and Jigen, her tethers are snapping and if it makes her feel miserable

god what is it gonna do to Lupin

Goemon: No Amputation

Goemon's a bit tricky, but I'd say he'd be the most against it. He's very into self-improvement (shit way to put it but idk how else to) and would wholeheartedly believe that Lupin would be able to power through whatever sort of recovery might be necessary, no matter how much time it might take and no matter the risk to his health (bc lets be honest, Goemon tends to do the same thing to himself).

Honestly I just really like the idea of Goemon getting the chance to go off for once ;;;

Like, he can't fking believe that zeni and jigen are even considering amputation, it's completely unfathomable to him and he just digs into them for it

They've all been injured severely at some point and this has never been offered up as an option before, he doesn't understand how this scenario would be different from any of those other time

but imagine Jigen digs into the fact that Goemon hasn’t even been up to see Lupin since this happened and questioning him as to why everyone else has been up to see him besides Goemon

………goemon snapping back that jigen never gave him the chance to

which leads to

Jigen and Goemon Argument

Jigen actually ends up getting into a shouting match with Goemon on how dare he judge their decisions when he hasn’t even had the stones to go UP and see Lupin. And how he refuses to allow Goemon to use the fact he’s been guarding his sister as a excuse cause even MADDIE has pushed him to visit but Goemon refused

Jigen saying that Goemon never needed his permission to visit lupin,

but Goemon saying that he had no way of knowing that when he's been avoiding him ever since that fight he had with lupin in pt 5

Jigen railing into him over what he did. Because tbh this fight has been a long time coming and Jigen didn’t want to say anything about it but tensions are high and Jigen is on a trigger

He won’t say things he regrets though he’s close to it, but he will mention that Goemon has a lot of nerve considering what he did

And if Goemon tries to use the excuse that he has never been the only one to try and kill each other of the group, and that they’ve done it all the time and what makes the difference now

Only for Jigen to point out how no one has EVER actually tried to kill each other and that’s what Goemon doesn’t seem to get, they have always pretended but no one except Goemon has actively tried to KILL someone from this group and not only that nearly succeeded in doing so

However before he can continue, too Jigen’s surprise, however, Zeni steps into the ring in Goemon's defense for one simple reason

Zeni would probably say that jigen hasn't seen the full extent of Goemon's regret, and the fact that Goemon gave up everything when he believed he had 'defeated' lupin is proof enough that Goemon isn't making some kind of 'excuse' for what he did.

At the end, I'm sure they're all aware that Jigen is just snapping under stress. He's upset, he wants Lupin better, he doesn't want to have the conversation about his leg, he doesn't want to make these choices, he just wants to wake up beside him in bed and this is all just a bad dream

but thats not gonna happen any time soon. . .

[greenpeople]

Nature‘s OZEMPIC

Berberine exerts its effects through various mechanisms within the body, making it a versatile and powerful natural compound. Here’s a closer look at how berberine works:

Mechanism of Action at a Cellular Level

Berberine impacts several cellular processes, including:

AMPK Activation: Berberine activates AMP-activated protein kinase (AMPK), a key enzyme involved in regulating cellular energy metabolism. AMPK activation helps enhance glucose uptake, improve insulin sensitivity, and promote energy production.

Gene Expression Regulation: Berberine can influence gene expression, particularly those related to lipid metabolism and inflammation. This regulation plays a role in its therapeutic effects on metabolic disorders and inflammatory conditions.

Key Biochemical Pathways Affected by Berberine

Berberine interacts with several biochemical pathways, including:

Insulin Signaling: By enhancing insulin sensitivity and reducing insulin resistance, berberine helps regulate blood sugar levels, which is beneficial for individuals with diabetes or metabolic syndrome.

Lipid Metabolism: Berberine can lower lipid levels, including cholesterol and triglycerides, by inhibiting enzymes involved in cholesterol synthesis and promoting bile acid excretion.

Scientific Research Supporting Its Efficacy

Numerous studies have demonstrated berberine's effectiveness in:

Managing Blood Sugar Levels: Berberine has shown comparable efficacy to conventional diabetes medications in controlling blood glucose levels.

Improving Lipid Profiles: It can reduce total cholesterol, LDL cholesterol (often referred to as "bad" cholesterol), and triglycerides, contributing to cardiovascular health.

Benefits of Berberine

Berberine offers a wide range of health benefits, supported by scientific research. Here are some of the key benefits:

Metabolic Support

Blood Sugar Regulation: Berberine helps regulate glucose metabolism by enhancing insulin sensitivity and reducing insulin resistance, making it beneficial for managing diabetes and prediabetes.

Weight Management: It may aid in weight loss by influencing metabolic pathways and promoting fat breakdown.

2. Cardiovascular Health

Cholesterol Reduction: Berberine can lower total cholesterol, LDL cholesterol (the "bad" cholesterol), and triglyceride levels, which are important factors in reducing cardiovascular risk.

Blood Pressure Regulation: Studies suggest berberine may help lower blood pressure, supporting heart health.

3. Anti-inflammatory and Antioxidant Effects

Berberine exhibits anti-inflammatory properties, which can help reduce inflammation in the body and support joint health.

It also acts as an antioxidant, scavenging free radicals and protecting cells from oxidative stress.

4. Gastrointestinal Support

Berberine has been used traditionally to support digestive health, including relief from diarrhea and other gastrointestinal issues.

Its antimicrobial properties may help combat harmful bacteria in the gut.

5. Cognitive Support

Emerging research indicates that berberine may have neuroprotective effects, potentially benefiting cognitive function and brain health.

[dirkspanelcollection]

Dismas from page 547 in Vast Error

Dialoguelog :

BOOBDRONE: >([did you know that in northern repitonian mythology, it is said that the larger a troll's chest is, the more powerful they are in both strength and combat prowess?]

BOOBDRONE: >([i thought that was interesting.]

DISMAS: Guh...///

Dismas from page 548 in Vast Error

Dialoguelog :

BOOBDRONE: >([troll nipples are ordinarily gray in color, just like the rest of the troll body. however, there are recorded errors in the reduplication process that have made the nipples of approximately 0.2% of the repitonian population blood shaded instead.]

BOOBDRONE: >([i thought that was interesting.]

DISMAS: Fuck off, I'm begging you...///

BOOBDRONE: >([#e#a]

BOOBDRONE: >([yea i fuckin bet u are]

Dismas from page 549 in Vast Error

Dialoguelog :

DISMAS: Wh—///

Dismas from page 550 in Vast Error

Dialoguelog :

BOOBDRONE: >([titillatin good s#ow you put on t#ere c#ief]

BOOBDRONE: >([earning t#e rite to get all was#ed up in t#ee disease drink like t#at]

BOOBDRONE: >([guts spunk an moxie]

BOOBDRONE: >([ur made of it scab man]

BOOBDRONE: >([u done did good c#amp]

[msfbgraves]

Does Terry think Daniel deserved his treatment of him that night where he raped him or? Does he think it’s okay and Daniel is making a big deal over what was nothing more than a hard fuck?

Disclaimer: as Terry has come to realise himself, his behaviour that night was inexcusable and "he's not that man anymore."

Well then: who is that man? What changed?

Imagine you're Terry Silver. You're an Alpha in a world that writes that word with a capital letter (and beta and omega look like this). You have gone through life taking what you want, by either smarts or violence. And then you took on a Don with an organisation several sizes too large for you, but you struck him at his weakest because you're smart like that, and you emerge with an alliance and an omega, at your age, and you feckin love that little brat, you have your first pup before the year is out because you're just that good. You're top fucking dog, literally, because not three months after the first you have him with pup again, so even there you're doing everything right, you're just that awesome. You're even a good boss with a very loyal crew and your sister, through your mechanations, is a Duchess. A Duchess! Through her, you're directly blood related to the 1% that would have spat on you coming up. You are an Alpha among Alphas.

Ah, but then.

Those Italians seem to think they're better than you. Even your boy has an attitude on him, and that's cute on him, but his siblings, especially that beta. He can't feckin get them to do what they ought to, which is what Terry Silver wants. All the little compromises they force him to make, the parallel loyalties going on. They're so tightly knit. He can't always put his finger on it, how they work. It's not his world. He's jealous. And that beta resists him, and is hard to play. But he, Terry, he won, didn't he, in even getting here? Why isn't he treated with the respect he's feckin entitled to? How does that Italian read him so well? That's his trick. Are they conspiring against him? Is his mate feeding his beta brother information? Who do any of them think they are? That boy is supposed to be a prize, a sacrifice to his power, and if he can't own the brother, he will own their beloved little family princeling. Because that boy is his and he'll show them... He took him before and he'll take him now, it's his feckin right! (He feels a bit muddled and amped up and ready to punch someone at this point but luckily sex is instinct, not reason, and lust and rage make a very potent cocktail.)

And he's firing on so many cilinders when he fucks, he's pure sensation, a raging conqueror, he's so fucking high. This could be heat sex, it's so intense. There's an edge of fear around it, but Terry Silver should be feared. And when he's fucked it all out he straight up drops, maybe even passes out.

Wakes up feeling like shit. Where's Daniel? Danny always makes things better...

And then he finds him clutching Robby, reaching out to Gianni in his little cot, and bodily on him, his three eldest loves, in full on protective mode, and that is when the first Alpha instinct pierces him ...

This is very bad. If anyone else had put his Danny in such a state, he'd be burning down the town to find them and bash their skulls in right now.

But there's nobody else. It can only have been him.

And there's rationalisations galore to be had in the aftermath of this. He might want to convince himself that this was a harder fuck than usual, no big deal. But right now, he's still mostly running on feral mode, which he knew he chose to let get the better of him, the way he usually only does when fighting an enemy. No mercy.

But this Danny. It's his mate.

And he fucked up and he knows. In his gut. Even the pups know.

This is bad.

That moment when he fucked him? He didn't care what Daniel thought because he wasn't thinking of him at all. And now, deep at night, his brain is not online enough to lie to himself about what is right in front of him - his omega in acute distress.

And this isn't the whole story, he'll tell himself a host of things in the coming days but it doesn't take away the horror of what he can see and feel is his own, terrible, fault.

[dhr-ao3]

Remedies & Redemption

Remedies & Redemption https://ift.tt/uleJ79L by DragonsDogma “Mr. Malfoy?” Tiberius Ogden asks again. “I understand,” Draco responds, but does not give his thanks. “Thank you, Miss. Granger. You may leave.” Granger nods in acknowledgment, the swotty little know-it-all’s mission accomplished. As she turns to leave the courtroom, Draco’s eyes remain locked on her retreating figure, a mix of emotions swirling in his gut, including a dangerous and simmering rage. Words: 1392, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Percy Weasley, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, George Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour, Fenrir Greyback, Antonin Dolohov, Alecto Carrow, Amycus Carrow, Nott Sr. (Harry Potter), Cormac McLaggen's Uncle Tiberius, Cormac McLaggen, Dean Thomas, Padma Patil, Daphne Greengrass Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Romance, Slow Burn, Angst, POV Hermione Granger, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Blood and Injury, BAMF Hermione Granger, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Grief/Mourning, Slow Romance, Dysfunctional Family, Intimacy, Panic Attacks, POV Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco Malfoy Has a Large Cock, Hermione Granger Has a Praise Kink, Unreliable Narrator, Angst and Romance, Competent Draco Malfoy, Anxiety Attacks, Explicit Sexual Content, Researcher Hermione Granger, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Action/Adventure, something to everything, Forced Collaboration, Oblivious Draco Malfoy via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/gmckGZf August 28, 2023 at 03:18PM

[glycocontrolberberinehcl]

The Future of Glyco Control: Embracing Technology for Healthier Living

Glyco Control Berberine HCL: A Natural Ally for Metabolic Health

In the quest for better health and wellness, many are turning to natural supplements to support their metabolic functions. One such supplement gaining attention is Glyco Control Customer Reviews .This fascinating compound has been celebrated for its potential to aid in maintaining healthy glucose levels, among other benefits. Let's delve into what makes Glyco Control Berberine HCL a promising addition to your wellness routine.

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What is Berberine?

Before diving into Glyco Control, it's essential to understand what berberine itself is. Berberine is a bioactive compound derived from several plants, including the Berberis plant. Traditionally used in Chinese medicine, berberine has a long history of being utilised for its numerous health benefits. From managing inflammation to supporting digestion, it's been a staple in natural medicine for centuries.

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Understanding Glyco Control Berberine HCL

Glyco Control Berberine HCL is a refined form of berberine, designed to be more effective and easily absorbable by the body. This formulation is aimed primarily at supporting metabolic health, particularly in regulating blood sugar levels. This refined version ensures that your body can maximise the benefits of berberine without encountering the absorption issues that might be present with other forms.

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