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ankit008blog · 14 days ago

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The Role of a Medicine Warehouse in Modern Healthcare Supply Chains

The healthcare industry depends on timely delivery of life-saving drugs and equipment. At the heart of this system lies the medicine warehouse — a critical link that ensures medicines are stored, managed, and distributed safely and efficiently. As healthcare demands continue to rise, the importance of reliable medicine warehousing becomes more evident than ever.

What is a Medicine Warehouse?

A medicine warehouse is a specialized storage facility designed to handle pharmaceutical products under strict regulatory and environmental conditions. These warehouses play a crucial role in preserving the integrity, safety, and quality of medicines before they reach hospitals, clinics, or consumers.

These facilities are equipped with:

Temperature-controlled zones

Humidity control systems

Real-time inventory tracking

High-level security

Automated order fulfillment systems

From over-the-counter drugs to sensitive vaccines, a medicine warehouse is the central hub where medicines are received, stored, processed, and dispatched.

Why Medicine Warehousing is Crucial

Modern medicine supply chains are complex, and delays or mishandling at any point can have life-threatening consequences. A well-managed medicine warehouse ensures:

Consistent drug availability

Regulatory compliance with health authorities

Product safety through controlled storage

Efficient distribution to healthcare facilities

Inventory optimization and waste reduction

Without efficient medicine warehousing, even the best pharmaceutical manufacturing processes can fail to meet demand on time.

Features of a Modern Medicine Warehouse

Climate Control & Storage Conditions

Medicines are sensitive to temperature, humidity, and light. A modern medicine warehouse uses advanced HVAC systems and sensors to maintain strict environmental conditions.

Regulatory Compliance

Pharmaceutical warehousing must comply with Good Distribution Practices (GDP) and national health regulations. These guidelines ensure medicine safety, proper documentation, and secure transport.

Inventory Management Systems

Modern warehouses use software to manage stock levels in real-time. Barcode scanning, RFID tagging, and automated reports ensure minimal stockouts and expired product risks.

Security & Safety

Because medicines are high-value and sensitive, a medicine warehouse is equipped with 24/7 surveillance, controlled access, and fire safety systems.

Types of Medicine Warehouses

Depending on the scale and purpose, there are various types of medicine warehouse facilities:

Central Distribution Centers

These large-scale warehouses receive bulk medicines from manufacturers and distribute them to smaller regional centers or directly to hospitals.

Cold Chain Warehouses

Designed for temperature-sensitive products like vaccines or insulin, these warehouses maintain a cold storage environment between 2°C and 8°C.

Hospital Warehouses

Some large hospitals maintain in-house medicine warehouses to ensure uninterrupted drug supply for patient care.

Retail Pharmacy Warehouses

These facilities supply medicines to retail pharmacies and online platforms, ensuring the availability of over-the-counter and prescription drugs.

Benefits of a Well-Managed Medicine Warehouse

Implementing efficient medicine warehousing can significantly enhance healthcare services. Some key benefits include:

Minimized Wastage: Proper storage reduces expired or spoiled stock

Improved Forecasting: Data analytics optimize reordering

Faster Delivery: Automated systems reduce delivery time

Better Compliance: Ensures alignment with health regulations

Increased Customer Satisfaction: Timely delivery improves patient care

A modern medicine warehouse not only supports operations but builds trust within the healthcare supply chain.

Technology in Medicine Warehouse Management

Technology plays a vital role in transforming how medicine warehouses operate today:

Warehouse Management Systems (WMS): Tracks inventory, shipments, and expiries

IoT Devices: Monitor temperature, humidity, and location in real-time

Blockchain: Enhances transparency and reduces counterfeiting

AI & Machine Learning: Predicts demand and automates reordering

Drones & Robotics: Speeds up picking and packaging in large warehouses

The integration of these technologies ensures accuracy, speed, and accountability across the supply chain.

Challenges in Managing a Medicine Warehouse

Despite their advantages, medicine warehouses face some notable challenges:

Regulatory Pressure: Constantly evolving compliance requirements

Temperature Excursions: Risk of product spoilage due to system failure

Supply Chain Disruptions: Global events like pandemics can cause delays

Security Risks: Threats of theft or counterfeiting

High Operational Costs: Maintaining technology and staff is expensive

However, most of these challenges can be mitigated with strategic planning, investment in infrastructure, and regular audits.

Best Practices for Operating a Medicine Warehouse

To maximize efficiency and safety, a medicine warehouse should follow these best practices:

Regular Training for Staff: Ensure employees are up-to-date with handling protocols

Real-Time Monitoring: Use IoT and cloud systems for instant alerts

Audit Trails: Maintain detailed logs for inspections and traceability

Backup Power Systems: Prevent storage condition failures

First-Expiry-First-Out (FEFO) Systems: Minimize wastage due to expired drugs

Pest Control and Cleanliness: Maintain hygienic storage environments

Emergency Response Plans: Be prepared for fires, power outages, or disasters

These practices are essential to build a reliable, safe, and compliant medicine warehousing facility.

Conclusion

A medicine warehouse is more than just a storage space — it is a critical infrastructure that supports global healthcare systems. With the rise of chronic illnesses, aging populations, and medical innovations, the demand for efficient and tech-enabled medicine warehouses will only grow.

By adopting modern technologies, maintaining compliance, and following best practices, businesses can ensure their medicine warehouse operations are robust, responsive, and ready for the future.

Whether you're a pharmaceutical manufacturer, a hospital, or a logistics provider, investing in a well-structured medicine warehouse is essential to meet the evolving needs of healthcare delivery.

FAQs on Medicine Warehouse

Q1: What is a medicine warehouse?

A medicine warehouse is a storage facility designed to handle and distribute pharmaceutical products while maintaining strict environmental and regulatory standards.

Q2: Why is temperature control important in a medicine warehouse?

Temperature-sensitive drugs like vaccines can lose their effectiveness if not stored properly. Controlled environments ensure product safety and compliance.

Q3: Who uses medicine warehouses?

Pharmaceutical companies, hospitals, clinics, government health departments, and even e-commerce medical platforms use medicine warehouses.

Q4: What regulations apply to medicine warehouses?

Regulations such as Good Distribution Practices (GDP), WHO guidelines, and national drug laws must be followed for legal operation and safety assurance.

Q5: How can technology improve a medicine warehouse?

Technologies like WMS, IoT, AI, and blockchain improve inventory accuracy, monitoring, traceability, and overall operational efficiency.

#Medicine Warehouse #Pharmaceutical Storage #Healthcare Supply Chain #Cold Chain Logistics #Pharma Warehousing #Medical Inventory Management #Drug Distribution Center #Pharmaceutical Logistics #Warehouse Management System (WMS)#Temperature Controlled Storage #Medicine Storage Compliance #Healthcare Logistics Solutions #Medicine Supply Chain #Good Distribution Practices (GDP)#Pharma Warehouse Automation

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merakiui · 3 months ago

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coastal conversation.

yandere!floyd leech x (female) reader cw: (soft/subtle) yandere, nsfw, breeding, obsession, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight delusion, floyd's kind of a pervert in this one note - everything is in bloom in spring: the plants, the incessant rain, romance… for floyd, it means mating season.

In the most unfiltered way, Floyd feels like utter shit.

He tossed and turned all throughout the night, drowning in an ocean of his own sweat. One minute, he was hot all over, thus the blankets were cast off, and the next he was chilled to his marrow so badly he had to cocoon himself in those same drenched sheets. Even though it’s early spring and the unpredictable forecast has hammered NRC’s campus with floods of cool rain, Octavinelle Dorm is kept at suitable temperatures for its residents.

Therefore, it shouldn’t be much of an issue. He’ll regulate and bounce back…or whatever it is human bodies do when throttled with wild weather.

Floyd has an innate sensitivity to everything, so it’s no surprise he’s able to immediately zero in on it—the creeping suspicion that something’s wrong. He knows he’s falling ill, but there are way too many human ailments for him to recall and some of them aren’t even worth pitching a fit over. He takes pride in his human immune system, which the doctors have observed is healthy every year he’s had to sit for his medical exams, so, really, he has no reason to fret.

And he’s not. It’s more inconvenient than anything. He has plans today—plans he’s not exactly thrilled about—but plans nonetheless. This mounting sickness is the perfect excuse to ditch them and sleep the weekend away. If he believed in all that universe-speaking-through-signs crap, he’d say fate is on his side. It’s destiny telling him not to go on this blind date.

That’s right. A blind date. Those are the plans.

He’s not even sure why he agreed to it in the first place. Maybe because it sounded interesting at the time it was proposed, but now he has to actually execute everything he once marveled at in theory. And dates are so much work, even more so when you’re not feeling it.

But Jade—the professional provocateur that he is—went and blabbed about this development to their mother, who was so thrilled on Floyd’s behalf and wished him all the best. If she wasn’t stuck in the sea with her own business to handle, she’d come up there to visit and cheer him on—something Floyd was quick to veto. He loves his mama, but sometimes she can be excessive in her affections. Any other day he’d be pleased to bask in it, but not when he’s feeling so volatile. It’s like the four seasons are at constant war within his body, each one battling for sole control over his temperament.

Still, he’s a little curious.

He’s never been on a blind date before. It was arranged through an app he’d downloaded for the sake of slaking his boredom. Find your next Charming Darling. That’s what the app advertised—purely fairy-tale experiences. True love and princesses and all kinds of lovey-dovey stuff Floyd scrunched his nose at. Azul had said the app itself seemed “dubious at best, but most certainly a scam,” as it worked only by pairing two anonymous users together for online chatting. It was a location thing, apparently. You wouldn’t know who you were talking to and neither would the other person—each profile kept private for suspense or some other stupid reason—but you’d both know where the other was in proximity to you.

And it just so happened that Floyd’s Charming Darling was close. On campus close.

He wondered which small fry had matched with him, and it was his theorizing that convinced him to melt out of bed and into clothes for the day. He can handle a few hours in town. He needs to pick up some things anyway, so if the date is a bust the trip won’t have been for nothing.

After confirming the meeting place with his so-called ‘darling’, he pulls his sneakers on, stuffs his wallet in his pocket, and then sets off to catch the bus into town.

Even though the sun is high in the sky, the would-be heat is chilled by the gentle breeze rolling in from the coast. His head is pounding and stuffed full of crackling static and wires, and he feels an impossible itch deep beneath his skin. But the pleasant weather manages to lift his spirits enough for him to let his date know he’s arrived at the café. He finds a table outside and plops down, content to wait after receiving an enthusiastic almost there text.

He smells you before he sees you.

Suddenly, the sticky-sweet aroma of candy and pastries and every other saccharine thing invades his senses. It’s thrilling like blood in the water, widening his pupils until his eyes are nearly twin pools of the deepest black, but instead of iron and injury he catches the floral notes of arousal. Or maybe it’s a scarily strong perfume.

Either way, it has his hunting instincts switched on, that predatory hindbrain of his prickling with the urge to chase and capture prey.

Just before he can sift through the other scents slamming his nose and narrow in on that very specific one, someone speaks up.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re my Prince Charming?”

Oh, he knows that voice. Immediately, whatever bad mood was sitting on simmer in the back of his head shuts off and is replaced with a burst of positive energy. A malicious smile curls on his lips, one he’s all too eager to flash at you when he turns around in his seat.

He almost falls out of it.

You look different. It’s a good sort of different. In your pretty blouse and skirt, stockings pulled up to your knees, you look ready for a date. You’ve even styled your hair and done your makeup to match your outfit. It’s a stark contrast to how you normally look at school: perpetually exhausted, too lazy to do anything more than simply pull your uniform on and attempt a semi-presentable attitude. Enough to get through the day. But this… This is a genuine effort.

You got all dressed up for this little date. Even put on a pretty scent.

All for him.

Cute.

If this was the sea, you’d attract all sorts of predators.

Thankfully, your scowl is evidence enough that you’re too miffed to notice his uncharacteristic silence. He beams up at you, the picture of innocence.

��Heya, Shrimpy. Looks like you’re the one I’m s’posed to meet.” To prove it, he holds his phone up for you to see. The chat log glints back at you.

“Unfortunately.” You fix your purse strap and eye the surrounding area with a frown. Floyd can tell you’re searching for your real date because you don’t believe it could be him. When you check your phone for confirmation, your expression sours. “So it really is you.”

“In the flesh. Sooo. You gonna sit?”

“I guess. I already made the trip here, might as well.” You slide into the seat across from him.

“Ya look good.”

“And you look like you just crawled out of a cave.”

“Nope, not a cave.” He rests his elbows on the table and leans in, a giggle tickling the back of his throat. “Bed.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you.”

“If I’d known it was gonna be you, I woulda wore somethin’ nice.”

“Can’t get much nicer than this.” You gesture at him vaguely and he laughs. He’s glad he didn’t miss this. “Whatever. I’ll just get some cake to go and be on my way.”

“Whaaat? That’s lame. Aren’t ya gonna stay a bit?”

I’ll make it fun, so don’t go.

“Why? Are you?”

He nods.

“You don’t even like me. Why would I make myself—and you—even more miserable by staying?”

“Cuz,” he replies with a noncommittal shrug, like that answers it.

Instead of offering him a response, you pry the menu open and hide behind the flaps.

“Didn’t think you were the dating app type,” he tries, aiming for small talk.

You lower your menu to look at him. “Tell me, Floyd. What’s the ‘dating app type’ supposed to look like?”

He leans back in his seat, amused by your annoyance. “Dunno.” And then, before you can recover, a rapid-fire question: “Who were you hopin’ to meet today?”

Tell me so I can beat ’em into the ground.

He snaps out of the sudden territorial jealousy and, like the waves, feels the violent urge ebb away.

Weird. He’s not looking to start a fight today. So then why is he so…restless?

“Not you. You’re the furthest thing from my ideal Prince Charming.”

And he’s back in the ring, ready to swap verbal vitriol until someone succumbs to the blow. “Well, what’s your perfect, li’l prince look like?”

“I don’t know.” You huff and retreat behind the menu, and right then he knows he has you cornered. “Anyone but you.”

“Aww. C’mon, Shrimpy, ya gotta have an image of ’em, at least. If you’ve spent so much time thinkin’ about it—” and he knows you have because he was present for all of those midnight text exchanges, trading details on future partners like they were cards— “then you’ve gotta have an idea.”

“It’ll never be you, so I don’t see why you’re so interested.” But then you slam your fist against your palm. “Oh, I get it. You just want dirt on me.”

“What? No way. That’s boring.” He pulls a disgusted face. He’s not the type to rely on psychological warfare and mental manipulation. So not his style.

“Isn’t that your whole angle?”

His mood promptly nosedives. “Just cuz I’m in Octavinelle and I hang with Jade and Azul doesn’t mean I follow their flow by the letter,” he snaps.

Rather than flinch back, his irritated tone seems to smooth out your stiffness and he watches you visibly relax. He thinks that’s strange. Why aren’t you scared? Not that it’s his intention to frighten you. The last thing he wants is to chase you off. He’s waited so long for a moment like this one; he isn’t going to ruin it.

That’s why he’s so thrilled you’re you. The other small fry would just quiver like a bunch of babies, but you’re different. You meet his mood swings head-on, unflinching and unbothered. Patient, that’s what he’d call it. You’re patient. Not surgically so like Jade and definitely not meticulously like Azul. Your patience is like a tide pool. Calm and transparent. No ulterior motives.

It’s just you. That’s why he likes you so much. No elaboration needed.

“In that case, I could turn the question on you,” you continue, idly scanning the menu. “What does Floyd Leech’s ideal partner look like?”

Fuck. He wants you to say his name again. It pokes at some dormant part in his brain, the one that’s just starting to wake, humming with a queasy sort of desire. He fidgets with the menu, more focused on the extensive list of treats than the contents of your question.

He could say his ideal partner is you, but you probably wouldn’t believe him. And because of that it’s not worth using as a shock factor. Too predictable.

“Someone fun,” he says after a beat of quiet.

“So it was you… I can’t believe I didn’t realize that while we were texting.”

“Wasn’t obvious for me either. You talk so casually over text. It’s like a completely different Shrimpy.”

Equipped with this new information, it drapes another layer of context over your conversations. Because now he can associate your face with all of those flustered messages. He’s proud of that—of teasing you and eliciting such sweet reactions. To think it was you on the other end this entire time. He wonders if he made your heart skip a beat. Or maybe you stuffed your face in a pillow to hide your embarrassment. He pictures you holed up in Ramshackle, vibrating with nervous excitement.

Cute, cute, cute.

Refusing to dignify that with a proper retort, you fold your menu, pass it to the waiter, and voice your order. Floyd follows your lead, rattling off the name of the first dessert that caught his eye.

Just beyond the umbrella shielding both of you from the sun’s searing gaze, storm clouds begin to darken the pastel sky.

To shake off the ache that’s beginning to brew behind his eyes, he asks you about your plans for spring break. He must have won the small talk lottery because the suspicion in your stare disappears and you launch into a full-blown lecture about all the things you plan to get done. A whole grocery list. You’re going to be one busy Shrimpy come next week. A shame he won’t be around to witness it.

He’s keen to listen because it’s really all he can do with his waning focus. Your voice reels him in when his attention drifts. He doesn’t realize he’s admiring your mouth as it sounds out syllables he can only just register. Suddenly, it’s like he can’t even parse human speech. You’re looking through him, brows furrowed.

He’s always thought about kissing you. It’s in a moray’s nature to lie in wait, shrouded in the shadows, patiently waiting for the opportune moment. He doesn’t have anything to hide behind now, though. And if he kissed you here he thinks you might slap him. That would be invigorating.

Something stirs in him.

No. Actually, it’s…

The world.

The world is being stirred. Someone’s stuffed a spatula into the fluffy mixture and given it a steady whirl, and now everything’s a blurry mess of shapes and colors. He blinks rapidly to clear his vision.

It’s too hot. He needs to peel himself out of his skin and soak in the abyssopelagic zone.

Is he sweating? He must be. He’d lick at the liquid gathering between his armpits to determine that, but he’s on a date with you and human courtship dictates that he must impress you. So he can’t do things humans consider ‘gross’ or ‘indecent’. He has to leave a nice impression. He has to prove to you he’s just as good, if not better, than your lousy Prince Charming.

So he wipes his palms on his pants. Not that he’ll hold your hand. He thinks you’d sooner chop your own hands off than willingly reach for him, and the image of this extreme aversion is too funny to offend him.

Floyd swallows thickly. Your smell is so strong. Have you always smelled like this? Now that he’s looking at you, you appear…softer. He can’t explain it. Your skin looks healthier. The darkness sitting under your eyes isn’t nearly as sunken in as it usually is. Your lips shimmer with a beautiful shade of pink-red. It’s almost like you’re glowing.

If you were a mer, he thinks you’d be an ornamental fish. A pretty thing kept pampered, fins flowing like skirts, scales bright like individual chips of glass. A beguiling beauty who is just as fierce as she is stunning.

Maybe, he wonders, his gaze trailing down to your chest, you have eggs. Maybe that’s why you look softer.

“oyd… Floyd!”

He snaps back to himself. “Hmm?”

“Are you listening?”

“What part?” he asks without missing a beat, still smiling even though it hurts to do anything more than simply breathe. “Shrimpy’s got lotsa plans. You’re gonna be all diligent and hardworking. Hey, you should stay over at Octavinelle. We’ll keep ya nice and busy there.”

You roll your eyes. “Keep dreaming.”

He giggles. Oh, if only you knew of all the things he dreams about. Nothing can compare to the real Shrimpy, though. The one who glares at him like he’s an insect. The one who puffs up like a pufferfish when upset or angry. The one who always has such fun reactions to his teasing. How could he possibly stay away?

Just then, the desserts arrive. Floyd can’t find the appetite and is instead satisfied watching you eagerly receive your fruity drink and cake. He scoops a bite of pudding on his spoon and holds it out to you. Unsurprisingly, you scowl at it.

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a date, ain’t it? Gotta live up to your expectations.” And then, because he’s itching for your hands on him, whether to hit him or choke him out, he adds, “Shrimpy’s got some reeeal high standards.”

“Ugh. Gross. You’re the last person I’d want to feed me. And I’ve got my own food, thank you.”

“Ya sure? Should I manta it?”

“Should you what?” You fix him with a critical look, but he can see the interest bubbling beneath the thin veil of confusion.

“Y’know, manta it. Like this.” He moves his arm so that the spoon glides along an invisible current, moving smoothly like a manta ray. “Mama used to do that all the time when I didn’t wanna eat somethin’.”

“So the fish version of the airplane.”

“Eeh? That’s what humans do?”

You shrug. “It works.”

Floyd thinks he still prefers the manta. “Sooo. Wanna give it a try?” He’s itching to prove he can provide for you, even if it’s just pudding and not heaps and heaps of fish or an entire shark carcass.

You eye his spoon warily. “What flavor is it?”

“Secret,” he hums, delighted.

“Fine. Just one bite.” You reach to grab it, but he moves his arm up and away.

“Nuh-uh. You gotta let me do it. Defeats the whole purpose if you do it yourself.”

You submit, albeit with a stubborn pout.

“Now say ‘aah’,” he prompts, thinking you might really swing your fist.

Begrudgingly, you lean in and open your mouth wide. “Aah.”

Floyd straightens up in his seat, his eyes the size of plates. He swallows thickly, curling his free hand into a fist. He feels his nails pierce his palm, sharpened points drawing the tiniest pricks of blood. You crack an eye open, all while your wide, impatient mouth gapes back at him.

“Never mind,” he mutters, stabbing the spoon into the pudding and shoving the dish at you. He avoids your searching eyes and instead burns quietly in the flames of his own embarrassed arousal.

“Ugh. I can’t believe I fell for such an obvious trick,” you scoff around a dainty bite of cake. “Honestly… Life was so much better before I found out you were my match.”

Awkwardly, he rubs the back of his neck. He could make dozens of home runs out of the depravity that’s become his thoughts, what with how frequently he’s batting them away. When he looks at his hand, he finds a thin membrane webbing between each of his fingers.

That can’t be good.

“You can have mine,” he blurts, nudging the pudding towards you. “’m not hungry.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t suppose you want something in return for your generosity?”

“What do ya have to offer?” he asks, swallowing the bucket of saliva pooling on his tongue. It coats his dry throat on the way down. He can’t think like this. Maybe he really is sick because you’re all he can smell right now. It’s like he’s zoned in on it, a shark drawn to blood. Nothing else matters. You’re the only Shrimpy in his sea.

Predators, he remembers, the reminder tacked onto his mental bulletin like an afterthought.

Restlessly, he glances about. He flexes his fingers, curling and uncurling them. Deep down he’s aware this doesn’t mean anything. You’re not his mate, but he wants to protect you anyway. That’s probably the last thing you want, though. You’re a capable Shrimpy. It’s one of your many strengths.

Still… It’s nice to pretend, if only for the moment.

“An actual date,” you say, sipping at your drink.

The way your lips close around the straw is so unintentionally erotic it brings him back to a few minutes ago, when you opened your mouth at him. He should’ve reciprocated, but then it wouldn’t have meant anything. Not to you, anyway.

To clear his head and hopefully cool his boiling temperature, he stuffs a spoonful of pudding in his mouth. It’s sugary but not nearly as much as he’s certain you are. If he licked a stripe up your neck, perhaps he’d know your taste for sure.

“Since we’re here, we might as well, right?” you add and he’s brought back to the present. “And then after that we never have to see each other again.”

“Uh-huh…”

He remains unconvinced. No matter how much you push him away, he’ll still be there to pop up and surprise you on campus.

He’s a bother, and you—sitting beautiful and shimmering in the glow of spring courtship—are everything he’s ever dreamed of.

So it’s definitely eggs, he decides, his mind made up. How else can he explain the smell and the softness, all tell-tale signs of a mate in waiting?

Floyd has never been one to pursue smooth seas, preferring the euphoria of a hard-earned success. But Sea Witch below does he wish today wasn’t so challenging. How is he supposed to express everything in his heart if you can’t even read his body language? He’s not even sure if he can gauge yours. Do you want to mate with him? That’s why you prettied up your fins and…

No.

No, no, no.

He has to remember this is a blind date. You had no idea it was going to be him and neither did he. He wants to come out and say it because the complexities of moray courtship are struggling to get through the muddiness of your own human signs.

It occurs to Floyd he could just cast a spell so that his thoughts are broadcasted to you and he can read yours. But that’s a dirty trick, one that would be heavily frowned upon in the sea and perhaps even on land as well. It’s all so complex. He doesn’t have the energy for all of this thinking.

With a petulant whine, he melts onto the table in a puddle of pouty Floyd.

You raise a questioning brow and finish off the rest of your cake. “I’m eating your pudding so it doesn’t go to waste.”

He waves you off. “Don’t got much of an appetite for it anyway.”

“Suit yourself.” Shrugging, you take a bite and hum in delight. The tiny smile that traces your lips stuns him.

Oh.

He’s never seen you smile like that before… Usually, if you’re smiling, it’s one of malice—directed at him and accompanied with the threat of a clenched fist.

From where his head rests against the table, he’s free to admire you and your gluttony. Will this be enough? If you have eggs, you need to eat so much more than a measly slice of cake and some pudding.

But before he can call the waiter over to order everything on the menu, there’s a loud tearing sound and then a heavy flop. He glances behind him and finds his tail is protruding from his lower back like a thick, winding snake. It thumps against the ground in anticipation, almost as if it’s wagging.

That’s fun!

“So,” he starts, lifting his head to look at you properly. He remembers something you told him over text, when it was well past midnight and the both of you had strayed into more private discussions. “Shrimpy’s never had her first kiss, hm?”

“And it’s not going to be with you, so don’t even try,” is your scathing comeback.

Fuck, he wants you.

A wild grin breaks out on his face, sharpening in time with the fins that pop out from his ears. Crisp sounds rush in all at once, as if the cotton has been tugged out. Traffic, nearby conversations, the shush-shush of the waves crashing against the rocks. He pulls a face at the cacophony assaulting his hyper-sensitive ear-fins.

You stare at him. “You’re…green.”

“Huh?”

But then his fins shred through his sleeves and it becomes apparent his mer features are starting to poke through his human disguise. Teal flashes across his skin in speckled patches, swallowing up what’s left of his previously pale coloration.

This is odd because, as much as he despises it, he choked back that nasty potion just a few days ago to avoid this exact scenario. What gives?

It’s in this transitional stage, the space between half-human, half-mer, that the haze really settles in. Floyd staggers to his feet, rifling around for his wallet, and slams a fistful of bills down. It’s getting bad. He needs something he can’t have, and if he spends any more time here…

“We should go,” you say before he can, already out of your chair. “You need to get back to school or… Well, I guess if it comes down to it we can go to Craneport and throw you in the water there. It’s not too far from here.”

“Aww. Worried I’m gonna dry out?” He manages a casual tone despite the heat bubbling in his blood.

“As if. I just don’t want to haul your heavy eel ass around.” Scoffing, you step out from under the shade of the umbrella.

Just in time for the first few droplets of rain to come pattering down. You and Floyd glance skyward before sharing a quiet look. He extends his hand to catch a few drops on his palm.

“Look at that. The weather wants us to stay together,” he remarks, delirious.

“Even the universe wants us to split,” you speak over him.

“Hee-hee. The universe’s gonna hafta try harder than that. This is nothin’.”

As if in response to his challenge, lightning flashes across the sky in a crackling arc. It’s quickly followed by deep, rumbling thunder. Again, you and Floyd eye each other. His wide, toothy grin makes you frown. But that becomes the least of your worries when a smattering of rain comes pouring down on both of you.

You gasp, your hands flying up to protect yourself. “My clothes! My hair!”

Floyd watches you fall into a panicked sprint, his tail swishing to and fro. He doesn’t care about the many stares he’s starting to draw when he takes off after you, his obnoxious laughter echoing down the path. His clothes are already ruined. A rainstorm isn’t going to make any difference.

You take shelter in an alley, beneath an awning shared by conjoined buildings. Just beyond, a steady curtain of rain falls. Floyd marvels at it with a whistle. What a downpour… The forecast didn’t say anything about rain, but then he supposes that’s normal for springtime on land.

“As if this day couldn’t get any worse,” he hears you mutter. Floyd’s gaze pans from the slick street to you and finds you’re shivering. Your arms are wrapped around yourself and his mismatched eyes travel down, down, down.

Your blouse is clinging to your body and through the sopping fabric he can see the frilly outline of your bra. Unconsciously, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He tastes sweat-tinged rain as it trails down his face in salty streaks. When he brushes his matted hair out of his eyes—and it feels more like he’s draped a mop of seaweed over his head—he finds you’ve lowered your arms and are now attempting to check your makeup with a pocket mirror.

“Nooo. I spent so much time on it, too…”

Can you get any cuter? If he could afford just the smallest peek, maybe he’d see what type of panties you’re wearing. Are they as lacy as your bra? Are they thin like it, too, allowing him to see the pebbled peaks of your nipples poking through?

Damn it all to the deepest trench! Floyd can’t take it anymore! He needs to know.

“How big is it?” he blurts, grabbing your shoulders. He’s careful not to dig his claws into you, even though his instincts are telling him to shred that silky blouse to ribbons, snap through the strap of your bra with a voracious chomp, and make you his. But you’re precious, not prey, and so he’ll try to exercise some restraint.

You blink back at him in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

“You know…” he trails off in hopes that you’ll fill in the empty space.

“No, I don’t.” You shake him off, but he’s quick to latch onto your wrists next. “Seriously, I don’t! What’s gotten into you? You’re acting weird.”

Floyd inhales through his nose. A bad move because your pheromones or perfume—whatever the fuck it is—invade his senses all over again. He can’t keep swatting the inevitable away. It’s only a matter of time before his biology incapacitates him. But while he’s still semi-coherent he’s going to take this opportunity to tell you everything that’s been on his mind ever since he first saw you.

That’s the plan, at least. How much of it he intends to follow, good question.

You’re staring at him like he’s lost his mind and maybe he has, drenched and looking like a teal Godzilla. He pulls back to rake his hands through his soaked hair.

“Y-Your clutch,” he mutters. “Can never tell in human form.”

“My…clutch. You want to know how big my clutch is. As in, like, eggs?”

“Mhm.”

He avoids looking at you out of sheer embarrassment—this sort of thing requires tact and sly communication, not direct fumbling that could be borderline begging—so he can’t imagine what expression you might be making. There’s a long, drawn out silence. He prepares himself to be slapped or berated—maybe both.

You touch his arm gingerly. He peers at you.

“If you were struggling, say so. Gosh, you’re so stubborn.”

Warmth and concern are hidden in those criticizing eyes. Even though your tone feels more like a scolding, it lifts his mood to know you care. He’d tease you for it, but he’s just not feeling it right now.

Floyd shakes off his reservations like a dog drying itself. For once, he doesn’t know what to say or do as he watches you through lidded eyes.

“I don’t really understand what’s going on, but you don’t feel good, right?” At that, he offers a small nod. “You were forcing yourself this entire time. Why didn’t you just leave? Why stick around and suffer?”

“Cuz Shrimpy was really lookin’ forward to this. Didn’t wanna disappoint ya.”

He wanted to impress you, show you that he’s a worthy mate, but that feels impossible now. With his back to the wall, he slides down until he’s sitting on the wet pavement. He’ll probably change back into a moray mer soon. Maybe the rain is delaying it. Maybe it’s the magical properties of the potion regulating what’s left of his human form.

You step into his line of sight then. His gaze travels up your stocking-clad legs. Before he can picture what’s beneath your skirt, you’re crouching down to view him. “I don’t think it matters whether you disappoint me or not.”

Yeah, it does. It matters cuz I like ya and want ya to have a good time.

“So you don’t have eggs,” he says, switching topics.

You sigh. “Yes, Floyd, I don’t have eggs. I’ve never had eggs. Not in the way you’re thinking. Humans don’t lay eggs.”

He knew that. Learned it in land boot camp. A shame. You’d look adorable saddled with a clutch or two.

But if that’s not the case, what’s with your smell? It can’t be perfume. Even the strongest of scents can’t compare to this. This is a sweetness that’s coming from between your legs, he’s sure of it.

You’re reaching into your purse now. “What’s Azul’s number? I’ll give him a call. Don’t push yourself.”

His tail moves without thinking, coiling around your waist to drag you closer. The force of it knocks you forward. With a startled yelp, you shoot your arms out to brace yourself against the wall, unintentionally caging him in. He gazes up at you, an unfocused stare that you hold with newfound intensity.

“Floyd,” you breathe, and he can see you’re scanning his face for answers.

Gently, you run your fingers over the dark swirls on his cheekbones. He gives a full-body shudder in response, biting back an enthusiastic trill when your touches trail to his ear-fins. He flexes his tail and squeezes your waist. He shouldn’t let it go further than this.

But if he does he could finally have you.

“I’ll help. Whatever this is, I’ll…do my best.”

Now it’s his turn to be confused. “You sure?”

You glance at his lap. Floyd follows your line of sight to find his cock pressed prominently against his pants. You swipe his hair back and hold your hand to his forehead.

“You’re burning up! Why would you even come out in the first place if you’re so sick?”

“Didn’t think it’d get this bad.”

You huff. “You’re unbelievable. Aren’t you scared?”

“Course not. How can I be when Nurse Shrimpy is takin’ good care of me?” He tries a playful smirk, but it falls short into a grimace.

“Whatever.” A serious look passes over your face next. “I’m not sure what to do, but… But I think it’s safe to…to do it. That’s what you need, isn’t it?”

Floyd drags you into his lap. “More or less, yeah.”

He doesn’t have to get into the details. That’s for future Floyd to explain…or not.

“Okay. Then… Hurry up and get it over with. The rain’s cold.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll warm ya up.”

“If I get sick from this, I’ll kill you.”

“Hee-hee.”

You shift awkwardly, searching for the right rhythm when you press down against his erection. Floyd hisses through his teeth. It almost doesn’t seem real. He thinks he can feel your pussy through your panties, and he wonders if they’re just wet from the rain or from something else. While you roll your hips, his hands move up to fiddle with the buttons on your blouse. It’s significantly harder to undo them when his claws are long and curved, and in a fit of impatience he grabs hold of the fabric and yanks it open. It comes away with a rip, buttons popping off and exposing your rain-slick skin and bra, much to his minacious delight.

“Floyd!” You yelp as he tips you backwards, pressing you against the cobbled ground. This new position allows him to slot himself between your legs, where he ruts like a mindless animal.

“I’ll get you a new one,” he promises, his mouth laving over your neck.

He just barely remembers to tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock, now more moray in structure, the shaft tinted teal and peppered with dozens of nubs. He nearly shreds through his underwear when his claws catch on the waistband. All you can manage is an aggrieved whine, which soon tapers off into a low moan when the head of his cock bumps against your clit.

“Off.”

“Wait, wait! I’ll do it. This is my nicest pair—don’t you dare ruin them.”

He’s sure they’re nice, but right now he doesn’t have time to appreciate them in full. He needs to be inside you or else he’ll pass out. The want is unbearable. Fuck, he wishes this was the sea. It would be easier to entice you there, with colors and scents and shows of strength. It’s way too complicated on land.

Your panties aren’t even halfway down your legs before he’s burrowing himself between your soft folds. It feels better than anything he’s ever known before. You’re warm and gooey inside, squeezing him like you’re intent on snapping his dick in half. And suddenly he can’t think or speak. Everything is blank as he grabs your hips and pulls you down. Your pussy swallows him up in one reckless thrust, and you squeak in surprise when it knocks against your deepest part. He feels your arms wrap around his neck, your legs twisting around his waist, and you cling to him like you’re afraid the storm will sweep you away.

He can’t muster another second of patience or restraint, so he slams in and out of you at an erratic pace, chasing the euphoric bliss that’ll finally satisfy every instinct buzzing beneath his skin.

“S-Slow down, Floyd! I ca—aah��can’t! S’too much,” you babble and dig your nails into his back, which only serves to embolden the brutal snap of his hips against yours.

“Shorry,” he rasps against your skin, his mouth watering with so much drool it drips in fat, warm drops and puddles in the slope between shoulder and neck.

He’s a pathetic moray. He can’t even offer you a nice cave to curl up in. He can’t even manage the patience to prepare you, to work you up until you’re glistening with desire. The best he can do is this filthy alley during the worst weather ever, and even then it’s far from romantic.

To offer you a modicum of comfort, he slides his tail beneath you to raise your ass for a better angle and provide a pillow for your head. You cry out a string of incoherent words. He pants against your pulse, the little heartbeat pounding in time with his own.

It’s wet and filthy and desperate. He’s not even sure if he’s breathing. All he knows is that he needs to fill you until you’re heavy with his seed, until your pussy weeps nothing but cum. You can’t walk around with your fins all prettied up, smelling like a sweet treat, attracting the worst kinds of predators with each step. If you smell more like him—if every inch of you is marked by him—no one else would dare to approach you. He’ll make damn sure of it.

Oh, that’s what this is.

Mating season.

Perhaps he could’ve gotten it out of his system if he stayed on campus and swam laps in Octavinelle’s special pool. He’s not used to feeling it in spring, but then his cycle has never followed any set schedule. It’s only this bad because he saw you—because he caught your scent and it flipped the switch in his brain, the one that’s screaming at him to breed his mate.

Because that’s what you are, even if you don’t know it yet.

That’s what you’re going to be. Biology won’t give you a choice.

Floyd grits his teeth, his pace mostly uneven now. He won’t bite. He’s not sure he can control his strength, and if he sinks his teeth into you what’s stopping him from tearing the flesh from your bones? Instead, he presses sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to the space above your heart. His arms twist tightly around you to keep you trapped in place.

It’s fine if you think he’s scum or the worst moray in the Coral Sea.

Nothing is more titillating than a challenge.

Wrapped up in you and your hypnotic scent, your breathless voice in his ears, he cums so hard his vision whites out. You seem to have done the same, for your pussy clenches like a vise, rendering you boneless beneath him.

The haze in his head is dizzying. He blinks until color returns and that’s when he tugs your skirt up to see where you’re connected. He’s buried snugly inside, keeping all of his cum plugged deep. Your chest rises and falls with every wheezing gasp, and in this moment you are so fragile he thinks you might shatter if he fucks into you without warning again.

A feral smile widens on his lips.

“Hey, Shrimpy.” He nudges your cheek until your head lolls to the side. He knows you’re still conscious because your eyes, ringed with ruined eyeliner, find his. “There you are. Don’t fall asleep on me, ’kay?”

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

He leans in close. “Didja know? You came to this li’l date smellin’ suuuper sweet and I came sick.”

It takes a moment for you to register his words, but when you do all you can provide is an intelligent: “Huh?”

His hands settle on your spread legs, claws digging shallowly into the meat of your thighs. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Wha… I don’t…” You shake your head. “Don’t get it.”

“Hee-hee. Did I fuck all the brains outta ya? Oops. Guess you’ll figure it out later then.”

We’re each other’s cure, he thinks, his form shadowing yours.

And now a mated pair.

#HAPPY MERMAY FLOYB LOVERS!!!!#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd #yandere floyd leech x reader #yandere floyd x reader #n/sfw #tw: breeding

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dakusan · 1 month ago

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hi hi !!

i love love love ur vamp!skz universe and im wondering if you’ll tell us how each boys got turned?? im sorry if you’ve already done this and ive just missed it, but im soooo invested in this universe i MUST know how they all got turned.

you’re an amazing writer and i’m looking forward to indulging in this universe even more<333

OOOOHHHH THIS IS THE BLOODLINE QUESTION OF THE CENTURY 🔥🩸

thank you—you’ve just opened the coffin door and unleashed the origin lore of each vampire boy.

and yes, babe, I will give it to you. And since we’re already howling under this moon, I’m taking the chance to give you the full profiles of every member:

· · ��─────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🕯️ VAMPIRE!SKZ LORE: ORIGIN + CHARACTER FILES

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 // Abnormal — The Leader

Born Abnormal. Eldest son of the legendary Bahng bloodline.

🩸 Blood Type Preference: A+ — says it tastes like control. 🩸 Bite Spot: Neck or heart. Always leaves a mark. 🩸 Risk Level: High. Do not lie to him.

Bahng Bloodline: A dynasty of Abnormal vampires known for intellect, power, and empire-building. They're respected, feared, and so fucking tired.

Occupation: CEO. Medical empire overlord.

❖ EMPIRE OVERVIEW

1. 𝐋𝐔𝐗𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇 Flagship Reach: 13 facilities worldwide (Seoul, NYC, Geneva, Dubai, Tokyo, Singapore, Berlin…) What it is: A network of luxury medical campuses and trauma centres that function like private sovereign kingdoms. What it offers:

Elite trauma response units (some vamp-only),

Surgical wings equipped with vampire-safe tools,

Discreet blood-donor programs for feeding complications,

24/7 hybrid maternal wards,

Enchanted ICU rooms for patients with volatile magical signatures,

Postpartum sanctums.

How it runs: Every doctor, intern, and nurse is background-screened magically and politically. No one gets in without blood-clearance. And every building is rigged with silent security enchantments known only to Chan.

2. 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐒 HQ: Underground beneath an ��abandoned” teaching hospital in Osaka Employees: 83 total—47 scientists, 13 vampires, 6 war criminals turned researchers, 1 talking AI What it does: High-clearance research on:

Abnormal vampire genetics,

Inter-species fertility + gestation,

Soul-bond chemistry,

Venom therapies and neural reprogramming,

Rage-state prediction and pre-hormonal suppression formulas.

3. 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 HQ: Seoul, hidden behind a high-end tech startup Subsidiaries: 9 licensed shell firms, 3 black-market syndicates What it sells: Top-tier, vampire-adaptive medical tech. Some legal. Some… not. Main Products:

Vamp-compatible IV systems (no iron spike, scent-neutral tubing),

Hemoclot gauze: used in abnormal labour + field trauma,

Self-stitching scalpels: close tissue in 0.3 sec,

Bite inhibitors: prevent fatal overfeeding during sex or rage episodes,

Feeding suppression cuffs: rare, restricted, and locked behind magefire clearance.

4. 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 Established: Over 150 years ago under another name. Current Holdings: Over 70 registered shell companies, 200+ shadow contracts, assets in 11 global sectors Main Focus:

Vampire security firms,

Blood currency exchange management,

High-level scent encryption tech,

Strategic real estate purchases near bloodlines of interest,

Loyalty enforcement firms (aka very legal hitmen with degrees).

5. 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒 + WHISPERS

Has scent ownership over 4 black-market vampire auction routes (never used them),

Secret shareholder in Hyeon-Bio, the largest supplier of iron-rich synthetic blood in Asia,

His personal blood vault is temperature-controlled and spell-locked.

⸺⟡⸺

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 // Abnormal — The Prince of Teeth

Born Abnormal. From an aristocratic vampire family.

🩸 Blood Type Preference: B — "B for bite me, baby." 🩸 Bite Spot: Inner thigh. Just to watch you twitch. 🩸 Risk Level: Extreme. Glamours first, fucks after.

Lee Family: Aristocratic Abnormal vampires so ancient their bloodline predates language. They believe in order, lineage, and old magic.

Occupation: Executive Director of Containment & High-Risk Retrieval

❖ 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 Minho is Luxe Health’s final option. He doesn’t run a hospital. He protects the entire machine. He operates in shadows—enforcing blood oaths, hunting threats, and handling bond-based emergencies no one else can touch.

What he actually does:

Tracks down rogue vampires who break hospital bonds or threaten mate pairs,

Personally retrieves stolen blood samples, escaped experimental subjects, and traitors,

Handles bond enforcement violations—especially vampire-hunter syndicates who target mates,

Interrogates internal security threats (very few of these leave intact),

Protects Chan without ever being asked to.

⸺⟡⸺

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 // Normal — The Enforcer

Born Normal. From a proud Normal vampire family.

🩸 Blood Type Preference: O- — calls it rare. treats it like a reward. 🩸 Bite Spot: Just below the ribs. Deep. Bruising. Precise. 🩸 Risk Level: Moderate—unless you're crying. Then he breaks.

Seo Family: Normal vampire family known for bodyguard bloodlines and brute loyalty. They don't scheme. They protect.

Enchanted Jewellery for Sun Protection: Dual silver hoop earrings. They keep him stable and sun-safe.

Occupation: Director of Hostile Containment & Physical Defence Operations

❖ 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 He’s not the planner. He’s the defence system. The vault. The riot wall.

What he actually does:

Leads containment units that subdue rogue vampires in medical environments,

Personally handles rage-state patients (he’s the only one strong enough to suppress them physically),

Trains Luxe staff in defensive protocols,

Keeps rage suppressant venom under strict lock—his blood is used in emergency antidote formulas.

⸺⟡⸺

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 // Abnormal — The Siren

Born Abnormal. Abnormal vampire mother. Human father. …and he never lets his dad forget it.

“You pulled my mother? With those weak human genes? Bro.”

🩸 Blood Type Preference: AB — says it's complicated, like you. 🩸 Bite Spot: Over your pulse point. Wrist. Neck. Inner thigh. 🩸 Risk Level: Lethal. Will make you beg, cry, and thank him.

Hwang Line: Hyunjin's mother: a high-ranking Abnormal vampire matriarch. Stunning, powerful, untouchable. His father: a human with no idea how he pulled her. Hyunjin roasting his dad is normal occurrence.

Occupation: Artist. Director of Sensory Magic & Bond-Stabilisation Therapy

❖ 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 Though he doesn't run anything, he's indispensable to the emotional architecture of Luxe Health.

What he actually does:

Oversees rooms where patients are emotionally unstable due to blood-bond trauma,

Performs ritual scent-mapping—helps bondmates reattach after mental collapse,

Creates magic-infused paintings used in trauma units to reduce psychic overload,

Monitors the sensory energy of Luxe hospitals, adjusting scent/sound magic,

Helps mate-pairs in distress by feeding them calm via shared dreaming

⸺⟡⸺

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 // Normal — The Shadow Walker

Turned vampire. Born human, loud as hell. Got turned by a Normal vampire who didn’t even mean to turn him.

“I was just gonna feed a little—I didn’t know you'd bite me back!” Woke up the next day like “why does the sun feel like betrayal?” and “why do I want to bite the cashier at 7-Eleven?”

🩸 Blood Type Preference: A— — "light, fast, makes me hungrier." 🩸 Bite Spot: Wherever you're exposed. Probably when you're distracted. 🩸 Risk Level: Unstable. You'll think you're in control. You're not.

Han Family: Chaotic, mortal home where the TV was always too loud and nobody ever knocked before entering. His mom still doesn’t know he’s a vampire. She just thinks he’s sensitive to light and drinks “imported beet juice.”

Enchanted Jewellery for Sun Protection: Chaotic collection of silver and black rings. They absorb sunlight, protect from UV shock, and stabilise his energy.

Occupation: Lead Hemalchemist & Magical Encryption Architect

❖ 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 Nocté Labs’ resident panic button + bloodcode architect

Cracks encrypted vampire contracts, binding curses, and genetic seals,

Designs venom modulation formulas for vampires in unstable emotional bonds.

What he actually does:

Designs blood-reactive compounds used in venom neutralisation, soulbond preservation, and hybrid pregnancy survival,

Synthesizes fetal-compensating serums,

Created the blood-matching algorithm used to stabilise inter-species transfusions,

Writes enchanment-locked medical codes for hospital tech (IV drips, blood storage, surgical authorisation),

Cracks cursed blood-seals and reversed magical bindings—like when a rogue vampire curses their own records,

Developed a venom-response biometric lock: doors open only when the right vampire's venom is present.

⸺⟡⸺

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 // Abnormal — The Dreamer

Born Abnormal. Abnormal bloodline from a solar house.

🩸 Blood Type Preference: AB+ — "dreamers always taste sweeter." 🩸 Bite Spot: Over the heart. Tops of breasts. 🩸 Risk Level: Soft until he isn’t. You won’t wake up the same.

Lee Family: An Abnormal rare bloodline from a Solar House, steeped in dream-magic, prophecy, and radiant aura work. Soft-spoken, terrifyingly intuitive, and believe that every dream is a message.

Occupation: Director of Bond Stabilisation & Post-Feeding Regulation (Luxe Health)

❖ 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 Where Chan leads, Minho protects, and Jisung breaks systems—Felix heals the aftermath.

What he actually does:

Monitors vampire feeding patterns to prevent overbinding, venom addiction, or withdrawal,

Performs post-bond stabilisation rituals for mate pairs,

Oversees emotional syncing in new hybrid families.

⸺⟡⸺

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 // Normal — The Beloved

Born Normal. Normal x Normal vampire family.

🩸 Blood Type Preference: A+ — "clean. sharp. predictable." 🩸 Bite Spot: Inner arm. Slowly. Like he's reading you. 🩸 Risk Level: High for overthinkers. He'll see through you.

Kim Family: A sweet, clean Normal x Normal vampire household where everything is labelled and dinner happens at 6PM. They believe in civility, stability, and passive-aggressive policy memos.

Enchanted Jewellery for Sun Protection: A minimalist silver hex-pendant with diamond facets (Chaumet's Bee My Love necklace). Blocks UV. Cancels glamours. Magical lie detection, it vibrates softly if someone isn't being truthful.

Occupation: Director of Medical-Legal Integrity & Bond Law Arbitration (Luxe Health)

❖ 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 He is the law inside the blood. Where Chan builds, Minho eliminates, and Hyunjin dreams—Seungmin makes it all function.

What he actually does:

Handles disputes between vampires and blood donors—usually ends with someone glamoured or gutted,

Is one of three licenced enforcers allowed to break a soulbond if needed (he hates it),

Reviews all new Luxe Health experiments, hybrid procedures, and blood treatments,

Vetos anything that violates consent, autonomy, or emotional safety,

Investigates feeding misconduct, glamoured coercion, or illegal bond formation,

Oversees background screenings for every single hospital staff member.

⸺⟡⸺

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍 // Normal (Evolving Abnormal) — The Smile with Fangs

Born Normal. Normal x Normal vampire family. Supposed to stay that way. Except… things started happening.

His aura began distorting.

His heartbeat slowed.

His veins started glowing when he was hungry.

🩸 Blood Type Preference: "Yours is the only one that matters." 🩸 Bite Spot: Whatever he sees first. He can’t wait. 🩸 Risk Level: Unknown. His blood hums. And so does the dark.

Yang Family: Normal x Normal vampire lineage. Steady. Safe.

Occupation: Junior Bond Support Specialist, Luxe Health

❖ 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 He is the law inside the blood. Where Chan builds, Minho eliminates, and Hyunjin dreams—Seungmin makes it all function.

What he actually does:

Works under Felix's supervision to comfort patients post-bonding trauma,

Learns how to manage bond flares, withdrawal symptoms, and memory bleed,

Smells emotions better than most normals—Felix suspects this is early Abnormal scent-mapping,

Occasionally enters micro trance states while feeding — Abnormal memory-linking? Still undocumented.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🩸 BONUS SCENE — HOW HAN JISUNG GOT TURNED

It started at a club. Of course it did.

Jisung was 21, overly cocky, and two shots past good judgment. She was glowing—red dress, dark eyes, and a stare like she knew things. He asked if she wanted to dance. She asked if he tasted good.

They ended up at his place.

Clothes flew. Lights flickered. Neck-kissing intensified. Somewhere between a moan and a joke, she sank her fangs into him without warning. Jisung yelped, swore, and out of pure chaotic panic—he bit her right back.

Like. Fully chomped her shoulder.

Not seductively. Not vampirically. Just… human instinct + rage + horny adrenaline.

“YOU BIT ME, I BITE BACK. IT’S CALLED BOUNDARIES—”

She laughed so hard she fell off the bed. Then vanished.

And Jisung? He woke up 12 hours later, naked, on the floor, with the blinds open and his skin sizzling like bacon.

The bite on his neck was half-healed, but his teeth ached, his heartbeat was missing, and he couldn’t stop hearing the guy next door crying about his failed Tinder date.

And the fridge? The fridge was screaming. Not audibly. But energetically. Emotionally. Spiritually. The pickles had rage. The oat milk was mourning.

His dog wouldn't come near him (he took that personally).

He lasted twenty minutes before shoving on sweatpants, three pairs of sunglasses, and a bucket hat and speed-walking to the ER like a man possessed.

He burst through the ER doors like a disaster.

“I think I’m dying. Or I’m already dead. Or the pickles are gaslighting me.”

A nurse screamed. A security guard passed out. And one intern fainted when his eyes glowed after yelling “WHAT’S IN THE BLOOD BAGS?!”

They restrained him. Badly.

Cue, Bang Chan.

He got called.

He stood in the doorway with one brow raised, arms crossed, as Jisung sat on the hospital bed with two nurses passed out and an empty blood bag in his lap.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jisung asked.

Chan blinked. “You bit back, didn’t you.”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“Yeah. Got laid, got bit, and you panicked. Bit her back?”

“SHE STARTED IT.”

Chan nodded, pulled out a tablet, and typed something.

“Congratulations. You turned yourself. That’s rare. Stupid, but rare.”

They had to sneak him out of the hospital to a Luxe Health affiliate facility. Chan handed him a velvet-lined box with five mismatched silver and black rings.

“These are panic-forged. Calibrated to your blood and neurochemical spikes. Wear them or burn.”

“Will they help with the milk screaming?”

“Eventually.”

Jisung put them on. The room stopped spinning. The fluorescent lights stopped crying. He exhaled for the first time in 12 hours.

“Okay. So now what?”

Chan smirked.

"Now you either implode, or you figure out how to live with it. You seem like a lab rat. We'll see."

Jisung didn’t implode. He started reading. Obsessively. And then coding vampire encryption algorithms just to “see if he could.”

He broke into Nocté’s internal database within four days. By day five, Chan hired him.

“You’re annoying, unstable, and your emotional energy shorts out half our security systems… but you’re a genius. Don’t make me regret this.”

"Too late."

He became Lead Hemalchemist & Magical Encryption Architect six months later. Still wears the rings. Still talks to his dog. Still hasn’t told his mom.

“What happened to the vampire woman?”

“No clue. Hope she’s well. Hope she’s confused.”

“Hope she’s telling people ‘he bit me back’ and they think she’s joking.”

🩸 And that’s how Han Jisung became a vampire. No destiny. No plan. Just sex, panic and bite reflex. Rest? History.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🦇 HOW CHAN MET THE KIDS

HAN JISUNG

How they met: ER. 9AM. Chaos. Jisung walked into the hospital like a possessed cryptid. He had a half-healed bite on his neck, glowing eyes, and a blood bag clutched like a Capri-Sun. Bang Chan got paged. He arrived to find two unconscious nurses, one passed-out intern, and Jisung blinking up innocently. They sedated him with sugar cubes and sarcasm, smuggled him out through the supply exit, and brought him to a Luxe Health affiliate. Chan handed him a box of black-and-silver enchanted rings.

Bonded over: Neurotoxin theory, cursed coding, and shared chaos energy. By Day 4, Jisung hacked Nocté’s database. By Day 5, he was hired. By Month 6, he was Lead Hemalchemist & Magical Encryption Architect. Still unstable. Still a genius.

⸺⟡⸺

SEO CHANGBIN

How they met: A rooftop brawl in Busan. Chan was handling rogue vampire surveillance. Found a hulking figure beating the unlife out of two ferals with nothing but his fists and a cursed trash can lid. Turns out Changbin, a Normal vampire, had taken one look at some ferals harassing a kid and gone full WWE. Chan stepped in. Changbin squared up. “You next?” Chan: “God no. I’m here to offer you a job.” Changbin: “...Do I get dental?” Chan: “You don’t need teeth cleaning, but sure.”

Bonded over: Heavy lifting. Shared distaste for drama. Emergency planning. Mutual respect. He’s now Chief of Enforcement & Containment. Still punches through walls.

⸺⟡⸺

LEE MINHO

How they met: Chan was tracking a rogue diplomat who’d gone dark in the southern city sectors. What he found instead was a blood-soaked apartment, two neutralized traitors, and one barefoot vampire sitting on the kitchen counter eating strawberries like nothing happened. Minho didn’t look up. Just said, “You’re late. I cleaned already.” Chan: “You kill them?” Minho: “They tried to touch my cat.” Chan blinked. The cat blinked. The corpses did not.

Bonded over: Deadpan sarcasm. Precision. The mutual understanding that some monsters are better on your side. Also: they both hate unnecessary meetings and love sharp tailoring. Minho now runs the most feared branch of Luxe Health. Executive Director of Containment & High-Risk Retrieval. If you go rabid, defect, break a pact, or bite a diplomat? He’s the one they send.

⸺⟡⸺ LEE FELIX

How they met: In a lucid dream. No, literally. Chan fell asleep in a cursed zone and woke up in a dreamspace filled with glowing doors and ocean sounds. Felix was sitting in the middle of it, braiding golden threads into a circle. Felix: “Took you long enough. I saw this meeting six months ago.” Chan: “...Am I dead?” Felix: “No. But your shirt is ugly.”

Bonded over: Dream magic. Prophetic patterns. Moonlight rituals. Felix later appeared IRL at Nocté’s doorstep holding a blood map and a smoothie. Now Director of Bond Stabilisation & Post-Feeding Regulation at Luxe Health. Monitors bond integrity across blood partnerships. Specializes in emotional imprinting post-bite and venom-laced intimacy fallout. Sleeps more than he's awake.

⸺⟡⸺

HWANG HYUNJIN

How they met: Chan was called in to calm a rogue Abnormal with volatile sensory magic wreaking havoc in a high-rise studio gallery. The paintings were screaming. The scent of memory was leaking from the floors. And one of the interns claimed her lipstick was whispering her secrets. Chan stepped into the center of the room—and found Hyunjin barefoot, shirt half-painted, surrounded by levitating canvases and crying brushes. “Hi,” Hyunjin said. “Do you ever get so emotional your aura starts painting without you?” Chan blinked. “You need containment protocol.” Hyunjin tilted his head. “I need better brushes.”

Bonded over: Chaos, controlled burnouts, the sanctity of beauty, and how the council has no taste. Chan offered him a role. Hyunjin agreed—on the condition that no one ever touches his sketchbooks and he gets a studio. Now Director of Sensory Magic & Bond-Stabilisation Therapy (Luxe Health) but also Resident aesthetic menace. Full-time artist.

⸺⟡⸺

KIM SEUNGMIN

How they met: Chan was giving a very serious presentation on venom-resistance protocols to the Vampire Medical Council. Seungmin raised his hand mid-sentence and went: “Your math’s wrong. Your fourth slide contradicts your second.” Chan: “…Excuse me?” Seungmin: “Also your tie is ugly. Continue.” They argued. For 47 minutes. In public. Chan’s eye twitched so hard his glamour nearly cracked. He hired Seungmin out of spite. Seungmin accepted out of boredom. He’s been judging everyone since.

Bonded over: Sarcasm, obsessive data ethics, filing council complaints just to see if they get read. Official Director of Medical-Legal Integrity & Bond Law Arbitration (Luxe Health). Has blackmail on everyone. Including Chan.

⸺⟡⸺

YANG JEONGIN

How they met: He just… showed up. No seriously. One day he walked into Nocté Labs asking for internship credit. Said he was Normal. Blood test disagreed. He broke a lab door with his smile. Chan: “You’re Awakening.” Jeongin: “Cool. Can I still work part-time?” Chan: “Sure, just don’t explode.” Jeongin: “No promises.”

Bonded over: Snark. Surprising feral strength. Jeongin mocking everyone’s drama while secretly becoming the most terrifying one. Currently in training. Awakening into something… dangerous. Still uses emojis in reports. Current role is Junior Bond Support Specialist, Luxe Health under Felix.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

sweetfang. chaos-summoner. thank you for this ask I blacked out. Woke up with 13k+ words and bloodlust in my coffee.

did I go overboard? probably. do I regret it? absolutely not. do I hope you read it under a blanket at 3AM whispering “oh my god”? yes. yes I do.

this universe has fangs now and you helped feed it. so drink deep, dream wild, and remember: 🩸Han Jisung got turned by biting back during sex. 🩸Bang Chan owns a hospital empire and your soul. 🩸Jeongin showed up like a glitch.

🖤 stay haunted, stay hungry

#ask dakusan #vampire!skz lore #vampire!skz series #vampire!skz x reader #skz #stray kids #bang chan #lee know #changbin #han jisung #hyunjin #lee felix #seungmin #jeongin

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severedfromthesource · 2 months ago

Text

Without

Cohl has been down a long time before Yui can get to him, but he refuses to give up. No matter what logic dictates. Features M resus, M rescuer, mechanical CPR, intubation, prolonged resus, hypothermia, drowning.

He couldn't even remember why they were diving in the middle of this godforsaken planet. Drowned treasure? Some ancient alien wreckage? All Yui knew as he piloted the little drone sub down the black depths was that Cohl hadn't responded on comms in a very long time. They'd exceeded the point he'd told Yui to find him if he didn't respond, and gone well past it in the twenty minutes it took him to even find the spot the Captain had dove to. The GPS and radar systems didn't play well with the planet's near constant electrical storms. When he did at last find the ship, he drove the submersible until the lights finally caught a flash of something reflective in the dark. His heart seized. Cohl was lying on his side on a platform outside the sub he'd taken down, unmoving. In an instant he snatched him up into the drone sub's hull and drove the thing as fast as he could back up to the waiting Hawk. Her bay opened up to recieve the little craft and he tore open the door as water sloshed out.

Yui heaved his Captain's sopping wet body onto a stretcher. His usually deep bronze skin was ashen, and he looked so utterly dead that it took everything inside the second in command to not burst into tears. The stretcher rose on its thrusters and he shoved it towards the Medbay. All the while he chattered to the ship's intelligence system, "How's he looking? How long has he been without oxygen?" "Body temperature is extremely low. Patient is in full cardiac and respiratory arrest, no BP or oxygen saturation. His suit marked the start of the cardiac event." Yui's stomach lurched. He asked quietly, "How long has He been down?" "37 minutes," replied the Hawk's comms. His legs went weak at the knees and he nearly fell. Adrenaline pushed him forward, careening into the medical unit. No wonder he looked like a corpse. He'd been one the entire time Yui was looking for him. He'd hoped, somehow, the oxygen reserves would last a bit longer than the projection. Cohl was lucky like that. Luck only got you so far with faulty equipment.

He slammed the levitating gurney into the dock and the medical system hummed to life. Another intelligence system with a masculine voice to contrast the Hawk's system piped up from the hub, "Warning, Code Blue. Warning, Code Blue." "I know, goddamnit," Yui sobbed, the strength going out of him for a brief moment. He almost crumpled over the side of the gurney as a sob bubbled up. He had to grip the railing and control his voice enough to say, "Start resuscitative protocol." "Patient's system has high levels of-" "Get him back!" he spat, jamming the controls until he got to the screen for the revival procedures. He blindly jabbed at any prompt, initiating CPR, defib on standby, airway, IV push with both epinephrine and adrenaline queued once the line was established.

He started cutting away the wetsuit clinging tightly to his Captain's clammy skin, so frozen and stiff he nearly lost it again to touch him. Every inch of exposed skin was cold and gray where it should have been warm and brown. The only color to his skin was the blue and purple edged around his lips. His stomach distended slightly from water inhalation. Yui continued to run the shears through the side seam of the fabric, under his armpit and down to where it ended at his ankle. He pulled away the shorn fabric from underneath his still body and discarded it, leaving him bare under the harsh lights of the Medbay, making him look all the paler as it caught on the rivulets of water collecting here and there in the dips and hollows. Yui planted his hands over the too firm and too round stomach and shoved down, expelling a gush of foaming white seawater from his slack lips and nose. He did this a few times, shuddering as Cohl gurgled and grunted with dead lungs. The Medbay's small mechanical arms and pincers moved about the body as it started an IV and raised the bed beneath his shoulders blades so his chest sat in a slight arch, forcing his head to tilt limply back. When Yui returned to the head of the gurney to clear away the foam from his face, he shivered to see his eyes had slid slightly open. "It's okay," he whispered as he dried off his lips and nose, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it to himself or his Captain.

"Beginning cardiopulmonary resuscitation," the system announced, sliding a thin band around Cohl's chest. In the middle of this sat a small rubber plunger, and in an instant the band was tightening in a vice and shoving the plunger against his sternum. His body rocked, the little device having a surprising amount of strength. It forced his shoulders to shrug inward, his arms rocking at his sides as his stomach, flattened by Yui's efforts, again bulged with displaced force. An additional arm lowered to pull his jaw open, easily sliding in a narrow breathing tube that split into two. A clip at the halfway point extended over his cheeks and mouth to hold it in place, and nearby a ventilator began breathing for him. The other tube in his throat suctioned out the remaining water and fluid in his throat, and for a moment the room was full of wet gurgling and squelching as the compression band beat against waterlogged lungs. Even when his airway was suctioned clear, Cohl still rasped out any air the ventilator fed him, the plastic tubing making each soft grunt whistle slightly.

Yui stood to the side of the mechanical assault. After punching in a few hypothermia procedures to be done alongside resuscitation, there wasn't much else he could do. He tried to help, tried to find something to do to not feel so useless, but the Medbay was an advanced system from a newer model of space cruiser than the Hawk, and most of a doctor's work was automated. It did a lot more than a failed med student could do. So he watched, his knuckles white around the bed railing, as Cohl was shifted and pounded into the back support like a ragdoll. The compression band made his head rock and he shifted to the side to slide a pillow underneath to hold him somewhat still. He couldn't stand watching the way his body bonelessly jerked and spasmed under the chest compressions. He glanced up at the monitors. A flatline, broken by the artificial pulse, raced across the nearest holo. His gaze slid to the cardiogram beside it. Cohl's heart was being squeezed, coiling and releasing in tandem with the machine, but the muscle didn't so much as twitch on its own. Yui pushed back dark hair from Cohl's lidded eyes for want of something to do with his hands.

One of the Medbay's arms implanted a small device over one of Cohl's kidneys, a port which connected to a suspended bag of saline. Heating coils hummed in the dispenser the IV liquid appeared from, and Yui could feel the table radiate a low warmth against Cohl's skin. He wanted to just crank the damn thing up, but knew he could easily kill him that way. As if he could get any deader. Cold, bloodless, without a pulse or respiration. He scrubbed his hand over his face to chase away the morbid thoughts. He dropped out of med school, but one thing had always stuck dealing with the cold: you're not dead until you're warm and dead. Medbay put his Captain's core temp at 75 degrees and climbing by minute percentiles. Not warm, and not dead. Not yet.

Machines pumped his heart, circulated his blood, filled his lungs, and some piece of hardware was in charge of his every vital organ. Yui told himself there was no way Cohl wasn't coming back. But the minutes crawled by. His body temp got to the upper 80s as the warm saline piped through his kidneys to heat up his bloodstream from the inside. His skin wasn't so wooden anymore, and although still noticeably cooler than usual, Yui could finally touch him without wincing. The band zipped in against his chest and pulsed through his upper body, his belly rising just a touch whenever the ventilator hissed oxygen into his lungs. There was no longer the wet sucking sound, which marked an improvement as well as his core body temp. At least his lungs were finally clear of water.

The minutes stretched on. He kept imagining Cohl in the dark, swallowed up by pitch black water, waiting for him. Drifting off. Laying dead on that platform for over half an hour. He checked the time marked on a nearby holo and flinched to see he'd been in cardiac arrest for an hour. His organs had been pumped and blood suffused for the latter half of that hour, and there hadn't been a sign of ventricular fibrillation, no improvement. Yui touched the cheek that finally had back some of its color. "Any change?" he asked as his voice cracked. "No change," announced the Medbay, "Patient is exhibiting a low level of brain activity, but no electrical activity in the heart. Temperature has risen another three points since last reading, and circulation to femoral and carotid seem to be unimpeded." Yui pressed down hard against Cohl's thigh and lower belly, squinting as he felt the pulse from the machine. "Yeah... Yeah blood is circulating. Push..." His chest felt too tight to speak and he pressed a bit harder into Cohl's femoral for the comfort of his pulse, even if it was one being forced on him. "Push another round of epi." It wasn't bound to be much help while his temp was still so low, but if he didn't do something, even just order something, he might break down completely. There had to be something he could do besides stand around like a jackass while machines jostled and pumped his body. Yui slid his hand under his Captain's neck, the other resting just above the thumper jamming down into his cracked sternum. He tried not to focus on the way his entire body seemed to pulse with each compression, or the way his throat flexed with each breath shoved into his lungs, unwilling to take up their own task.

"Surat," he whispered, invoking the name the illustrious Captain Cohl only ever trusted Yui with, "If you leave me alone in the middle of nowhere, I will never forgive you. If you-" His voice caught and he sagged over the rippling body, pressing his forehead to Cohl's cheek. He rubbed his hand gently over his clavicle as the thumper jabbed again and again at his heart. "Don't leave me," he pleaded in a quiet rasp, "Please... please, just come back." The warm saline had softened him again, raising his body temp enough he just seemed slightly cool to touch. Yui continued running his hand back and forth over the space just above the compression band as if in apology. It was, in a way. He hated doing all this to him. Every bit of it felt invasive and violent in a way he would never wish on the Captain he loved as dearly as anyone in his life. More than anyone, if he were honest with himself. Seeing his ribcage pulverized, his organs forced to function, the tubing and wires snaking from his body. One in his throat to make him breathe. One cycling saline through his kidneys. A catheter, also helping pump warm fluid through his system. He felt like he would break if he had to watch much longer, but knew he would never recover if he stopped the resuscitation efforts. He checked the temp gauge one more time. 90.9 glowed in red. A few more degrees and he would be in the normal range. Warm and dead. Yui shook his head, trying to clear it of that thought.

The code went on. The second in command had nothing to do, so he simply held Cohl's hand, trying to find comfort in the artificial pulse he could feel in his wrist. "Doctor Yui," the Medbay said after some time, though it was hard to tell just how long- he couldn't bring himself to look at the clock ticking down the seconds Cohl had been without a heartbeat. "Not a doctor," he sighed. "Noted. Commander Yui," the voice corrected. Suddenly the body went still. The automatic CPR stopped, and the heart monitor went from the rhythmic pip pip pip pip in time to the compressions to a long, flat whine. He sat bolt upright, jabbing at the controls. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. The controls had locked. He slapped at the RESUME button, but it wouldn't obey. "Patient has suffered a total lack of cardiac activity for two hours." Yui's blood went cold to hear that. The Medbay went on, "Protocol dictates the attending physician calls time of death and ceases all resuscitation efforts." "Don't you dare fucking stop," he snapped, trying to shift the compression band out of the way. It held firm. Yui cursed under his breath and awkwardly stuck his hands between Cohl's chest and the machine, shoving as well as he could. The plunger got in the way of actually pumping his heart, but he got as close as he could with the intrusion. He looked up pleading at the health display. "Please don't stop, just- he's got a chance, he was in subzero for long enough to preserve-" "Patient has had a temperature of 98 degrees for the past twenty minutes with no electrical activity." Bile rose in his throat. Indeed the display which marked his temperature was in the green, and still he had laid unmoving on the gurney, without even fibrillation to suggest his heart might remember how to beat. "Just a little while longer," Yui gasped out, shoving against Cohl's heart. "He's gonna come back, alright? He has to." He clutched the sides of his face and shook him slightly. "Surat, just fucking breathe, please! One breath, come on!" The ventilator stuck out from between his teeth, but this too had been stopped. Yui pulled his mouth open enough he could get somewhat around it, pressing their lips together as he pushed a breath into his throat. "Protocol dictates-" "Override then!" he shouted, returning to the display, "Override security code, fuck... s-security code 226784, Yui H-" "Insufficient clearance."

The stupid thing was designed for this exact situation. A doctor who didn't want to admit defeat. Who would keep a patient's heart beating and their lungs inflating until the ship lost power, because he was too stubborn and stupid to know when enough was enough. A higher ranking crew member would be the one to have to make the call on whether it could continue. But on the Hawk, it was just the two of them. It was always just the two of them. And the only person who could tell the Medbay to keep it up was the one laying pulseless on the table. Yui shoved a hand through his hair, his breath quickening. "Goddamnit, override security code-" Cohl only ever used two or three passwords repeated through computer systems on the ship. It had always been a huge security risk, but he was glad of it now. He tried, "Code 011289!" Cohl's birthday. "Invalid." He tried his mother's birthday. "Invalid." He tried the anniversary date of the day Cohl had adopted his dog back on Earth. "Invalid." A sob stole Yui's voice for a moment as he collapsed against the bed. His mind raced, heart thudding as he tried to think of what else his Captain might use, his blood rushing almost too loud to think. He again cupped his face, searching his slack features like he might have some answer to give him. Then, as a last resort, he quietly murmured, "Override security code... code 122492." "Override accepted. Would you like me to continue resuscitation?" He shuddered. The big idiot had used his birthday for the Medbay's systems. "Yes," Yui sobbed, pressing their foreheads together. "How long should efforts continue if there's no change?" "As long as it takes. Keep going."

Again his body spasmed under the compression band, again air hissed into the ventilation tube. Yui's gaze flickered over the body in front of him. Naked in a nest of wires and tubes. Bruised black and blue where the mechanical thumper pistoned into his chest. He pulled a sheet over his lower half to preserve some kind of dignity, but there was no dignity in assaulting a corpse like this. But he couldn't give up. Even if, by now, it felt less like giving up on him and more like letting him rest after a long, drawn out fight for his life. Tears ran warm down his cheeks and he shuddered in a breath. There was nothing he could do but wait for the inevitable warning on the ship's power supply, when he'd be forced to stop or risk shutting down the whole place. Until then...

Yui crawled onto the gurney beside his Captain as the compression band mechanically seesawed his body, making his stomach bulge when it hit. He laid down at his side, laying his head against his shoulder, which jerked underneath him with each thrust. Cohl's arm hung limp at his side, and he took his wrist and folded the limb over himself like a blanket. Like the embrace he'd only ever stolen during those nights of drinking and revelry, when Cohl would pull him into his body and he'd feel his warmth and smell the dust of some adventure on him. He smelled like salt water now, and antiseptic. Still, he curled in against him, the ripples and pulses of the machines serving to lull him into a trance like state. Yui slid an arm around his stomach as the thumper forced it to bob up and down, closing his eyes in the warmth of the embrace, and pretending, at least for a little while, that everything was fine.

He stayed like that for an eternity, waiting for the system alarm that warned him the code was taking up too much energy. Just listening to the steady blip of the monitor and feeling the Medbay's work jostle his limp body around. Then, nearing the third and final hour of Cohl's cardiac arrest, the Medbay said, "Commander Yui, please do not touch the patient." He jumped slightly and sat up, still holding Cohl's arm around his shoulders. "W-What is it?" "I've detected ventricular fibrillation. Stand clear while I charge the defibrillation unit." He felt weak with relief, almost too weak to climb down off the bed. Part of him didn't want to either, he wanted to lay there with him forever, suspended in a moment where there might still be some glimmer of hope. But this was better, this was real hope, and he reluctantly laid Cohl's arm back against the bed, drawing away. Two sets of thin robotic limbs placed pads against his upper chest and flush against his ribs on the opposite side. "Charging to 200," announced the Medbay as the machine whined with electricity, "Stand clear." Cohl jerked up against the plunger pinning him down, his limbs contracting inward. Yui glanced at the monitor showing an inside view of his chest, able to watch as the muscle, fluttering and thrown into chaos, seized up with the shock. When the contraction passed, it again vibrated without rhythm or meaning. "Shock advised. Charging to 260. Stand clear." Cohl bucked again, fingers jerking into a fist for a moment before his body slid back into stillness. No change. The Medbay shocked him again, then again, and again, but his heart wouldn't obey. The display showed it jerk, tense up, then continue quivering. Or it would push out a few quick beats and return to its useless shaking. On the fifth shock, when Yui was nearly broken from his catatonic mania and about to tell the Medbay to at last stop, Cohl's body jumped particularly hard. Then his heart started beating.

The sudden stillness felt so wrong after hours of rhythmic spasming and jerking that for a moment, Yui thought something else had gone wrong. But something had gone right instead. Cohl was alive. The compression band slid back into the ports it had come from, leaving his battered chest at last. His sternum was sunken slightly where it had been beating at his heart for at least two and a half hours, and his dark skin was mottled with an ugly bruise that stretched over most of his chest, but Yui could see his pulse leaping at the apex and pounding in his throat. As if not trusting the most advanced med system on board, he fumbled for an old fashioned analog stethoscope amidst the supplies, pressing the bell to a few points on his chest. He heard the ventilator hiss, the air filling his lungs in a whoosh, and beneath that, at last, was his heartbeat. It sounded like a lame animal, still shaky on its feet as it occasionally stammered in half-beats. Lub-dub, lub-lublub- lub-dub, lub-d-dub. But it was there. He was there.

It would be a long time before he woke up, miraculously with minimal brain damage. It still took months for him to fully recover. Yui still carried the shame of the event with him for awhile after Cohl was well enough to captain the ship again. Any other patient subjected to everything he'd put him through might have been angry he didn't just call time. But the shame warred with the joy he felt to see him alive, and most of the time that won out. He confessed one night the full extent- told Cohl of curling up next to his body in his grief and the guilt he felt for what he'd done. But Cohl had just wrapped him up in his arms and kissed the top of his head. "I'm glad you didn't give up," he murmured against his hair. Yui closed his eyes, pressing his face against his chest hard to take comfort in the beat of his heart, and whispered, "Me too."

#definitely inspired by a certain resuswhore story >W> with a happier ending #resus community #i was gonna hold off on posting this for a bit but now im sad over asystole! rip bruther #resus #cpr #chest compressions #male resus #dark cardiophilia #resus writing #defibrillation #mechanical CPR #intubation #ventilator

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reijisteacup · 24 days ago

Note

Could I ask for headcanons for the diaboys where their S/O has such a shitty immune system they keep getting sick over and over again? English is not my first language, sorry if it's hard to understand 🥹 Love the blog!!!

Thank you so much!! Your English is totally fine — I understood everything perfectly, and I’m so glad you enjoy the blog!

Sakamaki's

Shu Sakamaki:

He acts annoyed, but the moment your temperature spikes, Shu becomes unusually attentive. He lounges around with you and lets you sleep against him while playing soft music to soothe you. He won't say it out loud, but the sight of you too tired to move makes his chest ache. He starts keeping an eye on your symptoms quietly and even offers his body heat — "You're freezing again. Just come here already." If anyone comments on how clingy he’s gotten, he brushes it off with a yawn and a lazy, "Tch. They're mine, that’s all."

Reiji Sakamaki:

This man turns into a full-time physician. He keeps a strict schedule of your medication, monitors your hydration, and gets angry when you push yourself too hard. He scolds you about wearing proper clothing and avoiding drafts, but his concern is genuine. Reiji secretly fears your body won't be able to keep up — so he overcompensates by controlling everything he can. He even concocts specialized tonics in his lab, testing them carefully on himself first. He won’t stop until he finds something that gives you relief.

Laito Sakamaki:

At first, he jokes about it — "Aww~ my precious kitten’s sick again? Maybe I should wrap you in bubble wrap!" — but when you’re actually shivering or coughing too hard, his voice softens. He lies beside you and strokes your hair, whispering flirty nonsense just to distract you from the discomfort. Laito takes joy in caring for you, but deep down, he hates how fragile you are — it reminds him of things he wants to forget. Still, he’ll kiss your warm forehead and say, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you until you’re all better~.”

Kanato Sakamaki:

Kanato hates it. Seeing you constantly sick terrifies him in a way he can’t express. He lashes out, cries, and demands to know why you’re “always disappearing” into fevers and weakness. Once his emotions settle, he becomes very clingy and delicate — bringing you candy, dressing you in soft nightgowns, and singing to you while you rest. He talks to Teddy about you like you might not wake up. His care is obsessive: no one else is allowed near you, and if you’re in pain, he insists on being the one to "fix it."

Ayato Sakamaki:

He gets loud and dramatic the moment he sees you sneeze. “Oi! Are you sick again?! Dammit, Chichinashi, are you trying to stress me out?” But under all that yelling is a very worried vampire. Ayato doesn’t know how to deal with your weakness, so he overcompensates by acting like your protector. He’ll carry you, try to cook (keyword try), and act like he’s handling it perfectly — but at night, he stays awake watching you breathe. The moment you look even slightly better, he goes, “See? Told you I’d save you.”

Subaru Sakamaki:

He’s a nervous wreck when you get sick. He might punch a wall out of frustration, cursing his inability to make you feel better instantly. But he stays close, always silently hovering, offering you medicine with trembling hands and brushing your hair from your eyes when you’re sleeping. Subaru doesn’t talk much when you’re sick — he just acts. Carries you when you’re too dizzy to walk, fetches warm compresses, and refuses to leave your side. If you thank him, he blushes bright red and grumbles, “I’m not doin’ this for praise…”

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

Ruki becomes extremely methodical. Your health becomes his new project — he writes meal plans, buys you vitamins, and reads medical journals in secret. He acts like it’s a responsibility, but when you’re curled up in his lap, burning with fever, his hands tremble as he strokes your hair. "You must endure this… I’ll ensure your body strengthens, Livestock." He’s determined to "fix" it, but in the meantime, he never lets you suffer alone. You’ll always wake up to him nearby, reading and waiting for your fever to break.

Kou Mukami:

Kou laughs it off at first — “Ehh? You caught something again, M Neko-chan~? You’re hopeless!” — but behind the scenes, he’s unraveling. He knows what it’s like to have a fragile body and can’t handle the idea of losing someone he loves like that. Kou will spoil you while you’re sick: comfy pillows, warm baths, and plushies. He wants you to smile even while your nose is red and you’re miserable. And when no one’s looking, he stares at you and whispers softly, “You can’t leave me too… okay?”

Yuma Mukami:

He absolutely panics, but in a protective way. “What the hell’s wrong with your immune system?!” He doesn’t mean to sound mean — he’s just scared. Yuma immediately starts cooking you heavy, hearty meals, stuffing you with nutrients, and growling if you try to leave the bed. He carries you bridal-style to the bathroom if needed and stays up all night keeping cold cloths on your head. He’s a gentle giant when it comes to you like this. “I gotcha. Ain’t no damn sickness takin’ you from me, got it?”

Azusa Mukami:

Azusa doesn’t panic. He understands pain and fragility better than anyone. He treats your sickness as something sacred, something to cradle and protect. He’ll gently wipe your tears, whisper “I’m here… always…” and never leave your bedside. He doesn’t get scared when your fever gets high — instead, he just holds you and hums softly to keep your heart steady. Azusa sees you at your weakest and still calls you strong. “Even when you… feel broken… you’re beautiful… to me.”

Tsukinami's

Carla Tsukinami:

He masks his worry with sternness. “Your body is too weak. It must be corrected.” Carla will delve into ancient knowledge, rare remedies, and even magical means to strengthen you. While he seems cold, he tends to your illness personally — bathing you, feeding you tonics, and holding your hand with surprising gentleness. The idea of you dying because of human frailty enrages him. “I will not allow this world to take you from me,” he says with terrifying resolve. If immortality were an option, he’d give it to you without question.

Shin Tsukinami:

He starts off annoyed — “Ugh, are you seriously sick again?” — but it doesn’t take long for his mask to slip. When you’re too weak to argue back, Shin’s expression hardens with worry. He acts rough, but his actions scream concern: he fluffs your pillows, makes your favorite snacks, and watches over you like a guard dog. He growls at anyone who tries to disturb you. Shin doesn’t know how to express fear of loss, so he just stays close. “You’re gonna be fine… I won’t let anything take you away. Got that?”

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fanfiction #ask me anything #x reader #relationship #ask response

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kaeso4ka · 8 months ago

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You run away from Optimus, but he catches up with you

Pairing: yandere shattered glass Optimus Prime x reader

/SYSTEM RUN. CRITICAL ENGINE TEMPERATURE. DANGER OF EXPLOSION/

Your fingers flew across the keyboard. Sirens were blaring all around, and all sorts of warnings were blaring.

/DAMAGE TO OUTER HULL. DANGER OF EXPLOSIVE DEPRESSURIZATION.

“Shit!” you pounded your fist on the dashboard. It didn't feel any better: now her hand was sore. “Distress signal, where is it…?”

/DISCONNECTED. FATAL ANTENNA FAILURE.

You tried to concentrate on staying on course: the space shuttle was tossing sideways time after time, and the still-working radars ahead were showing asteroids. Lots of them. A hell of a lot.

The ship shook again. You'd think it was an explosion in one of the furthest compartments. Or?

“My Spark,” the loudspeaker distorted Prime's voice, ”and how long are you going to run from me?”

You were silent. The microphone was no longer working.

“Oh… I see. Did Ark's aimed shot do much damage to your ship? I'm sorry.”

/ COLLISION HAZARD! PULL UP!

The ship shook again, the darkness of space ahead blending with the maroon color of the alarm.

“You know, I want to give you one last chance to escape. You can steer the ship into an asteroid. Just the way you like it.”

You didn't even have to do it on purpose: the helm was jammed. The shuttle finally lost control, and a moment later it collided tangentially with the asteroid. You could hear multiple explosions clearly now, and a moment later the fireball reached your skin. The screaming subsided at once. The alarms went silent.

The piece of mangled meat lying on the platform hardly resembled a human being. But there was no fooling Prime: of course it was you.

The mangled body was a stump - more like a wreck - of arms and legs; skin blackened by fire; a broken face, with a slanted nose and missing lower lip.

Optimus lowered himself onto the platform.

“My Spark,” the scarlet optics lit up a little brighter, ”I hear you've stopped screaming. Ratchet injected you with medication after all?”

A quiet wheeze was the mech's answer.

“Fine,” Optimus touched the severed leg, pulling at the flap of flesh. It broke off with a distinctive cracking sound, “The consequences of a crash in space are always unpredictable. Your ship is beyond repair, alas. But your body is. What do you think?”

Prime's gaze lingered on your groin.

“I thought you'd stay that way for the time being. Your condition needs to be stabilized for cyberforming. You realize that. It's a matter of your survival.”

The crotch armor disappeared into the grooves, releasing the connector with a quiet click.

“But I have waited a long time. Your escape has made me hold back too long.”

#transformers #optimus prime #reader insert #yandere #optimus #optimus x human #optimus x you #optimus x reader #transformers shattered glass

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itsdirttime · 3 months ago

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Do I think the writers of TNG/DS9 gave the idea of Cardassain's being potentially cold-blooded any level of real consideration beyond "lizard"- no. Will that stop me from thinking about the topic too hard- also no. I have been stewing over the idea for days, and I need to organize my thoughts.

With that out of the way, they are obviously retilian in nature, so it is a natural assumption to think of them as cold-blooded...however..the implications.

Thermoregulation is a significant biological function.

Generally, there are two major categories into which strategies for temperature regulation are classified: ectotherm and endotherm. Ectotherms are "cold-blooded". Their body temperature fluctuates with the environment because they lack the internal mechanisms to stabilize their temperature. Endotherms are "warm-blooded". They regulate their body temperature, using their metabolism to produce heat.

Case for Cardassians being cold-blooded:

-Reptile?*

-There is evidence of their tolerance and preference toward higher environmental temperatures. The prime example that comes to mind is the station environmental controls being set to 32 degrees Celsius (89.6 F) when the Starfleet crews first arrived.

-It is fun.

*Let's talk about reptiles, though.

While the majority of reptiles are ectotherms, there is an outlier group. The avian reptiles are a marked exception to most assumed standards with reptiles. Birds are warm and feathered, but they are reptiles.

Case for Cardassians being warm-blooded:

-They have a caloric intake that suggests an active metabolism. Endothermy requires significant energy to maintain. When we see a character like Garak eat, it appears that the portions and general frequency of meals match known endotherm, Julian Bashir.

-Cardassians interbreeding without medical intervention with Bajorans would suggest that they have complimentary metabolic systems.

In my mind, Cardassians have an evolutionary history that does have ectothermic roots. This history has lingering physiological and behavioral impacts. However, modern Cardassians are endotherms. They just...aren't very good at it, but why should they be tolerant to the cooler temperatures that other species like Humans prefer? Starfleet and the Federation are designed around Human biology as a standard, but this does not mean they are universal standards. We see a similar temperature preference from other species like the Vulcans, who also come from hot worlds.

#star trek #star trek ds9 #cardassians #ds9 #elim garak #gul dukat #home grown posting

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covid-safer-hotties · 1 year ago

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“You may now become who you thought was disposable”: COVID-19 Politics and Ableism - Published July 4, 2024

Unpaywalled link available in the link to our archive! A taste below!

“You may now become who you thought was disposable”: COVID-19 Politics and Ableism Andrea Kitta Journal of American Folklore, Volume 137, Number 545, Summer 2024, pp. 321-330 (Article) Published by American Folklore Society For additional information about this article muse.jhu.edu/article/931461[37.228.238.33] Project MUSE (2024-07-09 12:59 GMT) American Folklore Society

This essay critically examines the intersection of COVID-19, Long COVID, ableism, and health care disparities in the United States, emphasizing the transformative impact of COVID-19 as a mass disabling event with a disproportionate impact on marginalized communities. I also bring an autoethnographic lens to my experi- ence of COVID-19 and Long COVID, underscoring the importance of recognizing the diverse and often untellable experiences of individuals with disabilities and challenging the prevailing ableist perspectives embedded in society. I raise ethical considerations of storytelling in the context of Long COVID and urge researchers to embrace empathy and a more inclusive approach that challenges traditional notions of objectivity and distancing within academic research. I call for a collaborative approach between disability studies and folklore studies, encouraging scholars to interrogate and explore the traditions shaped by experiences of disability.

On December 13, 2020, disability advocate Imani Barbarin created a TikTok where she stated in the caption: “COVID is a mass disabling event. Things will never be the same. Never. You may now become who you thought was disposable” (Barbarin 2020). Barbarin was not overstating what is happening in the United States. In addition to the overwhelming number of US-based COVID-19 deaths (1.07 million as of November 1, 2022, according to the New York Times COVID-19 Tracker [New York Times 2023]), there is also an alarming number of cases of post-acute sequelae SARS-CoV-2 infection (PASC) or, as it’s more commonly known, Long COVID. Long COVID happens in anywhere from 5 percent to 50 percent of COVID-19 infections (although most medical experts agree the rate of Long COVID is somewhere around 20–30 percent of all infections). Long COVID affects women at a 22 percent higher rate than men (Sylvester et al. 2022:1391), and one study of Long COVID listed over 200 symptoms (Davis et al. 2021). The most common symptoms are fatigue, shortness of breath, cough, chest pain, brain fog, sleep disturbances, depression, joint pain, and dysautonomia (a dysfunction of the autonomic nervous system that typically presents as the inability to control temperature, breathing issues, and other things the body normally controls automatically).

Current estimates of those affected by Long COVID in the United States are between twenty and forty million. COVID-19 has also been shown to reactivate other viruses (Gold et al. 2021; Chen et al. 2022; Su et al. 2022), and one current theory is that Long COVID is the result of the COVID-19 virus continually being reactivated in the body (Klein et al. 2022). The latest research out of Yale University shows that COVID-19 cases entail cellular changes to the B and T cells, lower levels of cortisol, and that the virus can reactivate other viruses (Su et al. 2022:891–2). A recent study with more than 154,068 participants showed that “in the post-acute phase of COVID-19, there was increased risk of an array of incident neurologic sequelae including ischemic and hemorrhagic stroke, cognition and memory disorders, peripheral nervous system disorders, episodic disorders (for example, migraine and seizures), extrapyramidal and movement disorders, men tal health disorders, musculoskeletal disorders, sensory disorders, Guillain–Barré syndrome, and encephalitis or encephalopathy” (Xu, Xie, and Al-Aly 2022:2406).

Both COVID-19 and Long COVID exposed inequities in the US health care system, with Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) populations dying from COVID-19 at much higher rates than White people at the beginning of the pandemic. Compared to White people, Alaskan Indian or Alaskan Natives died at 2.1 times the rate, Black people at 1.7 times the rate, Hispanic or Latinx people at 1.8 the rate, and Asian Americans at 0.8 times the rate (CDC 2023). According to the Washington Post’s analysis of CDC’s statistics, the rate of White people dying from COVID-19 became equal to the rate of other groups beginning in October 2021, then (except for the Omicron wave) increased, primarily due to White people being unvaccinated. Strangely enough, the equalizing trend wasn’t because death rates dropped for BIPOC people, but rather was due to the rise of the White death rate. Tasleem Padamsee, Assistant Professor at The Ohio State University who researched vaccine use and who is a member of the Ohio Department of Health’s work group on health equity, stated: “Usually, when we say a health disparity is disappearing, what we mean is that . . . the worse-off group is getting better. . . . We don’t usually mean that the group that had a systematic advantage got worse” (quoted in Johnson and Keating 2022).

Additionally, at the time of this writing in Spring 2023, the pandemic has been declared as “over” despite the fact that around 400 people are still dying per day in the United States and that those dying tend to be people with disabilities and the elderly (New York Times 2023). It’s difficult to imagine a situation where 400 deaths a day are deemed acceptable, yet here we are. Many people are desperate to “get back to normal” and seem to care more about going maskless or dining indoors than they do about those who are dying of COVID-19. Those who are unvaccinated and unmasked also seem to not understand (or not care) that the longer they continue on that path, the longer the pandemic will take to dissipate. Simply put, the majority of people do not seem to care about people with disabilities, including those who are immunocompromised, and their increased health risks due to the pandemic.

People with disabilities are an unrecognized health disparity population, and they died at much higher rates during COVID-19 (Krahn, Walker, and Correa-de-Araujo 2015). The National Council on Disability found that 181,000 people with disabilities in long-term care facilities died from COVID-19 in the first year of the pandemic, making up one-third of COVID-19 deaths at that time (National Council of Disabilities 2021). The report is worth quoting at length.

In addition to disproportionate fatalities, key findings of the report include:

People with disabilities faced a high risk of being triaged out of COVID-19 treatment when hospital beds, supplies, and personnel were scarce; were denied the use of their personal ventilator devices after admission to a hospital; and at times, were denied the assistance of critical support persons during hospital stays. Informal and formal Crisis Standards of Care (CSC), pronouncements that guided the provision of scarce health care resources in surge situations, targeted people with certain disabilities for denial of care (National Council of Disabilities 2021).

Students with disabilities were denied necessary educational services and supports during the pandemic and have experienced disruption and regression in their behavioral and educational goals (National Council of Disabilities 2021).

The growing shortage of direct care workers in existence prior to the pandemic became worse during the pandemic. Many such workers, who are women of color earning less than a living wage and lacking health benefits, left their positions for fear of contracting and spreading the virus, leaving people with disabilities and their caregivers without aid and some at risk of losing their independence or being institutionalized (National Council of Disabilities 2021).

Deaf, Hard of Hearing, Deaf-Blind, and Blind persons faced a profound communication gulf as masks became commonplace, making lip-reading impossible and sign language harder (National Council of Disabilities 2021).

#disability justice #disability politics #covid pandemic #covidー19 #mask up #covid #pandemic #covid 19 #coronavirus #wear a mask #sars cov 2 #still coviding #public health #wear a respirator #ableism #covid eugenics

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astupidweeb69 · 1 year ago

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You know x-virus don’t get enough love…. Do you have any head cannons regular or nsfw (maybe both)??

I've been thinking about this guy a lot lately for some reason. Also I've never written for Cody before so hopefully this came out okay.

I was going to work on Toby's but.... I have more inspiration for Cody at the moment. He absolutely doesn't get enough love!

X-Virus Headcannons

SFW

Isn't related to Toby at all. In fact doesn't really look like him either. Sure, he's got the brown hair, but he looks waaay more dorky than Toby does. While Toby has kind of a boy-next-door-from-hell look to him, Cody is more slender and works out less. He looks like your typical STEM student (sickly complexion, poor nutrition, etc.). His whole schtick requires him to stay indoors most of the time, in a make-shift lab.

Has a refrigerated van, which he paid to be converted to safely transport whatever science experiments he's got going on in a temperature-controlled environment.

He tries to stay in one place. He's less of a drifter than most of the other creeps but sometimes... the things he does requires him to uproot his life and start over in another town. (No Cody you can't just infect your landlord with a mutated form of tuberculosis when they raise your rent! There will be consequences!)

Has kind of a nasally voice. I feel like he always has a bit of a cold too.

Ironically has a shitty immune system, and probably drinks those Airborne Immune Support drink mixes like it's his job. Also a germaphobe, wearing medical gloves all the time, and his hands are dry and cracked from overusing sanitizer.

LOVES Re-animator. He's rewatched that movie more times than he can count. But he has a love for science fiction movies in general, with horror elements to them. Like Alien.

Also loves zombie apocalypse movies, but that's an obvious one. Specifically 28 Days Later and World War Z.

Sometimes he's like... should I try to make a zombie virus? nah.... unless...?

I also think he was raised by a single father, who worked for a large pharmaceutical company.

Antisocial. I know Toby and him are compared a lot and people give them similar 'hyperactive' personalities, but I don't see that for Cody at all.

Cody's more focused, and is less inclined to interact with others. He doesn't really get lonely?

I'd say he'd get along okay with someone like EJ (both like science, ya know?).

Toby and him hang out a bit - they'll stay in and watch movies together. Or Cody will tag along with him to a bar and watch as Toby fails to pick up anybody. Cody wouldn't say it to his face, but it makes him feel better about his own social skills to see Toby strike out like that.

NSFW (Under the cut!)

I don't know how he'd find himself in this situation - but if he DID have a partner.... the sex would be kind of bland at first?

He doesn't know what he wants and frankly is too much of a germaphobe to get up close and personal with someone he doesn't know well.

You'd have to spend months getting to know him for him to feel comfortable to engage in anything sexual.

I think at the start of the relationship, he'd want to experiment with voyeurism.

He'd be across the room watching you touch yourself, giving you directions while he slowly strokes his cock, loving the feeling of ordering you around.

But as things escalate, of course, he'd give in to his urges. However, the voyeurism would become how he likes to foreplay.

Out of all the creeps (most of whom I view as being dominant) he's actually pretty tame.

He whimpers a lot, and it sounds almost pathetic when he moans. He's been holding out for so long for the right person, and when he finally gets to fuck he's absolutely drunk off of you.

That said, his sex drive is about average.

One of his roleplay fantasies is him being the experienced scientist, and you being his lovely little assistant.

Probably started after the first time you helped him in his lab.

He just kept thinking of you in a tiny little lab coat, bent over his desk - papers and test tubes falling to the ground while his hips piston into you.

#creepypasta #my writing #fanfiction #creepypasta headcanon #x-virus x reader #x-virus smut #x-virus headcannons #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta smut #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader

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mercuryhc2024 · 4 months ago

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Mercury HealthCare Hyper-Hypothermia Machine: Advanced Heater-Cooler Machine for Patient Care During Surgery

Mercury HealthCare is a trusted name in medical technology, offering the most advanced Hyper-Hypothermia Machine, also known as a Heater-Cooler Machine. The Mercury HealthCare Hyper-Hypothermia Machine is specially designed to maintain the blood temperature of a patient during surgeries. This Heater-Cooler Machine helps to lower, raise, and maintain the blood temperature effectively through conductive heat transfer using an oxygenator or heat exchanger.

What is a Hyper-Hypothermia Machine?

The Mercury HealthCare Hyper-Hypothermia Machine is a state-of-the-art medical device used during complex surgical procedures. The Hyper-Hypothermia Unit (HHU) is essential for maintaining patient body temperature during critical surgeries. This advanced Heater-Cooler Machine controls blood temperature using conductive heat transfer and also provides a rewarming phase with a blanket placed under the patient.

Key Features of Mercury HealthCare Hyper-Hypothermia Machine

Fastest Heating & Cooling in Its Class

The Mercury HealthCare Hyper-Hypothermia Machine has a separate cooling tank and heating chambers, allowing it to achieve the desired setpoint quickly. The efficient Heater-Cooler Machine ensures rapid heating and cooling, reducing the waiting time during surgery.

Graphical User Interface

Mercury HealthCare provides an easy-to-use graphical interface in its Hyper-Hypothermia Machine. The display shows water flow, heating temperature, cooling temperature, and water level indicators for complete monitoring.

Fully Touch Controller Display

This advanced Hyper-Hypothermia Machine comes with a fully touch-controlled display.

Diagnostic Mode

Mercury HealthCare introduces the first-ever diagnostic mode in its Hyper-Hypothermia Machine for troubleshooting remotely. This innovative feature ensures fast and accurate problem resolution without technical delay.

Emergency Manual Mode

The Heater-Cooler Machine by Mercury HealthCare includes an emergency manual mode with interactive colorful keys, ensuring safety and convenience during critical situations.

Custom Configuration

Mercury HealthCare Hyper-Hypothermia Machine can be configured as per customer requirements, making it suitable for a wide range of surgical needs.

Auto-Cleaning Mode

The Hyper-Hypothermia Machine offers an auto-cleaning mode for descaling and disinfecting the unit, ensuring hygiene and long-lasting performance.

Independent Operation

This advanced Heater-Cooler Machine by Mercury HealthCare allows independent heating and cooling for Cardiopledgia and patient circuits, making it one of the most versatile machines in the healthcare industry.

The Unit Offers Two Options: One without a wireless remote and one with a wireless remote having a 10-meter range.

Conclusion

Mercury HealthCare is a leading manufacturer of Hyper-Hypothermia Machines, also known as Heater-Cooler Machines. With advanced features like fastest heating and cooling, fully touch controller display, diagnostic mode, emergency manual mode, custom configuration, auto-cleaning mode, and independent operation, Mercury HealthCare Hyper-Hypothermia Machine is the best choice for hospitals and healthcare facilities.

#Hyper-Hypothermia Machine #Heater-Cooler Machine #Hyper-Hypothermia Unit (HHU)#Blood Temperature Control Machine #Medical Heater Cooler Machine #Patient Blood Temperature Machine #Temperature Management System in Surgery #Surgical Heater Cooler Device #Medical Temperature Control Equipment

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gardens-light · 21 days ago

Note

Hi! I saw your requests were open and had one for you if you would be willing, totally understand if not!

Tfp Shockwave x transmasc human reader who's on their period and feeling dysphoric/generally not great

Shockwave comforting the reader about the physical discomfort of cramps/bloating and reassuring them of their gender/genral self even with their period. All in his own Shockwave ways of course

Thanks so much for your time and hope you have a good one!

Hi!

I absolutely loved this idea! Honestly went straight into the comfort/warm fuzzy style with this fic, therefore, apologise if it's a bit short. Enjoy!

Calculated Kindness

Word Count: 848

Content: TFP Shockwave x GN/Human Reader. Comfort.

The interior of the old Cybertronian communications outpost hummed softly in the dark, tucked deep beneath a desert canyon far from Jasper. Hidden from Autobot surveillance and even Megatron’s prying optics, Shockwave had converted the facility into a lab for off-the-record experiments… and, unbeknownst to anyone, a quiet place for one very specific human- his human to rest.

You curled up on the makeshift couch in the corner, clutching your stomach while wrapped in one of the thermal blankets Shockwave had synthesized to match your body’s fluctuating temperatures. The fluorescent lighting had been dimmed to a soft amber glow, casting faint reflections across the curved walls of Cybertronian alloy.

Shockwave observed you from a respectful distance, one clawed servo steepled against the other in thought. He could see your vitals were fluctuating. Not dangerously, but noticeably.

Elevated body temperature. Shallow breathing. Muscle spasms in the abdominal region. Fatigue in their limbs. Low vocal output.

You hadn’t said much since upon arriving, except the occasional mutter of an apology for being “useless today.” Despite Shockwave already telling you once before that apologies were inefficient when directed at allies, especially when dealing with something as biologically inevitable as your reproductive cycle. But still, you insisted on guilt.

"You're experiencing discomfort."

A half-laugh, half-sigh escaped you, as you shifted upon the couch, hugging your knees tighter to your chest. “Is it really that obvious?”

He tilted his helm slightly, attempting to process your sarcasm. “Ovulation is a necessary precursor to reproductive viability. But I fail to understand why your kind evolved such inefficient systems.”

You gave a weak laugh, burying your face into the pillow. “Trust me, we humans ask ourselves the same question.”

Without hesitation, Shockwave reached behind him, retrieving a small, human-sized thermal cup. Tilting your head, staring at him in disbelief as he gently approached you, each heavy step measured with care to not startle you.

“What is this?”

“An herbal compound. Derived from chamomile, ginger, magnesium glycinate, and bio-safe pain inhibitors. Brew it with hot water. Drink twice daily. It will not conflict with any known medications or disrupt hormonal balances.”

You held the thermal cup like it might vanish. “You… made me medicine?”

Shockwave didn’t answer immediately. He instead scanned your face, noting the way how you were holding back tears—frustration, hormones, gratitude and pain all warring for control.

"Affirmative. Synthesized from Earth-native botanicals. I observed you reacting positively to similar... teas last month. You have not consumed sufficient sustenance today. This correlates with increased irritability and poor self-perception during this phase.”

“…You noticed that?” you murmured, a little surprised.

“I observe everything,” Shockwave flatly spoke, but something in his tone hinted at something gentler. Something quiet.

Sipping the herbal tea, feeling the warmth settle in your stomach. The cramps didn’t disappear entirely, but merely dulled to a more tolerable ache.

“I hate this,” you softly spoke, secretly hoping that the kneeling Decepticon beside you, somehow didn't catch your words. “I was going to finish helping you run those synthetic nerve simulations, but I can’t even sit upright.”

Shockwave’s optic softened as leaned in a little closer. His massive servo hovered, uncertain for a moment, then slowly descended, cupping your blanket-covered side with painstaking gentleness. Careful to apply only the smallest pressure—just enough to be felt through the thick blanket.

You couldn't help but look up at him with weak smile, resting your cheek against the back of his servo. “As always, my body planed on betraying me on a day I aimed to achieve things on my 'To Do List.' God, I feel so useless during these times! ”

“I require data. But I do not require perfection.”

You turned your head slightly, pressing into his touch. Eyes flickering up to meet his unusual soft gaze.

“You are useful because you are you. You notice patterns others miss. You complete tasks without instruction. You are—frequently inefficient—but reliably intuitive.” His optic dimmed slightly, like a slow blink. “You provide a variable I did not anticipate. And yet I find… I would recalculate the equation to include you every time.”

You blinked. “...What?”

He adjusted, bringing his optic level closer to your gaze.

“Assessing your value through a distorted framework of cultural aesthetics and temporary appearance, is unlogical. I assess based on function, loyalty, and presence. You are efficient, brave and consistently… compelling to observe.”

A soft smile teased the corners of your lips. “You think I’m… compelling?”

“I would not expend time, data, or concern on a being who was not.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. No sarcasm. No mockery. Just facts, delivered in that low monotone that somehow made the truth hit harder than any flattery.

You exhaled slowly, trying to swallow the rising warmth within your chest.

Tears unexpectedly glassed your vision slightly. And despite the aching muscles and the heaviness in your limbs, you reached out and rested your free hand over the edge of his digit, anchoring yourself there.

“Thanks, Shockwave. I mean it.”

His response was quiet as he lowered his helm, almost resting against your forehead. “Understood."

#x reader #fanfiction #fanfic writing #transformers fanfiction #transformers x reader #transformers prime x reader #tfp shockwave #shockwave x reader #transformers prime #tf prime #tfp #decepticon x reader #x gn reader #gn reader

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mysticstronomy · 4 months ago

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WHAT IS THE QUANTUM THEORY IN SIMPLE TERMS??

Blog#487

Wednesday, March 12th, 2025.

Quantum mechanics is the field of physics that explains how extremely small objects simultaneously have the characteristics of both particles (tiny pieces of matter) and waves (a disturbance or variation that transfers energy). Physicists call this the “wave-particle duality.”

The particle portion of the wave-particle duality involves how objects can be described as “quanta.” A quanta is the smallest discrete unit (such as a particle) of a natural phenomenon in a system where the units are in a bound state.

For example, a quanta of electromagnetic radiation, or light, is a photon. A bound state is one where the particles are trapped. One example of a bound state is the electrons, neutrons, and protons that are in an atom.

To be “quantized” means the particles in a bound state can only have discrete values for properties such as energy or momentum. For example, an electron in an atom can only have very specific energy levels. This is different from our world of macroscopic particles, where these properties can be any value in a range. A baseball can have essentially any energy as it is thrown, travels through the air, gradually slows down, then stops.

At the same time, tiny quantized particles such as electrons can also be described as waves. Like a wave in the ocean in our macroscopic world – the world we can see with our eyes -- waves in the quantum world are constantly shifting. In quantum mechanics, scientists talk about a particle’s “wave function.” This is a mathematical representation used to describe the probability that a particle exists at a certain location at a certain time with a certain momentum.

The world of quantum mechanics is very different from how we usually see our macroscopic world, which is controlled by what physicists call classical mechanics. Quantum mechanics grew out of the tremendous progress that physicists made in the early 20th century toward understanding the microscopic world around us and how it differed from the macroscopic world.

As with many things in science, new discoveries prompted new questions. Prior to this time, scientists thought that light existed as an electromagnetic wave and that electrons existed as discrete, point-like particles. However, this created problems in explaining various phenomena in physics.

These include blackbody radiation—the emission of light from objects based on their temperature. Quantum mechanics also helped explain the structure of the atom. It helped make sense of the photoelectric effect, which involves how materials emit electrons when those materials are hit with light of certain wavelengths. By explaining how things can be both particles and waves, quantum mechanics solved these problems.

This new knowledge had profound effects in science and technology. Quantum mechanics led to the development of things like lasers, light-emitting diodes, transistors, medical imaging, electron microscopes, and a host of other modern devices. Your cell phone would not exist without the science of quantum mechanics!

Originally published on https://www.energy.gov

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, March 15th, 2025)

"IT IS POSSIBLE TO TURN LIGHT INTO SOLID??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #universe #spacecraft #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography

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gallifreyinstituteforlearning · 3 months ago

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⚕️Gallifreyan Healing Coma Management

Your Gallifreyan is sleeping and not dead.

This guide is for use on Gallifreyans and Time Lords only. Always seek your human advice from human health providers.

✨ What is a Healing Coma?

A healing coma is a physiological state unique to Gallifreyans wherein the body enters full stasis to direct all metabolic and regenerative resources toward healing. It's an evolved response to catastrophic injury, post-regenerative instability, or systemic failure. While it can appear life-threatening to outsiders, it's an entirely natural part of Gallifreyan biology.

🧠 When to Suspect a Healing Coma

A healing coma should be suspected only when multiple signs align, and never presumed lightly. These patients often appear dead to the untrained eye, with reduced or absent vital signs.

Key Indicators:

Recent severe injury, illness, or regeneration.

No visible glow (regenerative energy not active).

Extremely low vital signs, including: - Respiration <3/min - Combined hearts rate <10 bpm - Body temperature <5°C / 41°F - Systolic BP <20 mmHg

Unresponsiveness to all stimuli except occasional involuntary responses to high pain or telepathic signals.

Brain electrical activity is present but minimal.

TARDIS link unaffected (if applicable).

Refer to the Healing Coma Checklist in GASS. If 8 or more criteria are met, proceed with coma care.

📋 Initial Assessment

🔎 Clinical Differentiation

Before declaring a healing coma, rule out the following:

Respiratory bypass

Psionic shutdown

Induced stasis (voluntary)

Cardiac arrest (refer to CPR guide)

Anaphylaxis, toxic shock, or sepsis (see SER protocol)

If in doubt, initiate full GASS and ABCDE-P assessments.

🛑 Do Not Intervene If Healing Coma is Confirmed

Once a healing coma is confirmed:

🚫 Do not initiate CPR. 🚫 Do not forcefully rouse the patient. 🚫 Do not stimulate them verbally, telepathically, or physically.

Premature arousal can cause:

Cerebral damage

Systemic collapse

🛠️ Supportive Management

While the patient is in a healing coma, your job is to stabilise the environment, monitor, and prevent external harm.

1. 🌡️ Environment

Keep ambient temperature stable at 17°C (±0.5°C).

Reduce noise/light stimuli.

Do not allow contact with strong psionic fields.

2. 🛏️ Positioning

Flat or semi-recumbent.

Maintain cervical spine neutrality if trauma suspected.

Use a padded surface to avoid pressure injury.

3. 🧪 Ongoing Monitoring

GASS scores every 30 minutes for the first 6 hours, then hourly.

Monitor for: - Returning vital signs - Early signs of waking (twitches, murmuring) - Glitches in psionic output (may indicate instability or pain)

4. 🧬 Psionic Stability

If linked to a TARDIS, monitor the ship's response; it often reflects patient status.

Avoid telepathic interference unless absolutely necessary.

If psionic storm or uncontrolled feedback occurs, apply psychic dampening fields.

💊 Pain Management Considerations

While healing comas reduce pain perception significantly, residual pain may trigger premature arousal.

Do not use aspirin under any circumstances.

If pre-coma pain was extreme, ensure: - Environmental calm - Symbiotic contact (if possible) - Low-dose sedatives if awakening occurs in distress (Gallifreyan-only)

🚨 When to Escalate

Immediate intervention is required if:

Vitals drop below even healing coma thresholds (i.e., no BP or respiration at all)

Signs of regenerative instability appear (glow misfires)

The coma persists beyond 72 hours without improvement or explanation

New trauma or infection is introduced

📍Key Takeaways

✔️ Healing comas are normal (if dramatic) Gallifreyan responses to severe physiological strain.

✔️ Do not intervene once confirmed. Provide supportive care only.

✔️ Environmental control, GASS reassessments, and TARDIS monitoring are your best tools.

✔️ If you're ever in doubt—call a hospitaller. Or get the TARDIS. Or, ideally, both.

Medical Guides

These are all practical guides to assessing and treating a Gallifreyan in an emergency.

⚕️💕Gallifreyan CPR

⚕️👽Gallifreyan Assessment Scoring System (GASS)

⚕️👽ABCDE Assessment

⚕️⚠️Sepsis Emergency Response (SER)

⚕️⚠️Severe Trauma Protocol

⚕️🌡️Gallifreyan Thermoregulation and Emergency Response

⚕️🔮Psionic Emergency Pathways

⚕️✨Post-Regeneration Management

⚕️💤Gallifreyan Healing Coma Management

⚕️🩸Interpreting Gallifreyan Bloodwork

⚕️👶Gallifreyan Paediatric Emergencies

⚕️🧠Managing Gallifreyan Neurological Trauma

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features:⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

#doctor who #dr who #dw eu #gallifreyans #gallifrey institute for learning #Time Lord biology #GAP Quick Guides #whoniverse #GIL: Biology #gallifreyan biology #GIL: Species/Gallifreyans #GIL #GIL: Biology/Medical

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typewritingyip · 8 months ago

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Arcturus Two

Masterlist

—

Logs: Pilot 2672

Name: Clifford Rothschild

Callsign: Cliffjumper

Cliffjumper was originally from New York state, a graduate of Cornell, and spent most of his life among the vastly intelligent and wealthy. When the pilot program was first announced he and several friends of his applied as a joke, not anticipating selection or later compatibility. Out of the twelve of them who applied, three were found compatible and one died within a year of being a pilot. He went to work for Mecha as a favor to an old friend, knowing several of the scientists and engineers on staff. Fairly young in the program, but always wanting to know and learn more he volunteered for the Arcturus Program. Pilot 2672; single, no children, mother and father reside in upstate New York, fourth son of eight children, applicable for Arcturus mission.

One Year Till Arcturus Two Launch

Pilot 2672 was sent to intermediate training for his solo mission to collect data and information on the enemy past our atmosphere, he will spend the next year preparing for the mission and the last six months working with NASA as well as other space agencies to prepare for the trip. He enters isolation three months from today to prepare him for his extended isolation. As of the moment, he states he’s enthusiastic about the venture and quotes, “looks forward to seeing space.” Logs will be filled at specific intervals to keep files updated on pilot and mech suits condition, limited classified information will be added and later redacted at time of release. Each log will end with a status of information and condition.

Two Weeks Post Arcturus One Launch

Pilot 2672’s timeline has been expedited in the recent loss of contact with Arcturus One, them being unable to launch the relay satellite before going offline. Their control is <REDACTED>. He is to enter isolation immediately, to enter training with NASA along with the various other agencies immediately, all contact with the pilot will be remote from this moment on in preparation for his departure. His mech has been moved into R&D and taken off the duty roster. Pilot 12437, name Stacey Rivers, callsign Slipstream is re-assigned to 2672’s coastal region, moved off suspension. Launch date remains the same temporarily. Loss of Arcturus One remains in Mecha’s systems, do not release to the public. Information expected, condition atypical.

Nine Months Till Launch

Pilot 2672 is displaying mild signs of distress, attempting more conversation than permitted with <REACTED> who is unauthorized staff. Mech upgrade is 27% complete, exterior plating upgraded for sub-zero temperatures with the average temperature for space calibrated and oxygen tanks installed. Multiple staff are being authorized for a mental health check of pilot, clearances required. Pilot of Arcturus Two continues to ask about pilots of Arcturus One, maintaining public response and clarifying classification status. If his condition continues to worsen, Pilot 3535 is on standby for reassignment. Information expected, condition typical.

Six Months Till Launch

Pilot 2672 is no longer displaying concerning behavior, maintaining communication with authorized specialists and unauthorized communications have ceased. Pilot 3525 deceased, removed from standby, updated Pilot 4807. Suit testing begins in one week's time, 48% complete. Preparation testing was successful and pilot is preparing for next stage, once his mech is fully upgraded he will have access to the cockpit for further needed testing. Flight simulations start in twenty four hours. Movement to location <REDACTED> necessary. Pilot still has frequent questions of Arcturus One, further limiting his status and classification. Information expected, condition typical.

Three Months Till Launch

Cliffjumper, requesting to be labeled as such in further documentation, is displaying concerning behavior and negative attitude towards authorized specialists. Time in isolation has been terminated based on medical professional guidence, still deemed safe enough to participate in the mission. Pilot 4807 removed from standby, sent back to typical assignment. Questioning of Arcturus One status remains frequent and answers remain to public information through NASA, the entire Arcturus One mission is now classified aside from limited NASA false releases. Maintains limited contact with not sanctioned personnel. Mech upgrades 76% complete, cockpit viable for further testing. Pilot undergoing updates to installed tech, projected integration time; five days, sixteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes. Information expected, condition typical.

One Month Till Launch

Cliffjumper seemingly has returned to typical status, no longer acting out nor asking about Arcturus One mission. Integration procedures were successful, limited information in file on request of Dr. Shockwave citing potential copyright claims upon declassification of documents, procedure <REDACTED> was successful. Medical records sealed until pilots’ return to Earth. Pilot no longer seems hostile after an attempted assault on staff and unsanctioned personnel. Updates made to both drift compatibility technology and integrated software. Mech upgrade 97.6% complete, projected to be completed before launch date. Repaint complete with heat resistant paneling installed. Information expected, condition typical.

Launch Day

Pilot refused to speak with anyone on the day of launch, including close friends and family who he had not had recent contact with, and has limited his contact with sanctioned personnel. Did not pass drug screening for blood alcohol content night before flight, passed in morning. Negative for any narcotics. Cleared for flight day of launch by medical personnel. Mech upgrade 100% complete before launch.

Any concerns held by personnel at Mecha were not voiced nor were any formal reports written on Cliffjumper’s current status. <REDACTED> maintains, pilot prepared for launch with no further updates. Information expected, condition typical.

Two Weeks Post Launch

Nominal readings, data remains consistent, anticipation of loss of contact remained till several hours after typical loss. Pilot regained optimism after that point, remaining in contact for an extended period and requested communication with sanctioned personnel. Mech suit remaining stable and data flow continues to what is supposed to be a typical level. Communications remain stable and pilot seems enthusiastic, speaking of <REDACTED> over the comms. Information unexpected, condition atypical. Status: Active

Three Months Post Launch

Pilot vitals, typical. Mech suit data, typical. Communications, stable. Information expected, condition typical. Status: Active

Six Months Post Launch

Communication with Pilot 2672, Cliffjumper, has been lost. Last known location, <REDACTED>. Information released by NASA to the public before Mecha could alter information. Public remain unaware of loss of Arcturus One, family received stipend to remain silent on loss of pilot. Public funeral will be broadcast at six pm local time. Cliffjumper logged as MIA, last known coordinated logged and data being received remains under review. Status: Unknown.

Logged data of Arcturus Two archived and closed, remarked to classified status and further redactions needed. Government assistance requested and awaiting approval. Signed off on by coordinator, Pilot 2162 of South East Coastal Region. Confirmed by department lead, <REDACTED>.

—

New File: Arcturus Three

Logs: Pilots 3141, 6986, and 17741; Medical Advisor Requested

Name(s): <REDACTED>

Callsign(s): <REDACTED>

Two and a half years away from the launch of Arcturus Three, pilots maintain current statuses and are unaware of results of Arcturus One.

———

A/N:

I don’t think I can actually begin to describe how much of a pain writing this was. I don’t know why, I loved the idea when I first thought about it but man, I will not write another one like this for a while.

Part Eleven will be out in the next few days hopefully, I haven’t had much time to work on it.

I’m so thankful for all the support I’ve been getting on the Arcturus missions, it means so much to me.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU

#transformers #maccadam #tf mecha universe #the arcturus missions #Cliffjumper

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