#gait lab

[wheelie-sick]

My Gait Lab/Gait Evaluation Experience 🚶

I couldn't find anyone else documenting their gait lab experience so I wanted to share mine

under a cut cause this is long 😭 I like giving detailed explanations because I appreciate them so I included all the details

my gait eval was done for a potential future surgery to gather information on my limb difference (miserable malalignment syndrome), if you're having your gait eval is happening for another reason it might look different. I had my gait evaluation done at the gait lab at the Children's Hospital of Colorado, different gait labs might do this differently

before my gait eval I answered a questionnaire asking questions about my reason for getting a gait eval, my concerns with my gait, and my pain levels. I also had to sign a consent form to be recorded.

at my eval I had to wear shorts, the shorter the better. I came into the appointment with shorts, if you did not I imagine they would have you change into their shorts. I wear a sleeve on my leg to cover scars, I was allowed to keep this on for the first 2 parts but not the third. my top did not matter. I had to take off my shoes and socks.

the first part of my evaluation was spent taking measurements and evaluating my strength. most of the measurements were taken of angles of my legs, ankles, and hips. I had to lay on my back and stomach. the PT was very accommodating of me during the part where I had to lay on my stomach-- this can push my patellas out of place and is very painful because of this so I had trouble doing some of the movements for the measurements and had to take breaks. I also had the rotation of my legs measured again, this might not be measured if you don't have a rotational difference. during this step they used marker at several points to mark things for measurements and the cameras.

during the strength evaluation I was expected to give resistance to the PT trying to pull on my leg and foot. I was also asked to do some basic movements with my legs. if you've ever had a strength evaluation in physical therapy this is the exact same thing.

from there we moved on to the first part of the gait evaluation. in a different room with a large, high contrast pad and many cameras I was asked to walk in different ways while I was recorded. from memory I walked back and forth several times and walked backwards. I was allowed to keep my leg sleeve on for this.

after this part was done I had many sensors placed on my legs. several sensors measured my muscle impulses to make sure my muscles are moving at the correct times. to attach these sensors they cleaned my skin with an alcohol wipe and lightly sanded my skin. the sensors were stuck on with adhesive but were wrapped in vet wrap for extra security. small orbs were used for the cameras to pick up and have a point to connect the "dots" on the modeling software. these were stuck on using adhesive but most were on top of the vet wrap. I had to take my leg sleeve off for this.

me in all my sensor glory:

[ID: a person standing with vet wrap around their legs in multiple spots and several round stickers. he is smiling with his hands at his side. a black box covers his feet saying "devotees leave me alone" he is standing on purple tiles in a brightly lit room with a rudimentary computer model of his legs in the background]

after all the sensors were attached I had to do several simple exercises to make sure they were working. I was also asked to walk in front of the cameras once. I then had the chance to rest for a minute while the sensors were connected on a modeling program.

once the sensors were connected in the program I walked back and forth many, many times on an area with purple "hopscotch" tiles and a large black tile. the purple hopscotch tiles measure the force on each leg with each step while the black tile measures the pressure across your feet.

I had all the sensors taken off once I was done with the walking. they did not hurt to remove, even with leg hair!

the results will take 4-6 weeks to receive. I will have a follow up appointment to discuss them and the options for surgery. I'll probably update this post with what the follow up appointment looks like

[haute-pockette]

The Doctor being disabled.

Every incarnation sitting somewhere on the autism spectrum. Their stims and behaviors vary between incarnations.

First doctor with alexithymia. On Gallifrey it was fine, ignored. A "superior race" that prided itself in observation without interference doesn't put too much stalk in compassion. But meeting humans up close with Barbara and Ian started him down a path of learning to put words to his own feelings as well as others.

As his body aged he also developed arthritis. The cane was for mobility as much as it was for style. He learned the hard way that aspirin is not Gallifreyan friendly (he survived the small dose, but it scared the hell out of Susan).

Two with lots of physical stims. All his gestures and wringing his hands, grabbing onto companions.

Dyspraxic Two. Chicken scratch handwriting, stumbling over his words and his feet. He really leans into tactile sensations whether it's the texture of his clothes or holding onto a companion, it was always grounding for him.

Third tended to shut down more than his first two since the constant stress and frustration of exile had him already wound pretty tight. He'll lock himself in the lab and just put himself on autopilot until he recharges enough to deal with whatever shenanigans are happening.

Three has tinnitus that of various sounds including almost like the tardis materialization sound. He often has to look up to check if the Master is showing up to bother him or not.

Four has ADHD alongside with autism. He struggles with constantly running from responsibility and wanting to have some sense of control of situations.

It's one of those snowballs of procrastination causing anxiety which causes him to procrastinate further. Unless it's urgently life threatening, his stress response is freeze.

Five masks and suppresses his emotions in an attempt to blend with neurotypicals more since he's self-conscious of his previous "eccentricity" as Four. It causes a lot of strain between him and Tegan after Earthshock.

Peripheral neuropathy causing muscle weakness in his legs cause of the difficult regeneration. Look how much he falls over and leans on the tardis console, he can't stand straight for long periods of time without aids. Usually has braces, but will use a cane around the tardis (would use the wheelchair but it's dead in the Castrovalva river).

Six gets overstimulated easier than some, especially by noises and textures. Usually that with things not going accordingly tends to set off meltdowns. Ever since he hurt Peri he turns his energy on himself instead.

Bipolar Six. He tends to handle mania better than depression, at least when he has too much energy he knows he can spend it and try to get it out. He'll usually park the tardis somewhere his companion can enjoy and shut himself away in the cloister room or zero room when at the worst of his lows.

Also type 1 diabetic six, regenerating from poison fucked with his metabolism. He is careful to take care of his blood sugar, but he's terrible at remembering to stay hydrated. That's why Mel is always shoving carrot juice at him.

Seven has ADD (yes I know it's technically "ADHD of the predominantly inattentive type" but ADD is easier). ADD as in he's always in his own head, always five points ahead of the conversation. His train of thought is incomprehensible to most, but there is a string of logic to it.

Dyspraxic Seven with an abnormal gait and stance. Bad posture makes him look shorter than he is. Only he can read his own handwriting, which he insists is not as bad as it is.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee part 1

Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, captive whumpee, memory loss, murder mission

Whumpee is a trained killer, a lethal monster forced to fight and pitted against the enemy in the war time and time again... but this time... he's set loose on an innocent town, in a different kind of attack. His mission: leave no survivors.

Whumpee hated it when he was forced to fight and kill. Hated his handlers, his conditioning... hated himself for giving in and being their weapon. Their winning card in every game -- people as pawns.

And today, he hated that he was being set loose yet again, a deadly killer given knives and a mission, pointed in the direction of an enemy town. Though it wasn't an 'enemy', really -- while Whumpee’s handlers usually had him kill soldiers on the battlefield, this time he was to destroy a town full of innocents, of mothers and children sheltering from the war. Whumpee's leader had no morals, and he didn't plan to spare his enemy's wives or children, even if they weren't a part of the battle. He was sending Whumpee to slaughter them all, deal a vicious blow to the enemy in a way Leader couldn't do on the battlefield -- strike where it hurt most, where the grief alone would weaken his enemy's soldiers.

And he'd planned everything so perfectly, sending part of his own army to distract the enemy and give Whumpee a clear path into the town to deal his damage.

Whumpee's orders were clear: kill every living human he saw and crossed paths with -- indiscriminately. Leave none alive.

Fighting on the frontline of war was something Whumpee was trained to do, created and molded and enhanced by chemicals, and he was good at it, strong and mighty and dangerous. While he didn't particularly like killing the soldiers of the enemy, it gave him an outlet, a way to take out his rage and fury at everyone who had chained him in his own mind -- it gave him something to do, a purpose in existing.

But he'd never killed defenseless civilians before. His stomach churned with nausea at the thought, despite his bone-deep conditioning and training instinctively telling him to fight fight FIGHT. Flood the streets with blood. Attack and destroy.

He wasn't normal, he was a freak of nature -- a man taken to a lab, torn apart and put together so many times his skin was almost made of solid scars. They'd done something to him, something to his mind as he was strapped helplessly to a table, injected with unknown chemicals that burned inside him. But he could never remember exactly what, or how they'd managed to erase large parts of memory to make him cold and impassive, the perfect killer to lead armies.

Some nights he tried to remember what his life was like before becoming a living weapon, a walking murder machine. But it always hurt to think too much about it, leaving him frustrated and no closer to answers. So eventually he'd just... given up, accepted his role. And now here he was, in leather stealth suit, armed with blades for slaughter as he marched into the target town he'd been sent to.

He wore a cloak over his suit to hide his weapons, a hood pulled over his head to conceal his scarred face. Everyone in this war knew who he was, the loyal and vicious dog of Leader. A single glance at him would terrify people.

The town he walked into was very small, probably housing only half a hundred people in total -- that would all be dead before the sun set.

Whumpee stalked into the village with the confidence and grace of a lethal warrior, the cloak hardly being enough to hide his identity when any sane person could see from his gait alone that he was a skilled warrior who had survived many battles.

Whumpee's heart began to pound as he successfully reached the center of the village where his killing was to begin, to maximize casualties in case anyone managed to slip away and run -- most of the townsfolk were located in the center. And most would not escape.

Strange, he briefly noted, that his heartbeat quickened, when he had long since tamed it to be steady and sure even in the heat of combat, not to mess with his head or concentration. After all, adrenaline was what made people sloppy, panicked, what made people lose in battle. He had mastered his control over fear so many years ago it was as instinctual as breathing.

And yet, he hesitated. Paused, before drawing his dual daggers from his belt, shedding the cloak like a wolf in sheep's skin and revealing himself for who he was, what he was.

"It's Weapon!!" The alarmed cry came before Whumpee's cloak had even fully slid off. He grimaced at hearing his war-given name. He hated it.

Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[halogalopaghost]

Doctor On Call

read on AO3

“Hey Donnie, is this infected?”

Donatello jerked away from his workstation as Mikey’s foot came down on it heel-first. A large nodule stuck out from the lateral interior of his foot—red, angry, and (oh, goody) leaking.

He wrinkled his nose and used his screwdriver to push the foot unceremoniously off his desk. “How’d you even manage to get a blister there? We don't wear shoes, Mikey.”

He laughed. “You’re tellin’ me, dude. But uh, it kinda hurts, so—”

Donnie heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Hang on, let me go sterilize a needle.”

---

“Y’know how you said to never remove a weapon if you’re impaled?”

Don swiveled around in his chair, only able to see a green and red blur through his magnifying visor. He pushed it up and away from his eyes with the back of his grungy hand, and found a little more red decorating the scene than he would have liked.

“Raphael,” he began evenly, “would you care to explain how this happened?”

Standing on the threshold of his brother’s lab, Raphael shifted from foot to foot. The sai embedded in his shoulder wobbled slightly, but he didn't so much as wince. “No,” he finally said.

Donnie put a hand to his face for a moment, drawing in a steadying breath. “At least have the decency to go get the suture kit, then.”

Raph grinned guiltily, then went for the kit.

---

“Heeey, Donnie,” Leo drawled.

Donatello froze, hunched over his workspace. “What did you do?”

Leo must have taken that as an invitation to enter, because his bare feet padded farther into the room, stopping just behind Don. He rested a hand heavily on his brother’s shoulder. “Why assume I did something? Do I need an ulterior motive to check in on my little bro?”

Donnie’s mouth thinned into a line as he stared bemusedly at his latest robotics project. “Well we could start with the slurred speech and the weave in your gait.”

He shrugged Leo’s hand off and turned around in the worn desk chair. It was lucky he did, it gave him just enough time to snatch Leo’s arm before he completely busted his shell. The fast-bruising welt on his head proved Don’s theory.  

“Did you hit your own head, or did Raph finally snap?”

For a second, Leo looked like he was going to deny it, then his shoulders fell and he sighed. “I lost a fight with the cabinet above the stove. Think you could check for a concussion?”

“Only if I get lifetime mocking rights,” he shot back. “Fearless Leader Felled by Cast Iron Pan From Above, what a headline.”

Leo sat heavily on the spare stool. “Fine, fine.”

Don plucked his penlight from the pencil cup and swiveled toward his brother. “See, this is why Mikey doesn’t let you in the kitchen.”

---

“Excuse me, Donatello.”

Donnie startled in his chair. Master Splinter always surprised him like that; he could hear his brothers coming from a mile away, but never their father. He stood and turned to face him, bowing quickly. “Yes, Sensei—oh.”

Master Splinter stood on the threshold of the lab, holding out his shaking paws—the pads of which were an angry red, and growing blisters quickly. Donatello practically picked his father up in the process of getting him to a place to sit down.

“Leo!” He hollered in the general direction of the dojo, hoping that’s where his brother was. “Bring ice! Sensei, you should have put these under the faucet immediately,” he chided softly.

“Yes, my son, I realized that halfway here.” He chuckled, despite how painful it must have been to have Donnie poking and prodding at his hands. “What is it that you say? Six, half dozen?”

Donnie laughed too, he couldn't help it. Anything sounded like a wise old Japanese proverb when Master Splinter said it. And the fact that his first thought had been to go to his son…well, Donnie knew he was no doctor, but it was touching how much trust his family placed in him.

Leo, bless him, showed up less than sixty seconds later with ice wrapped in a thin dish towel. “Sensei!” He sucked a breath through his teeth, catching a glimpse of his burned paws before Donnie placed the ice on top of them. “What happened?”

He looked at his sons from beneath his thick brows, one ear twitching. “We shall tell your brothers a different story, but…I was trying to make tea,” he finally relented.

Donnie’s hand audibly smacked against his forehead. Leave it to the master ninja to give himself partial thickness burns with a pot of water.

Leo laid a hand on Sensei’s shoulder. “We’ll tell Raph and Mikey that you were training and save you the torment.”

Sensei laughed again, more heartily this time. “Thank you, my sons.”

Donnie took the ice away from his hands. “Hmm, that doesn't look good. Let's go back to the kitchen and run them under water, okay?”

“Of course, Donatello. Thank you.”

Holding onto Sensei’s elbow as they left for the kitchen, Donnie beamed at the praise.

---

Three things happened at once: first, a string of very colorful language drifted from Donnie’s lab over to where his three brothers sat in front of the television; the power flickered twice and then cut out; and in the very brief, very dark silence that followed, the fire alarm in Donnie’s lab began shrilling.

All three of them jumped up without a word to one another, expertly navigating their home in the dark. 

“Donnie!” Leo called, skidding into the dark lab.

Raphael clambered on top of a workbench to silence the alarm, sending Donnie’s projects and gadgets tumbling all over. There was no fire, just the smell of smoke.

“Don?” Leo tried again. He stilled, briefly confused that he couldn't find his brother in the dark. Usually he would at least hear his breathing—

Oh shell, he wasn't breathing.

The three of them realized as one, and the scramble began anew. Leo fell to his hands and knees to find his brother, Mikey went for the emergency floodlight on the wall, and Raph left the lab altogether. By the time he came back with the AED, Leo was already halfway through a round of compressions.

CPR on a turtle was…complicated. Their hearts were dead center in their chest, to begin with, which meant ‘the medial joint of their plastron’s scutes prevented compressions too deep’, as Donatello had so technically said. Donnie assured them all that if a scute was cracked or bruised during compressions, it would be okay. But now that Leonardo actually had his brother's plastron beneath his palms, hearing and feeling the groan of it every time he pressed down, he didn't feel so certain.

Raph knelt on Donnie’s other side while Mikey stood over them with the flashlight, trying to illuminate as much of the scene as possible.

“Do you smell that?” Mikey asked, voice shaking.

Yeah, they smelled it. Burned flesh was hard to miss. But treating whatever other wounds Donnie had sustained had to come second to his heart.

Raph tore the paper off the AED pads and carefully placed them just like Don taught him, then pressed the on switch. They all nearly jumped out of their shells when Donnie’s voice, thin and tinny, came out of the AED. “Analyzing cardiac rhythm,” it said. 

Raph wanted to cover his ears. If the last time he heard his brother’s voice was from the stupid AED—

“Administering shock. Stay clear of the patient.”

“Clear,” Raph said.

“Clear,” both of his brothers echoed, Leo holding his hands up near his head to prove it.

“Shock will be delivered in 3…2…1…” Donnie jolted once as electricity shot through him. “Shock administered, check pulse and breathing and resume compressions if necessary.”

Raph put his fingers on Don’s neck, then shook his head. Leo moved to resume compressions, but he signaled him to stop. No, there was something there…

Both brothers froze.

“I have a pulse, but he’s not breathing.” Without giving his brothers any time to respond to that information, Raph lifted one meaty fist and brought it down hard on the center of Don’s chest. 

Donnie took a deep breath, eyes flying open in terror. He wobbled on his shell, off-balance in a panicked effort to flee. Three sets of hands came down on his chest to stop him.

“Donnie, don't move,” Leo said urgently. He took his brother’s pulse, actually timing it this time, and listened to his heavy, ragged breathing for a moment.

The power came back on.

“What the fuck, Don!” Raph yelled.

He looked between his brothers, clearly disoriented, but less panicked with a good view of his surroundings. “Sorry,” he gasped out. He accepted his their help as he struggled to sit up, hands over his plastron. “Ough, my chest. What happened?”

Leo grabbed his hands, flipping them palms up. He wrinkled his nose. Well, he figured out where the burned flesh smell came from—Donnie’s palms were both blistered and slightly charred, but it didn't seem to cover too much surface area.

“We were kinda hopin’ you could tell us,” Raph sighed out, adrenaline ebbing.

Donnie eyed the AED, then looked over Raph’s head up to his workstation. He blinked a few times, then smiled sheepishly. “I, uh. I think I forgot to unplug it.”

They followed Donnie’s eyes up to the unidentifiable appliance on the workbench. Whatever it was, Donnie had long stripped it of its housing and any other identifiable features. Other than that it was made of metal and plugged into the wall, they didn't have a clue what it was.

“You knucklehead,” Raph muttered. “I’d kill you if I hadn’t just finished savin’ your skin.” He ripped the pads off Don’s chest and tossed them in the AED bag, standing up to wash his hands of the whole affair.

Mikey scooted into Raph’s spot and threw his arms around Donnie’s neck. “Don’t ever do that again! I thought you were toast, bro!”

“Don’t do what again?” Splinter appeared in the doorway, body-blocking Raphael. He tapped his cane on the ground, whiskers twitching.

“Oh—Sensei, uh. I just had…an accident. Everything’s okay now. No need to worry.” He tried for a smile. It was too wobbly to be reassuring. 

He gave all four of his sons an incredibly unamused stare. They all ducked their heads, still unwilling or unable to stick their ground in the face of that all-knowing look. “Leonardo, how badly is he wounded?”

“It’s not too bad, Sensei.” He held Donnie’s burned hand out, showing him the minor damage. “I’m more worried about the fact that your heart stopped, Donnie.”

Donatello had the decency to look ashamed. “It probably didn’t stop,” he muttered. “Most likely, it was ventricular fibrillation.”

“Oh, that sure makes me feel better,” Raph drawled sarcastically. “I guess he’s fine, guys, let’s all hit the hay. Are you stupid, Donnie? No—don’t answer that.”

“I’m fine! You guys knew exactly what to do, so I'm fine. Just a little bruised up.”

Splinter, with his ears pressed flat against his head, closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. “You four will be the end of me. Donatello, be honest—what side effects should we prepare for?”

He pulled his hands away from Leo, using the side of one to rub absently at his chest. “Uhh, nothing much. Just, uh, that my heart doesn’t…stop again. Or something like that.”

“Oh, sure, nothin’ too serious,” Raph scoffed.

Only the telltale twitch of their father’s whiskers alerted them to his vague irritation. “You will be sleeping in the infirmary bed tonight, my son. Come, help your brother up.”

Mikey and Leo got Donnie to his feet pretty quickly, and Raph put a hand on the back of his shell as if to say ‘there, I participated, are you happy?’ They helped him the few steps to the infirmary cot, which Donnie was surprised to actually need. Not only did his legs seem unwilling to comply—it seemed that the electricity had left an exit wound on the bottom of his left foot.

Master Splinter sat in the chair beside the cot, pulling the rolling cart of medical supplies closer to himself. “I will treat the burns while you set up the heart monitor.”

“Guys, really, I'm okay.” Even as Leo started sticking EKG nodes on him and Raph clipped the pulse oximeter on one green finger, he protested. “The likelihood of going into v-fib again is infinitesimal.”

“Ahh, darn, looks like we can't comply with your complaints if we can't understand the words yer usin’,” Raphael drawled.

Splinter gently drew Donnie’s burned hand into his own. “My son, it is you that so often cares for us when we are injured or unwell. Let us return the favor now and care for you.”

Donnie smiled in spite of himself, looking down at his lap as he felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. Thank you, Sensei.”

“Didja hit your head on the way down?” Raph asked, standing behind his head.

“Uh, I don't think so. No bumps, no headache.”

“Good.” A smack reverberated around the room. “Be smarter next time, genius.”

Don lurched forward, hands raised instinctively to protect the head that Raph smacked. “Ow! Talk about insult to injury!”

“That's actually injury to injury,” Raph corrected, leaning into his field of vision. “You die, an’ I'm gonna dig you up just to kill you again. You hear?”

Donnie winced as Master Splinter made his first pass with the antibacterial gel on his hand. “Loud and clear, boss,” he grumbled.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be okay to let himself be taken care of.

Just this once.

[seniorpollinationtechnician]

Despite their best efforts, the team couldn't locate Jorlan. Every attempt to trace his steps proved futile no matter how many devices they deployed. Then, just as suddenly as he had vanished, Jorlan returned. One evening, as the team gathered for their evening meal, he stumbled into the research station. Everyone rushed to greet him, bombarding him with questions about where he had been and what he had seen. Jorlan, however, remained tight-lipped. They assumed his reluctance to talk stemmed from a traumatic experience and in wanting to respect his privacy, they didn't push for answers. The team tried their best to support Jorlan but found it difficult to do when he began to exhibit strange behaviors. It was subtle at first. He became more reclusive, often avoiding social gatherings and spending long hours in the lab. His normally meticulous work grew erratic with unfinished projects and nonsensical reports. He was frequently lost in thought, his eyes unfocused and distant, as if he were somewhere far away. As days turned into weeks, Jorlan's condition worsened. He started missing routine check-ins and meetings, a stark contrast to his previously punctual nature. When approached, he would brush off concerns with a weak smile, insisting he was fine, but his pallor and the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. Eventually, he fell ill. It began with a persistent cough that quickly escalated into severe fatigue. Jorlan, who once navigated the station with purpose and energy, now moved sluggishly, his steps unsteady. He rarely left his room, and when he did, it was only for brief moments before retreating back into the confines of his quarters. One morning, as the light cast a long shadow across the research station, the ORION team members went about their tasks, unaware that what they'd been harboring for the past few weeks had reached maturity. Jorlan, who had been confined to his room for days, emerged unexpectedly. His appearance was shocking; his skin had taken on a sickly brownish hue, and his eyes, once bright and intelligent, were now clouded and devoid of emotion. He moved with a jerky, unnatural gait, his body seeming to struggle against some internal force. The team gathered around him, alarmed by his sudden appearance and worsening condition. They pleaded with him to return to his room, to let them help him, but Jorlan did not respond. Instead, he let out a guttural, inhuman growl. His body convulsed violently, and before their eyes, he began to change. Vines and tendrils erupted from his skin, tearing through his suit. His limbs elongated and twisted into grotesque shapes, covered in thorny growths. His face distorted and lost all semblance of humanity as it morphed into a gaping, petal-like maw that split open into a star-shaped pattern. With terrifying strength and speed, he lunged at the nearest team member, his thorny appendages slicing through the air. Panic erupted as the team scrambled to defend themselves, but they were no match for the creature Jorlan had become. He moved with deadly precision, his new form imbued with a primal, savage intelligence. The station descended into chaos. Alarms blared, and lights flickered as the team members fought desperately to contain the creature. But he was relentless, his plant-like body impervious to their efforts. One by one, they fell, succumbing to his vicious assault. Amid the carnage, it became clear that Jorlan was no longer acting of his own will. His attacks were calculated, as if driven by a singular purpose. After incapacitating the entire team, he somehow managed to override the ship's controls and force it to return to their home planet. The citizen's of Sixam were caught completely off guard. The luminescent cities and serene landscapes became battlegrounds as the monstrous plant creatures descended upon them and overwhelmed the unprepared populace with brutal efficiency. The few survivors, driven to the fringes of civilization, could only watch in horror as their world was overrun.

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

fallout (pt 2)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you work with skz in chernobyl. everything is fine....until it isn't.

tags/warnings: gruesome and horrific material, explosions, gory kind of? sorry if i missed anything.... still putting it together.

a/n: oh my god. nothing to say haha

The fallout was everywhere—unseen, but inescapable. The reactor fire roared on, sending a plume of radioactive smoke spiraling into the night. Emergency personnel swarmed the plant, their uniforms hurriedly wrapped in improvised protection. You stood near the triage station in the east wing, Chan by your side, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on your chest.

“Minho’s out there,” Chan muttered, his voice tight. He scanned the room, as if he could will his friend into view.

You gripped his arm gently. “He’s tough. He’ll come back,” you said, though your words felt hollow.

~

Hours later, Minho staggered in, his gait unsteady. His protective gear, smeared with soot and streaks of what looked like chemical burns, was hastily removed by the medics. You rushed over as he collapsed onto a stretcher, his face pale and glistening with sweat.

“Minho!” Chan knelt beside him, his hand finding his friend’s shoulder.

“Hyung…” Minho’s voice was faint, his lips cracked. “I’m fine. Just... give me a minute.”

You glanced at the medic, whose grave expression betrayed the truth. “How bad?” you asked quietly.

The medic hesitated before answering, keeping his voice low. “He’s been exposed. His suit was compromised. We’re seeing acute symptoms—nausea, dizziness. Likely high-dose radiation exposure.”

Chan’s breath hitched, and you saw the worry flash across his face.

“Minho,” you said, leaning closer. “You need to rest. Let them help you.”

“I had to stay,” he murmured, his words slurring slightly. “The coolant tanks—needed opening.” His eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, you thought he’d pass out.

“You’ve done enough,” Chan said firmly, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “Let them take care of you now.”

~

The hours dragged on. Minho’s condition worsened faster than anyone expected. By morning, his skin had taken on a reddish hue, blotchy and raw in places. You stayed with Chan as much as you could, offering silent support as he refused to leave Minho’s side.

“Why didn’t he call for help?” Chan asked aloud, though it seemed more directed at himself than you. “Why didn’t I stop him?”

“Because he wouldn’t let you,” you replied softly. “You know how he is. He’d never let someone else take the risk.”

Chan exhaled shakily, his eyes fixed on Minho. “And now he’s paying for it.”

You placed a hand on his arm, grounding him. “We’re not giving up on him. Neither should you.”

~

Later that evening, you found yourself in the lab, running samples taken from the site. The radiation levels were far worse than anyone anticipated, and you could feel the weight of the knowledge bearing down on you.

Chan appeared in the doorway, his exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes. “Any progress?”

“Nothing good,” you admitted, sliding a report across the counter. “If this continues...” You hesitated. “Minho might not be the only one.”

Chan walked over, his hand brushing yours as he picked up the report. His silence was heavy, and when he finally looked at you, there was a resolve in his eyes you hadn’t seen before.

“Then we’ll stop it,” he said firmly. “Before it gets worse.”

And as you looked at him, you believed him—even if the odds were stacked impossibly high.

[ms0milk]

no cw so self indulgent, farmhand nanami showed up from nowhere like he was made in a lab to bewitch you <1k

He would look better on horseback this morning, cantering through fog falling cold from the mountains. Nanami is a handsome rider and he’s strong enough to do it well. His hips roll like they should in a saddle and his hair was always meant to be mussed by a breeze. Reins fit nicely in his golden hands. Regal might be a word you use as you bundle up in your doorway, watching the man emerge from a quickly-overgrowing gate at dawn. A word you might use if Nanami was actually on horseback and not leading your horse on foot, clearly mired with bramble thorns from waist to boot.

He’s wearing your hat. Nanami draws it low to hide his face and your sweet horse nips at his hand as they walk together; their gaits are both heavy with sleep. He’s never once looked disheveled but this morning his clothes hang quite well over his jeans where he’s usually so careful to tuck them in and in all he embodies the farmhand’s equivalent for wearing odd shoes to carry groceries inside.

A canvas coat that is clearly much too small on his broad shoulders, is thrown over a dress shirt– possibly two– you’ve never seen before and he couldn’t even manage to button one closed. His undershirt glows obnoxiously underneath as it hugs the shapes of his firm body. It’s a blessing to watch, a thought you will keep to yourself, and you open your door a bit wider in invitation.

“Early ride?”

He peers out under his brim at the sound of a voice and tips the hat off his head with a quickness when he sees you. He tightens his sleepy posture. Your pretty cream gelding is returned to his stall for breakfast before Nanami answers your question.

The only thing between the back stalls and your front door is moss. The earth this farm belongs to is wet with life. A thousand horseshoes have flatted the walkway like pressed powder and still the dandelions grow, pollen falls, petals fall, rain falls, snow falls freezes and melts and still your stables are warm and your dusty clearings grow grasses. You tighten your shawl around your shoulders. The morning fields are all mist and the sun can’t be bothered to warm you.

If you surprised him, it doesn’t show. Dewed pebbles crunch under Nanami’s boots as he crosses the clearing to reach you, you standing chilly in your sleepshirt with coffee brewing in the kitchen. You’d like to know why he’s wearing half the bramble patch as pants.

“M’sorry miss,” he rasps like he hasn’t spoken yet today and a quick twitch of his brows is the only thing that hints at embarrassment. Man of few words. English doesn’t seem to be his first language but he won’t tell anyone a thing about himself past what you all can observe. He works well, he works quietly. The animals love him and he doesn’t mind a bit of dirt. Nanami showed up in town a few months ago and the old boss hired him outright when she saw him in a full suit at sunday market. Horndog. She knew how good he’d look in chaps.

“Excuse my thieving” he murmurs this time to keep his voice soft and hangs your hat on the horn beside your door.

“Don’t call me miss, Mr. Nanami.”

“Excuse that too.”

Your hat hugged him too tight and his hair suffers for it, blond bits stuck flat to his head like a teenager with bedhead. He has to hang his head low to look at you for how much taller he is and you haven’t decided whether his dedication to eye contact is chivalry or flirtation. He’ll look through you to the bone with those sharp brown eyes, even if you’ve only just whistled good morning. Something inside him can’t help but call you miss.

“I’d love to hear this story,” you yawn slightly and gesture to his outfit, “I put a pot on.”

Nanami’s head tilts so slightly as he considers all the ways he might decline such an imposing offer but when you bump the door open a touch and bitter, bread, and jam roll out into the morning air you know you’ve got him. After all, what cowboy can resist coffee?

farmhand nanami tag <3

[rabbittf2x]

((I’m back with another insane S/O lmfao))

okay now hear me out S/O doing more insane things to themself? And then Medic needs to stop them from doing that anymore? One time, S/O was about to do another experiment on them self and medic just busts into the room?

[[Gn reader and romantic plz love yer content btw]]

anon🦭🌺-

Thank u sm I’m so happy to hear u like my stuff :’)💞 I’ve said this before but it goes for all y’all sorry for the wait on these requests😭 ily xx

Medic with an Insane!Reader who experiments on themself

You were Medic’s soulmate. To have someone that matched his insane energy, and his love for science was all he could ask for. That was why you needed to understand he was a bit iffy when you experimented on yourself

When you first met Medic, he was more than happy for you to experiment on yourself. In fact, he encouraged it! He tried to join in on the fun, giving you crazy injections or concoctions. But now that you were close, now that he loved you… it was a little different

When Medic couldn’t find you in your room or with the other mercs, he began to panic. That meant you were in his lab about to hurt yourself! He dashed down the hall with a quick, panicked gait. Who knew what you were planning to do?

Medic bursted through the lab doors, making you jump about a foot in the air. You dropped the syringe you were about to inject into your bloodstream, the strange substance from it spilling on the floor

“Oh! Goodness, Medic. You scared the hell outta me!” You gasped dramatically

Medic rushed over to where you stood and set his gloved hands on your shoulders. You looked at him in surprise, your crazy eyes wide

“What did you do to yourself this time?” Medic asked. He broke your insane gaze to look down at the broken syringe on the floor. “What is that? Don’t tell me you injected that into yourself!”

You held your hands up in a surrender. “I was gonna, but you interrupted me!” You exclaimed

Medic sighed in relief, giving your shoulders a squeeze. “Thank goodness. I told you not to experiment on yourself anymore! You are going to get yourself killed.” He scolded

You smiled madly and shook your head. “That’s what you’re for! If I die, you can just bring me back! It’s all for science.” You giggled

Medic shook his head too. “No, dear. I don’t want you to die ever. Even if I can bring you back. I care for you too much to watch you do these things to yourself. That’s what the others are for!” He argued, referring to experimenting on the mercs instead

You shrugged under his hands. “I know. It’s just funner this way. I like to feel what happens.” You said

Medic bit back a smile before leaning in to place a quick kiss to your nose. “Nein, do not care. If you cannot stop for yourself, at least stop for me.” He frowned seriously

Your stared down at the broken syringe for a second, before looking up at him with a crazy smile. You stepped closer to kiss his cheek warmly, before grinning at him some more

“Okay, doctor.” You agreed, making Medic smile back. “I can do it for you.”

[ahbeduo]

I like to think Subject 2 sneaks down to Mond once in a while to indulge in humanity; he eats the local cuisine, and maybe participates in an event once in a blue moon. Because he just gets so damn lonely on the mountain by himself, hiding from Albedo. He thinks Albedo doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he does. It’s why Albedo doesn’t tell anyone he’s going up to the lab anymore.

Because Albedo understands. It feels so isolating, in the snow and the cold, and he always is overcome with relief when he’s back at home in the city. He feels human again, with his family. To not have that must feel soul-crushingly lonely. So if he sees a trail of footprints in his gait and size traveling down the slope, he’ll turn around and hole up in his lab again until Subject 2 finally returns back to his hidden little camp in a few days.

-susbedo anon

oh that's so sweet of him 😭💖💖 Albebe,,,,

Yet he would remain diligent- immediately and subtly see if his sibling had done any harm to anyone, or at least find what he did so he can fill in the blanks Subject 2 had left behind should anyone ask or bring it up.

And while he could confront the other and ask if he enjoyed the trip, he doesn't. He remains silent and pretend to not notice anything

[wheelie-sick]

tomorrow is surgery consultation then hopefully I get to schedule my surgery date and hopefully it will be before the end of the year I'm so scared and excited simultaneously

and unlike my neurology appointment this appointment will go well because I know and like my orthopedist and I already know that gait lab approved me for surgery

[bullet-prooflove]

What about this one for Dean Archer?

“Inside, I'm a mess, but I don't let it show”

Tagging: @kmc1989

You know that Dean is struggling, you can see it in his features. The pinched brow, the clenched jaw, the way he stares at the screen of his tablet, looking but not really seeing.

It had been a shock for you both when that kid had turned up on your table in the morgue, his features distorted from the beating he’d taken a few days before he’d overdosed on heroin.

He was the right height, the right build, he’d even had the same curls as Sean. He’d even had his I.D.

“It’s not him.” Dean had told you, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied the underside of the foot. “Sean has a scar from where he stepped on a broken beer bottle when he was high. It’s not him.”

“OK.” You’d said quietly as you’d pulled the sheet back over the body. “Dean…”

“It’s not my son.” He snaps at you, gesturing towards the dead kid on your slab. “You bring me down here to look at some poor kid’s corpse…”

“He had Sean’s I.D.” You remind him, with a hand on your hip. “That’s why I brought you down here.”

“It is not my son.” He shouts, his voice bouncing off the walls of the morgue as you stand before him. “It’s not Sean, it’s not…”

“Dean…” You reach for him but he jerks away.

“I need to get back to work.” He tells you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his lab coat before he disappears into the elevator.

That had been three hours ago and you can tell he’s still reeling from the shock, from the possibility it could have been Sean. He doesn’t say anything when you head towards the Doctor’s Lounge on a break, he won’t even look at you. You already know it’s going to be one of those kind of nights which is why you pick up the second shift down in the morgue helping with the back log. You’d rather be here keeping occupied than at home in the silence, waiting for your husband to show up.

It’s three in the morning when he finds you. You’re in your office, typing up your notes from the thirty three year old woman you’d just had on your table when you hear the door open and close. You know it’s Dean by the sound of his footsteps, there’s a certain pace, a certain gait. He clears his throat as he sets a candy bar down on the desk between the two of you, using his fingertips to push it towards you.

It's a Reeses, your favourite.

It’s also an olive branch, his way of apologising for his outburst, for shutting you out.

You tilt your head towards him and he swallows hard because Dean firmly believes that one of these days you’ll realise that you’re too good for him, that you deserve better than his baggage.

You reach for the chocolate and a relief blossoms inside his chest because this is your way of telling him he’s forgiven, that he hasn’t destroyed this marriage, the same way he did the last one.

“I could do with a hug right about now.” He finds himself saying, his eyes stinging just a little.

He finds it hard to ask for affection, to want it. You get that and you understand how much this concession costs him. He’s told himself for so long he doesn’t need anyone that he almost believes it. It goes against his nature to ask for help, to vocalise his needs but he’s trying to change that.

When your arms wrap around him, the tension begins to ebb from his body. He can feel his muscles relaxing, the stress of the day starting to erode. There’s a comfort in you he’s never had with any other woman. You’re a safe haven, a port in the midst of a storm and he treasures that more than he could ever admit.

“I thought it was him.” He says finally as you hold him close. “For a minute, I really thought that it was him.”

Love Dean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[hollowbutcanlove]

It's all your fault Pt I

yoru x fem!reader

18+ only

warnings: shooting, mention of murders, murder, blood, swearing, human experimentation, mention of deaths, naked body.

words: 2565

a/n: new fanfic for several chapters. there will be love-hate with a hot japanese guy. inspired by some songs walking in tiktok. there is no special semantic importance in russian phrases in the fanfic, you can not translate. and also the reader knows thoroughly two languages - russian and english.

Traveling to the far northern part of Siberia was no joy. The huge drifts of snow and the bone-chilling chill reminded Yoru of the mission on Icebox. He awaited orders to move on. Brimstone had recently received a report of a lab containing a radiant. There were no details, even Cypher couldn't dig up anything good. What was known was that it was a young girl who was related to one of the scientists involved in the case. Had the Kingdom gotten to this? The boy waved his head, brushing the thoughts away. Need to focus.

Killjoy and her instruments were studying the surroundings. Something, and the Russians were good at hiding secret laboratories. How could they think to place it in the center of the taiga? No sane person would think of doing such a thing.

In an instant the joyful voice of a German woman, who seemed to have found the location of the entrance, was heard. Putting the patrolmen to sleep had been easy, they had managed it half an hour ago. Their bodies were lying somewhere in the snow and had long since frozen, as the agents had put their thermoforms on over their clothes. They would be less visible in the forest, and warmer anyway. The frost here is comparable to the cold of Antarctica.

"Let's get started,” - Killjoy unlocked the entrance with a special card and the automatic door slowly opened, revealing the sight of several steps down, heading for another locked door.

Sova nods to Yoru and he obediently follows. Clove, who had volunteered for this mission, made their way to the front of the group with an easy gait.

"If you behave like that, they will immediately guess that you are not Russian, " - Sova remarked. - "Russians don't smile at work. They suffer."

"Ugh, how horrible they are, " - said Clove, after which they calmed down a little.

"Let's shut our mouths and get down to business, my ears are freezing to hell,” - Yoru grumbled unhappily.

The building looked unfriendly from the inside and even looked like a modern bunker. Sova and Yoru kept aloof, maintaining the appearance of unperturbed guards who had returned from patrol. Clove held Killjoy's hands, which were cuffed together. She was an 'infiltrator' who was to be placed in the local 'jail'. But with the help of her robots, she would easily get out and get the information she needed if necessary. The guys planned to make a commotion, and the germanic woman would take care of the technical part and information under this turmoil.

Surprisingly, the corridors were quiet. Strangely quiet. Usually the lab labs were crowded with people scurrying about, busy with business.

Yoru exhaled, looking around the interior. The signs in the unfamiliar language said next to nothing. Sova clearly understood their contents, but didn't pause. Apparently we hadn't arrived at our destination yet. The cameras in the corridor looked far from advanced. The Russian agent said the guards in Russia were mediocre. They are usually slack, even at important facilities. Yoru smirked.

"It'll be easy."

"Не говори "гоп", пока не перепрыгнешь,” - Sova said quietly in his native tongue.

As they approached the central area, people began to appear. One of them even came up to inquire about the strange girl they were leading.

"Американская шпионка, " - Sova answered briefly.

" Ромка, чего с тобой? Ты простыл?" - The man bowed his head incredulously". - "Голос какой-то осипший."

" Да, что-то прихворал."

"Тогда бросайте ее в изолятор, а затем тебе бы передохнуть."

A few dead people obviously wouldn't be much of a problem for such illegal and anti-human laboratories. Killjoy had successfully hacked into the system, triggered an alarm that set the whole building off, and also figured out the location of the target they were now near the door. Clove was busy covering her back while Sova unlocked the door using the fingerprint of one of the dead men. The door opened heavily.

Inside was a capsule filled with a strange radianite-colored liquid, with a girl inside with many wires and tubes connected.

"Whoa, what is this? "- Sova scrutinized the capsule, figuring out how to get the girl out of it.

Yoru only observed. The girl was in a fetal position, completely naked. Apparently in some sort of induced coma. Her skinny body spoke of the fact that she was underfed. Whether this was due to lack of funding from Kingdom or the scientists' own whim was unknown. Nevertheless, her form looked quite attractive, making the japanese man distracted for a moment from the situation going on around him. His dick seemed to be getting hard.

"Don't yawn,”- Clove waved in front of his hand.

"We need to shut down the life support system and smash this thing,” - Killjoy shouted, firing a few bullets somewhere ahead of herself. - "Yoru, Sova, give me a hand. I'll handle the shutdown."

Sova pulled out a knife and stabbed the glass several times with all his might, testing it for strength. Nothing. Apparently the material is good, shockproof. Yoru sighs irritably and looks around and notices a red box on the wall in the corner. It has something written on it in russian, but most likely it's a special device for breaking glass in emergencies. Taking this thing, which looks like a mixture of an axe and a knife, the guy strikes the capsule with all his might, which causes it to spread a web of cracks.

"Once again,” - Sova said.

"I know without you,” - Yoru snapped at him and threw a few more blows.

The glass bursts, and with it liquid spills out in all directions. The unfamiliar girl falls to the bottom of the capsule, but Yoru manages to grab her before her naked body makes contact with the shattered floor. Sova quickly disconnects all the devices and notices the strange collar around her neck.

"What an abomination,” - Yoru didn't particularly like the liquid that was dripping off the girl.

"I think this thing has tracking capabilities, too. Let me take it off,” -Killjoy pulled out some kind of device and unlocked the collar in a few seconds, which fell loudly to the floor. -" They'd put that much weight on that slender neck? That's terrible!"

"Let's get out of here quickly."

But immediately, there was a scream that threw everyone back against the walls. A powerful sound wave was coming from the stranger. Yoru was thrown painfully into a wall with some protrusions, which made him growl and grimace in frustration. Sova and Killjoy were less injured and immediately assumed a fighting stance.

You breathed deeply, trying to steady your breathing. Your temples were throbbing like hell, and your whole body ached-somebody had abruptly shut down the support system, and judging by the splinters on the floor, they'd done a pretty rough job of it. You grabbed your head with your hands, and then breathed a sigh of relief - there was no damn collar around your neck. You are free. Your eyes catch movement in the neighborhood and you see people you don't know, clearly not from around here. They're pointing guns at you. But those guns are no barrier to you. Your ability to control sound will deafen these people in no time. You take air into your lungs and let out a scream, which is amplified many times, making everyone around you cover their ears and instinctively close their eyes. You grab the robe hanging nearby, slip it on, and run down the corridors. It doesn't matter where - away from this nightmare.

Along the way, you're confronted by the dead bodies of most of the inhabitants. Thankfully, they haven't touched you and your chance of survival is increased. Your feet are covered in blood, but you don't mind. As you wander the corridors, you look for an elevator to get to the top.

With your super-sensitivity to sound, you feel a noticeable fluctuation in space, which is expressed in the lowest decibels. Something was wrong and you didn't know what it was. The coveted door was nowhere to be found and you were starting to get annoyed. Had they changed the layout? Or was the data they had originally shown you not correct?

Stopping at one of the posters, you studied its contents. It showed emergency exit options in case of emergencies. Looks like the elevator wasn't that far away from you. An emergency elevator. You smile and for a minute your stomach twists, making you grab your stomach and vomit a weird-looking slurry. It looks like a few drops of that radionite got into your stomach. There's a ripping sound nearby, and you turn to look at it. One of those strangers appeared in front of you out of nowhere. He was wearing a strange mask associated with Japanese mythology.

"Got you, bitch,” - he wheezed. - "You burst our fucking eardrums. I'm not going to treat you like a helpless baby after this."

"Back off,” - you say, and direct the sound wave of your voice toward him, but he disappears. Can he teleport?

You rush off down the path you're on, ignoring all the other things. The important thing now is to get out, and what happens next doesn't matter. You'll find whatever you need.

Once at the elevator, you immediately start pressing various buttons trying to call the elevator as fast as possible. It obediently rises from the minus floors. You wait tensely, listening to the noises around you. You feel the vibration of breath near your ear, then turn sharply, about to use your primary weapon.

"Shh,” - your mouth is covered with your hand. - "Your powers are useless now, kusotare (idiot). I've got you and now you're coming with me."

You tense up with all your might, and then you bite the guy's palm, making him hiss and pull his hand away, but the other one grabs you by the throat. You look around frightened, unable to make a sound. The elevator beeps its arrival and you smirk. You don't have to use your mouth to attack with sound. You gather sound waves with your hand and direct them towards the stranger. He flies a few meters away from you, after which you run inside and press the conk going upstairs. The guy doesn't have time to teleport to you before you take the elevator upwards.

With a sigh of relief, you lean against the wall and try to catch your breath. You didn't expect such a twist of fate in your life. Instead of taking you to work after graduation, your father took you as a lab rat and conducted all sorts of experiments on you with the help of radianit. As it turned out, he ruined your mother that way, too. Soulless bastard, you wish he were dead.

Your eyes watered at the memory of your mother. You looked up and blinked several times. If you go to the police-these Kingdom people might hush up the case and lock you up in another lab, continuing their experiments and brainwashing. Then what do you do? You didn't know. You didn't even know where the damn lab was, but you assumed it wasn't in the center of the country, but somewhere far away. Sparsely populated and far from friendly.

The elevator stops and the doors open. An endless snowy taiga opens up to your view. The cold immediately chills you to the bone, making you wrap yourself more tightly in a light medical coat. Still, it would have been better to stay down there, wouldn't it?

The neighboring elevator also opens and you spot a painfully familiar and hateful face.

"Y/N! Dear daughter!" - he smiles playfully and takes a step towards you.

You instinctively reach forward.

"Don't you dare come near me, asshole."

"Well, well, well," - he keeps his hands at a distance looking at you. The elevator closes and rides down. - "Why are you like this, my darling? I want what's best for you."

"Good? You fucking psycho killed my mother and now you're gonna kill me? One more step and you'll be torn to pieces."

"Your mom was too old for all that, so it went very badly. But you're different. Look", - the elevator immediately opens up and out of there comes the stranger who was chasing you along with some short haired girl? (I know Clove is non-binary, but we're judging from the perspective of a reader who doesn't know). -" Soon people will arrive and we'll fly to a safer place."

He took a step toward you, not even paying attention to the people behind him.

You warned.

He starts to say something, but you manage to catch the threads of sound waves in his throat and form them into a lump. You pull it over him and the man's throat vomits mercilessly. Blood stains the snow-white snow with a scarlet palette. The wheezing and coughing sounds your once father makes, trying to grasp at the last chance at life, but you only watch his demise emotionlessly. You would have liked to make his death even more painful, but there was no way - you had to run away from these people. But where to?

"You're going to run to this snowy grave? Well, good luck,” - he smirked smugly, folding his arms across his chest.

You hesitated for a moment. I'd rather die in the snow than be taken by one of those crazy people. Your feet automatically ran deep into the taiga. The cold burned your whole body, but you ran. And the temporary heat generated by your body's movements helped you warm up a little. But with every minute you felt your body weakening and your limbs ceasing to obey. In an instant you stumble over your own feet and fall into a snow drift. You breathe heavily and feel like you're about to fall into oblivion.

"Where'd you run to, kusotare?" - A stranger appears in front of you out of nowhere and squats down. He stares at you intently.

"Are you here to kill me? Then do it quickly. I've already been tortured."

"I have no business killing a weakling like you. "- A jacket falls on you and you're lifted off the ground. The snow still clinging to you is cold, but the warm leather jacket they wrapped you in is starting to warm you up. - "We're here to pick you up. Another piece of baggage that will drag our progress down."

"Ha-ah, fuck you,” - you don't have time to speak before you're dropped into unconsciousness.

"Caught her?" - Clove peered in Yoru's hands in surprise, trying to see Y/N's haggard face.

"Can't you see? Or did you not only have holes in your ears, but also in your eyes? "- throws Yoru, and then puts the girl on a special couch in the airplane.

"How cruel you are," - shakes his head Clove, then sits down next to the new future agent. - "And she's cute, isn't she?"

"I've never seen anyone scarier," - the guy shakes his head.

"Your friend doesn't think so,” - Killjoy remarks. - "You should wear looser pants, puberty ulcer."

Yoru only makes a disgruntled noise and sits down a little further away from everyone. He pulls out his cell phone and starts fiddling with it. Killjoy checks on the girl's condition and then Sage, who arrived with the helicopter, joins her.

Looks like someone is going to be made fun of in the near future.

[cuprohastes]

The Lab Rats

Dave the Human and Dave The Human were checking on the moss substrates - Spot checking for anything that might have snuck in, or any environmental issues that could be detected by checking the moss's bio-accumulation.

Garfield "Garf" Bloom, a 7ft tall, kinda reptilian biped rolled in, in her normal-for-the-species gait, hauled out Un-Named Male, her little guy, out of her pouch and dropped him from a moderate height onto the moss bank.

"Hey Garf." said the Dave that was a female Tsin for biological reasons and a male human for Payroll reasons.

"Yo, you two." said the Dave who was Human, plausibly male but had spent a week as a Female Atrix, as part of a plot to annoy the government.

Un-Named Male flashed a howdy with his display patch and wiggled into the patch of purple moss happily, which is a small Atrix's natural habitat.

"So I heard that the Human science labs still use rats." Garf said. "Do you... not use bio-chips or clone cells?"

Dave with scales scratched her chin. "Dave, you want to take this one?"

Other Dave wiggled a probe into a particularly scruffy clump of moss and nodded. "Indeed I do!" he said.

"You see, rats are very social, and have a short generation span. Back before we could load up cells onto a chip for testing we needed them for... well testing."

"Yesh! Pretty much everyone did that at some point in history." added Dave The Human, Running a spectrograph on a sample to check the light absorption was within the expected range.

Un-Named Male jsut lurked in the soft, moist moss and let the high UV lighting play on his back, which added nothing to the conversation, but he did look very comfortable.

"Right. So when it stopped being necessary for uh, biological testing, rats were often used for behavioural testing. Non-human cognition, social studies, that sort of thing."

"OK..." said Garf, quietly wiggling her fingers into the moss and making a kneading motion, a common and casual motion that would break up the substrate and allow aeration. It was soothing - Even a big Atrix like Garf remembered the comfort of hiding in a moss patch.

The Atrix parts of The Station were basically covered in various species of Moss - Their solution to air quality and comfort, and it'd taken the humans about nine seconds to point at a wall mat of deliciously verdant and fuzzy plant life and go 'Want!'.

Indeed, the introduction of non-native species for one's living quarters was just one of the benefits of the Human-Atrix alliance.

The Tsin, who developed scales to keep their water on the inside had not really taken to it so much, but if you want some fungus to add a little pizazz, they're the go-to.

"Anyway, eventually it sort of got to be a hobby thing. People like rats. They make great pets, they quite like us, and they're very non-judgemental. So someone did this study and found that labs that had a colony of two or more rats had better results... The scientists could go over and fuss with the little fuzzballs and de-stress, and it turns out if you sit down and explain your experiments to a rat, you often figure out what is causing you problems."

"Seriously?" asked Dave The Human.

"Seconded." said Garf.

"Wait, aren't they vermin?"

"Oh totally." said Dave, "Well some are. Same species. But... it turns out if you give them the opportunity they're little fuzzy buddies, so we brought them with us."

"And they're used by human scientists... to figure things out indirectly?"

"For real. Sometimes they get cited in papers as authors," said Dave happily. "I used to keep a couple when I was a Little Guy"

Note: Little Guy in this case is an Atrix phrase. The Atrix pretty much only have one gender which is size. It actually doesn't distinguish male or female. That's a human thing. Even the Tsin have four biological sexes. Un-Named Male is only nominally male because he's small. He is an adult of the species. One day he's going to put on some body mass and develop bipedal locomotion and eventually be a large Atrix, and get his own Little Guy, and be referred to as female.

"That's why they're called Lab Rats - They're essential to Human Science."

Garf pondered this, leaning to run her cheek along a mossy wall. "We just talk to our little guys." she noted casually and a patch of moss said "Grak" in confirmation.

The Tsin in the room made a face. "Dang, yo. I think we're missing out!"

"Hmm," said the more human of the Daves. "I smell an Interspecies Xenthropology collab..."

And that, dearly beloved, is how the Tsin got their Rats.

[chaos-familiar]

[while roaming the lab, you come across something strange. there appears to be food cooking on the stove, but Monsterfucker Research Wizard isn't home, and as far as you're aware, neither are MFRW's partners. you don't see anyone, but you hear a cabinet squeak suddenly as you turn the corner to check.]

... and WHat is tHIs? FOOD??

[I search for what caused the small noise, stepping slowly with a swaying gait... flapping my wings, talons clicking as I step on the hard floor... peering with a craning of my neck inside the cabinet... orbs of void look within.]

@fallow-grove

[inkyquince]

This is a kofi commission for @letstalktea! They sweetly requested Harper being a right little creep over his hermaphrodite reader and a professional letter regarding your health turns very very unprofessional.

content warning. implied somnophilia, medical malpractise, petnames, masturbation, cum stains on the second letter. hermaphrodite reader. dubcon, harper being a nasty. sadly the cum stains on the letter is pretty hard to see.

transcript:

Dear Mx, 

I wished to send a follow up letter after our last appointment that took place last Friday. After your dizzy spell in my office, I am satisfied with the results of the tests we run on you, with your permission. 

The results were quite clear and you will find enclosed the details of the test, but most importantly the medication I wish for you to start taking. You will be required to come in as soon as convenient to pick up the prescription from my office and then the pills from the chemist. You will start noticing the effects around two weeks after taking them and hopefully you will start feeling much better, in more ways than one. 

Sadly there are some side effects that we are more than prepared to help you with. You will notice that your body is more sensitive, especially certain areas, such as your fingers, lips, ears, feet, chest and genitals. You might also notice your libido may increase, or certain areas might swell. We shall talk about it more when  you come in, but all of these side effects are well worth it. 

I will admit that on a more personal level, rather than professional, that you gave me quite the fright collapsing like that. You have lived in this town long enough to know better than to do that by now. I cannot even stress the amount of sleep I would lose if I knew you were out there, liable to faint, be so vulnerable and alone and open for the taking by any man with ill intentions towards you. 

I could barely contain myself seeing you passed out in my office… 

It is as if you are unaware of your own affect on people. I would love to pick your brain about that. Maybe take you in for an examination. Maybe even have you over at my asylum, just for a short stay of course. For your own good. 

Don’t worry, you wouldn’t have to interact with the rest of the patience. Just you and I as you recover and allow me to examine you everyday. Of course we’d make sure that you can happily keep up a routine, and your studies in between the exams. I, of course, will still be busy with the hospital and the other asylum patients, but we both know that if I could, I would spend an overwhelming amount of my time by your side. As your doctor, of course. 

Also I don’t want you to think that any of the tests would be painful, not at all! You’ll be more of a little lab mouse, and we aim not to hurt those little darlings. You’re more delicate, with those big eyes that look so innocently at me even as we both know that your innocence has been long since tarnished. As if you’re trying to make it up to me. As if saying “See, Doctor Harper? Right here for you to dirty up yourself.” Darling thing. You’re a very special patient to me and you use that, don’t you? Trusting me with your vulnerable body and leaning into my touch as I examine you. Sometimes I like to think that you’re just pretending to be asleep, and you’re encouraging me with those spread legs. Allows me to flip up that skirt or tug down those trousers to look at that cute lump in those panties. 

You’re such a rare specimen, how could I ever resist? Not when that cock is so happy to see me. You’re always so stiff the moment I play with it, as if you’re encouraging me. See, Doctor Harper, see? That cunt of yours welcomes me in, the second I start touching it, spreading those lips to admire how you glisten. Always so wet and excited, pussy greedy for anything I can give it over and over and over again. 

Best of all, you’re so relaxed when you leave. You can’t tell at all, can you? The way you’re less stiff, your gait carefree. I know for a fact you left with a smile after I played with your tits. 

You turn me into who I was a long time ago. You always do. No matter where I meet you, just a glimpse of your skin, your lips, your throat, and I’m not better than who I was. It almost makes me wish I was your schoolmate, fingering your helpless pussy in Science. Or better, I ask to take up shifts for the nurse at school and you can spend all your free time in my office, letting me play with your cock as you lay there, begging me to ease your stress. 

The moment you step into the asylum, I don’t think my composure will hold out. You’re my little mouse, scurrying through my halls, my office, my rooms. How would I ever resist you then? I should just strip you bare, but I don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, little cock flaccid between your thighs and nipples hard from the cold air. People can see you when you’re aroused, begging for something to fill you up, but not while you’re vulnerable. All exposed. That’s for me only.  If you want I can stay overnight. I don’t usually but I can only think about seeing how much I can ruin you with the few hours I have. Fill you with cum and jerk that limp cock, barely able to cum anymore. I want you crying for me, from overstimulation and love, my mouse unable to take anymore but I’ll make you. I want you wearing my underwear in our therapy sessions, I want you to want me so much you can’t even wait a full hour before climbing into my lap and kissing me. 

We’re going to need practice. It is humiliating but I want to tell you. The few kisses we’ve shared, I could barely contain myself. Your lips are so soft and it makes me nearly cum each time. Just once I pressed my cockhead against your lips and just watched my precum smear over them, how it slowly dribbled into your mouth, and the way my cum painted your face after just a few strokes? I thought it would calm me, but it just made me hungrier. A taste. 

I can’t do this anymore. I will remain my professional self, I will. Just let me fuck you on my fingers and then my cock. Let me keep you, little mouse. 

Which comes back around to our meeting later. 

We’re going to do a urine test that I wish to personally oversee, just in case you haven’t eaten anything that could interfere with the medication we wish to put you on. There will also be a physical test, also done by me. I can’t wait to see you bare again. Just to make sure you��re physically healthy for our planned regime. 

So, see you tomorrow and maybe pack a bag. 

Remember, if you lose your way, I can send someone to help you make your way over. 

Signed

Harper

Doctor Harper 

Kofi

Patreon

[skylarmoon71]

Lance Sweets (Bones) - Oneshot: Extra

“There’s three guys in there!”

Hodgins sounds a bit panicked. When Booth brought the two of you to the most recent crime scene, you hadn’t actually expected assassins to show up. You’re all hiding in the bathroom.

“Booth, did you see any guns?”

He shakes his head.

You nod, reaching for the knob.

“See you on the other side.”

When you dart out the door, Hodgins looks at you as if you’ve grown another head.

“What is she doing!!” Hodgins asks quietly.

He doesn’t get an answer. Booth shakes his head when he hears the many grunts and punches. There’s a distinct sound of a table breaking. It finally quiets down.

“We’re clear.” You call.

Booth holsters his gun, pushing the door open. Hodgins follows behind, still a bit hesitant. When they break the corner, all three bodies are on the ground. One of them has his head stuck through the broken glass table. The others are groaning on the floor.

“That last one put up a fight.” You state as you rotate your arm.

“Are you freaking Wonder Woman!?”

With a shrug, you bend down, reaching into their pockets. There’s no surprise that they lack identification.

“You should probably call this in, we’ll need to question them.”

Booth just walks away with a grumble as he pulls out his phone.

“I could have helped.” He mutters dejectedly.

You smile, and Hodgins is still trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

By the time you all make it back to the lab Hodgins is telling some crazy story about what went down. You all have the three men in custody as the bureau continues to work at their identities.

“I swear it was like a freaking movie. She took out all three of them.” Hodgins exclaims. Angela laughs.

“You shouldn’t mess with women, am I right?”

Brennan nods in approval.

Camile chuckles.

“I guess we all have our specialties. You’re going to have to show me some moves sometime. Given how often we tend to get breached, it might come in handy.”

She’s not exactly wrong.

Your eyes stray for a second when you see the suit. You assume it’s Booth, but when you spot the face of a certain psychologist, your once confident stance changes.

“What’s the occasion?”

He jokes when he spots the small group. His eyes take a moment, but the second he sees you, his gait slightly changes.

Your silence to his question catches the attention of everyone present. Angela and Hodgins exchange a look. Camille smiles. Brennan is the only one who looks a bit unclear of what’s happening.

“I just remembered that we have to go do something. Don’t we?” Angela questions. They all nod, but Brennan still looks lost.

“What thing?” Brennan asks.

“Oh sweetie, just follow me.” Angela takes her arm, leading her away and the rest of the following suit.

Now it’s just the two of you. Your pointed glare follows your friends who have undoubtedly betrayed you.

It’s impossible to make this any less awkward.

“I should get going. Booth probably needs a hand interrogating those guys.” You finally work out.

“O-Of course, they aren’t going to interrogate themselves, am I right?” His laughter is obviously to cover up the uncomfortable atmosphere. You just give a stiff nod, turning with the intention of walking away as fast as you possibly can.

“(Y/N), wait.”

He reaches over, taking your wrist softly to stop you. The action makes you pause. You’re overly conscious of the warmth from his hand. You look up and he guides you to the side, out of the main view of others. Once he does, he seems to realize that he’s still holding you. He releases almost immediately.

“I feel like we should address this matter. The longer we prolong it the worse it’s going to get. It doesn’t exactly make for an efficiently functioning work environment.”

He’s right. But what exactly does he want you to say?

Maybe you should just pretend.

“I don’t really see a problem.”

He looks a bit confused, then he smiles.

“I see what you’re doing. By avoiding the problem you think that you could rationalize that there’s nothing between us.”

“There is nothing between us.” You reason.

“Really?”

“Really.” You confirm.

Sweets takes a step forward, and you find yourself backing up. You stumble against the wall, and his eyes search yours.

“I’ll admit that given my profession I should have seen it sooner. If you’d like to pretend that you don’t feel a thing then I can’t force you to admit it. I just want you to know that I do have feelings for you. As unprofessional as it is, I have to be honest about how I feel. “

You gulp, it’s easier to deny it when you assume these feelings are one sided. But what are you supposed to do now that he has admitted that. Sweets takes another step,and you press your hand to his shoulder, lips quiver.

“W-Wait..”

You need to be the voice of reason. If he gets any closer that won’t happen.

“We..” You take a breath to calm yourself down.

“We work together. Y-You can’t..w-we can’t…”

“That statement implies that you feel the same way.” He adds.

“I-I don’t.”

“Then you should probably push me away. You easily took down three guys, subduing me should be simple.”

So he did hear.

That’s a bit infuriating.

Why was he testing you right now?

“Damn psychologists.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Push me away (Y/N).”

He whispers.

You bite your lip, gripping the collar of his shirt, you pull him down for a kiss. He’s obviously caught a bit off guard, but he reciprocates, sliding one hand against the wall as he draws you closer.

You should not be doing this. There’s so many reasons why this is a bad idea, but you’ve been dreaming about his lips for too long to stop now. Your hand moves from his collar, sliding over his chest. A soft sound escapes your lips at the feel of him, and his mouth opens as his tongue slips past your lips. You welcome it, meeting him halfway. He’s the one that moans this time and you’re almost positive you’ve never heard something more beautiful.

“Sweets?”

Booth’s voice pulls you out of your daze and you push Sweets back. He staggers, and you stare, clearly shocked. Booth pretty much gapes, and you press a hand to your lips.

“I-I have to go.” You say hurriedly as you rush past Booth.

That’s apparently your trademark now.

Running away.

“H-Hey wait sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

His words fall on deaf ears. Booth turns back to Sweets who is licking his lips, clearly still a bit thrown by the kiss.

“Really, (Y/N)? You know she can snap you like a twig right?” Booth’s words aren’t fully acknowledged.

“I have to go.”

Sweets is clearly distracted. He just walks away.

“Come on!!”

The rest of the day you try your best to limit your interactions with Sweets. You’re at least a bit grateful for Booth’s discretion. He hasn’t spread your little incident to a certain group of nosy scientists. Not that they are ignorant to what’s going on.

“So, are you going to avoid him forever?”

Booth had swung by your office, no doubt to torment you.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, I was there. I saw you shoving your tongue down the guy’s throat.”

You blush, sending him the most venomous look. Booth lifts his hands.

“Hey, I’m just saying what I saw.”

You hate that he’s right. Even more that you haven’t been able to think about much but that kiss. How good it felt. Not just to touch him, but to have those feelings reciprocated. The both of you have been working together for a few months, almost a year. In all that time you can’t believe you never noticed. Maybe you just didn’t want to. Somehow pretending to be blind made it easier.

“Sweets might be a handful, but he’s a good guy. You should give him a chance.”

“Really, you’re giving me relationship advice.”

“I give good advice!” Booth defends.

“Mhmm.”

“Whatever, you could say what you want, but you must have it bad for him. Otherwise you would have floored him the second he even got within an inch of your space. Honestly I can’t believe I didn’t notice before. I guess this explains that little fight in the office last time. All that pent up frustration.”

“Do you want me to hit you?” Booth smiles.

“All I’m saying is that you should give it a shot. You never know what could happen.”

You hate it when he actually makes a reasonable point.

It’s irritating.

You intend to say just that, but there’s a knock on your door and someone enters. You both turn your focus.

“Hey.”

Sweets look a bit awkward, and unconsciously, you cross your legs under the desk. The heat of that kiss has returned.

Booth smirks.

“I’ll get out of the way of you two love birds.”

Booth moves to the door, giving Sweets a pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t mess it up, shrink.”

Nothing else is said. The door closes and you stand. You feel like you should make a run for it again.

“I’m sorry.”

His apology wasn’t where you saw the conversation going.

“I shouldn’t have made a move on you like that. It was unprofessional.” He runs a hand over the back of his head.

“I was the one who kissed you.”

He nods, a bashful smile on his face.

“You did, but I didn’t exactly stop it.”

You fidget.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You finally admit.

He looks at you, and you can tell just from his expression that he’s picturing it. Kissing you, touching you. Your face must look quite the same.

Just looking at him seems to be too much. You clear your throat, breaking contact.

“Listen, I like my job. It’s the first time in years that I feel like I’m doing something good that doesn’t compromise my values.”

He knows you’re referring to your time in the navy.

Sweets nods.

“I understand. I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

You shake your head, and you will yourself to take a step closer. He meets your gaze when you’re directly in front of him.

“I’ll admit that everything about this, it terrifies me. But someone wise just told me that it’s better to take a chance. I’d like to give this a try, if that’s something you’re interested in. “

“I am!”

His immediate response isn’t what you expect. Sweets swallows, running a hand down his tie.

“I mean I’d like to see where this goes too.”

You smile.

“Whatever happens from here on out, I just need to know that it won’t affect our work. It’s not like I’m planning for this to implode in our faces. But we need to be realistic. This job needs to take precedence regardless of what happens in the future.”

“I agree. No matter what, we always get the job done.”

Sweets holds out his hand for you to shake. You can’t stop smiling at the gesture.

“I guess I know why you’re called Sweets.”

His brows furrow.

“Why do you think they-”

You step forward, grabbing his cheeks as you pull him in for a kiss. His eyebrows shoot up, hands automatically going around your waist. You grin against his lips and he spins around, pressing you against the door. The collision has you humming, and his expression softens and he slides both to your cheeks, trying to taste as much as he possibly can from your lips.

You have absolutely no complaints.