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that-gt-and-vore-stuffs · 3 years

Text

Experiment 05SB

Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”

I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!

Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.

“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.

“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”

“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?

“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.

“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?

“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.

“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?

“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.

“Hey I-!”

“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”

“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.

“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.

“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”

“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn’t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.

And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.

Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.

“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?

“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“

Gggnnnnnnrrrr…

Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.

Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.

“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.

Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….

“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”

They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-

Hold on.

That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.

Title: Log 073SB

Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.

Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.

“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”

There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”

“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”

“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.

“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.

Grrrrroowwwllll…

2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”

The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.

“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”

The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.

“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.

Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.

Glk

Glp~

Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.

“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”

The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.

Glrk

Grk~

“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.

Glp

Glrk~

Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.

“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.

Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.

“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.

“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.

“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.

“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.

“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.

“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.

“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.

Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.

“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”

He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.

—————————

“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.

“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.

“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.

“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”

“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”

As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.

Title: Experiment 05SB

Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.

The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-

“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.

“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”

“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”

Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.

“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.

“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”

#soft vore #mawedness combat #hahaha finally!#I’ve been waiting to use that tag #implied fatal #oopsie #it’s no named character so I guess it’s not bad #I mean this is in the M4dc0m universe so don’t expect my works with these fuckers to be as sunshine as some of my N3ws¡3s ones were #2b I do hope you won’t hate me for this if you can see it

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ilguna · 3 years

Text

Anteric - Aleatory (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing. BLOOD.

wc; 4.6k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

In the ceremony room, factions are arranged in concentric circles. On the very outside circle is where you’ll be standing with the rest of the sixteen year-olds from every faction. Since you’re not an actual member from Abnegation, you’re not allowed to sit with them during the ceremony. It doesn’t matter if you intend to stay with them or not.

What you choose today will make you an initiate, and if you complete initiation, you become a member. While some factions are difficult to get into, like Erudite, Candor and Dauntless, others are much easier, like Abnegation and Amity. Which narrows down today’s choice.

You and the rest of the teenagers here, move around to put yourselves in alphabetical order according to your last names. It lands you between a Candor boy, dressed in black and a white. And a Dauntless girl, dressed only in black, playing with the piercing in her nose. Finnick is further down the list, since his name starts with ‘O’, this means that you’ll get to choose before him.

In the next circle are rows of chairs for your families, with each faction divided into slices to avoid inter-mingling. You watch as Reed brings Alyssum to a single chair, not wanting her to occupy another since she’s only three. He sits down, and places her right on his lap, letting her play with the sleeves of her shirt. Even with kids, they have to wear clothes that are too big for them. Reed says that she’ll grow into them as she gets older.

Because the responsibility of hosting the Choosing Ceremony rotates every year, it falls on Candor this time. Their leader is a tall man with dark hair and dull grey eyes. Haymitch Abernathy looks as bored as he does each time he appears anywhere. He stands on a podium that fits tightly between Erudite and Dauntless. He doesn’t smile.

As the chairs fill, silence begins to settle on the factions, with the exception of Dauntless. Once there’s not a single space left, they take the hint on their own, and allow Haymitch to go on with the ceremony.

You curl your hands into fists at your sides, staring at the back of Reed’s head.

Haymitch’s voice is very monotone, “Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony, the day we honor the democratic philosophy given to us by our ancestors. Let us say thank you for allowing them to give us the idea that every man has a right to choose his own way in the world.”

It’s mostly the Abnegation that murmurs out a quiet ‘thanks’. You keep your lips sealed, unlike everyone in this room, who had been told what they should go do, you’re left to your own thoughts. You actually get to make the choice on how you live the rest of your life. Three different factions, three different lifestyles. Only one of which you are familiar with.

Which is why you should stick to Abnegation.

“Our children are now sixteen. They are on the edge of adulthood, which means that it’s now time for them to decide what kind of people they will decide to be. A long time ago, our ancestors realized that politics, religion, race and nationalism are not to blame for the awful world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of a human’s nature to go towards evil.

“Since evil presents itself in many different ways, factions were formed to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world’s disarray.” Haymitch pauses for a moment, “Those who blamed aggression formed Amity.”

Amity, a faction that already has someone from your family. Yet, you don’t qualify for it like he does.

The Amity share smiles, dressed in yellow, orange and red to trick their minds into being happier. They sing songs, pick apples from trees, and live in healthy communities. They are loving, and care-free and kind, everything that you’re not, since you picked up the knife and eliminated this option. You chose violence over peace without knowing what it represented.

“Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite.”

With how Erudite has been behaving recently, they’ve made it easy for you to turn your back to them. It’s the easiest decision that you’ve made all day, and it really says something, doesn’t it?

They all hold one article of blue clothing, since blue is supposed to soothe the mind into being calm. Most of them also wear glasses, to make themselves seem smarter to others. You think it makes them look stupid.

“Those who blamed duplicity created Candor,” Haymitch’s lips turn up slightly, creating just the ghost of a smile.

Even if you had wanted to join Candor, it’s not an option. They don’t lie, and their initiation process has something to do with that, you’re sure. They can pick out liars, and they think keeping secrets is a form of lying. Since you’re Divergent, the entire faction is a hazard to you.

They wear black and white, to signify that truth and lies are black and white, with no grey area offered. They are also the people who smoke the most, you think it’s because of the stress that they endure.

“Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation.”

Your home, you’ve grown up in this faction for sixteen years, and you’ve been selfishly debating whether or not you’ll stay. In Abnegation, you’re supposed to forget yourself, but all it’s done is magnify the things you hate the most about it.

If you made an effort and stayed, you might be able to change that thought. You just have to give it a chance. You have to give Reed a second chance.

“And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless.”

Dauntless is dressed in solid black, tight-fitting clothes. They have piercings, brightly-colored hair and tattoos. They’re loud, and reckless, which makes them the complete opposite of Abnegation. If you were to give your life away today and go to them, you’d flip your world upside-down.

Not to mention how hard their initiation is, going there is much more of a risk than trying to stay here and fix everything broken. At least you know how to make things work in Abnegation, there’s not even a guarantee that you’ll make it past Dauntless initiation.

“Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for decades. Each faction is important, as they contribute to a different sector of society. The Abnegation gives us selfless leaders in our government. Candor has provided us with trustworthy leaders in law. Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers and outstanding technology. Amity has given us understanding counselors and caretakers. Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both inside and outside of the walls.

“But the possibilities of each faction do not end there. We give one another more support than we can put into words. In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life.” Haymitch pauses, “A life without factions, is a life we would not survive in.”

The last sentence is an attack on the factionless, who are supposed to be savages. You can see where they’re all coming from, even though for a while you didn’t. You’ve seen what the factionless can do first-hand, how they killed your father in an act of kindness. And now they’re hiding a murderer, refusing to give him up.

Without them, though, the city would not be clean and well-functioning. They’re the janitors, the garbage truck drivers, the construction workers, and more. They help your society in ways that you can’t even think of.

It might be time for you to finally let the grudge go. It might have only been a few years ago, but all of them can’t be bad, right? If that were the case, then they’d be just as awful as everyone says they are. Yet, the Abnegation continues to feed them, and clothe them, and volunteer over them to give them better living situations.

If you stay in Abnegation, this is a concept that you have to accept.

“This day marks a happy occasion, in which we receive our new initiatives, who will work with us toward a better society, and a better world.” Haymitch finishes, allowing loud applause to come from your families.

He reads the names one at a time. A sixteen year-old will step out of their place in the line and walk toward the middle of the circles. This is where five metal bowls lay, each one having an element that represents a faction. For Abnegation, there are grey stones, Amity has soil, Candor has broken glass, Dauntless has lit coals, and Erudite has water.

For a while, no one switches factions, and you can’t blame them, to be the first to do it must be nerve-wrecking. Then the streak breaks, when an Erudite girl transfers to Candor. The Erudite section isn’t happy, casting glares towards Candor, but Candor gives her smiles and nods on her way behind their section.

You think it’s funny that the two factions don’t realize how similar they are. Candor and Erudite both find ways to disturb the peace. In a way, telling the truth and striving for knowledge at any cost is the same. You wouldn’t be surprised if you saw them swap many initiates.

Still, with the girl transferring, it means that she’ll eventually be seen as a traitor to Erudite. It doesn’t make sense, since you said so yourself, you aren’t actual members of the faction that you come from. It doesn’t keep the factions from being territorial over the teenagers that they thought would be theirs, though.

With the Erudite girl being the first to switch, it gives others the courage to do the same. Each faction welcomes new faces and fresh blood, and the initiates seem to be happy with their decision once it’s over with. With the way they sigh and smile, it’s like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

Before you realize, the Candor boy next to you is being called to the middle of the room. You grit your teeth, allowing the tight feeling to grow in your throat. You have to take deep breaths if you want to stay calm. You don’t need to clam up down there, you need to have one fluid motion when you choose if you go or stay.

The Candor boy cuts his hand, and holds it over Erudite’s water. Haymitch gives him a brief look, allowing him to clear the middle of the room before reading the next name, yours.

“(Y/n) Gallows.”

His eyes land on you now, you take in a deep breath before heading down the steps one at a time. You know that Reed’s eyes are on you, anticipating your next move. The last time the two of you went to a Choosing Ceremony, your brother had ended up transferring to Amity. Reed has to be wondering if you’ll be a repeat of him.

If you do, you’ll leave him all alone.

You’re not sure if you can do that, even after everything that happened between you two, and between you and Abnegation. You might have lost everything you have here, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be able to build it up again. You can make Abnegation how you want it to be, only if you stay.

You stop in front of the metal bowls, eyes sweeping over the table. The elements inside of the bowls are all stained in some way by now. Erudite’s water is pink, Candor’s glass shows red, Abnegation’s stones have droplets of blood littering them like freckles. The only two unbothered will be Dauntless and Amity.

Haymitch offers you the knife, it will only be used once, and it will only be used by you. He gives you a curt nod, and you’re left to decide by yourself. The knife you hold in your hand now is nowhere near as heavy as the one you held in the aptitude test. This one is lighter, and sharper.

You bring the blade to your palm, carefully dragging it across. It stings badly, and you grit your teeth to combat the tears in the corner of your eyes. The blood springs to life outside of your body, showing the rich color. You stare at it for a second as you shift your body to the left, where Abnegation and Dauntless lie.

You are not cut out for Amity, you are too mean. You are not cut out for Candor, you are a liar. And you are too smart for Erudite to have.

The blood needs time to pool, giving you more time to think.

If you leave Abnegation today, you will leave Reed alone with Alyssum. Alyssum will have no older sister, Reed will have no one to take care of her. She’ll grow up the same way you did, in silence without a single mention of Mox. This time, you’ll be added to the list.

If you leave Abnegation today, you will no longer have the comfort of knowing that you’ll be able to pass initiation. Dauntless is not Abnegation, their initiation process could be living hell. While on the other hand, you could volunteer for thirty days and officially call yourself a member after Initiation Day. There will be no fear at night.

If you leave Abnegation, you will leave everyone you know behind. People that you could rely on in hard times. You will have to learn new faces, names and mannerisms. You won’t get to meet people who knew your parents, already offering up stories about them without you asking. No one will know where you came from.

The only problem with staying in Abnegation, is that you run the risk of losing your best friend. Finnick hates it here, he always has. He doesn’t fit in, he fights, and you’ve watched him do it. He’s been waiting years for the Choosing Ceremony just so that he can switch factions and find a place better for him.

However, that’s the only downfall you’re seeing with staying.

You know that Abnegation isn’t perfect, that there are many issues you have with the faction, but all of them can be fixed if you stay. All of them can be fixed with time, especially the ones concerning Reed. If you go, though, none of it will be possible, and you risk losing what relationship you have left with him.

You have to remember that you have the aptitude to stay. You’re not an outcast, not in Abnegation.

You love Finnick, you really do, he’s just not enough.

You hold your hand over the Abnegation stones, and tip your hand over, allowing your blood to join the rest. A smile comes over your face as you turn to Abnegation, eyes locking with Reed, who gives you a small smile in return. He bounces Alyssum a few times on his knee.

On your way up to stand behind your home faction, you earn a few approving nods. You slip your hands into your pockets, staring ahead at the center of the room. You know for a fact that your hand is still bleeding, there’s not much you can do to fix it, is the thing. You could always wipe it on your shirt, but that would draw attention to you.

The Ceremony continues on, not a lot of people deciding to join Abnegation. It has to be the fault of Erudite, normally Abnegation has a healthy group that they train each year. With every person that leaves the line, the closer Finnick’s turn draws.

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling nervous for him.

“Finnick Odair.” Haymitch calls.

Finnick leaves his place in line, heading down the stairs fluidly. Haymitch hands the knife over to him, gives him a nod, and then observes. Finnick turns to the Abnegation and Dauntless bowls on his left, which is no surprise to you. You can already see him in Dauntless black.

He lifts the knife, drags the silver blade across his hand, and patiently waits for the blood to build up. To anyone else, this might look like he’s stalling, to you it seems like he’s trying to make it as excruciating as possible before he transfers. Abnegation is supposed to be a good faction, which is why hardly anyone ever leaves. If he builds up suspense, it’ll make the news a little harder to bear.

You already know what’s coming, though.

Finnick swallows, and then moves his cupped hand over Abnegation.

You hold your breath.

He tilts his hand, allowing the liquid to run down his skin and drop onto the stones below.

What is he thinking?

Finnick turns around, injured hand diving into his pocket in an effort to hide the mess he’s made. You begin to feel lightheaded, so you’re forced to let out the air you were holding. Without so much of a glance at you, he stops to your right.

Your eyebrows draw in, mouth open slightly when you reach out to touch his arm to catch his attention. It works, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shake your head at him, because you don’t understand. He hates it here, why would he want to stay? Why didn’t he take his chance to leave?

He doesn’t speak, only gives you a gentle smile before turning back to the Choosing Ceremony.

—

—

As you expected, Abnegation initiation didn’t even come close to being hard. Volunteering for thirty days is the equivalent to walking in a park. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that you wouldn’t make it through. You would have had to make an effort to fail, which says a lot about the program.

It wasn’t easy in the beginning, you won’t lie. You were more used to small acts of kindness, by giving up your seat on the bus and making dinner even when it wasn’t your turn. That was not the case when it came to the actual initiation, though. You’ve spent hours in the sun, feeding the factionless. You’ve labored in the kitchen in order to fill a quota for food that needed to be handed out. And you’ve filled in jobs that haven’t been taken by the factionless, and so much more.

There were a couple points in time where you were sure that Finnick was going to burst the bubble that he had worked so hard to form. It only furthered the idea that Finnick was not cut out for Abnegation, and he had only stayed because he wanted to be around you. But then he’d bounce back, and you’d be unsure about it again.

You two made it though. The journey was far from easy, yet the two of you sit side by side on the bench in the initiation room. You have your hands in your lap, Finnick has his placed on each side to him, leaning forward slightly. To your right is a transfer initiate, Verda, who didn’t have any problem with fitting in.

In front of you are a few of the leaders of Dauntless, one of them being Naida’s husband, Amon. For the Abnegation-born initiates, like you and Finnick and a few others, your families are also gathered together, behind the leaders. They’re all smiling, excited for you.

The oldest leader that Abnegation has, clears his throat, looking over the bench. This year, no one had failed initiation, which means that all of you are basically touching shoulders because the bench isn’t big enough. They would add another one, if it weren’t for the fact that the bench has been here for a long time. The new bench wouldn’t have the same wear and tear as the rest.

“I will be my undoing, if I become my obsession,” the man starts. It’s the Abnegation manifesto, part of the initiation ceremony, “I will forget the ones I love, if I do not serve them. I will war with others, if I refuse to see them. Therefore I choose to turn away from my reflection, to not rely on myself, but on my brothers and sisters. To project always outward until I disappear.”

There are a few people who mutter, “And only God remains.” after the final sentence. It’s an optional sentence, mostly spoken by the religious members of Abnegation. It’s not a requirement by any means.

The leader that had been reciting, gives you all a gentle smile, “Congratulations initiates, tomorrow you can officially call yourselves members.”

No one responds at first, not even the ones that were born here. They must not have older siblings that live here, because silence is not the answer. You know for a fact that Finnick has a younger brother.

“Thank you.” you say, breaking the silence.

“Thank you.” Finnick breathes.

One by one, some overlapping others, each of you thank him.

After that, your least favorite part comes.

During Reed’s Abnegation initiation, there were three parts to it. The first, is to read the Abnegation manifesto, which is about forgetting yourself and knowing the dangers of selfishness. The second, is getting your feet washed by the older members to symbolize leaving a life of selfishness behind. And the third is to then share a dinner with everyone in attendance, serving the person to your left.

Obviously you can understand why they will wash your feet, but it’s not exactly a comfortable situation. If you were born in Abnegation, you’ll typically get your parents--and in your case, since they’re not here, you will be getting Reed--or if you transferred, you get a leader or a volunteer instead.

If you could back out, you would. The last thing you want is for Reed to wash your feet, especially since your relationship isn’t exactly healed just yet. You’re on the road to getting there, but there is a long way to go still.

Still, you watch as parents, siblings, leaders and volunteers alike bring out glass bowls, placing them at your feet. Finnick gives you a look, face twisting. You’ve already told him that it was going to happen, so he could prepare himself. He must’ve forgotten, because you’ve been having nightmares of this situation this past week.

Reed gets on his knees in front of you, pouring the water into the bowl. He sits back, and then holds a hand out for your foot. You give him a polite smile, allowing him to get it over with. For Finnick, his father sits in front of him, taking his time washing Finnick’s feet.

Finnick looks extremely uncomfortable, stuck between smiling and staring at his father with a straight face.

Finally, your feet are patted dry with a white towel, and Reed gets up from where he was sitting. Others follow at a steady pace, disposing of their water and washing their hands.

Then it’s finally time for dinner.

You get up from where you sit on the bench, looking at Finnick with a funny smile. His face is twisted, lips pursed as he gets up from his spot. He closes his eyes for a long moment, shakes his head, and the two of you move on to find a free bathroom to wash your hands, shoeless.

Verda, Clay, Moises and a few others follow you two, since you seem to know what you’re doing. They’re right, because you lead them to the gendered bathrooms. They split, going through the swinging doors. You’re about to head into the girls bathroom, thanking Verda for holding open the door, until Finnick asks for you to stay back.

“Oh, sure.” you nod at him, looking at Verda, “I’ll be inside in a moment.”

She gives you a smile, the door sweeps shut behind her.

You raise your eyebrows at Finnick, giving him a smile, “What’s up?”

He makes a face, and then sighs it out, “I want to thank you for sticking with me during initiation. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it through.”

“It’s really no problem, Finnick.” you laugh, “I can’t leave you behind, even if I wanted to.”

Finnick cracks a smile, and then it fades. He’s got more on his mind.

“What is it?” you ask, “Are you nervous for dinner?”

“No, dinner will be easy.” he waves it off, “It’s something else.”

He doesn’t elaborate.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shrugs.

You shake your head, settling for a tilt, “I’m not a mindreader, Finnick.”

“I know, it’s just…” he scratches the back of his neck, eyebrows drawing in. He’s not looking at you anymore, he’s staring at the floor, “I like you.”

You stare at him, blinking. When there’s not an immediate response, he finally looks up to your face, scanning for a sense of direction. His face begins to turn red, his ears too.

He has to be kidding.

“You don’t like me back, okay.” he breathes, straightening to his full height, “That’s good to know.”

“No,” you say, still staring at him. You don’t think he’s kidding anymore, “No, that’s not it.”

Finnick lightens up, “It isn’t?”

You have spent this whole month listening to Verda talk about how cute Finnick is. It started off fine, it didn’t really bother you because you couldn’t see what she was talking about. In Abnegation, physical affection is a powerful thing, which is why it’s so rare, and no one dates during school. Relationships typically form after a long period of time, and after initiation.

But after listening to her talk about him, day in and day out, he was forced to the front of your mind. Not to mention her constant question of whether or not the two of you were dating, a question you tried to shut down. She was so insistent over it, how he would do things for you. As if the entire Abnegation motto isn’t to be selfless and help your neighbor if they need it.

Unfortunately, she began to be right when he would do things for you, that he wouldn’t do for others. Verda wanted to show you that it wasn’t normal, that he was going out of his way for you.

It took everything in your power not to strangle her in her sleep, when she simply stated that he had feelings for you, and it’s the same for you. You’re not sure what Verda did for most of her life in Amity, but some of that stuff doesn’t translate into Abnegation. And with her pointing out your feelings for Finnick, the thoughts of you two together began to crawl.

You thought that it was impossible, though. Finnick has never expressed a liking for any guy or girl. There was a greater chance that he wanted to be alone or with someone else, than you.

Yet here he is. Verda was right.

“I like you too.” you say, the relief on his face is immediate.

“Really?” he begins slouching again, “You’re not just saying that?”

“Really.” you laugh, pressing the heel of your hand to your forehead.

He laughs too, his head is back to look at the ceiling.

This is it. You were right to stay in Abnegation, right to think that you could fix what had happened here. You can’t help yourself when you reach for Finnick’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He locks eyes with you, squeezing right back.

This is the first day of the rest of your life.

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@justthatfangirloverthere / @neenieweenie / @amixedwitch / @fnnshelbys / @vxntae / @liaaacantwrite / @terezasworld /

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair anteric #anteric aleatory #aleatory #anteric

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starxscream · 3 years

Text

Invideo: Hate

[Hazard]

Heavy footsteps echo through the quiet hallways of the run down apartment complex you called home. You passed by a couple of the other tenants, but they barely spared a glance your way- if at all. Despite being such a hulking figure, most tended to ignore you, which you never could decide if that was a good or bad thing. Well, it made work easier at the very least.

Creeaaaak.

You should really get this door fixed.

Shutting the noisy door behind you, you look around your pathetically small and empty apartment. What little amenities you had were old and rusted, barely functional yet served their purpose. You never needed much after all.

You didn’t deserve much better either.

Knowing that this is where you belonged.

You figured that out so very long ago.

Your heavy boots thud on the ground, tail dragging behind you on the floor as you take step after step to the bedroom. Your fingers peel off your gloves, work the zipper on your coat, slowly peeling away layer after layer after layer. Jagged strands of hair flew out in a mess as you pulled off your tight hood. The grime of your work sticking to only your clothes, but you were still clean.

Clean of the grime, but not of the sin.

Stripped off all the heavy adornments you wore, leaving behind only your pair of pants, you had some modesty after all, you stared down at the heap as your clawed fingers pressed on the heavy mask that you always wore.

Krrsskk…

You could hear yourself breath, filtered through the heavy piece of equipment. No one knew what you looked like thanks to it, and you never wanted them to, finding a slight comfort in anonymity. In being overlooked.

A sigh.

Most assumed you wore it because of the nature of your job. Dealing with dead bodies, chemicals, cleaning supplies, all of that would be terror on the senses; and sure, while it did make the job nicer that was not the real reason.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

Adept claws work the straps open, loosening them enough so the mask falls from your face. The “fresh” mildewy scented air of your apartment floods your nostrils, a raspy tongue sweeping across your cracked lips. Jagged fangs stuck out from your mouth, a drip of substance running down one before falling to the ground.

SsssSHHHKKK…

The wood beneath it sizzles for a moment, you turn your head to stare down at the new divot in your floor, to match all the rest.

No, it wasn’t for your safety that you wore this mask.

It was for everyone else’s.

Using the back of your scaly hand, you wipe away any remnants of venom still on your lips, setting aside the mask on your bed and picking the heap of clothes back up. Casually you make your way to your washer, stuffing the clothes inside and putting in some soap. If anything stained you would clean it out after the initial wash. After doing this for so long you knew how to get blood out of anything.

It took a couple tries, and a couple thumps, to get the washer running. A long sigh escapes your lips once it finally does.

That needs to be replaced too…

But you won’t, until it breaks entirely.

You needed to wash up, now, another part of your routine. Needing to get it over with quickly before you were called into another job. Your occupation was a sleepless one, always needing to be ready at the drop of a hat, but you were fine with that. Someone had to do it.

Yet, despite knowing that, your footsteps are still slow and dull, practically dragging yourself to the busted up bathroom in your shoddy apartment. It was much too small for someone of your size, but somehow you made the cramped space work, even if it was a little uncomfortable. As you loom in front of the stained porcelain sink, you plug the drain and fill it with water. The rushing noise from the faucet sounded more like a rattle, the faucet shaking angrily and threatening to break off of its hinges, but it was always like that. By now you had gotten used to it.

Once the sink is full, you turn off the faucet but a constant leaking plop falls every so often. Your water bill was a mess thanks to the constant leak, but the apartment was cheap enough that it wasn’t a huge deal. As run down as your ‘home’ was, you were fine with it, quirks you called it. Broken and run down just like you.

Plip

Plop

Plip

Plop

The leaky droplets continued to fall as you stood over the sink, resting your hands on either side of the porcelain. Tentatively you gaze into the dusty mirror overhanging the pool of water and are greeted with the same face you see everytime you look into the mirror.

Dark sunken eyes stare back, a deep hollow void of emptiness that looked as if they had not shone in years. Hair that was jagged and course, the strands burnt and torn away to never grow back properly. A body of hard scales and old scars that littered all around your large and hulking frame. A neck that had it worst of all, ugly deep scarring that tore away at your vocal cords, never to speak again. Claws trace at your throat for a brief moment, trying to think if you could even remember what your voice sounded like before the knife slashed into it over and over again.

You can’t.

You haven’t been able to for a long time.

You wish you could.

Though you could never bring yourself to completely hate the person who did this to you. Ordered his men to take away your voice as a punishment for failure. Knowing that you would never be good enough, yet still pushed to your limits to be nothing but the best. It was a living hell, but one that you asked for.

Hate was such a strong word anyways.

Reserved for only the worst of the worst, the unforgivable dregs of society that could never be redeemed no matter how hard they try.

Splash.

You splash water onto your face. Droplets run down your scales, dripping onto your chest.

You got what you deserved.

Splash.

You filthy.

Splash.

Good for nothing.

Splash.

LIAR.

Splash.

MURDERER.

SPLASH.

B E T R A Y E R.

C R A C K

The sink cracks and bursts into pieces thanks to your hands slamming into it over and over again. The porcelain explodes and cuts into your hands, falling into pieces onto the ground, the water splashing and hitting the ground leaving a soaked and disgusting mess on the ground. Droplets of greenish red slide from your palms, bleeding into the clear water and blending together into a disgusting murk.

You try to take a step back, but only hit the wall, sliding down until you were a slumped pile on the floor, water seeping into your pants. Ignoring the blood on your hands, it wouldn’t be the first time, you rest your face into your palms and just sit there. Head pounding, heart hurting, hatred blooming.

Hate was such a strong strong word.

Reserved only for the worst of the worst.

And the single worst person that you undoubtedly hated more than anyone else in the world…

...Was yourself.

#sugars sweet treats #cadenza #hazard #blood tw #repost cuz i deleted the old post bc i was insecure </3 #this is still one of my favs tho

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darriness · 4 years

Text

Klaine Fic - Care Part 5

Author: darriness

Word Count: 2954

Summary: The first time Kurt feeds from Blaine

Author’s Note: Happy Halloween! This part is longer, and darker, than the four parts before it so potentially read with some caution! There is nothing super graphic but if you are interested in more specific warnings before you read please message me (I don’t want to put them here because I don’t want to ‘spoil’ anything). Just keep in mind that Kurt and Blaine are a vampire and werewolf respectively in this verse so if anything that comes with that is not your thing or bothers you, then maybe this story isn’t for you <3

As of now, I have no immediate plans to continue this story beyond this BUT I won't say I'll never come back to it. It was fun to explore this trope myself (I've always been fascinated with vampires and werewolves) and who knows what the future will bring. Enjoy and be safe in whatever you plan to do this Halloween :)

Link to Part 1

Link to Part 2

Link to Part 3

Link to Part 4

AO3 Link

The first time Kurt kills someone, he and Blaine break up for a month.

“You don’t understand! I can’t trust myself!” Kurt had yelled the night it happened, “We’re done!” He’d screamed at a bewildered (and blindsided) Blaine.

Blaine had blinked and picked his jaw up from where it hung like a broken glove compartment, “What...what are you talking about?” He’d stuttered, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’re over!” Kurt had screamed. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it that night but Blaine still hadn’t really understood.

“But why?” Blaine had asked, desperation creeping into his voice, “Because you accidentally killed someone?” Kurt had flinched at the words. Blaine had moved closer, reaching out to grab Kurt’s hand, but Kurt had pulled away.

“You have to go. I could hurt you next...or worse.” Kurt had pulled his arms around his body and Blaine ached to wrap him in his own arms instead.

“You won’t hurt me.” Blaine had whispered.

Kurt had shook his head, “You don’t know that. We have to end this. I can’t stay with you if it means I’ll hurt you.”

Nothing Blaine said had changed Kurt’s mind. He’d been through an entire catalog of emotions since Kurt had called him over in a frenzy and he had finally settled on...nothingness. An empty void was opening up inside and Blaine didn’t know what to do about it.

“Please don’t do this.” Blaine had whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

Kurt had put his head in his hands, “Go.” He’d whispered. When Blaine didn’t move, Kurt looked up with a face Blaine had never seen. His pupils had completely taken over his irises and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot - the red veins around his pupils seemed to pulse - and he bared pointed canine teeth as he growled, “Go!”

Blaine had stumbled backwards, not out of fear of what Kurt might do to him but out of astonishment that Kurt so clearly didn’t want him there...or at all. Nothing he could say was going to change Kurt’s mind and their relationship was over.

Blaine spends most of the month after as a wolf. He thinks less as a wolf. Well, maybe not less, but differently. As a wolf he doesn’t have to remember the feeling of emptiness that had settled in after he’d left Kurt’s house that night. He doesn’t have to deal with people’s reactions and inevitable pity about their breakup. He doesn’t have to think about the fact that their two year relationship, admittedly a tiny blip in the supernatural world, will stay with him for as long as he lives.

Which promises to be a very, very long time.

Sometimes, he hates being supernatural. He’s been a werewolf since his eighteenth birthday three years ago (a ‘fun’ genetic surprise none of his family felt he needed to know about earlier) and while he celebrated his twenty-first birthday a few months ago, he hasn’t actually physically aged much beyond eighteen. He’s not entirely sure why, reliable information on werewolves is hard to come by, but he knows that while he won’t live for eternity like a vampire, his life span is significantly longer than a humans. The prevailing theory is werewolves age physically one year for every ten human years. Blaine will be twenty-eight before his body makes it to nineteen. And he’ll be much, much older than that before his heart gets over Kurt.

But as a wolf, he doesn’t have to think about any of that. He can think about hunting, and finding warm sun to sleep in, and how to get his tail in his mouth (human Blaine would be horrified by that specific behavior, wolf Blaine is simply determined to make it happen).

There’s a general melancholy to his time in the woods but his wolf brain isn’t able to figure out why, so it continually tries to shake it off. It’s got no time for melancholy when there is a whole world (or at least a whole forest) to explore.

Blaine trots back to his clothes one night, intent on curling up by them to sleep, when a strange buzzing sound fills the forest around him. Blaine’s head tilts and he quiets his pants (a product of his bunny hunt a few minutes ago) to listen. It’s not a usual forest sound and his wolf brain tries to place it.

He narrows his search down to his pile of clothes and uses his snout to curiously push the fabric aside. On the ground under his jeans is his phone, buzzing and lighting up the immediate area as it glows. Blaine’s head tilts once again as he watches it buzz. His wolf brain doesn’t know what it is or what to do about it but is curious enough to watch it happen.

Eventually, his phone goes dark and silent and Blaine snorts at the strange contraption. He’s about to turn to lie down when his phone lights up again. This time Blaine’s snort is of irritation. What is this thing and why is it disrupting his peaceful evening?

When his phone goes silent again and then begins to light up again immediately afterwards, Blaine barks at it before figuring, in order to make it stop, he’ll have to transform back to human. He doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t particularly want to deal with this thing buzzing all night.

The process of transformation leaves him panting on the ground for a while as it always does. He takes deep breaths as his body settles and he tries to remember why he did this in the first place. The connection between his wolf and human self is always a little jumbled immediately after transformation.

The buzzing, his brain supplies after a few minutes. Blaine shakes his head. Not buzzing, his phone.

He pulls himself up and makes his way slowly toward his phone on the ground. His body hurts but it’s nothing compared to the ache in his chest. Now that he’s human all the feelings he’s been hiding from are rearing their ugly head.

The ache only intensifies when he sees who has been calling.

Burt Hummel - Missed Call x3

Blaine’s brow furrows. Why would Kurt’s dad be calling him?

He doesn’t have time to think about it too hard when his phone starts to buzz in his hand. Caller ID says it’s Burt calling again. Blaine, cautiously, answers the call, “Hello?” He asks.

“Christ Blaine - took ya long enough!” Burt hollers over the phone. Blaine’s not sure if he’s yelling because he’s mad at Blaine for missing his calls or because he has to yell over the noise on his end of the line. It sounds like Burt is at a demolition site - crashing, banging, shattering. Those are the words Blaine would use to describe it anyway.

“Burt?” Blaine asks, “What’s going…”

He doesn’t get to finish his question when a scream echoes from Burt’s end of the line. There’s a pause in the demolition noise for it to happen and Blaine’s heart immediately leaps into his throat.

Kurt.

“Blaine, you’ve gotta come.” Burt says over the line. He sounds out of breath.

“What’s going on?” Blaine asks.

“It’s Kurt.” Burt offers, needlessly, “Just...come. Please.”

Blaine doesn’t even have to think about it, “I’ll be right there.”

-- -- --

He makes it to Kurt’s in record time. Over their two years together he had made the trek from the forest to Kurt’s many times after he transformed. This feels different from all those times.

Burt opens the door before Blaine can even knock. The house behind him is quiet but Blaine isn’t sure that’s a good thing considering the sounds he’d heard over the phone.

“Come in.” Burt says, gesturing the younger man inside.

When they’re in the front hallway, Burt puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder with a heavy sigh. Blaine holds back the wince the action tries to pull from him. Not only has it been a while since he’s felt human contact, his body is still aching after his transformation.

“Thank you for coming.” Burt says.

Blaine looks up at him in confusion, “What’s going on?” He feels like he’s asked that a lot tonight, “Is Kurt hurt?”

Burt sighs again and looks off toward the stairs to the second floor, briefly, before looking back at Blaine, “He’s not doing well.” Is all Burt says.

Blaine’s about to say something along the lines of ‘No shit’ or ‘That makes two of us’ but Kurt screams from the second floor. Both Burt and Blaine turn, sharply, toward the sound and Blaine goes toward it without thinking. It’s only Burt’s hand on his shoulder that keeps him in place.

Blaine turns to Burt with an incredulous look and Burt grimaces, “He’s...hungry.” Burt says. Blaine’s brows furrow, “He hasn’t fed since the night you two broke up.” Burt explains.

Blaine’s eyes widen. Apart from actually BEING a vampire, Blaine knows more than most about how vampires work. He knows that Kurt stopped aging permanently when he was bitten just after his eighteenth birthday. He knows that as long as Kurt keeps a healthy diet of blood, his body functions very similarly to that of a human’s.

He knows that without a healthy diet of blood Kurt’s body will start to shut down.

“How could you let this happen?” Blaine asks Burt, dumbfounded.

Burt’s eyes narrow, briefly, at the accusation. If Blaine hadn’t been fresh from a transformation and a floor away from a hurting Kurt, he would NEVER have spoken to Burt in such a manner. But Blaine is both of those things and he feels like Burt is to blame for at least the latter.

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” Burt asks, “I have tried everything. I’ve even offered my own blood. Nothing has worked.”

Blaine knows that, apart from right after becoming a vampire and that night a month ago when he took the man’s life, Kurt subsists exclusively on animal blood. The vegetarian diet, as Kurt had coined it, is enough to get the job done but the draw of human blood is always there. It tempts him like some sort of juicy steak. Refusing Burt’s blood must have been a Herculean effort.

“I was hoping you could help.” Burt says.

Blaine’s not sure what help he could possibly be but he nods. He goes to head up the stairs again but Burt’s hand on his shoulder stops him once more.

“Just,” Burt starts, “remember, he’s not himself right now.”

Blaine’s sure Burt would like to continue explaining, but Blaine just nods and a beat later Burt’s hand drops from his shoulder, allowing Blaine to finally make his way up the stairs.

When he gets to the second floor he can hear sounds he didn’t notice downstairs. He hears scrambling from behind Kurt’s closed bedroom door and a high pitched whine. He makes his way to the door and knocks.

“Go away, Dad!”

Kurt doesn’t even sound like himself - his voice scratchy and weak even as he yells. It sounds like he hasn’t spoken in months.

“Kurt.” Blaine says and all movement behind the closed door stops. Blaine sighs and leans his forehead and palms against the door, “Can I come in?”

He’s greeted with more silence and he actually wonders if Kurt passed out before he hears, “Blaine.”

His name sounds like it’s being strangled from Kurt’s throat and Blaine’s fingers flex on the wood door.

“Kurt, open the door, baby.” The endearment slips out before Blaine can realize he probably shouldn’t use it.

There’s silence again before the door slowly creeps open. When Kurt comes into view, Blaine sucks in a breath. He’s never seen Kurt look like this. He’s never seen anyone look like this.

Kurt’s skin is grey. His lips are the same colour as his face and are dry and cracking. The veins and arteries on his necks are purple and a stark contrast to the ashen skin around them. And his eyes. Blaine thinks Kurt’s eyes right now will be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. His irises are completely black, like they were the night he and Kurt broke up, but unlike that night the whites of his eyes are laced with purple and black veins. The purple bruises under his eyes are the only other colour on Kurt’s face. He looks positively terrifying.

Blaine blinks and shakes his head. This is still Kurt, his Kurt (even if Kurt doesn’t want him), and he’s here to help.

“Kurt.” He says again in a pained exhalation.

“What are you doing he…” Kurt cuts himself off before he can finish with a groan as he clenches a hand to his stomach.

Blaine’s muscles twitch as he shifts forward, trying to keep himself from going to Kurt. He’s fairly certain Kurt wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.

“Kurt, you need to feed.” Blaine says, needlessly.

Kurt groans again and turns away from the door, “Go away.” He moans.

“You’re killing yourself.” Blaine tries, “You need to feed.”

Kurt shakes his head as he grips his head in his hands, “Can’t.”

“Why not?” Blaine asks.

“Can’t.” Kurt says, again.

Blaine bites his lip as he watches Kurt pace his room. He notices for the first time that Kurt’s room is destroyed. The ‘demolition’ he heard over the phone was, in fact, Kurt tearing his room apart.

Blaine feels useless. He’s not sure why Burt thought he could help or why he agreed. Kurt doesn’t want him for anything. He’s of no help here.

Unless…

“Feed off me.” He blurts and suddenly Kurt’s terrifying eyes whip in his direction.

“Go. Away.” Kurt snarls.

Blaine shakes his head. He won’t leave this time. This time it’s Kurt’s life on the line, “No. You need to feed and I’m not leaving until you do. Either go hunting or feed from me.”

Blaine’s fairly certain Kurt couldn’t go hunting in his current state even if he wanted to. He’s too far gone, too weak, too hungry. There’s really only one way this is going to end.

Kurt growls in Blaine’s direction, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, “Leave me alone. I’m a monster. I shouldn’t be alive. Just let me die.”

Blaine feels a grip on his heart at Kurt’s broken words. He knows Kurt can’t actually die the way he currently seems to be trying to (his body will shut down but he won’t actually ‘die’), but knowing he wants to is enough to make Blaine want to cry.

Suddenly, Kurt lets out another scream as he doubles over in pain. Blaine is shaken from the emotional pain of hearing Kurt’s desires and into action.

He bangs a hand against Kurt doorframe, hearing it groan under the strain, “God damnit, Kurt!” He shouts, suddenly angry with desperation, “Stop it! Feed. From. Me!”

“No!” Kurt shouts.

Blaine’s frantic eyes flit around the room around Kurt as the other man lets out another scream that turns into a pained moan. Blaine’s eyes land on the twisted remains of the lamp that used to sit in the corner of the room. It’s bent and broken now but the light in the room almost seems to blink off the sharp point of metal Blaine’s eyes fixate on.

He moves toward it at lightning speed and, without thinking, drags his forearm along the metal. He groans at the sting of pain but as he looks down at his arm he can see the blood start to bubble up from the cut. When he looks back at Kurt, the other man’s eyes are locked on Blaine’s arm.

“Do it.” Blaine says.

Kurt’s lip twitches but he holds his ground. Blaine can see all of his muscles tense and he actually sways forward slightly, but he doesn’t advance.

“I want you to. I’m begging you to.” Blaine implores, holding out his arm, “You won’t hurt me.” He says even though he’s not entirely sure if that’s true. He’s never had a vampire feed from him. He’s not sure if it will physically hurt or even if he might actually die from it, but in this moment his only thought is saving Kurt. His own life seems almost insignificant in comparison.

“Please.” He begs again, his voice cracking.

Kurt’s lips shift around his teeth as he continues to stare at Blaine’s bloody arm before he slowly makes his way across the room. Blaine finds it amazing, considering how desperate and hungry Kurt must be, that he’s able to show such restraint but when he’s finally within reach of Blaine he takes Blaine’s arm almost reverently into his hands.

He hesitates then, looking up at Blaine’s face for the first time since Blaine cut himself. Blaine nods, “Do it. You won’t hurt me.”

It doesn’t hurt. Maybe that’s because Blaine had already been cut but instead of pain there is simply a tugging feeling. He alternates between watching his arm and watching Kurt’s face. It only takes a moment before Kurt’s skin starts to return to a more normal colour and Blaine feels the fist around his heart loosen at the sight.

He’s not sure how long Kurt feeds but eventually the tugging sensation disappears and he’s got an armful of Kurt. Kurt collapses against him, sobbing into his neck and clutching at his back.

Blaine brings his arms up and wraps them around Kurt’s neck. He’s forearm is still bleeding slightly but he doesn’t even notice as he holds on to Kurt for all he’s worth.

He’s not sure what tomorrow will bring but he’s here with Kurt right now and that’s what he’s going to focus on.

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #klainetober #my loves #my stuff #care

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superrman · 4 years

Text

Grey

Summery: TK got off the guy and fell to the side, punching a grown man took a lot out of a guy. This was not a pretty scene. He was next to an unconscious guy that he had just beaten the crap out of. His white t-shirt was covered in blood, his jeans had ripped, he could feel the black eye starting and his knuckles were bloodied.

“Maybe Austin really is a small town.”

The look on Carlos’s face, not ideal TK thought.

“TK….Fuck.” Normally TK would have loved those two words coming out of Carlos’s mouth, but currently Carlos was pointing his gun at him, looking like he wanted to punch him and hug him at the same time.

“Just for the record you do look as hot as I thought holding a piece.” Okay now he looked mad only. TK was so screwed.

Tags: TK Strand/ Carlos Reyes Recreational Drug Use Angst Canon Compliant POV TK Strand Arrest Relapse

Word Count: 6295

A03 LINK

Grey.

A concept that most people don’t understand. Whenever TK tried to explain what he meant to non-users they all looked somewhat confused. It was weird to TK’s own ears. But that’s how he felt. All of the time, how he currently felt.

Austin just didn’t fit right. Everything about it made his skin itch.

Okay so blaming the city was a little lame but he wanted to blame something other than his own mind.

He had just responded to an email from Alex. That was fun. Alex made a bunch of excuses you were never around, I was lonely, you cared more about your job -- he was his father’s son after all. But that last line; I know you were using again.

TK couldn’t deny that one, and to be fair they were all right. He had zoned out of his relationship, and just like his Dad had taught him, he made a grand gesture to make up for it. Ignore your family for a few weeks, come back with a pizza night and brand-new video games. Emotionally check out for a couple months, family vacation time. So, TK had figured the same principle applied to Alex and there relationship, ignore him and not be around, a proposal would fix all of that. It didn’t.

TK wished there had been a good reason for his relapse but there wasn’t. It was just easy. He had run into an old friend from his heavy using days, and one thing led to another, and he figured it wouldn’t hurt. One night. It made things easier. And then there was a hard call, they had watched a child die. He couldn’t sleep that night. Why not one more night of indulging. He wasn’t going to spiral out this time. He had a job, he had to be functional. It was only at night, never at the job. Only on his days off. Oxy was a blessing because half the time no one even knew he was high. That feeling. Nothing compared. He didn’t feel Grey, he felt the opposite, a kind of nothing, but a nothing that didn’t hurt, not physically not emotionally, he was floating, he was at peace. The world wasn’t peaceful but being high was. The sad part was while he was at peace the rest of the people in his life weren’t.

Accidental overdoses are easy. Your body naturally builds a tolerance to the oxy, and to achieve that perfect high well you need more, that moment of serenity that TK craved, he had to take more. In the past he had overdosed twice. And that night, that night Alex left him, that night, the night that he remembered he was just a shell, well maybe he wanted a more permanent source of peace.

And now what - what was he supposed to do? Deny it, Alex knew him better than that. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t check out or start using again but so what? It didn’t excuse Alex cheating on him. Fuck. Couldn’t he have just left him, not replaced him? Why did he have to hurt him like that? Now what did he have?

Carlos.

God that guy was a mystery to TK. He was so hot, and kind, and sexy. Why was he trying to fix things between the two of them? They had started to go on dates. After the whole debacle at the police station, TK thought he had completely wrecked it. To be honest that was what he was aiming for. Completely destroying any chance of a relationship. No chance of getting hurt. Because if he was being honest, the whole situation had started to make him feel something. And TK had no desire for that.

He would hurt Carlos, or he’d make enough bad choices that Carlos would hurt him.

TK sighed, he had all of this excess energy. And nowhere to put it. His Dad was on shift, and now he was alone. Alone with his thoughts.

He wasn’t being drug tested for a while. And even then, it was easy to cheat the system. His Dad would watch him pee in a cup if he had to, but he didn’t know that you could easily pay off the med student in the lab to fake about the results. TK had done it more than once back in New York. He knew Texas would have broke college students too.

He could control it this time. Alex breaking his heart was an unexpected moment. But this time he would be careful. He wouldn’t hurt his Dad like that again.

So what if he got a little high at night. Who was he really hurting? He would keep it a secret.

Carlos didn’t know the signs. TK thought about sex high, god that was a nice feeling. But Carlos was a cop. He had to be extra careful. He would be.

He couldn’t buy a lot at a time, he had nowhere to hide the pills now, but that was better he could control it better that way.

TK knew that his Dad still checked around the house for pills.

Confident in his choices. This time he would hurt no one, because no one would ever know.

And that was how it started. One week passed. And TK enjoyed the sensation of getting away with the high. There was something so wrong, but it felt so right. No one knew.

It was the same feeling he had after he had gotten away with the barfight. The wrongness, the reckless edge. It made him feel alive. The fear of getting caught, it made him feel excited for what lay ahead. It was better than nothingness.

Sometimes TK was worried, his relationship with the crew was getting better. Marjan and Matteo were always cool with him. He and Judd had a weird bond. Paul was a cool dude. He was good during a night out. TK felt guilty he had indulged that night they went dancing. He figured if he got caught, he could play dumb and say he was spiked. He didn't have to worry, Carlos was too buzzed to notice anything. It was so reckless but so fun.

Should he be sober for the team? No, it wouldn’t hurt them, so why bother?

God, he loved getting away with the high.

It was helping with the ache.

Carlos was at work; he was complaining about his patrol schedule. It was so domestic. It made TK worry. They were getting comfortable.

His Dad was getting drinks with Michelle, so he was on his own. His Dad had assumed he was going to be with Carlos. He was still worried about leaving him on his own too often. TK couldn’t really blame him.

But guilt. Guilt was something TK was good at ignoring. The high was worth it.

There was a bar TK had found with a steady supply. The perks of working with first responders, you learn the spots for drugs because it was part of the job.

TK headed out, blasting his music, trying to quiet his mind. Ignore the guilt. No shame. He wasn’t wrong. No one was getting hurt.

It was a lively night as always. TK laughed at the clichéness of the bucking bronco mechanical bull. Sometimes Texas was really Texas. It was full of college aged kids having a good time. Ideal for a dealer.

TK saw his dealer. Crap he had a dealer already. No time to dwell on that.

He followed the guy into the men’s room, the only place without cameras, and easily exchanged the cash for a small bag of pills.

“You know I can give you a better deal for a higher quantity, right?” TK had yet to learn the man’s actual name. He only had his number.

“Thanks for the concern, but this is all I need for now.” The smirk on the guys face when he heard all I need rubbed TK the wrong way, he could see the judgment. But what could TK say? He would be back for more. Soon he’d have to buy more. It was the way things went. No, this time TK would keep it under control.

TK went to the bar and ordered a trusty mineral water.

Smiling at the bartender, TK made casual small talk. He easily swallowed the pills washing them down with the water. No one even noticed. He was good at hiding pills.

He turned his attention to the crowd. He had always been able to be personable when he tried. Casual small talk with the regulars.

Slowly the pills kicked in.

After a few, a guy who was clearly out of the closet began chatting TK up, offering to buy him a drink. For a minute TK was tempted. And that instant he thought of Carlos, shamed filled TK. He knew that even though Carlos and he were taking it slow, Carlos deserved better. Carlos deserved better.

God he was high in a bar flirting with random college students.

Shit.

TK walked out the back of the bar, to enjoy some fresh air while the sensation of drifting was coming in. He could take another pill. It should drown out the shame. It always did.

When TK walked out of the bar, he noticed a girl who had gone out for a smoke. She was being hassled by a guy. He was bigger than she was by a foot easily. He was taller than TK. Looked buffer too. More Judd’s height and weight.

TK smiled a little, a challenge, perfect. TK had always loved getting into fights. He loved the risk, the thrill. Bigger than him, no problem. More than one guy, that just added to the pleasure. TK had purposefully fought two guys that were drunk, bigger and angry. It was just something that made him feel alive. TK normally didn’t need a reason to fight, he could always think of one later, but tonight it was like a gift.

TK walked over just as he did, the girl yelled at the guy to leave or she’d start screaming.

The fear on her face, angered TK, in a reckless sort of way.

Without even thinking about the consequences, TK shoved the guy hard, getting in between the guy and the young girl.

“She said leave.” The other guy was clearly drunk, and not going to take no for an answer. TK was just fine with that.

“You are going to regret that you, little bitch!”

TK relished the fight. He made sure to give the girl enough room to get away. She ran into the bar, and TK, god, he felt good. The guy was bigger, but not a good fighter, he got in a decent punch, he was going to have a black eye, but otherwise TK was more skilled, once he had the man off balance, it was easy.

He was able to straddle the guy. He shouldn’t have thrown the next punch, but he did. The guy was down, but god TK didn’t care. There was something so cathartic about the violence. This guy got off on scaring girls, now he would remember what happened.

TK should have heard the sirens. But he didn’t. He was too focused on the fight.

“Police!” TK recognized that voice immediately.

TK got off the guy and fell to the side, punching a grown man took a lot out of a guy. This was not a pretty scene. He was next to an unconscious guy that he had just beaten the crap out of. His white t-shirt was covered in blood, his jeans had ripped, he could feel the black eye starting and his knuckles were bloodied.

TK leaned back to balance before he buckled, “Maybe Austin really is a small town.”

The look on Carlos’s face, not ideal TK thought.

“Just for the record you do look as hot as I thought holding a piece.” Okay now he looked mad only. TK was so screwed.

Behind him another police officer came up to check on the guy that TK had just finished beating the crap out of. “He’s going to need a hospital.”

Shit.

He should have stopped hitting the guy earlier.

“You can go with him; I have this guy.” Carlos said.

Not how TK imagined being handcuffed by Carlos. But it was about to happen. TK pulled himself off the floor, then put his hands in the air, he had been through this process enough times to know what to do. The other officer had his gun trained on him, while Carlos cuffed him. TK knew he’d be even more fucked when Carlos patted him down. It was procedure before putting him into the cop car. He would find the baggie of pills, he hadn’t tossed it. Rookie mistake. Shit.

Carlos grabbed his wrists, not all together too gentle. TK felt the cold metal clasp around his wrists. Carlos held his arm as he guided him to the car. TK knew he was talking but god, trying to focus was hard.

This would have been the point in the night when he would have taken another two pills to continue the high. Not looking likely now.

“Do you understand your rights as I have told you?” Carlos asked. Bring TK back down to earth.

“I understand.” TK mumbled. Letting out a small cough, he tried to cut the tension, “Not my first time getting arrested Officer.”

“This isn’t funny TK, that guy was out cold.” Carlos really had the disappointed mother hen voice down.

TK tried to shrug but it was hard to do in cuffs, while Carlos was still holding his arm in place.

“I have to check for weapons, do you have anything on you that I should know about?” Carlos asked, TK couldn’t place the emotion in his voice, and thankfully he wasn’t facing him.

“Nothing that does any damage to anyone else.” TK sighed; Carlos was patting him down anyways. Why should he have believed him?

TK hated this moment. He loved the feeling of Carlos’s hands on him normally, but now...it felt wrong.

Carlos turned him around. And checked his front jean pockets. He pulled out the bag. Christ TK wished he never saw that look. There was a flash of anger that was soon replaced with pity. TK looked down. God. He was monumentally screwed.

“TK…” Carlos groaned. He was shaking his head.

“What can I say officer, sorry I didn’t offer to share that was rude of me.” TK wished he could shut up. He was not helping the situation.

Carlos opened the door to the car and shoved TK into the seat. He could hear Carlos swearing under his breath. TK’s Spanish wasn’t good enough to understand.

But this was better, Carlos should be angry. He couldn’t help TK now. He might be over the edge this time. Assault and possession, he wasn’t that good at explain things away. He could justify the fight enough to potentially hold onto his job, but the pills nope, not this time. His Dad would kill him.

Shit Dad. He would have that stupid disappointed look on his face. This was going to break his heart. TK was sobering up way to fast. TK breathed in and leaned back, pushing his head as far back as he could. He’d have preferred covering his face with his hands but being handcuffed in the back of a police car was not ideal.

No way he would be able to pass a drug test now. Deep breaths. What the hell was he going to do?

“Are you going to say anything?” Carlos spit out, he could hear the frustration in his voice. What could he say to him that would make this make sense?

There was no decent explanation.

Sorry but I figured getting high when people weren’t around was fine, and then I started feeling guilty so I figured a fist fight would help, didn’t mean to get so out of hand but you know shit happens. He doubted Officer Reyes would understand.

Soon he’d be royally fucked, they were almost at the station.

TK sat up straight he could feel Carlos’s glare through the rear-view mirror.

TK tried shrugging again.

Carlos pulled over to the curb and turned off the engine, He turned around to face TK.

“You’ve fucked up your entire career tonight, you know that right?!” Carlos shouted. TK wished he didn’t see the concern behind the anger. Carlos was too good.

TK just swallowed hard. He knew he had fucked up. The problem with hanging of the edge of a cliff is that eventually you’ll fall off.

Carlos hit the bars separating them. TK didn’t expect that. And then he flung open his door, and within seconds he was being pulled out of the car. With one arm Carlos yanked him out, and TK was lucky Carlos was strong otherwise he’d have fallen over. Carlos slammed the car door behind him, and then he shoved him up against the car. TK’s wrists hit the handle, and then pushed into his back.

It was more than uncomfortable it hurt. TK was shocked, this had to be breaking protocol.

“What the hell?!” Carlos yelled again. Fury and pain was clear in his eyes.

“There isn’t a good explanation.” TK groaned; he did not want to have this conversation. He was already screwed enough. “I wanted to get high, so I did, and I wanted to get into a fight so I did. And now I am fucked.”

“Fucked doesn’t even begin to describe your situation.” Carlos spit out. “How the hell do you plan to get out of this huh?”

TK wanted to laugh for some reason. “Look the second you found those pills it was over. Potentially I could have explained away the fight, but no way around possession. I get that there is no way out now.”

Carlos looked confused. As if there was something that didn’t quite add up.

“Why haven’t you asked me to toss the pills?” There was something in the way that Carlos asked that, he sounded hurt.

“I wouldn’t ever ask you to do that.” TK was not that much of an asshole.

“Why not? Everyone always asks the arresting officer to look the other way. I have had people ask favours because I am Latino, or because I am gay or because they saw me on the street once, but you don’t even ask and we are… fuck I don’t know.”

Oh shit. TK didn’t know how he had managed to fuck up getting arrested even more, but somehow he did. Asking Carlos to help him like that wouldn’t be admitting they were something, it would be hurting Carlos to help himself, and he could not do that. “I can’t ask you to compromise your ethics because I am a fuck up!”

Carlos had to know that he was much better than TK, how could he ask him to do something that would make him feel like shit. TK would just mess up again. “I don’t deserve it.”

Carlos was looking at him in an odd way. “You really think that don’t you.”

TK didn’t want to look at Carlos anymore, he turned his head to the side. “I can’t take advantage of you; you are too good. You deserve better.”

Carlos’s hand touched TK’s cheek, it was so gentle, softly he guided TK’s face back towards him. “Why did you do this? Please help me understand.”

TK half smiled slightly for a moment. What could he say but; “because it felt good, okay.”

“A black eye and risking your entire career felt good?” God why was Carlos so damn beautiful, it made everything harder.

“I just...I...I have been using for a while. I am pretty good at being a functional junkie, never at work, but still.” TK wanted to shift his face back, but Carlos held his hand on his cheek forcing TK to look at the man.

“Anyways that guy was hassling a girl and I just...it pissed me off and I figured a fight was another thing to liven up the grey.” TK didn’t know the words to make him understand how fucked up he was, how much he itched, and craved for the high. “You shouldn’t help me, look at me, this is the real me, this is why I didn’t want you to get close to me.”

Carlos flinched. “How does someone so amazing, end up thinking so little of themselves?”

TK couldn’t look at that adoration in Carlos’s face. He closed his eyes. Wishing that he was anywhere but here.

“You run into burning buildings to help people, you see a friend in pain you go out of your way to cheer them up, you are kind and brave, how are you also this monumentally stupid.” Carlos moved his hand away from TK’s cheek, and moved it to his bicep. For a second TK thought perhaps Carlos wanted to shake him.

TK laughed. Brave. Being a firefighter meant everyone thought he was brave.

“What’s so funny?”

“I run into burning buildings cause it’s the best high you can get without pills, its reckless and it makes you feel alive, when I gave up pills the first time, I replaced one high with the other.” TK had never admitted that out loud. He had no real calling to be a firefighter. He just figured that it would be a good chance to be back in his Dad’s good books, and then he tasted the adrenaline, he lived for it.

“TK….” Carlos looked to be struggling to find the words. He had to realize there were no words.

“This is my fuck up, you don’t have to fix me Carlos, I am so sorry.” TK wished he could take tonight back. He really messed up, but no way in hell TK was going to let Carlos compromise his integrity for him. He was going to arrest him; he was going to turn the pills into evidence. Carlos was still close enough that TK leaned forward and kissed him, a gentle peck. An apology kiss. “You have to give the pills into evidence. And you are not allowed to feel guilty. I messed up not you.”

Carlos kissed him back, his kiss was angry and hard, and not what he expected. “You really love making things hard for me Tyler Kennedy.”

“I know I messed up but seriously with the full name, that was uncalled for.” TK tried to coax a laugh.

Carlos opened the door again, this time he put TK in the back gently.

He was forgiven. At least he hoped he was.

“Ever consider dating a convict?” TK figured what the hell, not like he had much more to lose tonight.

“Seriously TK?” Carlos groaned. “How can you be so calm?”

What could he say? As a professional fuck up, he always knew this day would come. He was afraid of only his Dad’s reaction. But he had time for that.

They pulled into the station. “This was not how you were supposed to meet my friends.” Carlos murmured into TK’s ear as he led him to booking. TK laughed at that.

“What can I say, at least I will be memorable.” TK tried to angle back to see Carlos’s face but it was hard with the cuffs.

When they entered the bull pen, TK’s heart stopped, his Dad was already there. Standing next to an older man, Shit Carlos must have radioed ahead when he had zoned out.

TK looked at the ground immediately, waves of shame radiating through him. He wished he was high now, it would at least make this easier to deal with.

The other man walked towards them.

“Sir.” Carlos said. He could hear the deference in his voice, this was a superior. Of course, probably because he was the son of a prominent fire chief, he wasn’t just messing up his career. Damn Dad, I am sorry, TK wanted to blurt out. How had things gotten out of control so fast?

“You’ve had quite the night, Son.” TK willed himself to look up, that was odd the man was smiling.

“Um, sir?” What was he supposed to yah, it was a great night?

“See the young woman you happened to defend was the daughter of Judge Reynolds, she had a restraining order out on that man you so thoroughly beat up, she told us the entire story.” The man clapped TK’s shoulder.

A judges daughter. A judge tight with what looked like the chief of police. This was too good to be true. Public officials looked out for one another, attacking one of them was an attack on them all. The cops would do anything it took to protect a judges daughter.

This wasn’t happening. Was this a get out of jail free card?

“Uncuff the boy, Reyes.” The man had a booming voice.

“Sir.” TK felt Carlos unlock the handcuffs, and soon his wrists were free.

“I don’t understand?” TK voiced. Carlos still could stop this. One mention of what he found on TK and boom, the good will would end because his father would put an end to it.

“Well Lucy, the young woman told us everything, how she went out for a smoke and Greg attacked her, and how you without any regard for yourself stepped up to defend her, and so obviously we won't be filling charges. I called your Dad here to take you home. I am sure Judge Reynolds and Lucy will want to thank you personally.”

TK saw his Dad beaming at him. He walked over. “I am proud of you son, but next time try and not knock the guy into next week, you gave him a concussion.”

“Sorry.” TK said sheepishly. “He was kind of bigger than me, it was hard to tell if he was down.”

Being an addict didn’t give you many valuable skills but being fast on your feet was one of the only ones. TK went along with the whole story.

"Ehhh" The other officer laughed. "Your boy was just doing what was necessary."

“So, no other charges?” TK asked, it was a silent question to Carlos, just say it Carlos. Even now TK wouldn’t blame Carlos, he knew what following the law, being an honest cop meant to Carlos.

His Dad looked at him a little weird. “Don’t worry kid they checked with the bartender she confirmed you were just drinking mineral water. Nothing to clear up. Let’s take you home and get some ice on that eye.”

TK couldn’t believe his luck. This was not happening.

His Dad didn’t seem to suspect a thing. He chatted with him on the way home. TK lied easily saying he was bored, and he heard about the mechanical bull, it sounded funny. His Dad didn’t even blink, and of course since he had confirmation that he had stayed sober at the bar, TK knew he was just proud he had stepped up to protect someone else.

“I think I am going to lie down now Dad; I am sore as shit.” TK mumbled.

When he entered his room, TK saw his phone, Carlos wanted to meet.

What should he do? Fuck.

TK snuck around back. He did not want his Dad to know about this. Carlos said he’d meet TK at the end of his street.

TK groaned, as he walked down the street, without the oxy his body really hurt.

Thankfully he had changed out of his bloody clothes. He was wearing a comfy hoodie, and sweatpants. He saw Carlos’s Camero at the end of the block, his shift must have ended right after he let TK go.

“Hi.” TK had another moment of not knowing what to say, it was becoming a habit around Carlos.

Carlos had his arms folded as he leaned on the hood. “You know tonight did not go how I expected at all.” He had one of those collared shirts on that hung on his bicep. And a pair of dark jeans. He looked perfect.

“Looking good officer.” TK smirked at him. Figuring couldn't go wrong with a compliment.

Carlos chuckled, still not changing his posture.

“You are fucking lucky as shit.” Carlos said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the baggie.

TK sighed. “I won’t blame you if you tell the truth.”

“Not exactly possible now that I let you walk.” Carlos pointed out extending the bag towards TK.

“Fine then arrest me now.” TK grabbed the bag. “I never wanted you to have to cover for me, it’s not right.”

“I am not going to arrest you TK.” Carlos sighed. "I don't want to,"

“You should.” Taking the baggie into his hand, TK didn’t know what to do, he still craved it. He should have gone to a meeting that night.

Carlos looked so dejected, TK knew what not turning him in was doing to Carlos. He was a good police officer, he would cut a break to someone who deserved, but TK didn’t. He had a million chances, he should have known better. He was hurting someone who didn’t deserve any pain especially not from him.

“I always thought of my using as victimless, until one night I overdosed, and my mom and Dad looked like they had just had their stomachs pumped not me. I felt bad but I just told myself I wouldn’t take too much again, no one would get hurt” TK mumbled. “The second time, I was a firefighter, and luckily they considered it an accident, on the account they had been prescriptions and I had been injured on the job so…” Carlos just waited for him to continue. “But god my team was so worried. I figured this time, okay I will stop for real. And then...and then last time.”

How did he tell Carlos, that last time he had tried to kill himself? “I fucked up. I just always think this time I will be careful enough, this time no one will get hurt. I never not once wanted to hurt you.”

“Then stop.” Carlos looked at him with such hope. Stop, what a novel idea.

“I am trying.” TK knew it was a shitty answer. But he was trying. “I am going to a meeting first thing.”

Carlos nodded. “Okay then.” His eyes lingered on his hand; TK was clutching the baggie tighter than he should.

Fuck.

TK chucked the bag as hard as he could. “I swear.”

“I know but I still don’t really understand…” Carlos was mulling his words so carefully. “I want to understand why getting high was worth everything tonight.”

TK shoved his hands into his pockets. He felt so small in this moment.

“I wish I had a good explanation, I guess once you start, well stopping is hard.” Carlos didn’t look convinced. “Not just the cravings which never seem to go away, but the rush, once you reach that perfect high, that singular moment that takes away your physical and emotional pain, well, real life doesn’t seem as appealing after that.”

Carlos nodded.

"I've read the pamphlets I get intellectually its hard for you. I just hated arresting you tonight. I hated everything about tonight."

“I should have worked the program harder, I guess I thought I could do it on my own, but I know how lucky I got this time Carlos, I am going to sober up. I’ve done it before.” TK wished he could sound more convincing, the only thing he could promise was he was going to try.

As Carlos turned away, TK’s heart sank. What could he say? Did he even want Carlos to stay? Could he handle any of this?

“Can I ask you something?” Carlos was holding his car handle door, but his body was angled towards TK, he could see the battle in Carlos’s eyes, should he stay should he go?

“After tonight, I owe you any answers you want.”

“Why did you start using pills?” TK chuckled; he knew Carlos was wondering how a middle-class kid with two loving parents decide to go down such a dangerous path, after all he had it pretty good. Sadly for Carlos there wasn’t a trauma it was just a series of bad choices. It could happen to anyone.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

TK hopped onto the hood of the car. Signalling Carlos to join him; “I did just get my ass kicked. I am a little tired.”

Carlos laughed “please I saw the other guy, you really can handle yourself in a fight.”

TK shrugged. “Sorry to say but it’s because I’ve had practice.”

Carlos frowned. He sat next to TK, he was clearly waiting for TK to tell him the story.

“I guess it started when I was a teenager. I was partying a lot anyways drinking a lot, and smoking weed all of the time, but when I was eighteen I was dating an older guy.” TK turned his head towards the sky, he’d rather not see Carlos’s face, he did not want to sound like a tired cliché, but he was.

“How much older?” Carlos asked.

“He was twenty-seven at the time.” Carlos groaned.

“It wasn’t like I was exactly inexperienced or anything. Anyways he was a big partier, and I started hanging around people who did some stronger things than weed and it was like this whole new world had opened up. First it was uppers, and then it was opioids, they had really hit the scene. I had been struggling with depression for a bit but pills were an easy fix and suddenly I realized that I liked feeling high better than I liked sobriety.”

“But why?”

TK chuckled. “My mom is a bigger work-a-holic than my Dad mostly because she had to raise me so after I grew up a bit she started to chase the dreams she had let go of, I don’t blame her. My Dad was never around, we are close now but that’s just because I joined his crew. So I always felt like I wasn’t good enough, and I just I don’t know felt lost.” TK had always wanted to feel like he was a part of a family, sadly for him his family had always been fractured. “I was left without supervision so no one noticed when I fell in with the wrong crowd, and no one really noticed the signs of depression, I know I didn't."

TK had never been good at asking for help. "And like I know it’s bad in Texas and I can’t complain much because New York.”

“Being out anywhere is a challenge TK.” Carlos interrupted firmly.

“I know, but let’s just say first responders tend to not look to fondly on gay kids.” His Dad might have been supportive, but TK had grown up hearing how he was a blotch on his Dad’s legacy. Sucks that the all American Owen Strand had a gay kid. It got worse after he started partying more, TK hated to admit it he had been arrested more than once. He was lucky to still be admitted to the academy. If his mom hadn’t been such a good lawyer, well his life could have gone a completely different way. “And I guess I was always thinking I wasn’t good enough. I made some bad choices. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, so it was easier to fill the gaps with pills.”

TK wondered still if he picked the right thing.

“Okay maybe it wasn’t a long story, but for a long time I tried to convince myself that if I was using, I wasn’t hurting anyone, and then it was this time I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I am starting to realize that I can’t use and not hurt people, so yah.” TK wasn’t sure what to say.

Carlos sat up. “I hope you do stop TK, cause you deserve to think more of yourself. I won’t mention the drugs this time, but…”

TK wanted to promise there wouldn’t be a next time, to erase the worry he saw in Carlos’s face, but he didn’t want to lie like that. But this time he would try.

TK kissed Carlos, maybe that would convey what he was trying to say. “I will try, I swear.”

“Try for yourself.” Carlos sighed.

“I have to get going TK.” Carlos looked sad. “Call me if you want to hang out sober minus the cuffs.”

TK hopped off his car. “Maybe you can bring the cuffs still.”

“Busting my balls, huh?” Carlos laughed.

TK shrugged. The only thing he could say was; “Thank you.”

Carlos nodded.

“One time TK, never again.” Carlos got into his car.

TK watched him drive away. He knew where he had tossed the pills, he could go and find them. And then sober up tomorrow. He was still sore from the fight. But he could hear the finality of Carlos’s voice. The pride in his father’s eyes. Was it worth it?

Never again. Carlos had meant it.

Don’t break so fast.

Shit, he really was going to have to go to a meeting.

He wasn’t going to lie to Carlos, he was going to try. Maybe just maybe to see in himself what Carlos saw, because he wanted to be that guy.

Fin

#tarlos #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #jasonvtodd #for emily she is the reason i have written so much #i know suddenly two long fics in a week i don't know whats happening either

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braincoins · 4 years

Text

For some reason, I decided to write up what happens when someone new comes to Ray’s research centre (yes, centre not center; Ray doesn’t care, but Percy and Bram both think the “-er” version looks wrong).

Anyway, it can be a slightly off-putting experience to those new to the centre, and it doesn’t help that there are also academic classes being taught there and new hires coming in and out all the time, too. The reputation of the place on the IOU campus is, “Duuuuude, did you know there’s a whorehouse?! BESIDES Sigma Epsilon Chi?” So walking into a slightly more clinical setting often throws people off.

And while Greek parties are still the best place for casual (and free) hook-ups and the so-called “whorehouse” charges money, the latter doesn’t smell like stale beer and also has cookies.

I dithered a bit on whether to put this on the smut blog, but, honestly? Discussion of the mere existence of sex workers-slash-sex researchers isn’t “smutty.” There’s no actual boinking going on in this.

He walked up to the limestone and marble building. This was definitely the correct address he’d been given. It didn’t look much like a... a house of ill repute though; more like one of the fancier and less-exploded university buildings. He double-checked the address on his comtab with the one on the mailbox. Right address. He shrugged and headed in.

He was in a gorgeously-appointed lobby, as if someone couldn’t decide if they were building a hotel or a doctor’s office and had split the difference. Benches lined the walls to either side of him, made of mahogany and plush with red velvet cushions. There was a desk straight ahead of him, like a hotel concierge. There was a door behind the desk that read OFFICE. An elegant stairway curved up behind it. There were hallways to the left and right. The desk had a hotel desk bell, a young woman with pink skin and white & black hair behind it, and a plate of what looked like chocolate chip cookies on it. He approached uncertainly.

“Um, excuse me...”

The young woman didn’t look up from what she was doing. “Client, student, new employee, applicant?” she asked.

“Uh... I am a student at IOU but...”

She looked up now, and gave him the once-over. “Are you here for a class?”

“No.”

She nodded. “Are you applying for a job or have been recently hired?”

“No.”

She nodded again. “Client then.” She smiled a Polite Customer Service smile and rose from her seat. “I’m assuming this is your first time here.”

“Uh, quite. I was told this was a...”

“Brothel, whorehouse, etc.?” she supplied for him.

He could feel his cheeks heating and he nodded mutely.

She shrugged. “This is the Sex & Sexuality Research Centre,” she told him. “We do take payment in exchange for sexual pleasure, and have a variety of scientists willing to participate in whatever you desire.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.

She chuckled. “Don’t worry, first time’s free. Also, there’s cookies,” she indicated the plate, “though we’d like you to wait until after your blood work.”

“Blood work?”

She pulled up a tablet and set it on the desk in front of him. “For your first time here, we need your demographic data: name, date and place of birth, dimensional coordinates if you know them, sex, gender, identification, romantic and sexual orientations, etc. It’s all on the form. Don’t worry, we won’t use identifying data in any of the published research. We’ll take a blood sample and do a few quick scans to make sure you’re healthy. We know it feels like a lot, but that’s why we don’t charge for the first time.

“After that, you can choose a room and a partner from the available list. You should also indicate desired activities, so we can further match you with the best possible researcher. Every room comes fully stocked with various lubricants, contraceptives, and toys, as well as appropriate hydration resources. We can even provide sustenance, within reason.”

He didn’t even know where to begin with all that, so he just repeated, “Within reason?” because he wasn’t sure what would qualify as “unreasonable” in a place like this.

“No feasts without proper advance notification,” she told him. “But we can order you a pizza, make you a burger, that sort of thing. And the professor does make marvelous cookies! If you’d rather have something other than chocolate chip, he can see to it.”

He was quiet a moment, considering. “So... basically...”

She cut him off. “This is functionally a brothel, but the sex workers take notes on what goes on here and it all gets analyzed for research purposes. If you’re willing, we’d love to be able to do audio and/or video recording, but those options are off by default. Normally we just use the researchers’ after-encounter notes.”

He thought about that. “And first time is free?”

She nodded. “Yes. After you fill out the forms, get the scans and blood work. And that’s all done here, in-house.”

“And also there are cookies.”

“Yep! Fresh-baked, homemade, not from a mix. Professor Darknoll takes pride in his work.”

He considered all of that and nodded. “So I get laid, get fed, and I can help science all at the same time?”

She beamed. “Absolutely! And I like your attitude.”

He grinned, finally feeling a bit more sure of himself. “Well sign me up!”

#Braym #IOU #my OCs

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sunaddicted · 4 years

Text

Calming Influence (Q/Silva, crack)

James didn’t think he could be blamed for being suspicious of the way Raoul Silva buzzed around Q-Branch, flitting to computer to desk seemingly without any kind of supervision going on; it made something visceral inside of him twist and turn with the memory of the glass doors of MI6 effortlessly sliding open, as if they had been made for allowing an easy passage rather than restricting it - and all had been done remotely, from an apparently useless and damaged laptop.

He didn’t want to know how much more damage the blonde could do if he ever got his fingertips on one of their computers keyboards, the little taste of hacking the man had given him while he had been tied up in his island-lair had been more than enough to make him healthily concerned of Silva’s capabilities: Q was good, undeniably so, but James had a feeling that the former Double-Oh was even better; he wasn’t an expert, he knew only basic hacking, but natural talent was only part of it - experience mattered and it was evident that Raoul Silva had had a lot of it.

Unrestrained too.

“How are you so nonchalant about the fact he’s roaming around as if he’s not a threat to national security?” James asked Q under the guise of getting the boffin a fresh cup of tea; nobody ever would find that suspicious, it was a well-known fact that the Quartermaster required a steady supply of tea throughout the day in order to function - he wasn’t sure about whether it was just a legend that had become fact or Q really was that dependent on caffeine.

“Would you believe me if I said he is a calming influence?”

“No”

“Well, he is”

James frowned, his eyes zapping from Q to Silva - still unnervingly too close for comfort to a computer that was hooked into the mainframe, if all the cables dangling from it were anything to go by - and back to the younger man, peacefully sipping from his mug, whole body relaxed against the edge of the desk he was leaning on.

It was kind of infuriating: here he was, worrying and vigilating like one was supposed to when a terrorist and murderer was in the room, and nobody seemed to give a shit.

“How so?”

Q shrugged “He keeps my temper in check” and whenever he hit a bug in his coding or a snag in his reasoning, it was refreshing and soothing being able to talk it out with someone who actually could follow him; R was good and talented but she just wasn’t at the same level, she couldn’t understand him as effortlessly as Silva did.

To be honest, Q was a little enamoured with the man.

He knew it was wrong , one just didn’t go and sprout a crush for a criminal mastermind that innumerable international agencies wanted to put their hands on so that they could permanently do away with him - but Q had always had a thing for smart and dangerous men who could make him sweat with a frisson of genuine fear; it wasn’t a part of his psyche he necessarily wanted to explore, he didn't really care about why he was attracted to the likes of Silva.

“You have a temper”

“Don’t sound so shocked”

“Well, I can’t help being surprised”

“Because I never murdered you for feeding the gun I slaved on to a Komodo dragon?”

Q was never going to let him live that down and James couldn’t really blame him for it: it hadn’t been his most thought out move, if he was honest with himself “Among other things” he conceded with a small nod, the corner of his eye constantly trained on Silva; every movement of the man made him tense, body getting ready for a fight seemingly out of its own volition - his reflexes acquired over years and years on the field came to life without James needing any kind of conscious effort on his part.

“Meditation works wonders, you should try it”

“If meditation works so well, why do you need that bastard around then?”

“Maybe I don’t mind the eye candy”

James didn’t splutter - he just did not . The noise that left his throat was… something that could go undescribed for the sake of his dignity “ Eye candy ?”

“You’re sounding a little hysteric”

“That’s Raoul Silva”

“And?”

“He blew up the old headquarters, almost killed me and killed M”

“Oh, shuck the holier than thou attitude: it’s not like you’ve never fucked someone who was on the other side of the chessboard, to put it metaphorically”

“You’ve fucked him?!” James hissed, crowding closer to Q in the hopes that feeling a little threatened would make the younger man change his version and say that he had just been joking, purposefully riling him up in an attempt at getting back at him for all the wasted and destroyed equipment.

He would even admit he deserved it, if that ended up being the truth.

“Bond-”

“Q”

Why did he never manage to keep his fucking mouth shut? The younger man stepped even closer, not wanting anyone to accidentally hear the conversation they were having; Q could already feel the blood rising to grace the tip of his ears and the apples of his cheeks, the telltale betrayal operated by his own body “ Yes - and you’ll keep your mouth shut about it if you ever want to go back out in the field with a functioning gun”

#007 fest 2020 #007 fest #teambondvillains #2020 writing #anonymous prompt exchange (2020) fill #qsilva #Q/Silva #Q #quartermaster #raoul silva #tiago rodriguez #007 #james bond #crack #banter #i dont know what this is

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bishwonathpaudel999 · 4 years

Text

In simple terms the body has two very different and complex systems of energy producing sources. As energy is vital to the very existence of human activity and survival the two energy style depend on each other for support. This post will shows you what foods give you the most energy.

It occurs so very frequently - we resolve to go on with a health and physical fitness program with zest and likely much fanfare too;

however in the first week of going into the plan, everything peters out.

Why is it that we don’t stick with the diet plans, the morning jogging plans, the physical exercise plans that we make?

And what may we do to ensure we keep going with these plans, for our own sake and for the sake of the individuals that are dependent on us?

Are you eating simply to satisfy your appetite or to make your taste buds happy? Or are you eating in order to take better command of your life? In this post, we see how you are able to make your life much more optimal simply by making a point that you eat correctly.

Eating Healthy

All The Info On Eating For A Healthy Life

Chapter 1:The Basics

Energy is needed for the various functions like maintenance of growth, daily activities, exercise and many other movements or functions that are often taken for granted. These are shared between the two energy systems.

In today’s world, seldom do any health and fitness plans work. What’s the reason for their alarming rate of failure?

The world is a lot less healthful than it was two decades ago. Much

this is attributed to the altered food habits of individuals.

The Basics:

The primary and first to be used energy system is the aerobic system. This system uses oxygen for the function of the muscles

and does demand quite a lot from the general body system.

This demand usually increases the rate and depth of breathing and

blood supply mainly because of the corresponding increase of the heart rate.

When the body requires more energy which cannot be met due to the elevated need for more oxygen then the body system automatically switched to the anaerobic energy system. This system is able to produce energy without the need to use oxygen.

All this energy is generated through the suitable or correct consumption of foods. The foods consumed dictate the types of energy levels each individual is capable of producing.

Muscle fatigue usually occurs when all the energy sources are exhausted which can be attributed to a variety of reasons; the most

compelling one depends very much on the types of foods consumed.

There are several categories of foods that produce various

beneficial elements for the human body system and noting the ones that create or enhance the energy generating sources is

definitely useful to know. Therefore this knowledge should help the individual choose the right types of foods.

The aerobic system works by breaking down the carbohydrates,

fatty acids and amino acids in the foods consumed while the anaerobic system releases energy from the foods stored in the

body, usually during intense activity bouts.

If we hear about the failure of diets or gym plans all around us,

commonly it isn’t their fault. Commonly it is the fault of the

individuals who started with much commotion about going

through these plans, telling all their acquaintances and co-workers

about it, and then didn't abide by those programs.

The individuals who abandon the exercise or diet halfway do not

see the advantages, naturally, and everybody blames the plan.

What the world needs nowadays isn’t a fresh health or fitness

program or a diet, but it requires motivation. It needs the correct

sort of mind-set to follow through with whatever plan they have chosen to the very end.

If they can do that, most of the health issues that are related to life-

style situations will get to be outmoded. And we don’t have to visit

the corners of the earth to discover this motivation. The motivation

lies right here, inside us; we simply need to search it out and utilize it.

One generation ago, individuals wouldn't dream of picking up

whatever junk food they could get in order to feed their faces.

Nowadays, we do that so very casually. “I'm hungry” commonly

means “I want a burger or a hot dog, likely with chips on the side

and some cola.” And, “I am on a diet” means “I am on a chemically

ridden pill which will defeat my hunger and deprive my body of vitamins.” It's genuinely no wonder that we are facing so many health issues today.

Our health is an indicator of what we consume. The sorry condition that we're living in isn't an individual problem; it's a global issue. The world as a whole is eating incorrectly. Six in every

ten individuals in the US is overweight, and the number is going to be eight in every ten individuals by the time we hit 2015. Are we truly thinking about this? We aren’t. Even as you're studying this post, you likely have a packet of chips on the side.

Do you know that what you spent on that package, which is filling your stomach with some of the most toxic chemicals known to humanity, could instead have fed an emaciated youngster in Ruanda?

But it’s not simply about being philanthropic. It’s about ourselves

too. Yes, we have to be selfish. With such appalling health figures, aren’t we heading for doom? We're definitely not eating right.

Whatever excess baggage that brings - obesity and the assorted ill

health in its wake - we have to be prepared for it.

So the next time you see that a program has failed or is receiving a

lot of criticism, remember that the criticism isn’t probably because

the program stands on shaky ground. In most cases, it is because

people began with great intentions and then did not follow the

program as they should have.

Chapter 2:The Way You Think About Food

The most crucial thing that you need to keep your health and fitness

program alive - even more crucial than an instructor or a doctor - is your own motive.

You have to be determined to scrutinize the situation. So, you're

overweight and are looking at casting off a few pounds. No gym

instructor from anyplace in the world will help you if you don’t take

adequate measures to have the right diet and to stick to your routine

exercise.

Even if you're sick and are looking at treatment, no physician will

help if you aren’t determined in following the treatment platform,

whether it's taking the medication at the correct time or abstaining from some foods.

#nutrition #positive quotes #spirituality #workout #wood #quotes #writers on tumblr #cardio #fitness workoutfitness motivationfitness dancefitness musicfitness songsfitness exercisefitness at homefitness and lifestylefitness at home #bodybuilding #health & fitness #healthy eating #health #fitfood

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always5hineee · 4 years

Text

The Final Bell- Chapter 22: Fearless Leader

Chapter warnings: Mild language and graphic content

Word count: 1717

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

-----

"We don't have time for this! We're nearly there!" Taeyong was panicking as Doyoung stood under the hood of the car.

"I don't know what to tell you, I don't have the materials necessary to fix a car battery. The marina is only a few miles from here, and there's not a closer city."

"Maybe one of us can run and find the stuff you need at the marina. That way we can drive the supplies back, and-" Y/N started to suggest.

"It's too dangerous." Jaehyun cut in. "In our experience, the coasts are always crawling with infected. Looking for a way out with nowhere to go- making that run alone is a suicide mission."

"We all go together then? And come back?"

"There's no point, we'd all be there. It would be safer to just take a boat and go."

"That's risky. With no food or water, we'd have days to find a place." Mark pointed out.

"We'll take as much as we can carry, then." Taeyong decided. "Everyone grabs a bag, takes what they can, and we make a run for it."

"That's insane." Jaehyun argued.

"It's the best chance we've got." Taeyong countered. He was surprisingly calm given the mess they were about to walk into. She supposed this is why he was in charge. No matter what the situation, she had never seen him break. It had to grate on him, but what could she do? It was just how he was. Maybe he justified the suppression by helping everyone around him. Regardless, without him, they wouldn't have come nearly as far as they had.

Jaehyun didn't argue any further, yet another testament to their leader's capabilities. They quietly started grabbing things- it only took a few minutes. It didn't feel right, leaving the car behind. It had seen the life and death of so many, pulled them from the brink of annihilation more times than they could count. Yet another member of their party left in the dust, they supposed.

The walk was unpleasant, to say the least. The sun was directly overhead, microwaving them mercilessly as they stumbled towards the water. About a mile out, they started to smell the salt grazing the air. Sweat dripped down Y/N's forehead as she looked ahead, seeing Taeyong in front of her. Mark, Doyoung, and Jaehyun were behind, but she could vaguely hear their labored breathing.

"Almost there." Taeyong reassured them. It was bittersweet news. To start, would they be able to leave knowing that all their friends, all their past fights, were rotting here in the dirt? It felt disrespectful, like they were abandoning their friends. On a more surface level, though, they knew what the coast had in store for them. It was only affirmed as the salty air changed to the stagnant aroma of a butcher's.

As they crossed a particularly large hill, they finally laid eyes on the shore. The sand and the sound of the water was all familiar, the white clouds overhead almost indicating a beautiful day. Forming an impassible barricade at the water, though, were what had to be thousands of disgusting, purple monsters. It was the biggest horde she'd ever seen, jaw dropping as her eyes surveyed it.

"Here's the plan." Taeyong whispered, snapping her out of it momentarily. "Do you see that boat?" He pointed towards the marina. Most of the ships were either clearly broken or had submerged in the ocean. One in particular, though, seemed nearly untouched, if not a little mossy. It was smaller than they would have hoped, but anything functional was good. The area was crawling with enemies.

"We'll sneak as far as we can unseen. Once we've been detected, we make a mad dash for the boat. Jaehyun, Mark and I will defend the exterior. Doyoung and Y/N, you hotwire the boat and get us out as fast as possible. There won't be much time, and we've only got one shot."

"I don't know anything about that stuff," Y/N argued. "I should help you fight, have Doyoung handle the ignition on his own, I'll just be in the way."

"That's kind of true-" The boy in questions started, but Taeyong cut him off.

"I said you were going in, end of story. Ready?" Ready- already? This was all moving incredibly fast. Taeyong looked to his three remaining original group members. Holding out a hand, he shook Jaehyun's, then Mark's, and finally Doyoung. "I'll see you on the other side." He smiled at Y/N, giving her a half-hug. "No sad faces, we'll be out of this in no time!" And with that, the operation began.

As quiet as it was to walk in sand, it proved difficult to stay hidden. The zombies had a keen sense of smell and were very sensitive to loud noise, so they spent the majority of their worrying on keeping the supplies from clinking or shuffling. The boat was about a quarter of a mile from their starting point, and only accessible through the open field of the beach. They made it about a third of the way when the first zombie finally spotted them.

"That's a go!" Taeyong shouted, taking off through the sand. He was incredibly fast- it took Y/N a moment to process and catch up. They were intercepted a little over halfway. Jaehyun immediately started blasting the heads off of the nearest perpetrators, trying to create a space for the two runners to make it through.

"Go! Hurry up!" He shouted, mauling another. Mark said nothing, but was clearly just as focused. Doyoung managed to slip through just in time, still running for the vessel. He wasn't quite as speedy as the others, but he made good time. With the horde focused on the noise of the guns, he was the first to make it to the boat. Y/N, however, was stuck in the fray. Zombies were pouring in from down the coastline, attracted by the movement of their associates.

She started shooting in any direction she could get to in time. Thankfully, they managed to keep a few feet of distance for more than a few minutes. Her heart rate rose, stressing as she started finding herself more and more overwhelmed. They needed direction, and soon. Thankfully, it came.

"Everyone, aim your hits that way! We're gonna break through and hop the boat!" Taeyong yelled over the disgusting growls and squishes of a zombie fight. As he said this, the vehicle roared to life, kicking up water in a small wake behind it.

"We're go for the boat!" Doyoung shouted over. It was still a good distance away. Thanks to a few well placed knife strikes by herself and Jaehyun, the two were able to slip through the mass and out the other side. Surprisingly, the zombies didn't follow... what were they targeted on?

Y/N's eyes widened in fear as she saw them continue attacking Taeyong and Mark. They hadn't managed to make it through as Jaehyun and herself had.

"Shit!" The man yelled, fumbling with his shotgun. "I need to reload! Y/N!"

"I'm fresh out!" She started to panic. It would take Jaehyun at least a full minute to get his shotgun back into firing order. Could the boys hang on that long? There had to be at least fifty zombies in their direct vicinity now, and more quickly coming.

"Doyoung! Shoot!" Jaehyun shouted towards the boat.

"I don't have a clear shot!"

"I don't care! Just do it!" Pulling a gun out of his own belt, Doyoung squinted, trying to get a decent lock on the nearest zombies. Taeyong leaned back as one. came for his face, kicking it back with his little free leg room.

"We don't have time, just shoot!" Jaehyun screamed. Freaking out, the man fired into the crowd. Taeyong went under.

"Fuck!" Doyoung jumped down from the ledge of the boat onto the dock, splintering the wood. He started sprinting over as Jaehyun began firing as well, now with a fully loaded arsenal. Pushing through, their gazes searched for Mark and Taeyong. Y/N finally caught a glimpse of his hair through the mess of bodies.

"They're over there!" She yelled. Doyoung tried to push through, holding zombies back with his arms. Y/N turned to grab him as she saw a zombie bite down into his neck from behind. His face twisted in pain, but he still found it in him to yell.

"Go! Get Taeyong, now!" Unsure of what to do, she took whatever orders were barked at her, using the space he had created to her advantage, arching down and grabbing an arm. Yanking it as hard as she could, she pulled Taeyong up as he gasped for air.

He struggled to breath as blood came up out of his mouth. She noticed it on the left side of his neck as well- finally, she saw the hole in his shoulder, right above his collarbone. Doyoung's bullet had missed its mark.

"Don't worry, we'll get you fixed up-" she started, trying to hold him up. His knees were shaking as he collapsed, and she was finally forced to set him down. Right next to him on the ground, she found Mark's body as well. His eyes had about as much life as Taeyon, and they were bleeding from roughly the same area. She saw his stomach convulse as blood poured out from his throat, coloring the sand beneath him- he had been partially eaten.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my GOD-" She started crying, trying to figure out which one to grab, how to take them both, how to fix them-"

"Y/N-" Taeyong sputtered. "Go- Jaehyun and Doyoung, get on the boat, you have to leave, there's no time-"

"I can't, you-"

"I gave you an order, now go!" He had always insisted he wasn't the leader. That he was just one of them, one of the guys, just trying to survive with everyone. Why now play some artificial rank card. Before she could fight with him, though, she felt a steel-grip on her wrist. It was achingly familiar, although the first time she had felt it had been on asphalt.

"You heard the man, come on!"

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jujuoh · 5 years

Photo

Slimebodies!

This post is for a bunch of fun history and anatomy stuff! In the Goo AU, I haven’t decided yet if there were natural slime people originally, but the googioh characters are actually using slime bodes as avatars of a sort. They’re created via various slimes, oozes, and gelatinous cubes, and various secret magic-science known only to the Kaiba Company.

Gozuburo Kaiba, a human merchant who had no problems dabbling in necromancy for his own gain, started out initially trying to make a new (or at least temporary) body for his dying son, Noa, but quickly veered off into using the research for soldiers/weapons that could live indefinitely and heal from almost any common battle wound - to be created en masse for the highest bidders. Noa’s mind and soul were uploaded with technomancy to an isolated machine in the back of a warehouse and forgotten until Gozuburo’s death, and his adopted son Seto Kaiba inherited all of his possessions and assets. Even though Seto is ridiculously competitive and appreciates a good fight, he detests anything resembling actual warfare and wants to use the technology and magicks to create rather than destroy.

Seto is a human technomancer Warlock, who’s magical sugardaddy is the lightning dragon goddess, Kisara. Mokuba is still in training. Their parents were killed in an avalanche, later discovered to be caused by one of Gozuburo’s weapons. The man adopted them after Seto showed off his intricate knowledge of electrical runes.

Seto goes back into the original slimebody research and tries to give Noa the body he was always meant to have. To do this he had to start the spells and potions over almost from scratch, trying to steer it away from necromancy and into artificery, and while doing so discovered that adding fruit extract made the bodies more stable and less.... unsettling, more sentient rather than living weapons or mindless beasts like they were under Gozuburo’s direction. The type of fruit didn’t seem to matter beyond what colour (and bizarrely, flavour) the resulting body had.

After this success (and with a new whiny, but clever, slimy, green-apple-and-mint brother in tow), Seto decided to do more test trials for others in need of a new (or spare) body. Along with everything else he was making in terms of technomagical supplies and creations, the Kaiba Company was rebranded into a force for good. The slimebodies could be used when traveling or doing work underwater or hazardous conditions, or for people who are in magically induced comas to promote healing or are unable to move, in order to keep their daily lives going and their minds healthy and active while their bodies rest. They’re especially handy for disembodied souls like Noa, though ghosts specifically seem to have a harder time possessing them than flesh-and-blood bodies.

Now we finally get to use the infographic up above! Here it is again:

Humans, elves, dwarves - Any of the races can use slimebodies, even non-humanoid ones, though the transition will be more difficult the farther away in similarity the body plans are. All you need is sentience and the ability to give consent (that last one isn’t technically necessary but Seto won’t do it without it unless it’s an absolute (medical) emergency and the affected party physically isn’t capable.) The comparisons here will all be to humans for simplicity’s sake.

1. Auricles - In place of both ears and noses, the auricles are little triangular protrusions on the side of the head, that sense vibrations (and thus sound), chemicals (smell), and also electricity. This makes them highly empathetic. All three of these senses are stronger than those humans have, but sensitivity to bad smells is much lower, and sensitivity to bad sounds is much higher.

Piercings aren’t permanent and will close up immediately upon removal of piercing jewellery, but they are easy and nearly harmless to redo. Jewellery and jewels can be simply stuck into or onto the bodies as well, and is a unique form of accessorizing available to the slimes (though I suppose one could glue jewels to the body, this is much more secure, and there’s no threat of sweat loosening the gems).

2. “Hair” - Nobody knows why, but the slime on top of the head seems to mimic hair growth, down to the specific hairstyle the embodied prefers. Mobuka’s answer is “It’s magic, dummy.” It can be changed as well, and sometimes even grows out the way actual hair would, but other times it doesn’t. Mokuba’s answer still holds. Long natural (A), cut/blunt end (B), short and spiky (C), and pulled back (D) styles can be seen here. For some reason - *coughmagiccough* - any “extra” flavours like mint or honey end up in the hair, as can be seen in Noa’s pale, minty bangs, and Yugi’s golden bangs.

3. Eyes - Slimes have vision nearly identical to humans, though they have no trouble seeing underwater without goggles, and with no limit to their pupil size, have a wider range of light they can see in. The main differences are in purple (or approaching purple) eyes, which can see in ultraviolet as well, and in red (or approaching red, like orange) eyes which can see in infrared. They don’t need to blink, and can see through their eyelids even though their irises are obscured from outside view. Blinking is just a residual habit or an emotional response.

4. Mouth - Slimes don’t have teeth. Not permanent, solid teeth, anyways. Hard ridges form in the mouth while eating or in response to emotion. While slimes technically can be able to taste (and eat) with their entire bodies, reminiscent of their oozy progenitors, it is something that they must actively concentrate to do. The mouth area and the tongue do these passively, and it’s more habitual for one to eat with their mouths and no, say, shove food directly into their digestive center. It’s also pretty rude to taste your friend when giving them a hug - you wouldn’t go up to your bestie and lick them, would you? Or would you...?

5. Organs - Or rather, lacktherof. Slimes breathe through their skin, much like frogs do, and can breathe in the air and underwater. Fresh water is preferred, but they are able to stay in salt water for quite a time as long as fresh drinking water is available. They also need to absorb a lot of light - slimes are capable of photosynthesis through the presence of chlorophyll (green-blue) and rhodopsin (red-purple). Due to this, slimes try to wear as little clothing as possible without feeling or appearing naked or inappropriately dressed. They do, and must, however, eat actual food. Anything from hamburgers to non-toxic minerals can be digested in the cores of slimebodies. Need to hide a corpse?

6. GenitaIs - Slimes only form temporary organs between their legs during certain times, which can be uncomfortable at first for those inhabiting the slimebodies. Others use this as the perfect excuse to forgo underwear.

7. Nails - While the ends of fingers and toes are firmer in order to function properly, there are no nails. Slimes that find this uncomfortable or just want to decorate themselves use stick-on nails (no glue required. While the sticking-to isn’t permanent, it’s more like semi-permanent, like a perfect vacuum seal.)

8. “Skin” - As you can see, slimebodies are overall semi-transparent and heavily tinted. Depending on the lighting, the position, and the slime, objects might show through the bodies clearly or be barely visible. While the outside has a shiny, slick appearance, to the touch the “skin” of a slimebody feels no different to an amphibian (or perhaps a damp, sweaty person). While slime droplets occasionally drip down or even off the body, not much is lost throughout the day, no more than a flesh-and-blood body loses from sweat, dead skin cells, and other passive loss. Slimes wear clothes and shoes not for concealment (though hiding the digestion process is considered polite), but to keep themselves clean, like any other being, though slimes tend to pick up much more lint than anyone else due to the constant slight moisture at the surface.

Mostly made of water, even more so than FnB bodies, slimebodies are immune to water attacks, strong to fire attacks, weak to ice attacks, and are immune to electric attacks as long as they have contact with the ground. Slashing attacks can cause damage, but unless it’s magical or elemental, the cuts will heal quickly and completely. Crushing attacks cause more damage and are hard to reform from, but it is possible.

In times of high, unstable emotion or high damage, the shape of the bodies way denature temporarily and turn partially or entirely into a slimy puddle. This is reversible, and not harmful in and of itself, but it will certainly feel very, very strange. Should a body be cut in half, the two halves can either be cleaved back together, or the bigger half will reform into a new body with rest and food. The bodies can stretch and melt through conscious effort as well, and many slimes can even be seen “melting into each other” during particularly snuggly hugs. Any foreign residue will eventually be converted or replaced by the original slime, so any colour or flavour changes are not permanent.

The way young Yugi came to inhabit a slimebody is quite an adventure. The short-ish version is this:

Sugoroku Mutou in his youth was a human adventurer, a budding merchant-slash-warrior that would go on quests for rare, expensive items, either for a wealthy client or to expand his own collection. Whilst in Fantasy Egypt looking for an ancient cursed game board (the very one he would later use against Mr. Otogi, an eladrin bard), he stumbled into a lost tomb. From what he could tell, it was the tomb of an Aasimar prince, 3000 years gone, and yet the only thing in the burial chamber was a box on a pedestal, and you know the story from there...

A powerful, but gentle presence urged Sugoroku to take the box, filled with what appeared to be a magical, solid-gold three-dimensional puzzle out of the tomb and back home. Having had many, many, MANY experiences with cursed objects, Sugoroku could tell this thing was deeply and powerfully cursed, but not in potentia, the trap had already been sprung long ago. There was no danger, here, just a lot of loneliness.

He returned home and kept the box shut, having given up on solving the puzzle himself after a few decades, got married, had a kid, his son got married to a spritely elf, and they, too, had a son, all before the puzzle was even thought of again.

Yugi, a half-elf with the makings of a great hero, solves the puzzle one year after finding it at age 7, and he suddenly has a second shadow. The shadow is always there, though sometimes it hides in his real shadow, and it does its best to protect Yugi throughout the years. Slowly, ever so slowly, the shadow gains sentience, and sometimes Yugi sees the shape of smiling eyes, and Yugi always smiles back.

On Yugi’s sixteenth birthday, several years into his magical training, he can suddenly hear his shadow friend’s voice, and his friend can possess his body, and everyone realises that this poor ghost has been trapped sealed in this piece of metal for millennia. He doesn’t even remember his own name.

Yugi decides to set off on a quest to discover his friend’s past and try to find something to help him, but Mr. Otogi shows up to exact his revenge before he even gets the chance to ask his friends along on the quest. Yugi’s body is burnt to ashes, but his shadow clings to his soul and hides it in the puzzle alongside his own.

Seto hears about what happened, and Jounouchi is the one to suggest that Yugi might be in the puzzle with his shadow friend, and Seto makes them both slimebodies and hopes for the best. It’s a huge adjustment for everyone, especially poor Atem, suddenly in a body, remembering scraps of his past thanks to Yugi’s brief presence in the puzzle. Unlike the other slimes, Atem can’t stay in his body unless the puzzle is encased in the goop - why is he so different?

The slimebodies were always intended to be temporary, and now with three different people in need of new, actual flesh-and-blood bodies, their adventures are only beginning. What - there are other ways to create slimebodies? Somebody is trying to compete with Kaiba Co? There are groups calling this blasphemy? Must they foray into necromancy in order to return Yugi, Atem, and Noa to their actual bodies? Who cursed Atem in the first place? What caused the lost prince to become lost? There are other cursed golden items with souls hidden inside? Why does Seto choose everyone’s fruit so carefully? It’s because he’s gay

#googioh #long post under the cut

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motherofwoofers · 5 years

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Chapter 3 of I'd Rather be Hibernating

Full chapter 3

Chapters 1-16 can be found on AO3

It hadn't taken long after that to snap up the little butterfly and send it on it's way. Lucky Charm cleansing the city, buildings appearing as new, cars no longer flipped, shards of glass littering the ground, disappeared.

Ladybugs swarmed the city, while gently caressing each of her wounded and wincing teammates. Skin stitched together but sliced suits remained damage, flawless skin now visible. Xuppu would be the worst for wear, and King Monkey would have to supply a serious heap of caramels before kwami and chosen both crashed.

The rose kissed beetles linger over Chat's cheek, soft as silk, and then after a breath, flew off with the breeze.

A small bundle wrapped around Viperion, fluttering along his long legs and around his torso. A couple settling along his heart and lips before they too flew off. Viperion's eyes closed, his entire body letting lose a wave of fear. There was no end to the torment he felt. The recent akuma battle fresh in his mind, though all the wounds, failures…. and death from before lay buried within him. But for now, he could unclench his jaw, loosen his fingers- and breathe.

He could breathe air without the sickening tang of blood in the area. He could hear the sounds of the world beginning to bloom again. Moving in to see the victim. Sirens in the distance, likely the nearest fire engine than an ambulance. He could hear it all, instead of the silence where bones had crunched. Snapped. Where the screams of the men around him tore at the seams of the Earth.

Opening his eyes, he could see again.

He could see her standing there.

See her breathing.

See her alive.

The quiet sobbing to his left ripped his attention back to the woman who had just been Equalizer. The crumpled paper in her hand a resume.

"I'd been passed up so many times. So many, many times," she mumbled. Tears lead into heavy silence. "It was always one of the men. One of the *boys*," she hissed. "Ten years. I worked there 10 years… I couldn't take it anymore!"

Chat Noir was offering her a hand and speaking quietly with her, as she accepted his grip. Pulling herself up. The trucks were pulling in, sliding on the ice a few feet before coming to a stop. Men jumping out and handling the pedestrians that began to form, and assisting the woman. Chat sent a two fingered salute as he spun to his comrades, before returning back to the civilians. Handling the PR for this battle.

King Monkey made his way over, a small swagger to his steps though the exhaustion was clear.

"A dildo? Of all things?" Ladybug folded her arms, hands slipping under her armpits.

A booming laugh later, "It was the most enraging thing that came to mind," he leapt and balanced oddly on his Staff. "Time to be off. I'm expected. I may have lost a bet on this one. Plus you two are about to collapse from frostbite!" Then King Monkey was off, a loud whoop to the crowd as he dissapeared over a roof.

Viperion had visibly flinched. His very soul struck at another reminder of his failure. Another memory he kept just to himself, no one else ever remembering. Only the success.

"I'm cold, Scales," she chattered. Eyes attempting remain fierce, back ramrod straight to avoid curling into itself. The deep blue of her gaze swept over to him as she peered up. "I need to get home."

Viperion nodded. As he always did. Keeping the pain too himself. It had become his job to get her safely home this winter. Chat Noir no longer able to reach out as he once had. No longer able to be close to anyone for long. He hadn't recovered yet. The revelation of his father had been too deep of a wound. Too large of a betrayal. And then he had shuttered himself.

He needed time.

And though the job had fallen to Viperion, he would never complain. Never abandon her.

It was time he spent with her, and her alone. A quiet peace and warmth that she played on him. Her determination to remain confident and strong in not only the face of the public, but also anyone looking to destroy and harm the Parisian city and it's people.

But she breathed with him. Always. A burden sinking from his shoulders that she let him bare.

He nodded in her direction as he moved closer, eyes flicking to the buildings at the end of the lane. She nodded. Springing from the cold pavement into the biting cold of the open air, landing on the frozen roof. They both waved back to the gathering below, before running off and leaping among the apartments and shops.

As rushed steps turned into slow faltering steps, Ladybug collapsed just out of sight of the public. The building Viperion had suggested sheltered from prying eyes. Her knees hit the ground with a bite and she fell forward onto her hands.

He was there instantly, arms enveloping her as he crouched. Her body tremored beneath him and she wrapped her arms tightly about herself.

"I'm so tired. So cold," she mumbled. Teeth chattered. He strained to hear. He worked on instinct, pulling her to him, sliding her body forward so her knees pressed between his legs. He tucked her head under his chin, arms holding her as close as possible. She shook against him. Her heart beat slow. The melody whisper soft.

Ladybugs earrings beeped angrily at them. Tikki's power drained in the weather and the events of her chosen's repetitive deaths. His own band had sent out enough warnings.

"We're out of time, Ma Mélodie," lips whispered across her brow. The storm was approaching far faster than predicted. But then again, when you rewind time so frequently, the moment seems longer. The storm slower. It was clear the snow laden clouds were far from slow though.

Icy wind blew over them, whipping the long strands of her hair until it snapped.

The beeps and chimes grew louder.

"We need to get out of this," but her shivering had stopped. She was slumped in his arms, breathing slow. Viperion tipped her head back, revealing her sleeping form, pale face.

His heart stuttered.

And then he panicked. Struggling to pause. To think. Assess. That was what he did. He waited until the best action to take was revealed.

But he couldn't right now.

She was going into hypothermia and he was barely better off himself. His body stiff with the cold.

Adjusting his grip, he stood on weak legs, that he ordered to function. To pump freezing liquid through his veins. She was tucked into his arms, her petite frame easy to hold. He looked around. His home was too far to bring her. And he knew hers was as well, she lived close enough to him. She always had.

He could think of few places to go. He figured even less as the Ladybug earrings nearly screamed at him.

So Viperion ran.

He moved with the wind that battered them. Was sure footed on icy slants. Hidden to prying eyes, though her suit streaked like blood across the greys and whites.

As he landed on the top of a large apartment complex, it happened. A blinding pink light erupted in his hands. A small furry red god collapsing between his chest and hers. Her fleece pajamas and pink fuzzy socks sliding against his suit.

He gripped her tighter.

"Stay with me, Marinette. Stay with me Ma Mélodie."

#luka couffaine #luka x marinette #lukanette #tales of miraculous ladybug and chat noir #marinette dupain cheng

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haritakipowder3-blog · 4 years

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Supplements For Cholesterol, Blood Force Along with Heart Disease

haritaki powder High blood pressure, or heart problems, is a single of the leading reasons of morbidity and fatality rate now a days. Blood pressure level can play havoc about arteries and and internal body organs, if still left untreated, placing the level for the actual development of a myocardial infarction, stroke, or kidney inability.

haritaki powder

In people with gentle in order to moderate blood stress, lifestyle changes; joined with valuable natural nutritional supplements, may dramatically lower blood strain and may get rid of the want for prescription drugs because well.

There are plenty of Ayurvedic herbal products and modern-day food dietary supplements for prevention along with cure of hypertension. These works extremely well as an adjuvant to be able to the pill therapy.

Nutritional C available as Amla Drink ( Amla Saar)

Vitamin supplements C is amongst the most essential antioxidant that is needed with the body for eradication of totally free radicals. Typically the free foncier are the particular substances that are created during various metabolic techniques within our body. These people are also shaped since of stress, pollution, using tobacco, synthetic drugs etc. They will damage the inner cellular lining of the arteries and are generally responsible for growing older, creases, premature death. Panic and anxiety enhance the formation of free of charge radicals many times. Supplement M is a quite important anti-oxidant which often scavenges free radicals in addition to defends us from their hazardous effects.

The antioxidant nutritional C may also assist lower diabetes and cholesterol and helps throughout enhancement of arterioneogenesis. we. age. formation of new veins. Recent studies found in which larger blood levels associated with vitamin T were linked with lower systolic as well as diastolic blood pressure.

Amla is the richest all-natural supply of Vitamin C. The idea has 30th times far more vitamin D than orange. Pure Amla juice Could be consumed dailiy with regard to prevention of issues regarding hypertension as well since several dreadful diseases.

Coenzyme Q10

Co-Enzyme Q ten could be the natural vitamin similar to micronutrient which is necessary by the cardiovascular muscle mass for proper functioning. It offers a superior energy to the coronary heart muscles cells. The day-to-day dependence on prevention of cardiovascular system disease and also cholesterol repair is involving 30 for you to 60 mg/day.

Natural Co-Enzyme Q 15 is found in the bark of any tree "Terminalia arjuna". Ayurveda recommends Terminalia arjuna to be adopted in the form involving "Arjuna Ksheer pak" i actually. e. in a natural and organic tea form. This green tea of Arjun should always be ferv. in milk along with normal water because the Co-Enzyme Q twelve is a great deal better absorbed with milk products fats. Co-Enzyme Q 12 additionally helps in normalizing body cholesterol levels.

Suggested measure: When making Arjun teas you ought to use 3 to help 5 gm on the plant powder and disect this in milk in addition to waters to get maximum positive aspects.

Flaxseed and Fish Natural skin oils

Flaxseed is the just vegetarian way to obtain Omega-3 greasy acids, very vital to maintain the cholesterol levels responsible for all. Flaxseed oil should possibly be eaten by people battling from interupted cholesterol rate of metabolism. Flaxseed olive oil is employed in Ayurveda regarding reduction of heart problems, types of cancer and many other serious ailments. Many experts have shown in order to reduce high blood force in a number of double-blind studies. Merely further virgin cold shoved Flaxseed Oil should become used for common ingestion. It should not end up being warmed or used intended for cooking. Often the Omega-3 oily acids get demolished in the event that the oil is heated up or used for preparing food. It should refrigerated to make certain freshness as well as efficacy. Intended for cooking function, Mustard acrylic or Organic olive oil can always be used.

Suggested dose: Flaxseed oil: 1 tbsp. (14 grams) a day. Acquire with foodstuff to improve absorption.

Fish natural skin oils: one particular, 000 mg 3 x some sort of day. Use fish essential oil health supplements if you no longer eat fish no less than double a week. Keep under refrigeration to ensure freshness

Garlic herb

Garlic clove is another great natural solution to retain cholesterol and heart and soul connected problems away. The item prevents clot formation start by making platelets less likely to heap, and it can aid lower cholesterol quantities and also prevent formation of artery-clogging plaques. Garlic contains chemical substances which are good to get digestion connected with lipids along with heavy weight loss plans. According to be able to Ayurveda Garlic is exceedingly valuable for "Vata" and "Kapha" conditions and is a new miracle get rid of for paralysis and motor unit nerve ailments. Garlic needs to be avoided with cases of high blood vessels pressure as it can increase "Pitta". So it is encouraged only in cases associated with high cholesterol with out bloodstream pressure.

Suggested dose: 700 mg twice a moment my spouse and i. e. 1-2 bud after daily. It can easily be taken using baby or boiled within dairy products to reduce the home heating effect.

Ashwgandha ( Withania somnifera)

Ashwgandha is furthermore referred to as "Indian Ginseng" inside intercontinental herbal market. This particular botanical herb has marvelous components to ease stress, anxiety. This is seen to possess adaptogenic properties my partner and i. e. that helps body for you to change to various stresses in addition to cope with them. That is rejuvenates cells, lowers fatigue and give strength to help the neuromuscular technique. Throughout Ayurveda it is employed in rheumatic conditions and while the sexual stamina enhancement. This also increases the very low sperm number and is usually very useful in infecundity. Regular use of Ashwagandha having milk is recommened throughout emaciation of young children, protein electricity malnutrition seeing that well as insomnia with elderly due to pressure as well as hypertension. Stress similar high blood pressure responds very effectively to Ashwagandha.

Suggested Measure: Ashwagandha basic powder could be taken 3-6 general motors ipo twice daily along with comfortable water or dairy.

Brahmi ( Indian Peenywort)

This specific slender, creeping herb expands commonly in local swampy areas of Asia, Photography equipment, and the tropics. The actual size of a well used British isles colonial-period penny -- this kind of is how it came up to be called American indian pennywort, marsh dollar and also water pennywort (with "wort" being the early anglo-saxon word for plant).. The idea is famous in girl as 'Gotu Kola'. Gotu Kola Enhances Tranquility along with regulates sleep pattern. It is just a wonderful herb not simply with regard to blood pressure nevertheless also for memory weak spot, lack on concentration Its regarded as one regarding the most spiritual in addition to rejuvenating herbs in Ayurveda. Today, this herb has grown to be popular to promote pleasure, detox the blood, boost brain purpose, and regarding strengthening the collagen fabric of the body's conjoining tissues and circulatory boats.

Since so often many of us find hypertension is associated to daily stress, Gotu kola is an crucial herb intended for blood tension patients. Boiled within drinking water or direct drink can certainly be taken at nighttime to get sound sleep as well as nervousness. It effectively settings demand without causing just about any unwanted side effects.

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humanspacesuits-blog · 4 years

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How To Treat Infectious Diseases: OZONE

Wondering how you can treat and even prevent communicable diseases?

Today’s medicine you should always have in your cabinet is: Ozone.

If you knew of a molecular compound that was anti-inflammatory, an anti-oxidant, an antitbiotic, boosts the immune system, boosts the gut microbiome, boosts the metabolism, aids proper circulation of the blood, increases cognitive function, increases stem cell production and tissue reparation, provides food/energy for every cell in the body, repairs the endocrine system, heals nearly all infections, heals a variety of illnesses, relieves a variety of ailments, and more...would you use it? Most notably in today’s topic at hand, it is scientifically proven to be an extremely efficacious treatment against all bacterias, fungi, viruses, yeasts, and protozoas, including antibiotic resistant infections.

This compound is O3 (a compound of three oxygen molecules,) or ozone. We usually find oxygen compounds with just one or two oxygen molecules like carbon monoxide, CO, and hydrogen dioxide, H2O, because O3 is incredibly unstable and readily parts with its extra oxygen molecule, eliminating free radicals as it absorbs into the bloodstream. This means ozone is a highly reactive and extremely fast acting medicine. Ozone therapies available for your medicine cabinet come in two methods of delivery: ozonated oils and ozonated water. (There are more ways for administering ozone therapy but if you want to look into them, make sure you have a quality medical provider on board with your journey and the advanced therapy’s administration.) Using ozone is easy, affordable, safe, and error proof, without the laundry list of side effects and unavoidable mutations that pharmaceuticals cause. If you’re only able to afford one tool in your medicine cabinet, this is The One.

“Starting from the demonstrated evidence that our immune system produces O3 by antibodies to dispatch their bactericidal activity, it is clear the importance of its anti-pathogen role against bacteria (both Gram-positive and Gram-negative), fungi, virus, yeast and protozoa. In bacteria, O3 disrupts the integrity of the bacterial cell wall through oxidation of phospholipids and lipoproteins. As this occurs, the stability of the bacterial cell envelope is attenuated. In fungi, O3 inhibits their growth interacting in the same way as bacteria. In viruses, O3 damages the viral capsid and breaks the reproductive cycle by disrupting the contact between the virus and the cell through the process of peroxidation. The cells vulnerable to the invasion of viruses are coated with weak enzymes, susceptible to oxidation and can be eliminated from the body when interacting with O3.”

This excerpt is from a great study that was just published a few days ago, I highly recommend you read it for a full overview of what all ozone does.

Ozonated water is arguably the best form of delivery for most treatments. You can buy an affordable, quality, small machine online. Our ozone generator has supplied my family with years of medicine and clean water/air for less than $75. Get one! Making the water is as simple as plugging the machine in, putting the diffuser stone into a glass or jug of cold water, and selecting the time setting needed. (For my generator) two minutes will get you a glass of ozonated water, thirty will get you a gallon. You can then drink this water, apply it to or soak a target area, clean and sterilize objects, apply it to burns and cuts, treat plants with it, treat animals with it, use it on your hair, soak your produce in it, and more.

I have this ozone generator.

Ozonated water alone is sufficient to kill almost all pathogens after 30 seconds. In a world of constantly developing infectious diseases, noninfectious diseases, antibiotic resistant infections, and antimicrobial resistant infections, ozone is an irreplaceable tool. What is more accepted and utilized in the body than water and oxygen? Utilizing O3 in the body is the natural aid for reparations. There are nearly no known side effects from use of ozonated water and it does not damage most anything else that isn’t damaged by water, either.

Putting this in a real life perspective: when you go to the doctor for a Staph or MRSA infection, they will prescribe you an antibiotic to take for 30 days. The CDC recommends antibiotics that in over a handful of options, no more than 87% efficacy is expected. These antibiotics also have a long list of side effects and are perpetuating the issue of Antibiotic Resistant Threats. When I got a staph infection, the doctor prescribed me a bottle of pills for me to take one a day for the next 30 days, and if it didn’t work, I should come back and get more. Ozonated water is clinically proven to heal staph infections in 60 seconds. I was camping at the time and used ozonated oil. Ozonated oil is clinically proven to heal staph infections in 15 minutes. My large infection in several different areas was entirely cleared up in 3 days of bi-daily ozonated olive oil application, maybe a total of 1/2 teaspoon used and my skin looked better than before I got the infection even.

Ozonated oils are good to keep on hand in cases such as camping and on-the-go when you don’t want to (or can’t) prepare ozonated water. Yes, there are machines that you could buy to ozonate your own oil but quality machines cost several thousands of dollars and until you’re fully familiar with this medicine, its probably easiest to just buy a jar of ozonated oil from a quality supplier. Smaller machines (like the one I have) are technically able to ozonate oil but in order to get the concentration we’re seeking, they would be heavily overworked even just to get close. I can’t emphasize enough how important sourcing integrity is for ozonated oils - you don’t want to be paying for diluted ozone masking as miracle products (ozone is a superior product in itself, additives cheapen it) and you don’t want to be paying for unsaturated/partially ozonated oils (a red flag for this poor quality is when a company lists how long their oils are ozonated for.) A good company to avoid is Ozoned Organics.

I use this ozonated olive oil, ozonated coconut oil, ozonated castor oil, and ozonated hemp oil.

The different oils used do make a difference in how saturated the ozone is, so sensitivities should be taken into consideration when using different strengths. Ozonated hempseed oil has the highest level of saturation/strength so I like to consider it for use as a very specific as need basis. Ozonated coconut oil has the lowest level of saturation/strength so I like to consider it great for nearly anything, especially with small children/babies, the elderly, and sensitive parts like the genitals - keep in mind coconut oil is also the most agreeable flavor for oral use or ingestion. Ozonated olive oil is a good “medium” level of saturation/strength so I like to consider it my basic go-to and you’ll find our family using it daily, which is great because a 2oz jar still always lasts us longer than a month. You can also use specific oils for their individual benefits, such as castor oil is great for hair and jojoba oil is great for skin.

A couple of things to pay attention to when you’re first using ozone internally is that you may experience parasite die-off, which is never fun for anyone. Thankfully, parasite die-off from ozonated water is generally very brief and lasts about 15-30 minutes after your first glass of water and doesn’t happen again. So actually this is a great option, in my opinion, and I would recommend using ozonated water to boost any other parasite cleanse treatment! The parasite die-off from ozonated oil is different and the headaches in particular can last longer and continue with continued use until the parasites in your body are entirely dead/removed. After your initial use, you’ll notice fairly immediate effects of die-off if you are going to have them. Your reaction will correspond with the location of the parasites; if you have parasites in your intestines, you will vomit; if you have parasites in your colon, you will have diaherria, if you have parasites in your brain, you will have a headache. Again, these are usually mild and brief, but its still good to be aware of so you can properly prepare and have some time set aside in a comfortable place before the first time you ingest ozone.

Another note is that yes, this ozone is the same as what is surrounding our planet and yes, it is not safe for us to breathe as a gas. When you’re using a machine, you want to set it up in a room that you can leave while the machine is running. The escaping gases will clean the air in your room, so this is particularly beneficial for those of us with sensitive respiratory systems. I like to have a more permanent ozonation station setup in the bathroom but also an easy station to setup in every room - ozone is way better at making a room fresh than aerosol sprays, wax melts, essential oils, and the like.

On the other hand, ozonated oil is extremely beneficial to breathe. One of the easiest ways to achieve this is by applying ozone along and into the nostrils. A quick swirl around and into the nostrils will instantly aid with most breathing related stresses. You might have ozone boogers for a while, which is just a sign that you’re receiving residual benefits. As an asthmatic, I use this to help stop wheezing and whenever there is wildfire smoke or poor air quality where I am. We also apply this to our noses anytime we’re feeling in the slightest bit sick as well as whenever we know our breathing could use a little boost, like when its particularly cold out or if we’re adventuring in higher elevations. Its also really fantastic to put on before exercising, stretching, or meditating.

I like to oil pull with ozonated oil and brush my teeth with ozonated water (making sure to spit it out afterwards so all of the inactivated gunk goes down the drain instead of into your body, and into the trash can if using oil so it doesn’t clog up the drains.) I like to soak my produce in ozonated water for 30 minutes to remove any residues, kill any pathogens, and better preserve the produce so they last longer before going bad. I like to clean with ozonated water, and am constantly amazed at how ozonated water will lift stains like a fake commercial. I like to use ozonated oil on wood products that require oil treatments like cutting boards, wooden utensils, and handmade goodies. I like to pour ozonated water in my hair during a shower and use ozonated oil as a regular treatment on all hair (including my pits!) I like to use ozonated water as a genital rinse for adults/children for any sort of funk going on down under, and ozonated oil is a great diaper rash or genital ointment for any use. I like to fill up a sprayer with ozonated water and spray down plants just once right before they transition from the vegetative state to the fruiting/flowering state to ensure the plants are healthy and able to easily achieve maximum production. I like to soak my medical equipment (i.e. my nebulizer parts) in ozonated water for 30 minutes. I like to apply ozonated oil onto any cuts or scars I have to watch them disappear after a handful of applications (this includes stretch marks!) I have gotten chronic stress rashes since I was a child that have never been treatable for me but now I like to use ozonated oil any time I have any sort of rash and it is always cleared up within a few days - its actually recommended to use ozonated oil to treat adverse reactions from pharmaceuticals even.

Whenever I hear of an ailment, my first thought is “does ozone help that?” Most of the time, it does, and it is always the answer when considering any of the communicable diseases. You can know, with confidence based on published and peer reviewed unbiased science, that any of the fad diseases projected by the media or the CDC are treatable with ozone. You can assume that after 1 minute under ozonated water a target area will be disinfected - shoot for a 30 minute soak and you’re invoking some of the most the powerful self care possible. You can assume that after 30 minutes under ozonated oil a target area will be disinfected - shoot for applying a thin layer of ozonated oil two or three times a day (or anytime a target area feels dried, itchy, or uncomfortable) until all signs of infection are gone. Pay attention! You will likely be able to see this stuff working before your eyes. I kid you not that you can be bleeding, apply this stuff, and watch yourself not only stop bleeding but the red blood cells get reabsorbed into your circulating bloodstream. This is scientifically demonstrated! Its phenomenal and you can rest assured your family’s health is protected as long as you have ozone on hand.

We also drink ozonated water daily, anywhere from a glass to a gallon or more per person depending on how we’re feeling and what’s going on with us. The most exciting part of drinking ozonated water is the burps as you can literally feel your body breathing from the inside out, almost like a fish, as the extra oxygen is expressed through your lungs. You’ll enjoy knowing your immune system has an extra strength booster that is entirely beneficial for your body. Ozone is safe for you, safe for your children, safe for your pets, safe for your neighbors. It’d be a shame for the CDC and the pharmaceutical industry to lose all the money they make off the general public from all of their drug sales but give yourself the power of your health back and start using ozonated water and ozonated oils. You can easily achieve medical independency regarding infectious diseases and much more.

Don’t take my word for it! I do have anecdotal experience to share my own personal experiences that myself, my family, and my friends have had but I am not a doctor and I cannot legally provide you medical advice. Check out these published medical studies, learn up on the subject until you have a good understanding of the full concept of ozone, and then do further independent research of your own. I’d love to hear what you think if you do try ozonated water and/or oil out, what your experiences have been if you already use it, if you have any questions before you try it out, and if you have anything at all to add to this discussion!

Until next time, find me in the moon, fellow time traveler.

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/31982474 “Molecular mechanisms in cognitive frailty: potential therapeutic targets for oxygen-ozone treatment” Scassellati C, Ciani M, Galoforo AC, Zanardini R, Bonvicini C, Geroldi C. Mech Ageing Dev. 2020 March

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20802424 “Antimicrobial activity of ozonated water” Białoszewski D, Bocian E, Bukowska B, Czajkowska M, Sokół-Leszczyńska B, Tyski S. Med Sci Monit. 2010 September

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/31986325 “Topical Ozone Therapy Restores Microbiome Diversity in Atopic Dermatitis” Zeng J, Dou J, Gao L, Xiang Y, Huang J, Ding S, Chen J, Zeng Q, Luo Z, Tan W, Lu J. Int Immunopharmacol. 2020 March

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/29207120 “The Antibacterial Effect of Topical Ozone on the Treatment of MRSA Skin Infection” Song M, Zeng Q, Xiang Y, Gao L, Huang J, Huang J, Wu K, Lu J Mol Med Rep. 2018 February

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/23579036 “Topical ozonated oil versus hyaluronic gel for the treatment of partial- to full-thickness second-degree burns: A prospective, comparative, single-blind, nonrandomized, control clinical trial.” Campanati A, De Blasio S, Giuliano A, Ganzetti G, Giuliodori K, Pecora T, Consales V, Minnetti I, Offidani A. Burns. 2013 September

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/30925969 “Oxidizing Effect of Ozonated-Water on Microbial Balance in the Oral Ecosystem” Razak FA, Musa MY, Abusin HAM, Salleh NM J Coll Physicians Surg Pak. 2019 April

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/32024131 “Spraying Ozonated Water on Bobal Grapevines: Effect on Wine Quality” Campayo A, Serrano de la Hoz K, García-Martínez MM, Salinas MR, Alonso GL. Biomolecules. 2020 February

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/30996448 “Application of an environmentally friendly preventive measure for the preservation of fresh vegetables” Paulikienė S, Raila A, Žvirdauskienė R, Zvicevičius E. J Food Sci Technol. 2019 April

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/30896566 “Effect of ozonated water on normal vaginal micro ecology and Lactobacillus” Zhang QQ, Zhang L, Liu Y, Wang Y, Chen R, Huang ZY, Lyu T, Liao QP. Chin Med J (Engl). 2019 May

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