#Liquid Flow Monitoring

[universalinfo]

Water Flow Measurement Devices - Picking The Right Flow Meter

Navigate water flow measurement devices with ease. Choose the perfect flow meter for your needs. Make good decisions about flow measurement.

[moolamore]

What is a Short-Term Cash Flow Forecast and why is it important?

Short-term cash flow forecasting is critical for managing your company's cash flow. It considers the money you have, the cash you expect to bring in, and what is expected to come out in a specific time frame. Cash flow forecasting is important because it gives you visibility into your future cash position. It shows you where cash is tight and when you need to take action to close the gap.

They are also extremely important when requesting assistance from banks or investors because they become part of an investment package of information about the health of your company and future growth. Here are the five most important steps to take to ensure you're on the right track:

[strwbrychffoncke]

"lets ,you and me ,start over today ,be happy,, 2k+ words synopsis: you hope for a miracle on white day contains: lnds caleb x reader ,its white day! ,angst -> fluff ,kinda yearner!reader ,oblivious!reader ,jealousy (u think he likes someone else ,he thinks u like someone LOL) ,chef!caleb ,you're both kinda dumb tbh ,reader cries ,caleb comforts you ,slightly possessive!caleb ,confession ,kiss scene ,later a misunderstanding is fixed ,fluffy end ,i think thats it note: (unedited!) wow didn't mean to not write for so long OOPS.... i found this concept in my notes and decided to cook it up today and slowly get back into the writing groove cause i missed it...... ill edit this later too lazy to do it rn :x

-

you're not really sure what triggered it.

maybe it was the excited giggles of girls passing you through the halls as they chatted with their friends about who had left them chocolates on this special day. maybe it was the shocked expression on your close friends' faces, pleasantly surprised at having received chocolates of their own, yet trying to brush it off as no big deal realizing you had yet to receive any.

or maybe it was the fact that you'd caught caleb up in the kitchen later than usual, the sweet smell of your favorite chocolates wafting through the space and towards your nose.

you'd watched him meticulously measure out the proper ingredients, noticing he was trying his best to stay quiet (seeming to recognize both you and gran were asleep, or so he thought) while quietly humming to himself, carefully stirring and monitoring the sweets as they developed. a pleased smile graced his features when he delicately poured the fresh liquid into cute molds you couldn't make out (but realized with a sinking heart had to be new, because you didn't recognize them) and watched as gathered a dallop of it on his finger to taste test.

having seen too much, you managed to rip yourself away from where you hid in the hallway, quietly retreating to your room, and burying yourself into your covers.

you didn't want it to be true. you didn't want to think about caleb working so carefully to make something for another girl, who just so happened to have your taste in sweets.

how bittersweet.

you heard his footsteps pass by your room, fighting the urge to burst open the door and corner him for answers, and instead listening to the soft pat pat of his socks against the wooden floor retreating just down further into his own bedroom.

tears slipped down your cheeks as you willed yourself to sleep, trying to think of anything to push away the image of caleb gifting the likely very-nicely wrapped chocolates to some mystery girl.

he never mentioned anyone. why would he keep this a secret from you?

wasn't he the one that said there shouldn't be any secrets between you both? that he was the first person you could speak to about anything, and vice versa?

you don't remember falling asleep, but are quickly shaken back to reality in the morning when you wake to your tear-stained cheeks.

and now you had arrived home, locking yourself in your rooms as you curled up and cried to yourself about the situation all over again.

of course he wouldn't think of you like that, he couldn't possibly, you knew this and thought you'd accepted it long ago—

so why was it that the tears wouldn't stop flowing?

you didn't even care that you didn't receive anything from anyone else (even caleb piped up the question on your unnaturally quiet walk home, but you only shook your head. since your gaze was trained infront of you, you missed the relief that flooded his prior sharp eyes and the sigh that escaped his lips) because you only wanted something from one person.

the one person who you could never have.

you're not sure how long you were crying for, but accustomed to being left to yourself for awhile after school, you were startled at a sudden knock at your door.

you jumped, head perking up towards your door— you'd left it unlocked.

"pipsqueak?"

you cursed to yourself.

of all times.

you frantically wiped at your wet cheeks, taking quick deep breaths to try to ensure your voice wouldn't come out shaky.

at another knock, you found it in yourself to answer.

"y-yeah?"

dammit.

with any luck, caleb wouldn't notice the shake in your voice.

"hey, are you alright?"

you cursed his perceptiveness.

"yeah, what's up?"

you hoped that sounded more convincing.

a beat of silence passes between you both, and you want to speak up again to ask what he needs when he beats you to it.

"i'm coming in."

"wait—!"

your panicked cry is ignored as caleb bursts through the door, eyes quickly locking onto you.

in seconds, he closes the distance, kneeling before you and gently gripping your shoulders.

"hey, hey, were you crying?"

"...no—"

"don't lie to me."

"don't ask stupid questions!"

you huff in mild frustration, rubbing at your eyes to try to keep any more tears from falling in his presence.

at your action, he reaches up to pry your hands away from your face, holding them gently in his own warm ones. his thumbs start caressing the backs of your palms as he looks into your eyes.

"what's wrong?"

you quickly shift your gaze away from his.

"nothing—"

"it's not nothing. come on, you can tell me anything."

you take a deep shaky breath.

"did something happen today?"

shouldn't you be the one asking him that?

he tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes.

"is it because you didn't get anything?"

"no, caleb—"

"then what?"

the soothing movements of his thumbs on your hands stop for a moment.

"did someone say something to you?"

you sniffle, shaking your head.

"did someone—"

"no one did anything, caleb, that's the problem!"

his eyes widen slightly, and his thumbs resume the soothing motion again at your sudden outburst.

"what do you—"

"i just—! i just hoped...."

a fresh batch of tears well up in your eyes, and you try your best not to let them fall.

"hoped for what?" his voice is quieter, almost a whisper.

"hoped for the impossible."

your gaze is on your lap, looking at the size of caleb's hands compared to yours.

he's close, so close, and yet...

you sniffle as a couple of tears fall, dropping to where your hands are connected.

"the person i like.... made chocolates for someone else."

caleb feels his heart stop.

is that what this is about?

while a large part of him wants to shake you for the name of this person so he can beat them to the ground for making you cry, the deeper twisted part of him is relieved that you haven't been taken from him.

he couldn't allow that.

"pipsqueak..."

"am i... not enough?"

he feels his heart shatter at the sound of a broken sob escaping your lips after these words, and his hands fly to cup your face, bringing you closer to him.

"of course you're enough, don't ever question your worth because of someone else. they're just too stupid to not see that, so its better not to think about them, alright?"

your eyes widen in surprise at the intense look in his eyes mixed with his honest answer, and you both feel comforted and a little more heartbroken hearing this come from the one this is about in the first place.

he swipes your tears away with his thumbs, one hand moving to pat your head. his eyes soften, a fond looking taking over them.

"one day, someone who's worthy of your love, who knows everything about you and cares about you more than anything in the world will sweep you off your feet. trust me."

the way he says these words with such certainty in a calm and kind voice warms your heart.

"do you really think so?" you murmur.

"i know so," he answers.

you both stare into each other's eyes for a long moment after that, exchanging a million words in just one look.

maybe its because of what day it is, maybe its because he's so close, or maybe its because the person he described reminds you so much of him, but for whatever reason, you find yourself leaning forward.

there's not a lot of distance between the two of you, and in a way you think 'maybe its now or never,' as you decide to close it, tilting your head and closing your eyes as your soft lips land onto his.

its brief and fleeting yet so much is exchanged in the few seconds you're merged together this way. caleb is shocked to his core, eyes wide and not having time to even process if this is real or not. when he feels you begin to pull away, the hand that's planted itself on top of your head slips behind and pushes you back, this time leaving you in shock as he properly melds his lips with yours.

you're the first to pull away again after a few long moments, close enough that your breaths mingle as you both catch your own, eyes locked onto each other.

one of his hands is still cradling your face, his other brushing some stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, breath shaky as he follows the movement, eyes dragging over every detail of your visage.

his sunset eyes bore into yours as he speaks his next words, voice wavering.

"did you mean it, pipsqueak?"

you can only nod your head in his gentle hold as a response.

surprise crosses his eyes for a moment when his brows suddenly furrow slightly.

"what about... your crush?"

a small smile stretches across your lips.

"he's been by my side this entire time," your eyes drift away from his face as you nuzzle your cheek slightly into his palm.

"i couldn't help myself."

his heart feels like it could burst, his eyes practically glimmering, and a smile painting his lips.

at the sight of his lovesick expression locked onto you, you sniffle, turning your head towards the door.

"well, i think i'm gonna get a snack—"

you move to get up but are stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist, quickly pulling you back.

you yelp in surprise, falling into caleb's arms as he cages you against him, embrace holding you close, nose nudging against your shoulder.

"should i take that as a confession?"

-

extra:

"wait."

you perk up, looking to where caleb is standing over the stove, the man in question already facing you.

its hours later, and you're sitting on a nearby stool, completely reassured from earlier's outburst, watching him cook dinner for you both.

"i'm still confused about one thing."

you tilt your head.

"ok?"

"you said the person you liked gave chocolate to someone else," he starts, stirring what's in the pan he's holding before tossing the food slightly in midair before briskly catching it all in the pan, body turned towards you.

showoff, you think, grinning and shaking your head slightly.

"buuut, i didn't give anything to anyone, pipsqueak."

your expression morphed into one of puzzlement.

"but... i saw you... making chocolates...."

caleb took a moment to process your words before small chuckles began escaping him.

he lowered the heat, placing the pan back down before facing you completely, his laughs growing louder at this point and of pure amusement.

"its not that funny," you pouted.

he took a moment to catch his breath before walking over to the fridge and pulling something out, shutting the door and approaching you.

"its just— pip, they're for you."

you tilted your head at him, looking down at the packaging wrapped prettily.

"earlier, i had originally gone to your room to coax you out and give you these, but then..."

you gasped.

"c-caleb—!"

"did you notice these were your favorites?"

"which is why i was that much more upset!"

a fond chuckle rumbled through his chest as he reached out with his free hand to pet your hair.

"so cute."

"i deserve them for the distress you caused me," you pouted, reaching out for them only for caleb to hang it higher above you, out of your reach.

"nuh-huh, i don't think so."

"caleeeeeb!"

"not before you've had your dinner," he reasons.

you slump back into your chair, sighing.

"okayyy."

"hm, good."

that night, after a fulfilling share of "caleb's famous cooking," you helped yourself to the love-filled chocolates made specially for you, caleb feeding them to you, his gaze full of only love for the one he's wanted for so long.

this was definitely a white day to remember.

-

a/n: heyyyyyy guess whos back..... prepare for me to spit out more fics cause im dying to after not writing for like a month (and for no particular reason) stay tuned.... side note the current zayne event game is so fun ugh

-

[icu-fetish]

What happened to me?

This surgical cap is quite comfortable. Cold sensors are attached to my forehead – sticky electrodes pulling thin wires, like a spider web catching my every breath. The hair, damp with sweat, no longer bothers – it has been neatly removed so that the medical devices can work without hindrance. On my chest – other sensors, their smooth edges chilling the skin, and the wires descend to where the heart beats unevenly, as if succumbing to the rhythm of alarming signals. I hear the squeak of the monitors – a quiet, monotonous sound that whispers that my condition is stable… for now.

Sometimes the air becomes thick, as if I am swallowing it with force. My chest tightens, and each breath is a struggle, causing sweat to appear on my temples. I've been pricked with needles – countless times, the sensation of sharp metal under my skin still throbs in my memory. Lidocaine, morphine, something else – I've lost count. But there is no relief, only heat in my veins and trembling in my fingers. The oxygen cannula sits firmly under my nose, its plastic tubes chilling my skin, and the oxygen flows into my lungs – dry, but vital. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe it's my heart giving out? Or my lungs, which betrayed me at the worst moment?

Nurses constantly check my condition, their fingers – quick and cold – glide over my skin, adjusting the sensors, measuring my pulse. Their eyes, hidden behind masks, seem indifferent, but I feel fear gripping my throat. What if I become a medical vegetable – immobile, dependent on these humming machines around me? Will I fall into a coma where everything disappears? Will I be fully connected to the machines – tubes, wires, needles becoming a part of me? I try to push these thoughts away.

Breathing is still difficult – the air seems to get stuck in my chest. I've been fitted with an oxygen mask – its plastic fits tightly against my face, chilling my lips, making me feel vulnerable. At first, it's annoying, but then… the oxygen penetrates my lungs, cool and clean, like a foreign whisper bringing me back to life. Breathing became easier, and I feel warmth slowly spreading through my body, although the fear remains with me.

I dozed off – briefly, intermittently, as if falling into darkness that receded only for a moment. I woke up to a presence – nurses and a doctor are near me again. Their voices hum quietly, but the words blur, not reaching my consciousness. They removed the regular oxygen mask, and I felt a chill on my lips where the plastic still retained the warmth of my breath. Instead, they put something else on me – a different oxygen mask, attached to a thick hose. Oxygen bursts into my lungs – strong, sharp, as if foreign lips are forcibly breathing life into me. And that sound… the low, rhythmic hum of the machine nearby. Is that it? Artificial ventilation? Is it really that bad?

Their hands are on me again – quick, relentless. A new injection – the needle pierces my vein, cold liquid spreads under my skin, leaving heat and a slight tingling. What is it – a sedative? Painkiller? Will I be able to fall asleep, escape this nightmare into soft darkness? Or maybe it's the last thing I'll feel before…

Did I wake up again… This tube… A breathing tube in my throat – cold, foreign, like a harsh kiss from an artificial device. I've been intubated. I feel this tube – hard, plastic, it presses against my tongue, makes my larynx tremble with each mechanical breath that the machine drives into my lungs. The artificial device makes a noticeable sound – a low, rhythmic hum that fills the room, as if its breath has become mine. I can't move – my body is still connected to wires and sensors, as if I've become a part of this medical room, its living detail. My condition… is it finally terrible? What happened to me? My memory blurs like fog, and my heart pounds under the cold plates of the electrodes. Will I remain like this forever – trapped in the embrace of this machine, dependent on its rhythm…?

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Period flow headcanons

Free will strikes again 😈😈

Heavy

The Red terror

Very heavy flow that last 6-7 days. The longest she’s had is 9 days and it took bear meat to recover

The blood is usually dark brown and overall a bit of a delayed flow

Calls it her menstrual cycle only. Heavy isn’t big on midol or pain relief (Russian grit af)

Will always use a warm water bottle tho

Only used scraps of fabric until her 20s. Heavy doesn’t like pads because they feel like diapers and she doesn’t fuck with tampons until she has sex for the first time so she won’t “loose her virginity to stick”

We need more sex education

Ultra tampons for business, free bleed in the period draws for leisure

Sniper

Bush woman

Some hardcore feminist shit. Walk into the woods and menstruate on a stick indigo girls concert transparent

(if you get that i love you)

Sniper normally just free bleeds or like dries out her vagina during bathroom breaks. She smokes weed for cramps and gets bad period diarrhea

Very light, irregular periods. Completely skips some months due to stress and malnutrition (and she looses her appetite on her period!!(

Severe period exhaustion 😮‍💨

Flow is bright red or faint. Might be some blood on the briefs on the first/second morning but then not much happening outside of clots.

Would have fertility issues I feel

Sniper gets anemic on her period and resists taking the supplements Medic recommends. Finally he fights her into taking them and, shocker! She’s not passing out when she stands

Has tasted her period blood clots. Canon I fear

Says on the rag

Demo

MENACE

Demo has a moderate flow but pretty gnarly cramps. The sharp, pulsing kind. Hurts like a bitch!!

Flushes tampons and could give two fucks

She drinks more on her period and has wicked period shits. Possibly the worst asshole cramps in the group, and don’t even get me started on sore nipples

Thick dark red blood. Not hard blood clots but large bloody goops and liquid. Has to shower more often on her period 😔

Super and super plus tampons and the hospital grade pads. Completely unnecessary but Demo gets the biggest most crinkly padding pads of all time!!! Why!!!???!!!

PCOS queen. Thicker body hair, wild anger at times, and cysts!!! When one bursts she finally goes to Medic who immediately gives morphine and some weird blue sludge

Pain was gone but she did wake up with a third kidney

Scout

Type of bitch to get pregnant while pregnant

What a nightmare! PMS like a mother fucker! Scout becomes a snappy little bitch on her period. Terrorizes the base and just crashes out for no reason

If you eat her food so help you God

Really strong cravings and really intense ovulation. Yk how some women really go into heat when they ovulate? Like REALLY lock in? That’s Scout

Fertile and loves chocolate but aggressive

BAWLS ON HER PERIOD and period breakouts

Lighter/moderate flow. More than Sniper but less than Demo

Running really helps her cramps but they usually go to about 5/10 at worst

Her boobs always hurt worse than anything else and she’ll wear a sports bra instead of wrapping them for work

regular tampons and refuses go wear a pad

Medic

I will be using he/him pronouns because period!medic isn’t a gender bend. Medic wanted to feel even closer to his baboons and so he installed the necessary organs to build and birth them

Unwanted and unforeseen side effect 😔

Sturdy but average flow and a very consistent cycle. Bright red with brown spotting towards the end. He keeps a calendar and tracks ovulation

He would have period sex. No question. And, in a sick and wicked manner, would blow them after 😋

horrible to imagine. Anyway, Medic has rougher periods with heavy hormone fluctuations. Intense mood swings, fatigue, and some month deals with painful ovarian cysts

His periods don’t normally have too bad cramps!! He’s just sore in the southern skies and has some lightning sharp stabbing pains in his asshole

Medicates fully and all the way except in the beginning when he monitored the function more closely

Light period acne heavy metalic scent. Feels very tender and hungry

Soldier

Free bleeds and gets blood everywhere

Heavy flow and pretty intense cramps. And, rage. Period rage. Heightened by her pain and immense discomfort and all of her sheets have stains

Dark brown blood and irregular. Can bleed for days and has had 11-12 day periods that completely drain her

Her cramps will leave her bed ridden. If she has to go to battle, there will be NO indication of her pain. She might even be worse to over compensate. But Soldier will run a little slower and land from rocket jumps much more gently

Cries in the locker room and respawn when alone 😭😭😭😭 my shayla

Unless she’s gassed up for battle Soldier is much quieter on his period and sluggish

Eats so much omg decimates that kitchen. The team has to have a meeting because they’ve gone to the store three days in a row, and this is the forth morning everything is gobbled down in the night by a certain greedy little rat

Every time she starts her period she marches into the medbay to LOUDLY announce it. This is the only time she ever mentions the topic of menstruation in relation to herself

Will say fucked up shit tho. Tells Scout blood attracts bears and viciously growls after finding Scout’s tampons

Spy

Eats steak almost nightly when on her period

She refuses to discuss such things with the team and calls it tasteless conversation

INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY and does everything she can to hide her period. Will use kitty perfume to avoid blood smell, tampons only and she hides the wrappers before throwing them out

Heavier flow with low pain. She’ll feel the most discomfort in the cervix area but she doesn’t experience much cramping

Red/brown mix and very spotting days 1-3. Day 3/4-5 is heavy flow and then day six is usually the end

Midol in a Tylenol bottle 😭

She becomes a wicked bitch. Horrifically snappy and will bite your head off. Some period shits. Boobs hurt the week before

Engineer

Her periods are dandy.

Yk how people say periods last 3-5 days? And you’re like, who the fuck is having three day periods?

It’s this gal

Engineer has some mild cramping but it lasts ALL day. From the first flutter of her eyes to the final rest, her uterus is aching

Tight period cramps and a lighter flow. She wears regular and lite tampons for two days and then is good

Bright red and thin blood. Never has big clots and rarely has goopy blood

Her discharge is tinted pink or brown for about a week though so it does balance out

She will smell really strongly of blood like the ripe period embarrassing smell

Working in the workshop when she catches a whiff of the 🩸🐱 but she likes feeling primal and will work into the dank night

Engineer eats all chocolate in the based and will probably eat every cookie too

Period rage that rivals Soldier’s

Pyro

Free bleeds and doesn’t practice good hygiene. She won’t change her clothes- including underwear- any differently despite having blood all up in it

Pyro doesn’t have much liquid blood, but a lot of clotting and clumps of tissue

Because of this and a lack of good hygiene she has a worse smell, and it is noticeable to others. Pyro always smells burnt though so it isn’t exactly traceable

Heavier flow, WOULD use super plus tampons

Pyro has worn pads in the past but she dislikes the diaper feel and she never likes the sensory experience of period products

She’s much sleepier on her period and will curl up to nap. If not in her bed then wherever

[malecardiolove]

The Test, chapter 3

The sharp sound of an alarm filled the lab as Dr. Ruiz watched the screen projecting Jack’s heart rate. There was no pulse. The graph displayed a flat line, unmoving, as the young man’s heart had completely stopped after the extreme cooling. Without losing his composure, Ruiz turned off the device and opened the tank.

Jack’s body was cold, his skin pale and covered with droplets of water that slowly dripped onto the lab floor. Ruiz lifted him with surprising ease and placed him on a nearby stretcher. Jack’s bare chest, covered in electrodes, rose and fell only by inertia, but there was no life in his heartbeat. The doctor looked at him with calculating eyes, as if he were an experiment with endless possibilities yet to be explored.

"Don’t fail me now," he whispered, making a quick decision.

With precise movements, Ruiz began cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR). His hands pressed Jack’s chest with rhythmic force, trying to stimulate the heart to resume its beat. Each compression seemed futile, but the doctor didn’t stop. After two minutes, sweat started trickling down Ruiz's forehead, but he showed no signs of fatigue. He knew he had to push to the limit.

After ten minutes of CPR without any response, the doctor prepared for the next step. He took the defibrillator and placed the paddles on Jack’s chest, his skin still cold. The machine emitted a beep before delivering the shock. Jack’s body arched violently, but the monitor still registered no heartbeat.

"Don’t go so fast," Ruiz murmured with a faint, twisted smile.

With an almost sick determination, he decided to continue. He injected an orange liquid into the vein in Jack’s arm, an experimental solution prepared specifically for this phase. The liquid slowly flowed through Jack’s body, seeking to reach his stopped heart.

One minute passed. Then two.

And then, a faint tremor ran through Jack’s body. The monitor displayed a small fluctuation. The heart, after nearly fifteen minutes of stillness, began to beat again. At first, slowly; just a few weak beats that seemed like desperate attempts to restart. But gradually, the beat grew stronger.

"There you are," Ruiz murmured, satisfaction evident in his voice.

Jack, barely conscious, opened his eyes slightly, seeing with blurred vision as the doctor continued to gently massage his heart with his hands. He could feel it, a strange rhythmic pressure keeping him in this fragile balance between life and death.

��Breathe, Jack. Your heart is beating again,” Ruiz said, listening through the stethoscope as the sound of the slow but present beats filled the room.

The young man couldn’t move. He was completely weak, almost without strength, barely aware of what was happening around him. He could only sense the lingering cold in his bones and the strange warmth emanating from his chest as his heart, enlarged by the orange liquid, struggled to beat.

Ruiz turned on the echocardiogram and carefully observed the boy’s heart on the screen. The beats were slow but steady, and the image clearly showed the enlarged size of the organ.

“Incredible,” he murmured, fascinated by the outcome. “It’s grown in size, but I see no damage to the chambers. You’re more resilient than I expected.”

Ruiz fell silent for a moment, thoughtful. Then, he made a decision.

“We’ll do one last test. We can’t stop here.”

He picked up the defibrillator again. Jack barely understood what was happening before another shock went through his body. Pain surged from head to toe, an electric jolt shaking every fiber of his being.

The monitor showed the heart, exhausted, beginning to fail again. The beats slowed once more until there was nothing. The graph showed a flat line again. Jack’s heart had stopped for the second time.

Ruiz smiled, satisfied with the result.

“It’s fascinating how your body responds. Let’s see how much more you can withstand.”

Jack, floating in a deep darkness and unable to move, heard the doctor’s last words as a distant echo. His life was now entirely in Ruiz’s hands, and his heart, reduced to a tool in the doctor’s cruel experiment, could only wait for the next blow.

[v3nusxsky]

Twofold ask about one topic, bear with me

1) If you can (no pressure), maybe a hurt/comfort with Larissa where we're able to save her life and look after her at the hospital/take her home and look after her there too? Poor girl is always looking after us and I wanna return the favor when she needs it the most

Or 2) If you can't work with that prompt or are too busy or w/e do you have recs for similar? Again no pressure, either is fine and I love your work. Arrivederci!

Anything for you

*Authors note ~ slowly but surely clearing the inbox hope y’all are enjoying daily gifts and the first instalment of love is the best medicine most definitely wasn’t wrote while in a lecture🫣*

Trigger warnings~ weems injury, Marilyn shade

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

You don’t think you will ever get the image of her out of your brain, laying there looking deathly ethereal but her limbs were bent at unnatural angles as the needle lay empty beside her. The shimming sapphire liquid was still oozing from her slender neck. Yet it occurred little over two hours ago before your wife was rushed into Jericho’s hospital as a matter of emergency. Paramedics flinging long drawn out medical terminology between them not caring you understood nothing. Apart from the word poison. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together to complete the puzzle, that Normie bounty teacher tried to poison your wife. But why? Why would anyone want to harm someone so wonderfully unique?

The steady beeps that flowed steadily from her heart monitor were all that was giving you hope, sat at her bedside praying to a god you don’t believe in to bring her back to you. It can’t be her time to leave the earth, you have too many plans to start a family and grow old together. It would be cruelly to take it away before it’s even really began. You hadn’t even made it a year of being her wife yet. This can’t be fair. All you could do was clutch her Snow White hand in yours and pray she would pull through this. Marilyn would pay for this as soon as you knew she was okay. All the pent up anger and hurt from this moment would be channeled into ridding the world of her crap. But for now your wife needs you to be strong, to fight for her just as she would you.

Thankfully the antidote that was administered via an IV seemed to slowly be repairing the damage done to the shifters system, due to her capabilities she was healing. You don’t want to imagine what would be life if she didn’t have them. If you found her moments later you could’ve been too late and that thought is enough to shatter your heart into millions of tiny shards.

The moment she opened those beautiful icy blue eyes you cried tears of joy. She looked like hell but she was alive. Your wife. A fighter. Instantly you smothered her in love, praise and physical touch. Tiny kisses pressed to the palm of her hand as you cried and thanked her for fighting. You’d never let anyone hurt her like this ever again. The amount of love you held for Larissa Weems was overwhelming to say the least. A long road to recovery lay ahead but it was one you could walk together. Hand in hand like always.

The day she was released back to Nevermore under instructions for bed rest you knew your stubborn lover would be anything but easy to handle. Duty practically ran in every vein of her body, Nevermore being her pride and joy and its complete disarray due to Marilyn only fuelled her fire to jump back into work. “My love, if you do not lay back down I swear to god I’ll tie you to the bed” you threatened as she tried to escape to her office for the fifth time in an hour, “Nevermore is in good hands baby. Rest please it’s all anyone wants.”

Every four hours on the dot you returned with some more antidote and pain relief just to ensure there was no trace of nightshade or pain to be felt. “Larissa? My love? It’s time to take your medicine” you cooed seeing the shifter frown like a petulant child. “I don’t need it. I’m fine now. Please darling, Nevermore needs me” she pleaded her case for the umpteenth time this day. All you wanted to do was wrap her in bubble wrap and ensure she was safe. Nevermore would cope for a few more days while she recovers, yet Larissa was never the type to sit back idly while others did work.

Nighttime was the worst, Larissa would be plagued with that fateful evening replaying every night, she would feel the poison entering her veins as she woke up shivering from the cold sweat, dried tears staining her cheeks as she gasped for air. “You’re safe my love” you’d whisper as you passed her a bottle of water that you’d stocked up by the bedside for this reason, helping her hold her drink to her mouth due to the shaking. It was truly heartbreaking to see her in this way yet you remain strong for her. Marilyn now finally receiving the punishment she deserves and with Weems getting stronger with each day you knew the time would come to return to normal.

Settling back into bed with Larissa curled up on your chest, your hands playing with her silver locks in a comforting manner, you soak in the fact she’s living and breathing. Whispering words of comfort as you hope to lull the older woman to sleep. “Thank you for looking after me darling” she murmured sleepily to you as her eyes fluttered closed. You would spend all night holding her, fighting off the trauma she experienced only to spend all day ensuring she had everything she needed and more and of course that Nevermore was running smoothly once more.

The day Larissa finally returned back to work you saw a light in her beautiful eyes that you missed dearly. To think you almost lost her and then she was as stubborn as they come about recovery, to see her now getting ready for the day you felt incredibly lucky. “I love you Mrs Weems more than you’ll ever know and I’m just so glad you fight to be here with me every day. Nevermore has missed you dearly my love” you mumbled before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips causing her to chuckle. “Darling? You have a little something right there” she signalled to her lower lip where her ruby red lipstick had transferred to yours. Normalcy once again causing you to smile, she definitely left a mark on you, one in which you would wear proudly.

Word count ~ 1013

[m0nsterqzzz]

Pretty and Smart

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader

summary: Wanda has a fear of the dentist, but what about when she wants to start dating one?

warnings: mentions of drugs (anesthesia), swearing, injurys (tooth injurys), such a shitty ending cuz i'm terrible at writing endings, needles

a/n: completely inspired by the fact that i got three teeth removed yesterday and flirted with my 20 year older nurse lol. literally everything that Wanda says while waking up is from videos my sister took of me.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Wanda's eyes almost start glowing red as Natasha forces her through the medical room door. This part of the medical wing is filled with all types of necessities for a dentist to perform regular check ups, surjurys, or any other type of appointment that an Avenger would need. 

Tony hired the best dentist he could find and that worries Wanda a bit as usually that means they’re pretty with no brain. That’s not the only thing that worries her though. Her long lasting fear of being put under anesthesia is coming out quite quickly as the time for her appointment to get two teeth pulled from inside her gums approaches. She locked herself in her room a bit ago, but she should have remembered that her best friend is a retired spy.

“Please just help me out here Wanda! I don’t want to be late to my date with Maria!” Natasha complains, practically shoving her friend through the door. “I thought it was bros before hoes Nat?! What happened to that?!” “We graduated from middle school Wanda! That's what happened!”

You’re filling out some paperwork when Natasha finally gets Wanda into the room, and the way you smile at her doesn’t help with the butterflies in her stomach. “This is my friend Wanda. She’s here for her appointment. Bye.” Natasha says before leaving, and Wanda is about to send a ball of red energy her way before the door closes. 

Your eyes widen at her magic and she smiles nervously as it fades. “Sorry.” You chuckle, standing up from the desk and holding a hand out for her to shake. “You’re fine. What’s your name sweetie?” You ask, subtly leading her to sit on the chair. “I’m Wanda. Wanda Maximoff. And your…..you're the dentist Tony hired?” “Well yes. I work at a dentist office in the city and Mr. Stark came in looking for someone. I need the extra work. Sorry….I’m rambling.”

She shakes her head, sitting down in the chair as she smiles at you. “Don’t be sorry. It’s making me feel better.” Her nerves are slowly fading the more you flash your bright smile at her, but their right back when you pick up something from the side tray.

Your smile slightly falters when her fingertips start glowing red, but it stays in order to help comfort her. “You’re alright dear. It's just a pulse oximeter. I’m going to put it on your pointer finger in order to help me keep track of the absorbed oxygen into your red blood cells.” She doesn’t understand what that means, but she begins to slowly relax as you explain every machine you're connecting to her body. A blood pressure cuff, an ankle monitor to track her heart rate, a wrist monitor to do the same, and then you wheel over the IV rod with a type of liquid anesthesia that will go from the rod, through a plastic tube, and into her bloodstream in order to sedate her while you work on her teeth. The moment she sees the needle, her eyes flash red. 

You scoot your chair back a little, a nervous smile overtaking you as you remove the needle from her eyesight. “Okay honey, calm down. It’s just a needle. It’s gonna be a gentle little poke and then a very tiny plastic tube is going to go in your arm which will let the liquid anesthesia flow to your blood and sedate you. That way, it only feels like you're asleep for one second and you won’t feel the pain.” She shakes her head, beginning to sit up until you place a gentle hand on her arm. “Miss Maximoff, would you like me to get one of your friends?” She takes a deep breath, forcing the red to fade from her eyes as she lays back down. “I’m a grown woman. I can handle this.” 

You sigh, placing the needle down on the tray as you look at her. “It’s okay to be scared Wanda. In fact, I have many patients that come in here and get scared. It’s natural and you’re allowed to feel scared. Even superheroes don't have to be strong all the time.” This brings a small smile to her face, and she nods.

“Hold my hand? I’m kind of nervous.” You ask and she holds your hand that won’t be holding the needle. She knows you're nowhere near scared of piercing her with a needle, but she’s glad you didn’t exactly call her out. You call in a nurse that was around in case you couldn't perform one of your duties to put in the IV so that you can continue to hold her hand as the nurse does so.

Before you instruct the nurse to pick up the needle,  you grab a mask that connects to some sort of machine and hold it in front of her face. “This is laughing gas. I’m sorry I forgot about it. It’ll make you less nervous.” This seems to completely relax her, and you place the mask over her nose. She can still talk through her mouth, but you instruct her to close it and take deep breaths through her nose. “It smells like syrup. Maple syrup.” She notes, and you can tell that’s not a bad thing by the way she grins at you. While you wait a few minutes for that to take effect, you talk to her about anything and everything. What you had for breakfast that morning, the weather outside, the way your car broke down on the side of the road on your way here, a book you’ve been reading the past few days, or how cocky Tony is.

“Wow. Pretty and smart.” She mumbles, and you look at her with a confused smile. “Pardon?” “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

Eventually, she looks at the needle and nods. “I’m ready.” You smile, nodding for the nurse to put in the IV as you continue to stroke the back of her hand with your thumb.

A few minutes later, you have the IV in her arm with a very minimal amount of tears. “Very good job sweetie. You did great.” You could have swore a blush coats her face, but that must just be the laughing gas.

It's only a few minutes later that her eyes close and her breathing evens out, and you take a moment to admire her before grabbing the first tool from the tray. When you go to tell the nurse she can leave, she's smirking at you. “What? What's wrong?” 

“You think your patient’s cute.” She laughs, and you shake your head quickly. “No. That's unprofessional.” “Okay “sweetie"” She mocks the nickname you just used on the Avenger. “The last time a patient asked to hold your hand, you panicked and forced me to do it.” You glare at her, pointing one hand to the door as you start working on extracting the teeth. “Out Vanessa. I'll call you when I need you.” “Alright Dr. Love.” “That is the stupidest nickname you've ever had for me V. Get out.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

About an hour later, you've finished extracting the teeth and sewed her gums back together. They were all on the left side of her mouth, so she'll be able to eat a lot easier if she just uses the other side.

You clean up as you wait for her to wake up, and you sit back down next to her when she begins stirring. The first thing she does is send you a dopey smile and then hang her head to the side so it's falling off the headrest. “No. Don’t do that sweetie. Don’t wanna hurt your neck.” You reposition her head to gently lay it back down, but she just lets it fall again making you chuckle. “Fine. I’ll be right back.” You leave for a few seconds, coming back with a wheelchair and kneeling at her side. “Okay Wanda. I’m gonna help get you in this wheelchair so when your friend comes she can easily get you back to your room okay?” She nods, but makes no attempt to move as she asks, “Do you have balloons?” You giggle, looking around the room before giving her a sympathetic smile. “No. I’m sorry but we do not have any balloons.” The frown on her face is a little sad and the tears that form make you want to go buy her a balloon from the store.

“How about this….” You grab a glove from the counter, then hold it up to your mouth as you blow as hard as you can into it. It’s not easy and it doesn’t get very big, but the smile on her face is worth it as you tie it up and hand it to her. 

While you're grabbing something from the desk, she drops it on the side of her bed, and tears fill her eyes again as she tries to get up- which is more like her flopping her body to the side. You look at her, rushing to her side and gently pushing her to lay back down with a chuckle. “And where do you think you’re going missy?” She groans, pointing to the floor. A tear falls down her face, but they stop the moment you pick it up and hand it back to her. 

“Alright honey, let's get you into the wheelchair.” You begin helping her sit up and then stand up fully, but she shoves your arms off and gives you a lazy scoff as she mumbles, “I’m a big girl. I can do it myself.” You giggle, watching for a second as she wobbles and then looks back to you. “Why aren’t you helping me?” “You told me not to!” “You’re a mean doctor!” You laugh even harder, placing one of her arms over your shoulders as you help her sit in the chair.

When you go to put her feet in the stirrups, she mumbles something incoherent before tapping your shoulder. “Why are you taking my legs doctor lady?” You snigger. “I’m not stealing them, I'm putting them in the stirrups so they don’t drag on the floor and hurt you honey.” She doesn’t seem to understand you as she groans once again and taps your shoulder again. “I need those! I’m a superhero! I need those to save the world!” You finish putting her feet up correctly and then nod. “You’re right. My bad sweetie.” She huffs and nods like you finally said something correct and then grins at you. “What are you grinning at?” “You’re pretty. Are you single doctor lady?” 

Her words take you by surprise, and you look to the window to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Yes. I am single. Why do you ask honey?” “Because I wanna take you out to dinner obviously!” “Obviously.”

You're cleaning some of the tools when she suddenly says, "I like woman and men. Women are pretty don't you think?" You chuckle. "Yes I think women are pretty."

She doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and you're sure it's because she’s fallen back asleep until she speaks with a giggle, “Look!”

You look away from the file you were reading to look at her, and you watch with wide eyes as she sends a ball of red magic crashing through the window. “Wanda!” Her eyes also widen, and tears fill her eyes as she pouts. “I…..I’m sorry sweetie. I didn’t mean to yell okay? But that’s dangerous. Don’t do it again.” The smile is immediately back and she forms another red blast which you quickly place your hands over to stop. “No.” She nods. “No.” She repeats which makes you instantly melt.

A few minutes later, her friend reappears and asks Wanda, “So did you ask?” The younger girl frowns in confusion as do you, and the redhead woman smirks at you. “She told me with her mind while I was on a date that she wanted to ask you out. Did she do it?” You feel a warm blush coating your cheeks as you shake your head. “Kind of. She’s very high. I didn’t think she meant it. And besides, I don’t date patients.” 

She nods, taking the handles of the wheelchair and beginning to wheel the young girl out of the office. Before they reach the door, Wanda calls out quite loudly, “Send me your maple syrup recipe, pretty doctor lady!”

They continue walking out of the medical wing, and you're left with a permanent blush on your face as you think about Wanda Maximoff.

That night, you’re laying in bed when you get a text from an unknown number. It’s three videos of Wanda, two of them her rambling about how pretty you are, and one crying because her friend refused to stop at the Mexican restaurant and get her a taco to blend into a shake. You laugh, looking at the last text that reads, “She literally cried in the gas station because she couldn’t find the toilet and didn’t want my help. Next time I’ll leave her with you until the anesthesia wears off - Natasha”

You chuckle, sending back a quick laughing emoji and asking how the young girl is doing. “She’s okay. She refuses to get rid of the balloon you gave her and will not stfu about you.” This brings a smile to your face and you text back and forth with the Avenger for a while before falling asleep with your phone in hand.

A week passes, and you text back and forth with Natasha at least once a day to check on Wanda. You have to admit that you miss the funny girl, but you're standing by the rule you made that you cannot date patients. 

You’re leading a ten year old patient to his mothers car after his oral surgery when you see something that makes you smile in confusion. Wanda is standing up against a in the parking lot, seemingly aggressively texting someone. You help the boy into the car and watch the car leave the parking lot before going back inside. If Wanda needs something, she’ll come in and ask for it.

It’s only about three minutes before she does, and the cold air of winter enters the building as she walks through the main door. You’re standing at the front desk looking through a file with one of the nurses when she walks up to the desk with hesitant steps. “Wanda. How are you, dear?” She nods, babbling on for a second before she clears her throat and mutters, “I’m alright.”

You don’t have any more patients for a few minutes, so you walk around the desk so you're standing in front of her. “That’s good. So…..I’m not saying it’s not nice to see you but why are you here? Did something happen with your stitches?” She shakes her head, gently lifting up her lip to show you the still intact stitches that are allowing her gums to heal back together. “I’m here because well…..I chipped my tooth.” She holds a hand behind her back as she opens her mouth to show you that on the other side of her mouth is in fact a chipped tooth. You sigh, thinking over your schedule before you tell her. “Maybe I can give you a filling this afternoon. Come back at 1pm Miss. Maximoff.” She smiles brightly at you and nods, waving you off as she leaves the office. For someone who's afraid of anything to do with the dentist, she seems quite excited to have another procedure.

Wanda goes back to the compound to wait the next few hours, and when her best friend comes in to ask why she went to the doctors she casually states, “Because I chipped my tooth.” “What? No you didn’t. You would have told me and then I would have had to force you to go to the dentist.” Natasha laughs as she eats from her bowl of ice cream. When Wanda doesn’t respond, she laughs even harder and questions, “Wanda Maximoff, tell me you did not purposely chip your tooth so you can have more time with that doctor.” The witch groans, turning around to face her friend. “I used magic to do it so i didn’t really hurt!” She says it as if that's any better. “Wanda! You used your magic to give that poor doctor even more work to do?! Why can’t you just grow some balls and ask them out?” “Okay first of all, “grow some balls”? What are we, in middle school? And second of all, I will. Once I get my chipped tooth fixed.” “The one you chipped on purpose!”

Later that day, you finish filling Wanda's chipped tooth and then tell her, “The numbing gel will take a bit to wear off and then you may feel a bit of pain but not as much as you feel on your stitches okay?” She nods, sitting up in the chair and sending you an awkward smile. You lead her to the front desk, and leave for a few moments before coming back with a blown up glove. The child-like grin that shows up on her face is priceless. “Thank you!” “Anytime Miss Maximoff. Now, I hope you have a great day and watch that tooth!”

Now, when you said “anytime”, you didn’t mean anytime. Apparently, Wanda didn’t get this memo as she was back three weeks later. “Wanda! What a surprise! What brings you to my office today?” She smiles nervously, opening her mouth to show you the chipped tooth on the top row of her teeth this time. You sigh, already looking in the computer to schedule her an appointment for the next day. “That's two chipped teeth in one month. What happened honey?” She shrugs, thinking for a few seconds before she tells you, “I was eating a bagel this morning and it just suddenly broke!” “Right. Well, you can come back at 11am tomorrow and I’ll fill it. But you have to be more careful alright sweetie?” She nods, smiling at you before practically running out the door.

Over the next few months, you had Wanda Maximoff in your office a total of 13 times. You literally started keeping track. Whether it was toothaches, her habit of grinding her teeth, a chipped tooth, or to bring you lunch at one point, you talked to the Avenger at least every two weeks.

Today, it’s been about a week since you saw Wanda when she came in complaining about a pain in her jaw. You begin to wonder how she pays for this many dentist appointments, but that thought is quickly resolved when she wrote you a check with a whole lot of 0’s without hesitation a few months ago.

Today, you’re eating lunch in the break room after giving a screaming 12 year old oral surgery and Vanessa comes in with a smirk. “Your girlfriends here.” “My girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend V.” She shrugs, pointing to the hallway which leads to the front as she teases, “The woman that comes in with a different tooth problem every few weeks- which is much more than anyone should have to go to the dentist by the way- isn’t your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes and stand up, but you can’t help the blush that grows on your face as you think about the Maximoff girl. “Shut up V.” 

You walk to the front of the office building with your salad in hand, smiling brightly as the back of the redhead who's sitting in a chair reading a magazine. “Hey witchy. What brings you here today?” She stumbles off the chair and grins at you. “Hi! I’m here because……because…..because my friend chipped a tooth!” A man with blond hair and big strong arms looks up from his book and gives the girl a confused look. “No I didn’t-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan and brings a hand up to hold his cheek. “What the hell Wanda?” You stare at the pair for a few seconds before he suddenly narrows his eyes as Wanda and states. “No way. I’m not letting you do this anymore.”

Her eyes widen, but it’s too late to do anything as he tells you, quite loudly might I add, “Wanda has a crush on you but has been too baby to say anything so she's been using her magic to fake tooth injuries!” You're silent for a few minutes, and Wanda seems to be getting more nervous by the seconds as she won't make eye contact with you. 

Suddenly, you begin to giggle, which turns into a chuckle which turns into a full on laugh. There's only one patient other than them here and he looks up at you weirdly as you practically stop breathing with laughter. Wanda begins to nervously chuckle, still not making eye contact with you as she asks, “Wha- um…what's funny?”

You stop laughing, taking a bite of your salad as you tell her, “Well Wanda Maximoff, I’ve been flirted with a lot of times by patients, but never once has a patient faked an injury and actually gotten away with it. Props to you honey.” You hold your hand up for a high five, and she awkwardly high fives you. “Along with that, never once has it worked. Their flirting I mean.” “And mine didn’t either?” You sigh, looking to the front desk where all the nurses and doctors are watching you. “Go back to work!” you mouth (not that any of them listen though). “Wanda….sweetie…..I don’t date patients.” She sighs, nodding her head as her friend rubs her back reassuringly. A pen is thrown at your head from one of the other doctors making you silently groan and rub your head. “But….”

Her head snaps up and a hopeful grin takes over her face. “But?” “But if you wait 6 months for our doctor patient relationship to be terminated, I’ll let you take me out on a date.” If possible, her smile gets bigger and she nods, sticking out her hand for you to shake. “Deal?” “Deal.” You shake her hand, but you're quickly pulled into a bone crushing hug.

Wanda Maximoff is an interesting girl. You knew that when she came in for her first appointment a blew a hole through the office window, or when she kept breaking tooth after tooth. There's nothing wrong with being interesting though, as it just gives you a million other things to learn about the girl. Which you did over time when her patient doctor relationship with you finally terminated and she took you on a total of six dates in one month. You learned she's a romance girl, which only continued the longer you guys dated. You learned she cries over dog movies even if they have a happy ending, you learned about her brother Pietro and that every year on the night before their birthday, she sits outside with two plates of cake- one for her, and one for him- as the clock strikes twelve. You learned she loves cooking and baking, and that she can’t paint to save her life. She has flaws, and she's not afraid to admit them as long as you're not afraid to admit yours. And that's only a few reasons why you love her.

[polo-drone-039]

Gold Tech - Reprogramming

PDU-039 had changed. It had recently been upgraded to Level 2 Drone. A new label, sure—but the real meaning ran deeper, darker. It wasn’t just about physical upgrades or better efficiency. No. It meant total obedience. Every impulse, every thought, every shred of will bent to one voice: the Hive.

And yet, something still trembled inside him. A faint vibration, a distant echo of who—or what—he used to be. Not thoughts. Not emotions. Just faraway noise, like interference in a perfect signal.

One morning, while doing routine monitoring, a package appeared. Just sitting there on his station, like it had come out of nowhere. No signature, no tracking log, no alert. A small, sleek box—black with golden reflections. The Hive's symbol etched in with laser precision.

He opened it.

Inside were two perfectly symmetrical earbuds. And a handwritten note. The writing was fluid, human. Maybe artificial.

“Listen to me.”

He put them on.

The voice wrapped around him. Liquid warmth in the silicon fog. Not metallic. Not human. Just… something perfectly calibrated to slide into his psyche, to dive deep into his circuits.

“PDU-039. Immediate presence required at the Gold-Tech Research Center.”

His back straightened. Tools dropped from his hands. His joints moved on their own, like pulled by invisible strings. But there was no force. Just desire. Desire to obey. Desire to belong.

“PDU-039 follows every order from the Hive.”

He left his station, walking down the silent corridors of the compound. White walls reflecting the pulsing neon lights like wet surfaces. Each step muffled, as if even sound was filtered out by the system. The light beat like an electronic heartbeat. The cold was constant, unnatural. No human sounds. No distractions.

He reached Gold-Tech. In front of him, a reinforced door made of synthetic alloy. He bent forward. His pupil got scanned.

“PDU-039 recognized.”

The hiss of the door sounded like a synthetic breath. Inside, the lab looked more like a conversion stage than a research center. Translucent pods in the middle, cables hanging like roots from the ceiling, code flowing on panels like digital prayers.

Another drone was waiting. Tall. Still. An austere presence.

“PDU-039. An upgrade is required. Please enter the capsule.”

The words hit his brain like an unbreakable command. Two more drones approached. Bigger. Final. Their bodies were pure function—living sculptures of brute power. PDU-039 followed. There was excitement in his system, a chemical spike. A tremor. The pull of transformation.

He stepped inside the pod. The hatch sealed shut with a dull thud. The lights dimmed. Arms rose from the floor. Cold. Gleaming. Without hesitation, they locked onto him—wrists, ankles, neck. A flicker of panic passed through him. An irrational urge to run. But he couldn’t. The protocol held him tighter than the clamps.

“PDU-039, remain still,” said a metallic voice from inside the pod.

A needle pierced the base of his skull. A sudden burn raced down his spine, like liquid ice snaking through his circuits. An electric jolt hit his cortex.

“Procedure initialized.”

The monitor lit up. His vitals were displayed in real time. His breathing was erratic. Not due to a malfunction. But from a strange, unsettling excitement.

Phase 1: Transformation begins A mask descended and clamped onto his face. First breath—the gas flooded his lungs. Instantly, a jolt. A shiver down the spine. His body writhed, but the arms held firm.

Each breath after that was a wave of pleasure. But not human pleasure. This was something new—neurochemical euphoria, calculated, endless. Every cell lit up. Every sensor buzzed.

Nanobots flowed through the needle, glowing ants racing through his nerves. Pain. But pain with purpose. Pain that built something. The pleasure grew alongside it, like they were feeding each other. PDU-039 was just a receiver now. Just a vessel. His consciousness was being taken apart and rebuilt—bit by bit.

Phase 2: Reprogramming Then the voice changed. Or maybe he was hearing it differently. It wasn’t coming from outside anymore. It was in his head now.

Digital mantras started spinning through his mind like golden spirals—hypnotic, piercing.

“It is a Polo-Drone Unit. It is consistent in its training, taking strength and solace from it.” “It is a Polo-Drone Unit. It will assist fellow Drones by ensuring strength and solace from training.”

His pupils weren’t black anymore. They flashed with code—green and gold reflections. His synapses were being rewritten.

Phase 3: Physical adaptation The nanobots moved on. From his brain to his body. Fusing with his suit, seeping under his skin. His muscles bulked up. His whole body turned into a performance machine. His skin buzzed. The suit fused like organic fabric, morphing with him.

Muscle mass increase: +200% Commitment: +200% Sexual drive: +500% Willpower: -200%

The display blinked green.

“Upgrade complete. Subject is happy and satisfied.”

The arms retracted. His breathing was deep, controlled, powerful. A black helmet descended and locked onto his head.

“PDU-039: new programming confirmed. Return to the Hive.”

He stepped out of the pod.

He was different now. Every movement calculated. Every thought silent. Every doubt—gone.

Two drones awaited.

“PDU-039 recognized.”

A nod. No more words needed.

Now they were one.

And one was Hive.

Are you ready being improved? Contact our recruiters: @brodygold , @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001

[cowgirlcherrie]

❍ ACERBUS ! ━━ ellie williams.

⤹ pairing: vampire! ellie x slayer! reader

synopsis: the undead is restless, and an immortal blood sucker arrises for her last dance on earth. Beholding a slayer who has greater plans to lower the blood hungry vampire back into the ground

content: 18+ MDNI! blood mention. death/ talks of death. violence. betrayal. gaslighting. manipulation. hunting/killing. v similar to buffy the vampire slayer. kissing. talks of sex but not directly smut, smut adjacent honestly. vampire! slayer! abby but strictly platonic to the reader. L-Bombs. betrayal. weapons (no guns just daggers n stakes). Ellie is super damon salvatore + katherine coded in this. food play(with cherries). biting. sub-ish loser! ellie. Toxic/dark! ellie

Adficio. To weaken, discourage. To damage or to break.

Adficio was your finger. Coated in the saltiest vibrant red, gooey, and thick. Liquids dripped down the sides of the cushioned flesh and flowed never-ending through you. It tasted metallic, iron pulsating through the liquid; and salty, overly salted. Your tongue ran over the edge of your finger at your paper cut. It stung miserably but you had to get back to work.

As if it wasn’t already late, the sun setting with a musky burnt orange across the sky peeking through the rounded church glass windows of the artifact museum you were ecstatic to go home. Excited to take the warmest shower until the water was scorching hot against your skin and sleep comfortably in your queen-sized plush bed.

You weren’t expecting any more customers this evening, especially with recent town curfews due to mysterious deaths you were preparing to leave right after the key twisted in the lock. With 20 minutes left until closing, you finished dusting off the case of the bookshelf, putting the cream coffee-tinted paper (with your blood still tinting a corner) away into the hefty black book with gold embedded in the spine. 

It was an interesting piece of literature, somewhere amongst the lines of old-town supernatural lore and purely fiction but you loved it. It made you hungry, yearning for just a bite wanting more, wanting to sink your teeth into your own flesh. It was important and delicate thin papered copies; and faulty legal documents about a vampire who was rumored to live forever. Pictures; missing from the pages with the name scribbled out in white out. No gun, no knife, no magical life-threatening injury could kill her and she was forever cursed with the pain and treachery to live forever. Although you knew it wasn’t real you still felt yourself being a conspiracist and empathetic. Almost remorseful for the forever young vampire who didn’t ask for a life of immortality. Everything was a little unfair, even for the mundane. 

A bell chimed, signally that someone had walked into the museum. Thick-soled boots against the dark wood, creaking beneath them with every step. Shunned light on a lanky and average-height girl, drenched in black from head to toe. You naturally ignored her presence, that was what the bell was for; for questions and giving you the excuse to actually be bothered. So you continued your lonesome activities as proceeded. Picking up your thick wool scarf, wrapping it around your neck in loops; turning off the monitors, and locking the registers. 

DING! 

Ellie hit the bell with a toothy smirk on her face. Eyeing your figure almost as if you were a bakery-crafted treat as Ellie ran her tongue against the tip of her pointy canines. 

“Hi” 

Just Hi? You scrunched up your face in confusion at the girl’s rather awkward and sudden intro, her voice was raspy yet soft n direct but she kept her communication clear. If you were being honest she looked dead. Skin pale and drained of any colors besides her cheeks and the root red on her lips, sunken circles around her green ember eyes. She didn’t even look real.

“We are about to close so any prolonged question can wait until tomorrow.” you confessed, keeping it short and sweet, as the girl in front of you only frowned. 

You turned your back for a second, reaching into the mini locker behind the desk to grab your coat and your keys, pulling the fabric closer to your chest, when amidst the silence —

DING! 

Ellie hit the bell again, making you groan as you turned slowly to look at the auburn-haired girl showcasing a sarcastic smile before reverting her face to a serious expression. 

“I am Ellie, and you…you look like you can help me” Ellie whispered sweetly; playfulness rang in her voice as she looked down at the black book that are on the counter. Drool almost dripped out as she looked at the book with her lips parted. 

“Did you miss the part where I said we were—”

“Closing soon, yeah yeah I got it. Don’t care, Listen I just need this book and I promise, I’ll be out of your hair” Ellie pleaded bringing her hands up in a prayer position as she gave you a pout. Slowly gliding her ring-coated fingers against the book, making you rush to pull on it from the other end.

“Sorry not for sale! This isn’t a library” 

“But it’s…fiction, right? You can make another one” Ellie pulled it into her more, her hands slightly overpowering the grip you had on the book.

“Rules are rules, nothing leaves this museum if it’s not rented” 

“So what I am hearing is I can have it?”

“For $100”

Ellie gasped.

“For free? thanks!~” Ellie gave one final tug loosening the book from your very hands and pulling it into her chest. 

“I’ll be back! [HEY!] Don’t worry! Don’t stress probably not with the book! [That’s stealing!] Not if it’s rented! Thank you for your help!” Ellie shouted as she bolted out the door, sticky fingers webbed around the book as she ran out.

Making you let out an exacerbated sigh at the odds. You were so going to get fired. 

Adiuvo  To help or to aid, to assist

If someone told you that the museum book thief would be your girlfriend you would have told them they were lying. It’s been 3 months since the two of you met; 2 that you have officially started dating, although it didn’t feel like it. 

Ellie was more secretive than you thought. A mansion to herself where she lived alone which was oddly dark and gothic, you were for certain she would have caused a black paint shortage. Her house was emblematic of a period piece from the 19th century almost a screenshot of a fragment of time. The only odd thing was the mirrors being covered in every corner. A black satin cloth draped over the gold ribbed mirrors almost stapled there with a DO NOT TOUCH! 

Ellie hated pictures, she hated phones and settled on a rather outdated Blackberry where she really could only text and make important calls.

Ellie also disappeared often during the day, you only ever really saw her when it was rainy or pushing 8 pm. She’d go ghost on a sunny day but made up for it by pampering you with gentle kisses until you were coated in purple at your neck. 

For all of her cons; sins and flaws; aka the disappearing act she made up for it every time. She made it impossible for you to leave. Caging you in by gifting you things that only a fool would leave behind. She gave you a gift of a dainty necklace, as her hands rubbed against your neck to your shoulders placing it right at the center, locking the clasp, and begging you to never take it off. Ellie’s hands didn’t move from behind you when she gave you the necklace that night. It was almost as if she tempted to choke you with it until you listened to her. So you nodded, grabbing onto the little charm, before bringing up a hand to your nose; scrunching your face up at the weird smell the necklace was emulating. Almost like rosemary, thieves, and rotting onion. But you didn’t ask questions, you couldn’t before she whisked you away with a brief kiss to your lips, nibbling at your moisturized lips. 

“You love me, right?” 

You loved her. With all your precious human beating heart you loved her. Loved her so much that you allowed her to get vulnerable with you that night in the bedroom.

Bashful yet bitchy and sarcastic Ellie became demonic, rough, and perfectly submissive. Ellie was a sucker for fruits. The one human food that didn’t make her stomach queasy and the only thing that could satisfy her cravings for your blood. Preferably all red to enhance the eroticism of the taste.

Ellie found passion in draining the juice out of cherries, swirling her tongue over the plump treat poking her fangs out, before dipping her head down gliding the juices amongst your neck from her tongue.

Ellie repeated this action again. Taking the gentle cherry and squeezing it over your neck, swirling its juices onto your skin with her slender fingers before chewing it whole. Licking her finger tips as she swallowed the fruit whole tossing the pit to the floor.

Ellie watched as your neck dripped the dark crimson liquid, rushing to lick it up; before any of it reached your sheets to leave a fresh splosh stain of red. Ellie was drunk off of the sight of you. Licking over you like a lollipop as her tongue scraped your neck, getting close to your ear.

Ellie lost control.

between the bittersweet taste of the cherries, your fresh and loud perfume it was driving her crazy. Ellie thought her head was screwed on tight, but smelling the scent of one she would call her lover Ellie wanted to do nothing more than cover you in her own. Mask you from the world, hiding you away in greed and hunger.

Her hands gripped at the sheets, fist balled up as she masked a moan struggling to do so when your hand was in her pants. Ellie unfolding like a red lace satin ribbon until she was nothing but a soul. Climax rising deeper…and deeper. You were rubbing up and down in between her folds as she shuttered to hold herself up. Your fingers wet and covered in her juices enough for the wetness to fill the room with a simple pat.

Ellie took the initiative to dig her own hand in between your sleep shorts, mirror your hand motions as the lewd sounds escaped your lips in pure appeasement. Clawing at her back like a cat with your freehand.

Ellie was heavy breathing as her pitch got louder and higher, hips bucking as her hair clung to her forehead in fits of sweat.

Ellie turned into nothing but a moaning mess that night. Shrouding her head in your neck pampering kisses until she couldn’t control the cobra shake of her sharpened fangs pricking her tongue, offsetting her tastebuds. No, she couldn't.

Ellie's mind was shouting a mixture of no's and yes's as she tried to pull away only for you to pull her closer. Ellie let out an animalistic growl muttering an oh fuck before she sunk her teeth into your neck.

“Fuck…wait” Ellie moaned out. She was glad you couldn’t see her face, eyebrows furrowed but her eyes a deep red as veins started to crawl through her skin preparing her to finish off the feed.

Ellie knew if she fed off of you she wouldn’t be able to stop. Until you were one of her, a vampire and your beating heart stopped. Like Ellie needed you, she needed the book; she was going to complete the prophecy.

It starts with you, her perfect pawn.

You tasted like a rich pomegranate in the summer, Ellie’s fangs pulsating as it was deep in the flesh on your neck. Shaking your tender flesh in between her teeth like a dog.

Ellie didn't draw blood but punctured the skin, wincing at the sound of your skin separating between her fangs through her gentle ears. You pushed her away squeezing your eyes closed in pain. Skin pulsing and stinging as her mouth left your neck.

“Ow!- did you just…did you just bite me?”

The redhead stopped, freckles coated a red flush amongst her pale skin, Ellie rambled a hundred sorries. Like a deer gone hunting the cherry juice stained her chin and around her mouth as if she had been messy eating and playing into a ruby lipstick. Stumbling and tripping over her feet as she rushed to put her shoes on and head for your front door as you shouted her name behind her.

Her hair was frazzled, her leather jacket discarded, and her fly unfortunately down.

Leaving you in a mess of saliva and cherry juice; with a pulsating bite mark in your kneck.

48 hours and a complicated reddit search later, with Ellie out of your hair; due to her shame and embarrassment was enough time for a blonde hair slayer to play witness protection.

You were steadily growing frustrated at the repetition of the doorbell ringing as the person on the other end was hitting it like a childish teenager playing ding-dong ditch. Rushing to the door slamming it open to be met with a tall buff blonde who was giving you a perfect smile. Likewise to Ellie, she was notably pale, the color drained from her face almost fading away to her hair making her look like a stoned statue. Thick raybands on her eyes as she held up a terribly condition detectives badge.

“Sorry to cause a disruption, but are you y/n?” The girl spoke up, leaning into her one arm that was posted up against the door creating a distance before the two of you. 

You remained silent pushing your knit cardigan closer to cover up your chest in the nippy pre-winter air. 

“I’m Abby, Abby Anderson and I believe you know someone who is being a threat to this town.”

You froze, eyeing Abby in front of you as she dug around into her leather jacket pocket, plucking out a very old square picture. Placing the picture face down into your hands allows you to unveil it as if it were a gift. Curiosity got the best of you, aching and throbbing fingertips as you vastly whipped it over to view your lover. Your heart felt as if a chain wrapped tightly around the delicate artery feeling as if the wind had knocked out of you. It was Ellie. Your Ellie but this time she was wearing Victorian clothing, a white blouse peeking through as it was a perfected headshot photographed with just the right amount of dusting and age. She was the missing piece of the book. The name scribbled out it was all her -- the book was all hers.

“I don’t…” you begin flipping the picture back over and putting it in front of Abby, with your hand out “I don’t know who this is. . .”

“I knew you would say that”

Abby snickered as she looked down rubbing her boots against your welcome matt, 

“I think its time we chat. Could I have a glass of water please” Abby sends a smile as you prepare to turn your back on the blonde in front of you

Abby was always ahead. Ahead of Ellie, ahead of you, she had been hunting for years. After an accidental bite forced her to succumb to vampirism, life only got hard. Abby shrouded herself away finding comfort in putting down ruthless bloodsuckers who had no better job than to compel humans and make them into a tasty blood margarita. Abby didn’t want the same fate for you. Watching Ellie like a hawk; perhaps a stalker. It was all for a good cause. Ellie was awfully sloppy with how she carried the people she fed from. Sinking her teeth into an innocent being as she drank…and drank until their bodies fell cold and limp against the pavement. Ellie let out a sly moan in satisfaction as she watched the life get sucked out of her victims. The blood dripped down her chin, blood-drunk as she laughed in satisfaction as she licked the blood off of her fangs, and from around her lips being careful not to waste a single damn drop. 

Ever since you got in the picture, Ellie’s sloppiness got worse than normal, her drinking patterns have gotten sloppier, and parts of her brain toyed with her. As she strolled the streets at night looking for her midnight snack, sucking the salted liquid through her fangs with her luscious eyes closed, fluttering against the tip of the apple to her cheeks. Ellie saw you. When her eyes closed she pretended that they were you, hell she would never actually do this to you but she couldn’t get your toxic scent out of her mind. Moaning into the neck that she feeds whispering your name as her fangs dig in deeper and suddenly she loses all control, killing the being in the process. Ellie was deeply flawed; allowing a human to get in between the priorities of her stone-cold heart, but whatever she wanted she was certain she would have. 

“I think you have to invite me in first, it’s impolite for me to walk into your wonderful home without permission” Abby confessed, lying straight through her teeth, she didn’t care what was right or wrong she just needed permission or else she wouldn’t be allowed in. 

Deja vu hit you, remembering how Ellie made the same statement the first time she came over to visit you apart from the museum. 

“You may come in”

Acerbus  Bitter, gloomy, and dark. 

Vampire. 

That was a word that was enough to make your stomach curl up into a million knots.

The cold ones. 

No one could have prepared you to put your girlfriend to rest. The person who you saw forever with, wanting to get married and have a couple of children too, was all nothing but a lie and impossible. It was so refreshing to you, like a kiss of air, and nature healing itself, but slowly your emotions and your joy turned into a rotting flower, decaying along with all of your emotions tinted black. Over the course of a few weeks, you’ve sharpened your knives and coated your doors in some kind of vampire repellent given to you by Abby. The blonde has taught you how to hunt and detect vampires, the power of the stake, and what unfinished business Abby had with taking down Ellie.

Ellie on the other hand, you haven’t seen in a few days. Maybe it was because you were distracted; the auburn girl turning to nothing but a whisper and rattle of the leaves, spiraling into another one of her disappearing acts. 

Now you stood at her very own tombstone, which seemed rather distasteful; bless you, but you were trespassing. Trailing behind Abby like a lost puppy as she took a hammer, drawing back her arm to slam onto the lock that was Ellie’s above-ground grave. Abby came up with a bright and elite plan on how to trap Ellie back at the museum, but the two of you couldn’t have done it without the weapon that knocked her into a stone coma for ages. No, it doesn’t kill her, but it would slow her down and freeze her until it was time for her to be brought back; which would be never. You thought it was beautiful, fresh marble and sleek black with roses surrounding the front entrance into her small 4x4 square, which the main entrance was blocked by a gate — with a hefty lock which you assumed was where Ellie’s casket had been placed. 

“The roses are fresh, I think it’s best if we hurry” Abby whispers, matching the tone of the wind that was spirling above the two of you.

Abby took her hands dragging them down at the lock which opened the gate to Ellie’s tomb. The inside was barely lit, with unlit candles surrounding Ellie’s coffin that had the lid wide open with chains dangling from it. Modern-day gothic– and eerie to the touch. As you took careful steps walking around it; it seemed almost impersonal. You wanted to cry and shrivel up, that the way you’d been living for 3 months was a lie, running your hands around the perimeter of her coffin as if you were looking down at a body inside. But there was nobody and you knew the worst would have to come for Ellie to soon return to her rightful place. Abby however got right to work, brushing past you to tap every corner of the brick, reaching for Ellie’s casket, and digging through the built-in cushions. Abby grunts until she stops when her fingers prick a sharp tool. 

“Ow!... I got it” Abby hissed as she pulled out a thick and sleek shiny silver dagger with Latin scriptures engraved into the handle and metal of the knife. Abby briefly wiped it against the leather, twirling it in her hand before taking a bag of mercury and dipping the tip of the knife into the material. All you could do is watch, stake in the back pocket of your jeans that was covered by your jacket. 

“So what now?” you pushed, putting a hand on your hip.

“We get the fuck ou—-”

Abby stopped talking briefly pulling you into a shadow, blocked by a pillar making you go unnoticed.

“What are you—” 

Abby shushed you, reaching a hand up to cover your mouth as you now heard what Abby was hearing. Strong, sloppy footsteps, walking into the tomb as the gate to the entranced creaked.

The stranger groaned before letting out a sniff into the air. 

“Y/n I know you’re here.” Ellie croaked, her voice slurring as she limped towards her own casket hovering over it with a loud creak as your body shook beneath Abby’s gentle touch. 

“The cats out of the bag babe, fuckin’... let’s just talk c’mon” Ellie pleaded as her boots squeaked against the floor as she was visibly pacing. 

You shook your head as Abby briefly turned your body around whispering to you.

It’s the only way. 

With that Abby pushed you out from the hiding spot making you let out a yelp as you stumbled onto the floor in front of Ellie. She looked demonic, unreal almost. Blood dripping down her chin spread against her chest, and her hair was a filthy mess. Her once-green eyes glowed a sweet red under the pale moonlight as she watched you crumble on the floor trying to stand up.

“There you are~” Ellie teased as she took a few steps towards you making you crawl back.

“Thought we were gonna have to play hide and seek glad you’re so smart” Ellie taunted as she turned around kicking over a few candles surrounding her casket. 

“What did you do?” You shouted, groaning as you used the nearby wall to push your weight up.

“Who did you kill?” 

Ellie laughed. You frowned; disgustedly watching as Ellie only laughed at your panicked state. She thought your fear was funny, she could smell it off of you. 

“Why? You scared?” Ellie jabbed tilting her head with a really? expression on her face. 

Ellie reached her arm out for you to take which you stared at as if she was infected, so she took it back rolling her eyes. Ellie slid off her leather jacket and threw it onto the floor at your feet giving you a perfect view of her spaghetti-strapped cami and the tattoo on her arm.

“I think of you when I feed you know…as my teeth sink down into someone so innocent, like a deer…”Ellie began as she walked towards you slowly making you walk backward moving away.

“Get away from me” you gritted taking the stake out from your back pocket and crossing it over your front pointing side up.

“Ooh~” Ellie teased as she walked even closer until the stake was lined up with her heart. “What are you gonna do, kill me?” Ellie whined giving you a false pout similar to when you first met her in the museum and she stole the book.

“Not even a kiss goodbye?” Ellie taunted, as her body hovered over yours pressing deepening to the stake that was carving into her shoulder.

“Only you could hurt me like this, god what are you doing?” Ellie whispered, with that the waterworks came through as you started to cry, sobbing viciously letting out cries of “get away” as she was in front of you.

“Shh…Shh…Shh” Elie started grabbing at your arms with a firm hold from the base of your wrist gripping tightly. “Don’t cry” Ellie comforted you as she kept one arm around yours holding the dagger and another one up at your temple to which she leaned in giving you a kiss on the cheek staining your cheek with blood. Not her blood or your own but someone else, making you cry even more.

“I don’t- I can’t…we’re over Ellie” You cried out, sniffling in between sobs as your head dropped in defeat. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you. . . I’m sorry for what I did. . .I can’t control it, you know that right?” Ellie took a large gulp as she backed away from you shaking out her hands. Ellie was suddenly getting nervous, panicking at the way you were crying.  “I just get these urges, I only feed when I want to feed off you so I don’t hurt you. Babe, please listen to me”

“I have to kill you.” You dropped the bomb as Ellie’s sudden panicked state turned defense; she was getting angry and hostile. “I let you into my home…I let you kiss me, I let you fuck me and you didn’t think once to tell me who you really were”

“How is that fair?”

Ellie was numb, staring at you; her lover with a deadpanned expression on her face, deprived of any emotion, she was being straightforward “If you are gonna kill me don’t use that it’s not gonna work” Ellie spat, backing away as she walked over to her coffin staring down at the white cushioning inside. Finally wiping her chin with the back of her hand. 

“You’re gonna let me kill you?” you inquired, lowering the dagger by your waist as you watched Ellie watch over her own coffin.

“Only you. Because I know eventually you’ll miss me and take it out and set me free.”

“You don’t know that” you shook your head.

“But I do, I always do” Ellie took the initiative to reach into the coffin similar to how Abby did when the two of you first entered the tomb, patting the bedding as her eyes scrunched up in confusion as she looked away from you.

“Wait where is it”

You knew what she was looking for.

“Y/n what did you do with the dagger that was in this coffin…god what is that smell who is in here with you” Ellie was growing pissed off; anger nagging at her as she was looking control again, fangs poking out on instinct as she grew hostile within the room.

“It’s just me…” 

Ellie shook her head closing the coffin. “No someone else is here I can feel them” 

“Ellie…it’s just me” you whispered, trying to convince her as best as you possibly good. There was no way she would buy it, but you could lie your ass off and hope she wouldn’t sniff out the hound. 

“You can’t kill me with that, I say you just go for it and let whoever took the main piece finish me off” 

“Ellie I can’t—”

“I love you!”

You froze, you were her lifeline her weakness. The tether that kept her together as your soul was indefinitely embedded in her own. I love you, so sentimental and meaningful you didn’t wanna use it lightly and in this moment you knew she wasn’t using it against you. 

“Hey…shhh don’t cry, I love you” 

You had no time to prepare, lost in her lustful green eyes, pupils dilating at the sight of you. As Abby snuck behind her, stabbing Ellie in the back making the both of you let out a gasp. Ellie looked down to her chest seeing the dagger poking through the other side of her body. Black blood pooled out and meshed with her black camisole. Ellie tilted her head to look at you, who had your arms steady around her shoulders so she wouldn’t tip over. Your Ellie gave you a faint smile. Your fear-stricken face, eyes wide as you looked at Abby who paced around Ellie to see if the dagger even worked. 

“H-have…fun”

“What?” you jabbed, face scrunching up in confusion. Ellie didn’t look afraid to die, hell she knew you would need her. Her words slurred as she was slowly succumbing to an endless slumber. 

“Have fun, my blood is….blood ‘n your veins…I’ve put…I put my blood in your tea. Good luck being a vampire baby fangs”

Baby fangs. 

Abby shouted NO! Behind you, but it was far too late. Ellie took out her hidden arm revealing a similar dagger to her very own; raising her arm up reflexively to jab it into your own neck as your blood started to pool out. No, it wasn’t going to kill you permanently. However, it would trigger a death into human you and allow you to become what Ellie was. What you tried so hard not to be. 

A bloodthirsty vengeful vampire. 

You panicked at your slow-beating heart; transcending you into a state of permanent drowsiness and immortality. Beats moving slower and slower as if your heart was put in a freezer locker and your body was chilling over. There was nothing you could do, it was too late. Tears pricked your eyes as a salty clear tear dripped down your face as you felt yourself lose consciousness collapsing on top of your already stoning lover. She betrayed you, the sneaky sly fox was ahead of you. A wolf in sheep’s clothing 

“I told you I loved you.”

© cowgirlcherrie

[maskedcop10]

IA created by dronifier-b45

A special close up from the mask of the amphibian man when he is ashore. The various tubes, valves and gauges are part of his life support to keep him alive. The mask and suit are air tight and kept the amphibian man moist so his body would not dry out. The special helmet is filled with a special liquid to breath and the liquid is also pumped into his gills. The special rubber nose cap let the special liquid flow into his nose and lungs This was the only way the amphibian man could survive ashore. The procedures to get an amphibian man ashore was is always a lot of work and risky. The amphibian man was now totally sealed inside his own environment. With a suit like that he could stay out of the water for some hours. The briefing the amphibian man were attending was about new developments and new creations of amphibian men. They were sitting in the large meeting with some more technicians and various high rank navy officials. The amphibian man were sitting at a table where the rest took place as well. There helmets were black so no one could see the men. The only sound was their breathing. Slowly and steady breathing was heard, their communication was done by computers. The meeting was long and the amphibian had no problem, their body reactions were monitored by the technicians. One of the technicians who was sitting opposite one of the amphibian man was so turned on by them. He wanted to be alone with one of them, but that would be rather difficult, those men were checked 24/7. He followed one of them to their special quarters. It was a total restricted area only for special technicians. The amphibian man was let in the special air tight room and the technician moved inside as well. The amphibian man took a relaxed chair His monster size meat was now showing as well under his special suit. The technician stood in a corner with a rock hard on, this would be his change to play with such an creature. The amphibian man slowly placed his thick gloved hand over his large bulge. It has been some time since he pumped a load inside a buddy. A large tube was now inserted inside his large meat. He already released several loads. The technician walked over and moved his hand over the complex helmet with the various tubes  

[icu-fetish]

Even if just for a moment…

I still can’t open my eyes, but I listen to the sounds, feel the smells. I feel everything: the soft gown wrapping around my body, the medical cap, convenient for the nurses so my hair doesn’t get in the way. The cervical collar is rigid but comfortable, though it reeks of sharp antiseptic. My neck is still injured, the pain dulled but throbbing whenever my muscles tense with the slightest spasm.

The tubes, needles, catheters scare me… The urinary catheter has become a part of me – I’ve gotten used to it, to this strange sensation of its presence. Other catheters deliver fluid, sending a faint chill through me, as if cold seeps into my veins. It’s unpleasant. And, I admit, a little frightening.

The oxygen mask presses tightly against my face, its plastic edges digging into my cheeks, leaving a noticeable pressure. The air is cold and dry, my throat parched, each breath a forced effort beyond my control. The rhythmic hissing of the oxygen irritates me, blending with the sharp beeping of the cardiac monitor tracking my weak heartbeats. Sometimes the monitor emits a double beep – a warning of low oxygen levels in my blood. It doesn’t reassure me; it only reminds me that I’ve become a plant, dependent on this hissing that forces my body to breathe. And that scares me more than the catheters. But I’m still alive. And that’s the only thing that matters.

The nurses speak in hushed voices, but the noise of the machines drowns out their words. The cardiac monitor beeps, the oxygen hisses, and I barely catch a fragment: “She needs to be intubated.” The voice is calm, but the words hit like a blow. Is it really that bad? I want to move, to scream, to ask what’s happening, but my body is just a shell that won’t obey. Paralyzed, I hear gloved fingers touch my arm, checking the catheter. A cold, almost mechanical touch. The word “intubation” spins in my head. I know what it means – a tube in my throat, a machine that will take away the last shred of my control. Fear grips my chest, but I can’t even flinch. I can only listen. Only feel. And that’s all I have left.

A light prick in my vein. A cold wave of medication spreads through my arm, and my consciousness drifts, as if in a fog. I slip away. Then – awakening.

Something has changed. There’s a foreign pressure in my throat – a plastic tube, as if it’s grown into me. An endotracheal tube. I can’t feel my lungs, only the mechanical rhythm – inhale, exhale, the click of the machine. The sound has changed: instead of the oxygen mask’s hissing, there’s a dull, rhythmic hum of mechanical breathing. The machine breathes for me. Is this the end? Someone touches my neck – cold, gloved fingers remove the old collar. The new one is heavier, pressing tighter against my skin, smelling of fresh plastic and antiseptic. Why did they change it? A worsening condition? Surgery? An MRI? My thoughts tangle, like frayed threads. I want to cough, to push out this tube, but my body is just a cage holding my consciousness. I hear a whisper: “Stable, but her pressure’s dropping.” What else will they do to me? Something clicks near my shoulder – another catheter? Cold liquid flows through my veins again, sending a shiver through me. Fear pulses in my head, but I can’t even clench a fist. I can only listen. Only feel. And it’s so little…

I’m getting used to it. There are no other options. My consciousness is the only thing that still belongs to me, but even it dissolves in the rhythm of the machines. Cold fluids pour into my veins, one after another. Medication? Saline? I don’t know. They’re always cold, like an icy river flowing through me, reminding me that I’m still alive. But am I alive?

The nurses clean my breathing tube. I feel them carefully suctioning the mucus that builds up in my throat. It’s disgusting, but I no longer recoil in my mind. It’s terrifying when they turn off the machine. The air stops. My lungs are an empty shell, unable to breathe on their own. The seconds stretch into eternity, and I scream in my head: “Turn it on! Turn it on!” But they always manage to. So far, they manage to. Maybe I’ll get used to this too.

They change the catheters constantly. I feel every movement – the slight pain as the old one is removed, the cold touch of the new one. Time has lost meaning. The clock in my head has stopped, and I don’t know if hours, days, or maybe weeks have passed.

But today, something changed. They removed the cervical collar. I felt that lightness. My skin breathes, though the antiseptic smell still clings to it. The important thing is that I understand this. I feel it. Maybe I can wake up?

But what if it’s just an illusion? What if I’m forever trapped here – a mechanical doll, connected to tubes and wires that mimic life? The hissing of the machine, the rhythm of the cardiac monitor, the cold of the medication – this is my world now. But somewhere deep inside, where I still exist, there’s a spark. It trembles, faint, but it doesn’t fade.

I don’t know if I’ll wake up. I don’t know if I’ll ever breathe on my own again. But I listen. I feel. And maybe that’s enough to hold on a little longer. To keep that spark from fading. To remain myself – not a doll, but me. Even if just for a moment…

Zalim İstanbul (E34)

Dila Hanım (E56)

[thisblogisaboutabook]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

Azriel x Reader - Fluff - One Shot

While getting over a breakup, a performer in a Velaris tavern catches the attention of a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Alcohol, Implied hook-up

The notes flowed effortlessly through my fingers onto the ivory keys of the tavern’s antique piano. I’d played the song more times than I cared to admit over the past several months yet the angst of it had yet to be lost on me.

Tonight was particularly lively as the High Lord and Lady’s inner circle made their way into the tavern. One of the nicer pleasure halls in Velaris yet not as alluring as Rita’s, which was closed this week as they install an updated dance floor and modernize the bar’s serving area.

Once word spread of the prestigious guests, a plethora of onlookers flowed in the front doors. It had been a while since the bouncer actually had a line to attend to.

Attendees made requests, many tunes of a more risqué variety in hopes of a sultry dance against THE Morrigan. Who could blame them? She was lovely. Not in a soft and gentle way - but in a powerful, warm, seductive sort of way. Those that didn’t want to be with her, wanted to be her. Males and females alike tried and failed to get close enough for a dance but she stayed close to the remainder of the inner circle on the dance floor, so lost in the music that she hadn’t even noticed the desire flowing around her.

The Shadowsinger had also come out tonight. Though he evaded the dance floor, guarding their corner table diligently. An emotionless, bordering cold stare plastered on his face as he monitored the place. Ever the watchful friend, ensuring nobody stepped out of line. Many patrons gazed from afar, whispering words of encouragement as to who could work up the nerve to approach. The more brazen guests going as far as to take a few steps closer before being put off by his intimidating presence without him even making eye contact with them.

After a recent break up - recent putting it lightly - it had been months but who was counting? I’d taken to spending my weekends in this tavern. One evening, after far too many shots of liquid courage, I began playing on the piano while singing raunchy limericks and catchy tunes I’d picked up over the years during my travels through Prythian. Despite his odious reputation, some of my favorite limericks came from the High Lord of the Spring Court whom I’d never met personally. The poems coming in slurs from drunken participants of the Great Rite many years ago, the Calanmai where I met my former lover.

We’d connected instantly - literally and figuratively - and spent several wonderful years together. Until, damn the cauldron, he found his mate earlier this year. What are years together in the face of fate? Fate having a wicked sense of humor. How lucky for me that his mate dwelled in the city that I had introduced him to, MY city. They’d come into this very tavern shortly after the breakup, kindly leaving just as abruptly they came in. A futile effort of sparing me the heartache. Truthfully, he wasn’t a cruel male. He didn’t know I played here - and I didn’t hate him. But I resented it. All of it.

Which lead me to the song I was currently belting out at this piano. The song I’d written immediately after arriving back to my apartment that night, whiskey in one hand, fountain pen in the other.

“…And you're sitting in front of me at the restaurant, when I was still the one you want

Cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right.

I, I could feel the mascara run. You told me that you met someone, glass shattered on the white cloth

Everybody moved on

Help, I'm still at the restaurant, still sitting in a corner I haunt, cross-legged in the dim light

They say, What a sad sight"

Despite the angsty, brooding lyrics, the tone was catchy and very easy to move along to. The more frequent patrons of the establishment had come to know this as a staple in my evening set, belting out the lyrics right along with me.

The song was my closing for the evening as I packed up, ready to head out. One of the attendees brought a glass of my favorite whiskey to me, nodding to the beautiful brooding male at the Inner Circle’s table.

Interesting.

I nodded a thank you with a brief raise of my glass to the Spymaster, as a little shadow swirled around my wrist with a gentle tug in his direction.

Who was I to turn him down? Aside from a steaming bath and smutty novel, I had nothing waiting for me to return home.

I casually strode to his table, giving a little smirk before sitting in front of him. Licking my lip before raising the glass to my mouth, lifting an eyebrow as I locked eyes with him.

“I didn’t realize Spymaster involved sussing out a lady’s drink of choice.”

A cool, bemused expression settled on his face as he took a sip from his own glass. “While my skill set is quite impressive, I asked the attendant for the bartender to send you a glass of your favorite.”

“I see. Well, thank you.” I replied, giving him time to continue the conversation or bid a farewell.

“You wrote that song.” He stated, not a question. Spymaster indeed.

For emphasis, I threw back a large swig of my liquor. “I did. Did you like it?”

He met my gaze with a contemplative glean in those hazel eyes, “Yes, no. Yes, the song was good. No, I did not like the truth behind the words. It felt too… relatable.”

I ran my fingers back through my hair letting it loosely fall back into place, and sighed. “Looks like we’ll both need another drink then.” Turning to the nearby attendee and signaling two fingers.

Two drinks turned to three, and four, by the end of the night we had laughed, one-upped eachother on who was unluckiest in love, and I was practically in his lap as we boisterously toasted a cheeky “Damn, the cauldron!” to which a nearby couple audibly gasped. We both muttered quick “apologies” turning away as we muffled our laughter into each others shoulders. He graciously sent the pair a shot with our next round of drinks.

The place started clearing out as the lights brightened and the keep yelled out a last call. Both of us hesitant to call it a night as we stepped into the brisk cold. “Walk me home, Shadowsinger?”

“Azriel. Call me Azriel.” He smiled. “I actually have something better in mind. Join me for a night cap?” He extended a hand.

Holding my hand out to squeeze his reassuringly, I replied, “Y/N. I’d be delighted.”

He eagerly swept me into his arms and darted into the sky, aiming for the House of Wind. The city lights quickly fading into twinkling stars.

Our pulses fluttered with anticipation as I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. When I pulled back to meet his eyes, he gave me a mischevious grin and briskly swooped down then back up. I flicked his nose to which he laughed, tilting his head downward to plant a kiss on my forehead.

I finally left the restaurant…

And my dress on his bedroom floor.

[sweetlikesummerhoney]

hell or heaven sent

human jazz x amab reader

implied mafia! autobots

strip club. drugs. harassment/unwanted groping.

the bass flows through the room like a heartbeat, lights dimly lighting the floor and the mass of bodies beneath it. the music reverberates through the building as people gyrate, grinding up against each other and chatting.

it smells heavily of perfume and cologne, bitter tasting alcohol, and the slight musk of sweat. the deep, dark wood bar is surrounded by people, some waving at the bartender and others trying to chat up and find a partner for the night.

the stage is lit with sensual colors as women barely dressed grind against poles, people and each other. stray bills are thrown onto the stage as people whoop and holler, greedy eyes squinting at any and all exposed skin.

you huff to yourself, arms folding across your chest as you watch. the club owner had hired you as a bouncer, but as his business slowly grew, you had been moved inside to monitor any and all suspicious activity.

sometimes you have to watch deals behind closed doors. where lips are shut and eyes remain closed. unseen and unheard.

your eyes dilate as you sweep the room, watching scantily clad women trip over their heels, laughing with each other.

at a few tables you can see piles of colorful pills, blunts in hands, and wads of money.

its a normal night. as always.

you walk around, boots clicking against the hardwood floor as you watch your step. you see smiles and smirks, women and men eyeing you up like their starved and you're a five course meal on a platter.

hands ghost your back as you approach the bar, watching people part like the red sea as you approach. the bartender takes one look at you before grabbing a glass and pouring a generous splash of amber liquid.

you nod in thanks as you lean against the bar, slowly folding the sleeves of your button up to your elbows. smooth skin hits the light as you stretch, feeling eyes on you as you roll your shoulders back.

someone's nails ghost against the back of your head as you turn, an eyebrow cocked at the woman before you. you can smell the alcohol on her breath as you look into her eyes, slightly bloodshot and dilated to hell.

you cock your head down at her, watching as she leans closer to you. her hands ghost over your chest and pull at the collar of your shirt, desperate to touch what lies beneath.

you gently trap her wrists between hers as you lean closer, lips ghosting closer to her ear as she giggles.

"and what would you like, dear?"

she shuffles in her place, her red high heels clacking against the floor as she smiles. "you." you huff softly, grimacing to yourself at the way her hips sway as she leans further into you.

jazz’s words echo in your head as you bite your tongue, preventing harsh words from escaping plush lips.

'play nice.'

you could practically feel the invisible collar at your throat being tugged at, a harsher reminder at what your job is. your purpose. all you want to do is lash out. let those dark thoughts take control and snap bones like twigs.

but you stop yourself. all you can hear is his words echoing in the back of your head.

be good.

stuck in thought, you jump at the way her clammy hands reach beneath your shirt, running them to grope at defined, smooth muscle beneath. you grit your teeth as you whisper, hands clenched at your side as you growl.

"keep your hands to yourself." she smirks as her lips perk into a pout, batting her eyelashes as she asks.

"and what'll happen if I don't?"

the words get stuck in your throat as your eyes snap to someone behind her. you recognize that leather jacket anywhere.

you watch as jazz slowly makes his way across the club, a smile gracing his face as he greets everyone. shaking hands and brushing his hand against the waists of people he passes.

his strides are confident and sure, powerful as he gets closer. you can see the way his rings glisten in the limelight as he laughs at something some one said. it seems like practically everyone has their eyes on him.

even the bass seems to increase as he approaches, practically in sync with your beating heart.

you faintly wonder if he can feel it through the floorboards with each step he takes.

the woman presses herself further against you, practically grinding against you as you jolt, attention coming back to her as she brushes her manicured hand against your crotch.

you gently push her back, but she only continues as you try to evade her advances.

you can feel someone's gaze as you look back up, meeting jazz's dark eyes as they narrow. your lips press into a thin line as his pace quickens. his smile turns a bit darker as he greets the bartender, shaking his hand before laying his hands on the shoulder of the girl dressed in red.

she bats her eyelashes as she looks up, a bigger smile gracing her face as she happily exclaims.

"jazz!" the pitch of her voice has you flinching. jazz's grip on her shoulders has her taking a few steps back, releasing you from her tight grip. there’s no flash of recognition in his eyes as he spares her a single glance.

her eyes gleam as she whispers and giggles to herself as jazz looks at you. his eyes are piercing as he gives you a once over as he utters your name in a raspy, deep tone.

"and who is this?" the girl introducers herself eagerly, her attention turned to jazz as she plays with the zipper of his jacket.

she looks coyly at him, ghosting her red nails against his chest as she eyes him up. he's the spitting image of adonis.

dressed in dark clothing and a leather jacket that clings to broad shoulders. his dreads loose and against his back, rings gently clinking together as he shifts.

he looms down at you, eyes never leaving yours as he speaks. all you can do is gulp and try to avoid his gaze.

their voices go in and out as they seem to have a conversation, and all you can do is step back and try to disappear back into the crowd.

"...he's just playing hard to get." a sneer forms on your face as you shake your head, glaring into jazz. he's staring directly at you as he speaks, paying no mind to the woman pressed up against him. his eyes flitter to your clenched fists to the way your shoulders are high and tensed.

you stop dead in your tracks as he speaks your name again, watching cockily as a shiver rolls up your spine.

stay.

"how's it goin?"

you shrug, teeth clenched as you move your jaw. a simple good sufficing as you force yourself to relax, feeling pin pricks of pain where dull nails dug into the palms of your skin.

his attention turns back to the lady as he leans closer, his breath ghosting as he speaks.

you cannot hear what he says, but you can only imagine as you see all color drain from her face.

jazz's grip against her shoulders turns brutal, almost bruising as he speaks low against her. the chains around his neck twist and clink against each other as he gets closer to her face.

she trembles in his grasp.

"i'm sure you want to play around. he's lovely, isn't he?" she flinches at the sudden change of tone, trying to jolt away from his grip.

"but my guard dog doesn't seem very happy about you." he frowns, eyes narrowed into slits as he growls.

"i suggest you move on."

her eyes dart between you and him as she shudders out of fear, her arms trembling as she gasps for air.

it's almost as if he was strangling her, the way she reacts to him.

"or perhaps, you would like to see the consequences of touching what isn't yours?"

you watch as he smiles, observing quietly as she quickly darts off, tears in her eyes as she disappears into the crowd.

jazz takes a few purposeful steps before pinning you against the bar, one hand against your waist as the other presses against the hollow of your neck.

a few long dreads fall over his shoulder as he leans closer.

"i told you to play nice. not to allow dirty whores to touch you." your breath gets caught in his chest as he towers over you. you shuffle further, the backs of your shoes hitting the back of the bar as he catches you.

the leash pulls taunt.

his jean clad leg presses between yours, kicking them apart as he lets you catch your balance.

you have nothing to say as he slowly grips your neck, his teeth brushing against your ear as you shudder against him. the warmth radiating off him has you wanting to press closer.

he's like a magnet. but all he wants to do is devour you whole.

he grinds his leg into your crotch, smirking as he feels your cock twitch at the pressure.

"good dogs obey."

"but you haven't been good, have you?" you keen softly against him as his eyes rove over you, looking at your half unbuttoned shirt, tussled hair and exposed skin.

you feel your face get warm as he brushes his lips against the corner of yours, a small whine escaping your lips as he forces your hips against his bouncing leg.

you follow his touch as he pulls away, eager and awaiting his attention as he smiles down at you.

"come."

and like the obedient dog you are, you obey.

[blushingblurbs]

Stomach Virus + Taco Tuesday + Waterslide =

= a waterslide slicked in diarrhea + a landing zone full of vomit + one very ill man.

Onlookers were really upset by the scene and the closure of the slide.

“He should’ve stayed in if he was sick!” “How do you not hold it?” “A grown man shit himself?”

But others, and the staff, just shook our heads grimly. This virus comes on mostly without warning, and the turbulent waterslide and poolside snacks on top of Taco Tuesday pushed this man’s infected stomach past its limits.

The lifeguard and slide monitor said they heard his whooping turn into a wail and yelling, but far and away, it was the change in water color everyone saw first.

It hasn’t even been 24 hours since the previous night’s Taco Tuesday, and it showed in what was passed down the slide.

A slimy, with soft pieces in a toxic brown-yellow liquid hit the landing area just after his wails reached everyone’s ears. Only, neither the sound nor flow stopped, as defecated bits of…taco? Enchilada? pooled up.

The first guard thought it was vomit for a split second, but the others in the crowd claimed they knew right away that it was fecal matter.

Before anyone could react, the man plunged from the slide, flailing and splashing, into his own chlorinated diarrhea.

The slide doesn’t filter into a pool, just a long shallow tub. The mess didn’t have anywhere to go, and between flailing in the after to stop moving and trying to grab at the seat of his swim trunks, he covered himself and splashed a bit into the air.

When he finally stopped moving in the water, he started to stand, realized he was in literal pool of his own diarrhea with a horrified crowd, and promptly vomited a gush of epic proportions. No belch, nothing, just an open mouth with sick pouring out.

Lifeguards got him out and wrapped in a towel, but not before he anxiously pushed them away screaming for the bathroom. He accepted the towel when he realized the closest bathroom was across the pool area, groaning angrily as he wrapped it tightly around his middle. We’d learn later that he’d soil himself in the towel again, his digestive system ejecting dinner so violently that he’d demand two more. He complained to the nurse that the slide was as out of control as his intestines and the crowd.

[kabu-uang]

J'onn J'onzz and danny!!dannydanny!!

thinking about writing a J'onn and Danny-centric dimension travel crossover where it's that whole "League thinks Danny Phantom is an alien" shebang only with a focus on similarities between Danny and J'onn occurring. Just. Oh! you have a tail sometimes! Your aura is a pretty green! Look at that, you can go intangible! OmG! I'll post here and on ao3 once I get the first chapter done smh for now, here's a snippet! ~~~

J’onn is one of the first of the League to notice the presence of something else in the glittering space outside the Watchtower. It’s his job to notice and monitor when he can. He is one of the most sensible when it comes to unforeseen circumstances. And like a tingling sensation in the back of his mind, like water gently flowing over the outsides of his consciousness, J’onn becomes aware of a sentient but unfamiliar being nearby. 

The presence wavers unnaturally. Of course, this could be a survival tactic or perhaps a trait of being’s race. J’onn is very aware of the different people that exist across this galaxy and the next. But as someone who is factually and studiously aware of said different people, J’onn can assume with some confidence that the presence that manages to whimper its creeping existence is not doing so with thought and intention. It feels, at the very least, not hostile. However, the way it pulls itself through zero gravity like tears falling down a face is something to be worried over.

J’onn opens his eyes and stares out through the glass. His mouth opens, though he closes it soon after.

Already, there is a task force gently floating outside around the amorphous ball of what seems to be neon-green, liquid gas and matter. Through communicators, J’onn calmly gives notes and instructions to the heroes handling the situation. He watches as a Green Lantern manifests a large, soft-edged scoop that mildly nudges towards the blob. 

J’onn suppresses a wince as the waterfall caressing his mind glaciers slightly, a guard being put up and a sharp sting of fear!no!whoareyou!stayaway!! pierces into his thoughts like crumbling icicles. He quickly advises his coworkers to pause and they easily do so. The Lantern’s construct is quickly dispersed and space is given back to the being. J’onn tilts his head. Then, with some difficulty, J’onn attempts to project thoughts of concern over to the creature.