#orphan drugs

[omg-erika]

Hyperinflation of the rare

by Dr.Harald Wiesendanger– Klartext What the mainstream media is hiding “Rare”: that sounds like a negligible number. However, at least in the healthcare system, this impression is very misleading. Even if each “rare disease” affects no more than 0.05% of the population, its diversity has exploded recently: there are now over 17,000. And more and more people are affected: four million in…

[zyrexhealthcare]

Zyrex is based in Pune, India. We are in the Business of Manufacturing, Marketing, Distribution and Exports of Active Pharmaceuticals Ingredients, Finished Formulations & medical devices.

[veeru619143]

NewLife Medicals: Your Trusted Innovator Drugs Supplier

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[somnoir]

Bats and Phantoms - Part 3

Part 3 | Masterpost

Cassandra and Jasmine

Jazz has always been concerned for her siblings. Why wouldn't she? Dan was a former world ender, Danny was ghost king (or was it crown prince?), and Ellie was almost always everywhere. In all honesty, if was overwhelming.

But she'd be damned to not love them no matter what.

Visiting Gotham to see if Danny was okay was... Well, she just had to. Somehow, her brother's have caught the eye of vigilantes and that was obviously bad.

Her phone buzzed and once again she's plagued by Dan's messages.

Younger-Older-Bigger: Should I stalk Nightwing???

Older-definitely: No. Please don't.

Older-definitely: We already have to worry about Danny getting stalked by a crime lord

Younger-Older-Bigger: Yeah but I'm not a crime lord

Older-definitely: NO

Older-definitely: STOP

Older-definitely: DAN

Younger-Older-Bigger: ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ

Why? Why did they have to be like this? Weapon training was somehow the automatic bonding activity for the Fenton/Masters siblings. Dan and Danny liked to fight with sword a little too much and Ellie was all to happy to throw daggers at people. Jazz preferred her lazers and blasters (though her aim was wonky at first, it got better... She promised.)

So here she was, in Gotham... Making sure her brother wasn't being seduced by a crime lord. But of course, she was a Fenton born and bred and raised. Gotham apparently had literal alarms that alerted the entire city of a massive attack. Her phone even got an alert from... WE warning. Wayne Enterprises?

Okay... Apparently Scarecrow was running amok and plaguing the streets with his fear toxin. Oh, Danny was going to go feral.

(A couple blocks away, Danny Fenton was high on the fear and giggling to himself. Yes.)

And also Gothamites carried gasmasks around. What a wonderful day to leave hers behind.

She's already cough, closing her eyes as she desperately tried to stay sane. Her liminal and almost half a state should have made the effects different from her but apparently she wasn't ghost enough to feel euphoric.

Stumbling into the closest building she could find, she's desperately gasping when a gasmask was pressed against her face. Jazz can barely register the dark haired girl with asian features who was hurriedly hauling her to her feet and away from the door.

It takes a minute before she's registering the girl, blinking when she saw her making gestures. Again, it takes her another minute to realize it's sign language.

Thank God she had paranoid siblings who took those classes in case they couldn't speak. But with her brain filled with feat toxin, she's clumsy in signing back but there's some mild surprise in the girl's eyes. But Jazz is conscious enough to notice the tense way the girl stood, how her stance was prepared for a fight. Maybe that was normal Gothamites behavior...

At least, she was communicating with someone. Someone who's really pretty too. God, was the fear toxin making her dopy? That can't be, right?

Cass had seen a pretty redheaded girl fall to her knees, and yet she had more resistance to fear toxin than local Gothamites. It was almost interesting really, but she's not going to dwell on it when this girl was choking for air.

Words don't easily process for her but her body moves without much thought, signing to her if she was okay. The girl, clearly disoriented, looks confused before realization bleeds into her strangely bright eyes—then she's clumsily signing back.

She says her name is Jasmine, like the flower, the princess—call her Jazz, she insists.

And she replies that she's Cassandra—like the character from Rapunzel, like the girl from Greek muths—just call her Cass tho.

When Jazz is in her arms, Cass can feel some muscles through her clothes. This girl wasn't as frail as she look. No. This was a trained fighter, someone who knew how to defend themselves without a problem. Cass should be wary, but at the same time she was worried.

She knows she should be going out there and helping but Oracle had immediately told her to help the civilians in the area. Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Spoiler were handling the situation but the civilians had to be protected at all costs. She might not be able to help as orphan in that moment but she could as Cass Wayne.

The commotion gets worse once Scarecrow's henchmen start raiding the place with every weapon they could get their hands on. She fights to the best of her abilities, watching, predicting, but what she didn't predict was a loud blast tearing through the place and shattering the window.

Cass can see a blast of green spark through the air before directly hitting the Jonathan Crane. The man is blasted into a wall, groaning before he's knocked out.

Her eyes dart to where the blast came from.

Jazz, the strange girl she has just met, was holding a strange gun.

(In the distance, Danny was still very much high and was not aware that one of his maniacal invention had actually worked in his sister's favor.)

Part 4 | Masterpost

[digenerate-trash]

Ok since you mentioned sydney wanting the divine tfs for us how would the yan tfs be with an angel pc?

yan dol | tw yandere | tw violence | tw blood | tw rape | tw drugging | tw doctors | tw malpractice

Robin

Robin is super into it. he likes that it's obvious that you're pure and that means that nothing has ever happened to you!! you're saving yourself for him (he thinks) he likes that you're making sure to stay as pure as you can and not doing degrading things to yourself he likes you better this way

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Whitney

pulls on everything. wings. halo. even your clothes. he's trying to provoke you to see if you'll break and ruin your perfect reputation. he wants to make it seem like this whole "angel" thing is just an act. you're pretending to be perfect but he wishes you were just as depraved and terrible as he is

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Eden

doesn't care for it. it's gone within a couple of days anyway. he practically rips your halo away as he violates you and pulls feathers out of your wings. aftercare is nonexistent. he will never say sorry for taking away your purity

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Kylar

at first loves it! youre so perfect and pure!! you're perfect for him a reward for his loyalty. but if you refuse to marry him or give it up for Kylar he starts to hate it. your little halo taunts him. strong pure wings that he used to love to touch and run his fingers through the feathers make him uneasy. he would never take your purity away. he's a good boyfriend. but that doesn't mean he won't do other things to prove his love

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Avery

He likes the angel tf. It's good to be associated with an angel great for his optics and doesn't mind that he can't have your virginity. the positive attention is enough for him and he can always pin you down by your wings and do other things to make you his own.

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Black Wolf

He doesn't understand the significance. likes to chew on your halo. your wings are big and warm good for cuddling. The light that comes off of you is an eyesore.

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Great Hawk

HAWK!!! HAWK WIFE!!!!

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Alex

doesn't care for it. though your wings are strong and you're helpful around the farm so that's a bonus. he does want a relationship with you. but the fact that you won't give up your TF is kinda a deal breaker. he resorts to begging

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Sydney

is in love with it!! constantly preening you cleaning up your wings polishing your halo he prefers it over every other TF and he needs you to know how much he likes it. he will constantly say how pretty you are how clean you look how he prefers you this way. he doesn't even seem to pay attention to anything else when you're around

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Bailey

hates it. hates you. it's like an insult. he doesn't get why though. you're bragging about being pure in this shitty town and he hates you for it. though he can't bring himself to take it away from you. you catch him starting a lot. but he refuses to touch you with it. afraid hell ruin you if he gets too close

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Harper

you're Harper's little experiment! he needs to know how far he can push your sexual limits before your light starts to fade. he's taking bits off of you. feathers. blood. cum (if he can) constantly trying to keep your halo. way too touchy with your body. likes it when you start to squirm when he goes too far. needs to see you fall.

[neptune-knows]

Drugs

Robin: meth

Whitney: steroids

Sydney: cocaine

Kylar: heroin

im leaving this to my followers bc im not exactly sure what this means; like in general or in relation to their likes?

i feel like robin would probably be the most straight-laced of the bunch, like sydney is obviously straight-edge but i feel like he could be convinced to do some stuff/even initiate it once his corruption is high enough. robin seems the type to not even know what weed smells like

i do think kylars is fitting. not sure if hes on drugs but he is definitely the type to make them lol

as for whitney, i was thinking abt like, how drug creation would work in such a game and i do think that the player would be able to grow tobacco plants and thus be able to make cigarettes, and you could gift them to whitney for a lot of love

sorry if this isnt what you meant with the ask!! if not send another ask and i'll reply <3

[jglaltacct]

Dark Currents (Intoxicating Fear Fanfic)

I: Dark Currents

@chaotic-orphan

TW: choking, strangling, strangulation, stalking, drugging, intimate whumper, intimidating whumper, disoriented whumpee.

The night was a deep blanket of silence as Kit walked home, the distant sounds of the city fading behind him. After a gruelling shift at the hero tower, fatigue clung to him like a shadow. The dark alleyway ahead felt especially foreboding, its walls lined with graffiti that whispered stories of forgotten souls. Streetlights flickered, casting unsettling shadows that danced across the damp pavement, creating an eerie mosaic of light and dark.

Just as Kit turned a corner, a figure lunged from the depths of the shadows—Ambrose.

Before Kit could react, Ambrose tackled him to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He gasped as Ambrose’s hands tightened around his throat, panic surging within him like a tidal wave. The chill of the concrete seeped into his skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of his rising fear.

"You thought you could escape me?" Ambrose’s voice was cold, filled with a twisted satisfaction that sent shivers down Kit’s spine.

"Let me go!" Kit shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. He strained to summon his electric abilities, but Ambrose’s grip was like iron, dulling his spark, leaving him feeling powerless.

Ambrose leaned closer, a cruel smile curling his lips, the flickering streetlight illuminating his features in a sinister glow. "You’re not in control here."

Kit’s heart raced as he twisted beneath Ambrose, trying to break free. With a sudden burst of strength, he managed to throw Ambrose off balance, but it was temporary. Ambrose was on him again, pinning him down, his hands constricting around Kit’s throat like a vice, the world narrowing to a painful focus.

"Why did you come back?" Kit gasped, struggling for air.

"Because you need to come with me," Ambrose replied, his tone unyielding, as if he were delivering a decree. "You belong with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Kit’s mind raced, memories flashing like lightning. The last time he had seen Ambrose, it had been under vastly different circumstances—filled with a familial solidarity, occasional laughter echoing in the air, not this violent chaos.

In his mind's eye, Kit recalled Ambrose and Jude, silhouetted against the city lights, locked in a passionate kiss, their joy stark against the backdrop of a darkening sky. They had looked so carefree, so oblivious to the storm brewing around them.

It was just a rumour, Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit's thoughts, a haunting refrain. Jude and I... it meant nothing.

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Kit managed to shove Ambrose off him, scrambling to his feet. But Ambrose quickly recovered, grabbing Kit’s arm and pulling him close again, the smell of sweat and cologne enveloping Kit in a dizzying haze.

"Let’s talk," Ambrose said, his grip still firm, the intensity of his gaze unyielding.

Reluctantly, Kit followed, feeling the tension crackle in the air between them like static electricity. They walked to a nearby bar, its neon sign flickering ominously, casting a ghostly glow on the cracked pavement. Inside, the atmosphere felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and the scent of stale beer mingling with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke.

Max, the bar owner, greeted them with a nod, his weathered face a map of years spent in the dim light. "What’ll it be?"

"Two shots of whiskey," Ambrose ordered, his tone lacking warmth, as if he were merely playing a role in a dark theatre.

As they settled onto the bar stools, the faux leather cracked beneath them, and Kit couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him like a second skin. "What about Jude?" he pressed, muted anger flaring again, the question like a lit fuse.

Ambrose waved a dismissive hand, irritation flickering across his features. "Forget him. We have more pressing matters."

The whiskey arrived, amber liquid glinting under the low light, and they downed the shots, the burn cutting through the tension like a knife. Ambrose leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You still don’t understand, do you? You’re meant for more than this life."

Kit narrowed his eyes, anger bubbling beneath the surface, a tempest ready to erupt. "You think you can just show up and demand I leave everything behind?"

Ambrose’s gaze was intense, as if he were peering into Kit’s very soul. "This place is holding you back," he replied. "You need to step into the light with me."

Kit felt the weight of Ambrose's words, but the alcohol was dulling his resolve, making the room sway slightly.

Unbeknownst to Kit, Ambrose had slipped something into his drink. After another sip, a wave of dizziness washed over him, the world spinning around him like a carousel gone awry.

"What did you do?" he slurred, struggling to stay upright, the edges of his vision blurring.

"Just a little something to help you relax," Ambrose said casually, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Kit’s spine.

Kit’s strength faded, and he felt the ghost of Ambrose’s hand tighten around his throat again, the imaginary pressure making it hard to breathe, suffocating him with fear.

"Why are you doing this?" Kit gasped, panic rising like bile.

"Because I need you to understand," Ambrose said, his tone chilling, devoid of warmth. "You’re mine."

As they stumbled back to Kit's apartment, Ambrose’s presence loomed over him like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. Inside, Ambrose closed the door with a slow, deliberate motion, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

"This isn’t over," Kit whispered, fear and anger churning in his chest like a storm at sea.

Ambrose stepped closer, his expression shifting to something darker, more primal. "We need to talk about us."

"Us?" Kit echoed, scepticism lacing his voice, as if he were trying to make sense of a riddle with no answer.

Ambrose held his gaze, eyes intense and fierce. "I didn’t abandon you. I had my reasons, but now I’m back for you."

Kit’s heart raced, caught between anger and the flicker of something darker, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. "You think it’s that simple?"

The pressure around his throat returned, tightening just enough to send panic coursing through him like a wildfire. "You need to listen," Ambrose commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"You can’t just expect me to forgive you," Kit managed to say, breathless, the words escaping in a whine.

"I came back for you," Ambrose insisted, his grip still firm, unyielding. "You have to understand."

Kit felt the pressure building, the edges of his vision blurring as darkness threatened to creep in. "You’re hurting me," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Ambrose released him slightly, but his eyes remained locked on Kit’s, a predatory intensity that made Kit’s pulse race. "I won’t let you go that easily."

"What do you want from me?" Kit managed, desperation creeping into his voice, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

"I want you by my side," Ambrose replied, voice low and menacing, each word dripping with a power that was both alluring and terrifying. "But first, you need to know what you’re getting into."

Kit glared at Ambrose, heart racing, feeling trapped. "This isn’t love—or whatever you think this is. You’re just trying to control me."

Ambrose stepped closer, the tension between them palpable, electric. "I’m trying to save you. You don’t see it yet, but I’m the only one who can."

"I can take care of myself!" Kit shouted, his anger finally boiling over, a defiant spark igniting in his chest.

With a swift movement, Ambrose seized Kit again, his grip tightening until Kit felt the world closing in around him, darkness threatening to swallow him whole. "You’ll understand," Ambrose said, voice cold and unyielding.

Just as Kit felt he might pass out, Ambrose released him, stepping back, breathing heavily, as if he were wrestling with his own demons. "I want you back, Kit. But you need to accept that I won’t let you go."

Kit staggered, gasping for air, the fear mingling with something else he couldn’t quite place, an unsettling mix of dread and yearning. "What have you done?"

Ambrose’s expression turned serious, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "I’m not playing games. This is about survival."

As dawn broke, pale light filtering through the grimy window, Kit knew he had to confront Ambrose and figure out what he truly wanted. The weight of the night pressed down on him, suffocating yet exhilarating, but he couldn’t ignore the twisted bond that kept pulling them together.

This was only the beginning, and Kit had no idea where it would lead them. The struggle for control would continue, but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t back down that easily.

Continued here

[puppetmaster13u]

Okay I have started randomly thinking about the Aliens Vs Predator game (the 2010 one). Specifically the xenomorph campaign, along with xeno-batfam. Y'know, just slowly rotating it.

Just thinking of a what if scenario slash crossover y'know. I mean the vibes are there with xenomorph experiments and all that y'know. Just pondering on if Bruce never ended up on Earth per se

Heck maybe the JL don't even exist yet or something idk, just rotatin ideas rn lol

Here's a playthrough with no commentary on if anyone is curious, though do be warned for blood violence and death, y'know the usual for Alien lol

[pocketramblr]

Watched new hope yesterday and have a vague idea floating around in my head... But first I wanna see something

[thedarkonesposts]

Dol drug headcanons (tw: addiction, drug usage, canon typical content)

I doubt anyone wanted this but I think about it a lot

Whitney: shockingly not a user, he rarely if ever does anything hard. Drinks and smokes but doesn’t do much harder than that. Might snort some coke at a party or social event but otherwise doesn’t venture into drug usage. (Personal headcanon is because it runs in the family and he wants total control of his life)

Kylar: will snort, inject, and take anything he can get his hands on. Probably just stays in his room doing drugs alone. Hardly sleeps, often does stimulants so he can stay up watching his monitors or drawing. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love opiates and other classes though- he’ll do anything as long as he doesn’t have to be sober. He’s probably quite reckless not caring what he mixes.

Sydney: wouldn’t do anything before being corrupted, fairly careful with drugs either way but post corruption Sydney would definitely do coke or other stimulants. It’s more of a rebellious thing than a dependency and he has no issue with self control with it. Honestly think he’d enjoy the feeling of snorting things making coke his drug of choice.

Robin: will not touch hard drugs with a ten foot pole. He smoked weed once and it gave him anxiety so he doesn’t bother.

Eden: doesn’t really see the point or the appeal. He’d probably only take opiates for pain relief only to end up being insanely horny. Definitely not a consistent user and finds it a little silly that others get dependent on it.

Avery: does drugs socially. Mostly coke and other party drugs just because the people around him do it. He doesn’t really care much for any of it but it can be fun and pass time so he definitely doesn’t shy away from it.

[skruttet]

got so annoyed her entire face disappeared. I feel like she should have a forehead shadow like an anime character

[zyrexhealthcare]

[veeru619143]

RLD Pharmaceutical: Advancing Healthcare Through Innovation

At RLD Pharmaceutical, we focus on innovation in developing novel treatments for unmet medical needs to improve patient lives and enhance care standards.

[xrosevoidx]

im only on season 3 of riverdale but there is So Much Happening. dnd was created by nuns to scare orphans and gays but the nuns arent even real nuns. betty is recreating silence of the lambs. penelope blossom was adopted to be a sister-wife entirely because she was ginger and she now runs a femdom brothel and poisons men with the plants she grows in her greenhouse. theyre expecting archie to do his SATs as if he hasnt spent the last year getting groomed by a mob boss/ dragged into an underground juvie bare knuckle boxing ring/living out in the woods/getting mauled by a bear and losing so much blood he hallucinates beating the shit out of himself with a baseball bat