#tw chemical restraints

[serickswrites]

Little Thing

Warnings: captivity, chemical restraints, drugging, implied noncon, creepy/intimate whumper

"Oh you sweet, precious, little thing," Whumper cooed as they cupped Whumpee's cheek. "I am going to enjoy taking my time with you." They kissed Whumpee on the lips.

Whumpee couldn't move. They could barely breathe. It took everything in them to keep their eyes open, and even then, they could feel their grip on the consciousness slipping. They weren't sure what Whumper had injected them with. All they knew was that they could barely move and the moment their world began to grow hazy, Whumper began to touch them.

"You are such a lovely, little thing," Whumper kissed down Whumpee's neck. "I just had to make you mine. So lovely, so perfect."

Whumpee blinked back tears as Whumper kissed down their exposed chest. This was unspeakably evil. This was something they did not want to be awake for. This was the worst thing Whumpee had experienced.

"Don't worry, little thing," Whumper looked up at Whumpee across their body, "I'll be gentle with you. I want you to last longer than some of the others."

Whumpee closed their eyes, allowing themself to drift closer to unconsciousness. They didn't want to be awake for the next part. Mercifully, the waiting dark consumed them.

[agentsquirrelsgotrobots]

In a transformers-to-humans au:

The rescue bots didn't have time to flinch before the relic activated.

Heatwave came back to consciousness to Dani putting stitches in the neck of a screaming and wriggling nine year old, the painkillers clearly working a little too well on the struggling boy.

"Kid! Kid, stop, you are going to drown in your own blood if you don't stop moving. Dad, help me. Kade, check on the bots."

Kade offered Heatwave- a hand? And he took it, noting his now brown skin. Brown was the wrong word for it, but all he could think of to describe it was food names, and that wouldn't go over well with the audience of this fic. Anyway, Heatwave was now Hispanic with salt and pepper hair, and Blades is an aged up version of his canon holoform. Please don't murder the author over the character descriptions. He's the color of boiled chicken and can't describe a human being to save his life.

Chase was white with black hair and blue eyes, and Boulder was also white with grayish brown hair and a big smile. There, all the information you need, now let's move back to the boy vomiting up blood all over Dani.

Surprise, the boy had, in fact, started vomiting up blood that he had previously swallowed. He had also started to claw at Charlie, who was pinning him to Blades's stretcher so the gash in his neck could be sutured and stitched shut. On Charlie's orders, Graham removed a sedative from Dani's medical bag and handed it to her. She stepped back from the stretcher, measured out a low dose, and injected it into the boy's thigh.

After a few more seconds of thrashing, the boy relaxed, and Charlie stepped away from the stretcher and helped Kade with the transformed Rescue Bots. Miraculously, the vehicle modes were separated from the new humans, and the former Bots were all unharmed but confused.

Luckily, the town was cued into the alien thing, so this fic won't be a nightmare to write.

Blades, who were the last to wake up, rushed to Dani's side. "Dani, what can we do?"

"The laceration missed all major arteries but shredded the vocal chords. As much as I hate using chemical restraints, having dad help me was making him even more distressed, and his vitals were already not great. He's stable now, and you can keep an eye on him while I fly the helicopter back to the mainland." Dani had gotten the stretcher into the helicopter while she was talking, getting into the pilot's seat.

A very tired sounding Optimus redirected Dani to a military base near the Canadian border. There, she wasn't surprised to see Ratchet's alt mode and a grumpy human that looked exactly as you would expect a humanized Ratchet to look like.

An old white man with red glasses and graying ginger hair, with a five year old white boy that was dressed as if he had stepped away from a NASCAR pit crew, minus the dirt and stains, clinging to his lab coat. Ratchet had track marks in his elbows, a leftover from his brief experiments with Syth-en. Smokescreen was shaking, a very patient June crouched next to him, trying to convince him to let Ratchet go.

Ultra Magnus had none of it, the man pulling him away with a yank on his shoulder. His military general dress uniform was impeccably clean, though Miko wiped her sticky, powder sugar-coated hands on the tail of his jacket before handing Smokescreen a jelly glazed one. Apparently, they had stopped for Dunkin Donuts.

Ultra Magnus ran a hand through his short black hair, bemoaning Smokescreen's longer cut. They could have easily passed for father and son, and now that the author thinks about it, Chase looked a lot like Magnus too...

That's besides the point, Bumblebee is nine and was puking blood ten minutes ago.

Optimus picked the former bot now identified as Bumblebee up and carried him into Unit E's military hospital, careful to make sure that Bee's head was angled in a way that he wouldn't choke if more blood came up.

The doctors confirmed Dani's theory, and besides a neck brace and some pain medication, there was nothing they could do to repair the boy's vocal chords.

Bee woke up in a hastily thrown together bedroom, Optimus waking up at the sound of Bee's strained gurgle, pink tinged drool trailing down his neck. Optimus wiped it away and sat him up, where he threw up nothing but bile. June came in with some water and rubbed Bumblebee's back while he drank in small sips. Luckily, he kept it down well enough to try some food from June's bag, which he gobbled down eagerly with his medicine.

"The Decepticons are human too." Optimus said. "I am shipping out tonight with some Marines to kill him. If I want to keep him and Smokescreen in our care, I have to go. Bee, hopefully I will see you in two weeks. If not, Fowler will help to get you and Smokescreen into good foster homes." Bumblebee reached for a hug, and Optimus wrapped him in one, pulling the hood over his cleaned and returned cat-eared yellow hoodie. Bee smiled, and June pulled out two somethings she had picked up for him when she went shopping for Smokescreen and Bee.

Bee snatched the Minecraft bee plush as if he was afraid June would take it back, burying his face in the soft plush, a goofy smile on his face.

"And, I have something else too. I was talking with some of the medical staff, and we decided that this might be the best option for the time being." June pulled out a tablet in a blue case. "Bee, this tablet has a special software package called an AAC. Through it, it has thousands of words programed into it that you can use to speak without speaking. Of course, if you want to learn and use sign language, that is completely up to you, and we can arrange that. But, for now, this might make communication easier if you are up to using it. It's also a normal cheap kids tablet, so if you decide you don't like it, I can take the software off, and you can use it like an iPad."

"Yes. Want. Will learn. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Crap. Vagina. Stomach. " Clearly, Bumblebee liked it.

"June, why the swear words and organs?" Optimus asked.

"The software isn't able to be age locked, and it's not like Bumblebee doesn't know what those words mean."

"Yeah, you're right." Optimus got up and left to get packed up to ship out to the downed Nemesis.

Spoiler alert, assassinations are a lot easier when sniper rifles are an option. The war was over in literally three gunshots. Optimus had a laugh over Predaking being turned into a Great Dane wearing a harness with foam butterfly wings. He fell asleep on Optimus's feet on the way back to base, the Burns being gifted a very big lapdog.

Fowler arranged for the purchase of a big old house on Griffin Rock for Ratchet, Optimus, and Bumblebee, who were very happy to live out their old gay couple and adopted son dreams on an island where nobody even batted an eye at them.

Chase took in Smokescreen and Strongarm, who oddly enough was fifteen, a seventeen year old Sideswipe staying with a forty year old Grimlock at the junkyard.

Ultra Magnus joined the military as a strategist, Wheeljack as a ballistics expert.

Breakdown and Knockout opened a luxury auto body shop.

Arachnid, unsurprisingly, continued being a horrifying serial killer and is still at large to this day, though she is buried behind Knockout's auto body shop after she tried to kill Breakdown yet again.

Also, Knockout did give Arcee Arachnid's skull and hands as trophies, but if anyone asks, Optimus definitely doesn't know about it and certainly doesn't have Megatron's brain in a jar in his closet.

[bunni-writing-desk]

Nurse Way

nurse!Gerard Way x nb!Reader (less romantic more nurse and patient relationship)

word count: 1,457

Warnings: unsafe/unprofessional medical practices, impromptu surgery, unneeded use of restraints, could trigger medical trauma, Gee knows what he's doing I swear, mentions of needles. (Gee is nice in this just a little unhinged), proofread by Grammarly

please if you feel uncomfortable or are triggered by any of those things do not continue to read. This is for entertainment purposes, I promise you don't have to read it.

[artist: annie-jpg55 @annie-jpg55]

Getting out of your car and closing the door, you took hesitant steps towards the run-down-looking clinic. The only one that was open and close enough for you to get to as soon as possible. You held your stomach as the pain shot through you with every step. Your only thoughts consist of 'just make it inside you'll be okay' and 'pain pain pain ow ow pain-'.

Using all of your leftover strength, you pushed open the door that was surprisingly light. Barely getting a foot in the door, you heard a high-pitched yet somewhat gentle voice across the room, "Hello sweetie, what can I do for you?" When you looked up you found a person with light brown hair, clipped back, with an old nurse cap on. You assumed, according to the uniform, that this was of course a nurse. The outfit seemed extremely out of date making them seem eerie, their smile doing nothing to help this feeling.

The waiting room area that you entered wasn't extremely dirty but had a run-down feel to it. The overstuffed leather seats had small cracks and holes in them, showing the aging foam underneath. The linoleum flooring looked off-white, the kind of off-white you get from not cleaning just enough.

Once you finally made it to the front desk that the nurse was standing behind you could see just how clean their uniform looked compared to the room around you. You had also realized in that moment, apart from you and the nurse, there wasn't another soul in the waiting room, except for possibly dead ones. Leaning on the front desk and gaining a little energy you spoke, "Hi I need to see a doctor or something.." The nurse at the desk gave you a bright smile. "Okay I just need a little information, what is your first and last name and date of birth?" You answered both questions and they wrote both down on a sheet of paper in front of them. You looked around the desk for a computer that you usually see in clinics only to find small stacks of papers and a cup full of pencils and highlighters. 'That's strange, no computers? Old nurse uniform? Old seats?' All of this set alarms off in your mind and yet you did nothing. 'Too late now I guess. They already have my information.'

The nurse, who didn't even have a name badge, picked up a clipboard from the desk and slipped the paper onto it. They took a few steps from behind the station and said a cheerful "Follow me" before walking off down the hall from the left of the desk. You managed a pace that kept up with them, still causing you pain but you gritted your teeth and hoped the room was near.

Suddenly the nurse stopped, abruptly enough to cause you to stumble a bit over your feet. They turned to you, swiveling on their feet, and opened the door to the room they stopped by. "Go on in!" Their tone almost seemed too cheery, not in a bubbly sense but more of an off-putting and unfaltering happiness. Managing a hobble into the small room you saw a metal table. 'Outdated.' You thought about how this whole place could be summed up with that word; outdated. The nurse closed the door after entering, setting the clipboard on the small counter next to the exam table. "If you would please, go and lie down on the table."

The table was cold like the air around you, sending shivers up your spine. Once you lay down the nurse started to put the leather straps around you, holding you to the table. "Um, nurse what are these for?" They let out a small chuckle, somehow amused by the question. "Oh just a precaution, sweetie." The nurse turned away from you to the countertop, putting on elbow-length white rubber gloves. While they were slipping the gloves on, seemingly effortlessly, they spoke "And you can call me Nurse Way, pronouns he/they." You would've laughed at the rhyme if not for the situation you were in.

Nurse Way turned to you, staring at you with the same unnerving grin, and snapped their glove against their arm. "So why did you decide to take a visit to the clinic today?" Taking a deep inhale to try to calm your nerves you started to explain the pain in your stomach, specifically the right side of your belly. "I've also been feeling sort of nauseous and I think that these both started at the same time." Nurse Way nodded along with what you said, writing it down in messy scribbles onto the piece of paper from before. When he finished writing he looked up, a focused and serious look on their face for the first time. "Any headaches? Dehydration?" You shook your head at these questions, "No, none out of the ordinary as far as I can tell." He sat the clipboard with the paper on it back down, taking a few steps towards the table you were still strapped to.

"Okay, I just need to feel around on your stomach, is that okay sweetie?" All you could do is nod and hope for the best, not like you could run away or even move much. They gently lifted up your shirt, just enough to see your stomach and not make you too uncomfortable. 'Why are they trying to not make me uncomfortable? they already restrained me' Your thoughts jumbled in your head about why all of a sudden they were being professional now.

After they finished prodding around with their considerably cold gloves they returned to the Cheshire Cat smile and pulled your shirt down for you. "Good news, sweetie! I know what it is! Now I just need you to wait here a moment while I go get my tools." 'Tools?! What tools?! What do I have?!' Freaking out as he left the room, unable to see your horror-stricken face as his back was turned.

You struggled against the restraints hoping that you could get out in time before he came back. The echoed taping down the hall alerted you that they were already heading back. Another sound was the footsteps, the sound of rusty wheels on a cart. When he walked in you were still struggling to get out of the tight binds holding you to the table. They looked at you with a pitying faces and left the cart by the door, holding something behind his back. "Aw, it's okay sweetie, I'm not going to hurt you. You just need to calm down okay?" He said in a tone that caused a shiver to run up your spine in fear. You were tired from the pain and the struggling so you stopped, much to the displeasure of your anxiety. Breathing still heavy, panting like you were about to pass out, you let out a meek but warning "Don't you dare touch me." They smiled and put a hand on your chest, "It's going to be okay, just stay still.." All of a sudden you felt a sharp pain in your neck 'What the hell?', with the pain came a sense of drowsiness. "Just go to sleep for me, okay?" As much as you tried to fight it, the sleepy feeling took over.

Next thing you knew you woke up in a fully-fledged hospital bed, not some random medical table. You could hear the beeping of a heart monitor and the scribbling of a pencil. When you tried to open your eyes you were met with bright florescent lights above you causing you to groan from the sting in your eyes. "Oh good, you're awake, had a bit of a rest sweetie?" Nurse Way, that was the bubbly, oh-so-happy voice of Nurse Way. You nearly shot straight up in the bed before a gentle hand pushed you back to laying down.

"It's okay, the surgery went okay." With all the meds and painkillers surely pumping through you you could barely process his words. "Surgery?" "Oh yes, surgery to remove your appendix, did I forget to tell you? silly me!" He giggled as if he had not scared the living hell out of you and then performed surgery without your knowledge. "Now you'll just have to stay here for a couple more days to make sure everything will be okay then we can get discharged." He looked at the clipboard to check over all the information then looked back up. "I'll leave you to get more rest, sweetie." With that he left, closing the hospital room door behind him and all you could think was 'What the fuck just happened?'.

[oliversrarebooks]

chemical imbalance

You know that trope where horrifying things are treated as mundane? You know that trope where the whumper is talking around the whumpee like they aren't even a person? This is that story.

TW: alien abduction, alien parasites, body horror, brainwashing, mind control, restraints, tentacles, forced drugging, forced medical examination, complete dehumanization, condescension, defiant whumpee

The receptionist was young and lovely, their skin a fetching shade of blue-purple, and their human host was healthy and smiling, with the dazed, glassy expression that indicated it was well taken care of.

5X2 couldn't help the wave of intense jealousy. Their own human host's gut churned in panic. It was lucid enough to know it was being brought to the doctor, and didn't like the idea at all, stress hormones flooding its fragile body. 5X2 pumped out chemicals to soothe it, beamed calming imagery into its mind, even tried to reassure it through its psychic connection that it was just the doctor, the doctor was going to help it, and hopefully they'd both be feeling better. 

All of their efforts only put the smallest dent in the distress their host was feeling. Well, no wonder -- 5X2 couldn't even remember the last time their poor host had properly slept. They took a deep breath, reassuring their human host that they weren't angry at it, not at all. They loved their host and knew it wasn't its fault it was struggling so hard. The host thrashed mentally, adrenaline rising, coming dangerously close to waking fully as 5X2 wrangled its consciousness back under control.

"I'm 5X2-YLL, and I'm here for my 3100 appointment," they said to the receptionist, hoping they couldn't tell how much trouble they were having with their human.

Sympathetic waves rolled from the receptionist as they looked 5X2 up and down. Oh, they could tell. 5X2 knew their human looked an absolute mess, with a wild expression, deep bags under its eyes, and poor hygiene. The past few days, 5X2 had even taken sick leave from work, embarrassed to go out in public in this state -- that's how they knew they had no choice but to make a doctor's appointment.

"Right this way, 5X2. The doctor is running a bit behind, but if you'll just go into this examination room, they'll be with you shortly. Please have your host change into this medical gown... if you're able."

"Yes, thank you." The door clicked shut behind the receptionist as 5X2 looked around the small examination room. It looked like any other doctor's office, but they couldn't help but notice that the examination chair had formidable looking restraints on it. They supposed it was to be expected for a doctor who specialized in disorders of host control.

The far too lucid human noticed too, and all of its muscles tensed as it signaled to every corner of its body to escape, escape, escape. 5X2 had no choice but to inject yet another low dose of paralytics into its bloodstream, just to make sure it couldn't actually act on that misguided impulse. 

The paralytics kept the human from moving, but also meant that 5X2 had to do much more manual work puppeting its body, and they were so, so tired. With their host's clumsy fingers, they pulled off their shoes, shirt, and pants, and slipped on the flimsy medical gown. The human was expressing distress at having their physical form exposed, of all the ridiculous things. Sometimes 5X2 wished that its constant fears at least made sense. Instead, it was scared of the doctor, of being nude, even of the everyday, ordinary sight of other human hosts with their passengers atop their heads, tentacles nestled neatly in their ears and euphoric expressions on their faces.

I'm trying to help you, 5X2 conveyed through their psychic connection for what seemed like the billionth time this cycle.

All they got back in return was terror, anger, and the intense desire to go home.

We can go home after the appointment, 5X2 reminded it, beaming soothing images of their quarters, the cheery artificial sun lamp, their collection of exotic plants, their vibrant fiber arts, the beautiful view of stars from out of their window. Their host had always been calmed by these things in better days, but it wasn't working now. It didn't make any sense to 5X2 -- if it wanted to go home so badly, why didn't it respond to sensory landscapes of home? 

Surely it wasn't lucid enough to desire its human habitat...? The human habitat was a death world compared to the safety and comfort of the space station.

There was a knock on the door, and the doctor walked into the room. They carried an air of authority about them, perched on top of a petite human who moved with unusual grace. "Hello, 5X2," said the doctor in a kindly voice. "I understand you're here because you're having difficulty in controlling your human host. Is that correct?"

5X2 looked anywhere but at the doctor, pretending to be very interested in a cabinet full of jars of multi-colored fluids. "Ah, yes, that's correct."

"There's no need to be ashamed. There's a lot of unfair stigma attached to host difficulties, but I assure you that it's a far more common problem than you think. There's no judgement here. Please, tell me about what you've been experiencing."

"My human host is almost completely lucid for most of the cycle," 5X2 confessed, trying to suppress their waves of shame and sadness. "I can't keep it fully entranced, I can't soothe it, I can't even put it to sleep. It's constantly scared and stressed and won't stop filling its body with adrenaline."

"I see."

"I have to spend so much of my energy just keeping it from fully waking, and it's affecting my work and my social life. I can't even relax on my days off, because every time I let my guard down, it decides it's a good time to fight me," they said. "I love my host, but I'm at my limit. I can't go on like this. It's sick all of the time from stress hormones, and I'm constantly fatigued. If there's anything you can do, anything at all that would help..."

The doctor's host nodded sagely. "There's a number of common conditions that could cause symptoms like you're describing. If you don't mind, I'd like to take a blood sample from your host so we can run some lab tests while conducting the examination."

"Of course," said 5X2, holding out their host's arm while the doctor prepared a needle for the blood draw. As the needle grazed the host's skin, the human managed to wrest enough control to jerk backwards, irrationally panicked at the sight of the needle. "I'm so sorry. It's been especially determined to fight me on everything today."

"It's nothing to worry about. I see it all the time. Hosts can be smarter than we give them credit for -- it's probably realized that the doctor's appointment is for putting it back under."

"But why does it fight that? That doesn't make any sense -- doesn't it want to be calm and happy? Why would it want to be stressed and miserable?"

"Oh, it's not that it wants to be stressed and miserable. It's just the natural state of hosts that aren't fully entranced. It's not its fault that it's acting this way -- it just doesn't know any better," said the doctor. "To make the examination easier, it might be best if we strapped your host into the chair, if you don't mind the restricted mobility."

"Not at all. It'd be a relief to not have to suppress their impulses," said 5X2. Their human predictably howled with displeasure, scraping and clawing for any bit of control over its limbs as 5X2 fought its body into the chair and tried to hold it still as the doctor restrained it. It was even managing to resist the paralytics, utterly desperate to escape.

If this doctor couldn't help them, 5X2 was going to lose their mind.

With the host's body securely restrained, the doctor was finally able to take a blood sample. The human's consciousness was thrashing like a wounded dust-moth, but with their body secured, 5X2 could devote their whole efforts to dampening their mental distress.

"If you'll excuse me a moment, I'll bring this to the lab. We should get results in around ten deciclicks."

5X2 tried to relax in the chair as the doctor left the room, but of course their exhausting host was having none of it.

Why are you fighting so hard? they asked.

The answer was always the same.

I want to go home. I don't want to be a host. I don't want to be hypnotized again. Please let me go.

Incoherent nonsense. The poor, confused thing.

"All right, that's taken care of," said the doctor, entering the room and perching on a nearby stool. "Now, may I ask you some questions? How long have you been noticing these symptoms?"

"About a quarter star turn."

"I see. And have you previously sought help for them?"

"...No. I really should have, before it got to this point, but I was ashamed. I thought it was temporary, and that I could fix my host myself."

"At least you're here now. You're doing the right thing," said the doctor encouragingly. "How often does the human sleep?"

"Only once every few cycles, and for only a few clicks at a time. I can't keep it to anything resembling a schedule, either, and it doesn't seem to respond to sedation at all. The only mercy is that it often sleeps while I'm at work."

"And how do you normally soothe it?"

"I think I've tried just about everything. Before this all started, it was so easy -- a quick wash of sedative and neurotoxin, some soothing hallucinations, a little gentle urging of slumber, and it was out in a milliclick. It would normally sleep for half the cycle. But now, nothing works. Not toxins, not hallucinations, not psychic compulsions. It doesn't matter what I do, I simply cannot put it to sleep.  The only reason it sleeps at all is because its own consciousness turns itself off when it becomes too exhausted."

"You say it was easily controlled before?"

"Very much so. It took very well to deep trance, especially if I was listening to music. It enjoyed art and scenery and was calm as can be. I never imagined it was capable of so much anxiety."

"How close is its consciousness to the surface?"

"...Very. It's listening to everything we're saying. It might even be able to understand us. Well, as much as any host is capable of understanding."

"Has it ever become fully awake?"

5X2 hesitated.

"Please, don't be ashamed. I'm here to help you, but I need you to answer my questions honestly. Has it ever become fully awake?"

"...A handful of times," 5X2 admitted. "It didn't get very far before I was able to paralyze it and return it to my control, but... it was so terrifying, to feel my host wake, to take full control from me and do what it wished with its body."

"That's a very traumatic experience," said the doctor sympathetically. "Once we have the main issue sorted out, I recommend a visit to memory alteration to remove the unnecessary fear generation."

"Won't they judge me for losing control of my human?"

The doctor seemed lightly amused. "5X2, it's the memory alteration department. Don't you think they've seen far worse than that?"

"You're right, just a silly insecurity on my part," said 5X2, mirroring the doctor's amusement.

"Let me perform some quick examinations on your host's body while we have you here," said the doctor. "Your host is partially lucid and fearful right now, correct?"

"Extremely so," said 5X2, feeling the horrible squirm in their host's gut at the mention of the doctor examining it.

The doctor waved a small light in front of the human's eyes. "Pupils are very dilated. It's focusing clearly on my light, indicating a high degree of responsiveness. Dark circles indicate a dangerous lack of sleep, and the skin seems unusually flaky and dry. This all matches the symptoms you've described."

They moved around to 5X2's side, using the light to peer into its host's ear. "Everything looks healthy and normal here," they said, giving a slight tug to 5X2's left connector tentacle. "Connection seems firm. I assume it's enmeshed with the correct portions of the brain? You have at least six tendrils on each side of the frontal lobe, three in the parietal, and two in the occipital?"

"Of course, doctor."

"I know it sounds obvious, but I have to ask. Believe it or not, I've had more than one patient that neglected to enmesh the frontal lobe entirely. You can imagine what kind of a state their poor host was in."

"I'm amazed that anyone in this age is so ignorant. That sounds like torture for them."

"You're not wrong," said the doctor, clicking off their light. "From the outside, there doesn't seem to be any issues, but if we can't resolve the problem, we may need to do some scans to check that all of your tendrils are properly connected. It's uncommon, but there are certain disorders that prevent proper cohesion of tendril to host brain."

"I'll subject myself to any tests if it will help."

"I know how intensely uncomfortable it must be to have your host so wakeful, for both you and it," said the doctor. "I'm certain we can help you. It's extremely rare for this sort of problem to be beyond the reach of modern medicine."

A knock at the door, and the receptionist entered the room. "I have the results from the lab for you," they said, slipping out again quickly.

The doctor's host took the readout and looked it over, as 5X2 waited in anticipation and 5X2's host trembled in terror. Finally, there was a wave of satisfaction from the doctor. "I have good news for you, 5X2. The lab results may have given us an important clue to your problem."

"Truly? What is it?"

"You see here..." The doctor placed the readout in front of 5X2. It was full of miniature graphs and jargon that they didn't have a hope of understanding. "Most of the toxin levels in the human's blood were highly elevated -- no doubt due to your efforts to keep it under control -- but one in particular was abnormally low, almost undetectable."

"And that is?"

"In basic terms, it's a powerful hypnotic, the primary toxin used to keep the human mind asleep and docile. Without this important chemical, your host's mind is far more alert than it should ever be. That makes it less receptive to all of your efforts to soothe it, allows stress and fear hormones to build up in its delicate brain, and causes it to resist being put to sleep."

"And that's what's missing?" said 5X2, feeling waves of relief at having an answer.

"It would seem so. The absence of this hypnotic would make it next to impossible to keep a healthy human under trance. It's no wonder your efforts to sedate and entrance your host were fruitless. I'm honestly impressed you were able to walk into my office."

"Is there a cure?"

"There are a few different conditions that can cause this. To start with, I'm going to give you a prescription for a course of medication that should help promote the natural release of this chemical from your toxin glands. It has a few minor potential side effects, which the informational packet will describe."

"No side effects can possibly be worse than what I'm going through now. How long will that take to have an effect?"

"It should be at full strength in eight to ten cycles. We can see how you're responding, then, and I can advise you on a further course of treatment."

5X2 steadied themself. Eight to ten cycles. They could endure eight to ten more cycles.

"But in the meantime, we can simply inject your host with a big, healthy dose of the chemical cocktail it's been missing."

5X2's elation was almost drowned out by its host's panic and despair. "You can do that? You can do that right now?"

"Certainly," said the doctor, pulling a jar of translucent blue liquid from a shelf. "Let me prepare the injection. It's all natural and safe for both of you. I'm sure you're both eager to get some reprieve from fighting each other."

"And I'll be able to put my host to sleep? To keep it under trance?"

"With this extra strength, time release formula, it should be well out of it for the next few cycles, exceedingly simple to control. You can both finally get the rest you need."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, you don't know how much of a relief that is."

No! No, no, no! the human was screaming through their connection. Don't let them inject me with that! Let me go! I want to go home! I need to wake up -- I need to --

"I need to wake up!" 

5X2 felt their consciousness suddenly cut off from their host's body as the human woke. It pulled at the restraints, trying to get its hand free.

"Please let me go! Don't do this!" the human yelled, as the doctor looked on with curiosity.

"Oh, you're awake? Now, now, we're only trying to help you," said the doctor. "Aren't you tired of fighting? Aren't you scared and hurting?"

"I'm scared and hurting because of what you're doing to me! This isn't right! Humans aren't meant to live like this -- you've taken my entire life from me!" Tears streamed down its face. "You're a doctor -- if you have any compassion at all, please listen to me! We don't want to be hypnotized and turned into puppets. We don't want to spend our whole lives sleeping and hallucinating and floating along in a mindless trance. We want to be free!"

The doctor patted its head. "I know this must all seem so scary to you, but it's only because of a chemical imbalance. That's why your passenger brought you here to the doctor, to help you. Your passenger loves you very much and only wants the best for you. Do you understand?"

"No, I don't want this. This is wrong -- please listen!"

"You're going to feel so much better in just a few minutes. I promise. Just trust me," said the doctor, their host easily pinning down 5X2's host's restrained arm and administering the injection. 

"No, please!" 5X2's host struggled uselessly against the tight restraints, its panic reaching a fever pitch, as 5X2 sat in their own mind and watched. "Please! Please listen! Let me go! Let me... go..."

The human host's body relaxed, sagging against the restraints as its control over itself suddenly diminished. 5X2 could feel a lovely sense of peace wash over their host, a sensation they hadn't felt in a quarter star turn. 

5X2, eager to take back its host, sent deep, hypnotic compulsions to fog its host's mind, to sink it into a pleasant daze, to pull it back under their control, and they were delighted when the host responded swiftly and easily. All of that fight, that fear, that anger began to evaporate like mist as 5X2 gently soothed its host into a trance.

You want to be a good host, 5X2 coaxed. You want to stop resisting. You want to weaken your feeble mental defenses and let me in.

I want to... Their host's thoughts were faltering and slow, easy to manipulate, just as they should be. I want to be a good host... want to let you in... want to drop my defenses... stop resisting...

Yes, that's right. Lower those defenses. You're safe, completely safe. You can relax now.

There was only a slight hesitation before the response. Safe... relax...

 5X2 felt the human's resistance melt away, leaving its mind like soft clay in their grasp.

Finally.

5X2 rewarded their host's compliance with a pleasant vision of the ship's recreation district, filled with laughter and games and live music, one that their host used to be fond of before it became impossibly defiant. Their host latched onto the familiar, mollifying hallucination right away, like a young one with its comfort-toy.

Fun... pretty...

Yes, it is fun and pretty, said 5X2. You deserve it, because you're being very good right now. Aren't you glad I took you to the doctor?

Feels... hazy...

And isn't that good?

Mmhmm... good... so good... thank you...

"How is it feeling now?" asked the doctor. "Any better?"

"Oh, yes, that was absolutely brilliant," said 5X2. "It's completely docile and enjoying its favorite hallucination right now. I can't thank you enough."

"Excellent. I'm just glad that worked. I'll make an appointment for you ten cycles from now, and give you the prescriptions for the medication I recommend, along with a course of injectables to keep your host nice and compliant. It shouldn't give you any more trouble."

"That sounds perfect."

"I recommend putting your host to sleep for the next cycle. It must be so fatigued after all of that pointless struggle, and a prolonged period of rest will help it to reacclimate to your control."

"I don't think I need to worry about the last part," said 5X2 gleefully. "It seems so relieved to be back under. But I agree that it needs sleep. Maybe I can get some sleep too."

5X2's host was already flooded with the injected sedative, so they sent a simple but strong compulsion to lull it asleep. Its exhausted mind responded right away, filling it with a deep, irresistible drowsiness, its remaining thoughts dulling and fading as it drifted away peacefully. The cheerful hallucination of the recreational zone would give it pleasant dreams. 5X2 couldn't remember the last time their host had been so quiet, not a hint of stress or nightmares.

It was so charming to feel their delightful host curling up comfortably in its own mind and going to sleep. It reminded 5X2 of how much they loved their host, before everything had gone wrong.

"It worked," said 5X2 in awe.

"Asleep already? I thought so. It was so worn out."

"Thank you again, doctor, for all of your help. My host wanted to thank you, too, before it fell asleep. I can tell that it already feels so much happier."

"It's my pleasure." The doctor released 5X2's host from the chair. 

5X2 stood up, shedding the medical gown and putting the host's clothes back on its body. Control was simple and seamless now, the host's body moving exactly in accordance with 5X2's wishes. They could hardly believe what a difference a little chemical persuasion made. With their newfound freedom, a part of them wanted to go out and indulge in all of the fine pleasures they had missed out on for so long -- but really, they knew it would be far more prudent to go home and sleep.

They'd do that after they picked up those prescriptions, of course. They weren't going to let a simple chemical imbalance ruin their life any more.

Masterlist

It's always the weirdest things you need to get out of your system, right? I don't know where this came from, but I'm tempted to write more about this alien parasite society. Like how they acquire humans, and how other pairs are doing...

What would you do if you had a passenger of your own?

[dead-dove-yandere]

seeing that Laura drabble post made me imagine stuff, like- darling wakes up tied up only to find laura getting all flustered and blushy as soon as they do, she probably will just ramble about how she loves them and how they were meant to be together but it was almost inaudible for darling to hear what she's saying.

and to be honest, that one dude does have a lot of friends in his workplace, they're all really close too, but he's a lot closer to this brunette girl who's his childhood best friend xd (welp, looks like their time hanging out together will be gone, and it'll just go to him hanging out with chase instead if he has free-time)

— 👾

Somehow I have a feeling that Chase would ensure that one dude doesn’t spend much time with his childhood friend much more - if at all 😬 Chase would definitely get a little jealous that she gets his attention, although he’d never willingly admit he was jealous.

As for Laura, that’s exactly what she’d do - she’d have the guts to kidnap her darling with expertise but then still somehow be too shy to talk directly to them lol.

TW: Stalking, obsession, kidnapping, drugging, restraint, unhealthy parasocial relationship

You wake up slowly, groggily. Every single one of your senses returns one by one as you struggle out of your stupor. First, it’s your hearing - you hear some shuffling, as if someone is moving stuff around, accompanied by a quiet whimper or squeal of excitement. Then your feeling and smell return, and you become aware you’re on a cold, hard laminate floor, but it seems that blankets and cushions have been placed around you in an attempt to make you more comfortable. Your wrists ache and chafe against some kind of restraint that’s slightly too tight around them. A slightly musty scent hangs in the air, but it’s overpowered by some sort of cheap, chemically air freshener that gave you a headache - or perhaps it was the drugs you were recovering from that caused that? You weren’t sure. Finally, you managed to peel your eyes open, blinking away stale tears that blurred your vision. You hear another excited giggle and you try to hold your head up.

As your vision comes into focus, the room becomes clearer. It seems as though you’re in the bedroom of some small apartment. There’s barely enough room, and what room is there is cluttered by furniture and merch. Plastered on every wall you see posters of your idol band, your bandmates and yourself smiling back at you in glossy photos. There are shelves filled with your albums, and photocards dotted everywhere, stuck to any surface where there was room. You can faintly hear some music playing, and you glance over to see a PC on a desk, youtube open on the music video for a song you wrote. It seems like insult to injury - you weren’t particularly proud of that song and knew you could have written it better, yet here it was, another piece of this strange shrine to you, and in the middle of it all, sat on the floor in front of you, was Laura.

She was grinning, her face flushed bright red and she used the sleeve of her jumper to hide her face. She couldn’t take her eyes off of you. As she notices your gaze finally falling upon her, she mumbles something, but you can’t hear it.

“What?” You croak, your throat sore and dry.

“I s-said I… I can’t believe that you are- that you really are…” She stuttered on for a while, trying to get the sentence out but still making little sense, and while perhaps you could have figured it out, your mind was still too sluggish. She continues on regardless of your confused expression.

“I really, really liked - no, loved - no I do love you. Love. I love you. Like, a l-lot. I did, I always did.” You stare at her, your confusion overpowering the instinct for fear. You try to raise your hands, feeling pins and needles from the restraints.

“Oh, erm, yes, I know, it’s uh… they’re uh…” She went back to mumbling incoherently.

“What?” You repeat. The grogginess is quickly turning to nausea.

“I…” Laura takes a shaky breath, fidgeting and clearly getting agitated by her own inability to get over her anxiety, although how someone that anxious could go through with something as risky as kidnap, you weren’t sure.

“We are meant to be together!” She blurts out suddenly, and you only look at her with more bewilderment, feeling uneasy about her clear obsession as well as unsure about what that statement had to do with anything she was trying to say before. You flex your hands, focusing on getting feeling back into them. Laura’s face drops in disappointment when she didn’t get the reaction she wanted from you. Her face grows redder as her brow furrows in frustration and she babbles some more, all of it sounding like gibberish or a string of words fragments. Eventually she gives up mid sentence and roars in frustration, picking up a pillow and throwing it at the wall with a heavy thud. Then, she stands up and runs to the door where she pauses for a second.

“Ineedaminutetocalmdown,” she mutters, before slamming the door, leaving you trapped alone inside her bedroom.

Divider’s Credit: See Pinned Post

[perkqularkreashions]

Sinful Divination

Part One: Chasing Pavements

AN: I am sooo sorry for the long wait time; I hope you guys like it! 

TW/CW: Mentions: Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Child Abuse, Mentions of Molestation, Child Pregnancy, Mentions of Miscarriage, Mentions of Child Murder. PLEASE CHECK YOUR TRIGGERS!!

Happy Readings!

COLD. It was uncomfortably cold, the kind that pained you when you finally relaxed your body to the surface; it was the only sensation YN felt as her body pressed against a rusted metal pipe. She was bonded by duct tape and rope, her wrists shifting and moving as she tried to create space to escape. Her wrists were raw and burned at the slightest moment; her senses were distorted, and she didn’t know if it had been three days or 20 minutes. The hum of light drilled into the silence, her eyes blurred from the tears and chemicals that knocked her out. In a panic, she aggressively yanked at the restraints. She tried to remain emotionless, but everything weighed on her; her eyes began to water as her lips quivered against the cloth in her mouth. Her chest heaving, as she slightly adjusted herself. The reality was harshly setting in. He spoke, yet YN didn’t hear him, his voice drowning in nothingness. Startled by the abrupt sound, her eyes snapping to his. His eyes were wide and full of excitement, dried blood painted on his face and clothes. Despite his seemingly clean look, his skin smelled of a strong bar soap, and his hair was slightly wet and had slight suds. YN took note of his hair, the color of his eyes, the curve of his chin, the deepness of his Cupid’s bow, his build, and the straightness of his teeth—the flaxen color of his skin riddle with freckles and healed lacerations. A necklace with a pendant that was tucked in his shirt; it was silver in color and looked to be a saint… He was catholic.

She sucked in a deep breath; maybe, she could appeal to his better nature as a Catholic. She shook the idea out of her head as she closed her eyes, waiting for him to strike.

“YN…YN….YN LN. It was just my luck to see you, walking down the street. Arms tucked underneath each other. Your wet clothes clinging to you, the way your hair falls against your face. The way you held me to pick up my papers when they fell. Beautiful,” he whispers, his fingers sliding against her face and moving from her brow to her lips. She didn’t snatch herself away; that was what Maria Cassidy did; he bludgeoned her to death with a hammer. He was quick to anger; YN knew she had to be still and gentle with him until the BAU could find her… until they could save her. She flinched slightly as he plopped beside her, eye to eye. His nose brushes against her; he moans softly, squeezing her shoulders tightly. “I’m sorry, I’m getting too ahead of myself. I never thought you’d notice me..U-Until you did!”

His hand moved to her lips, dry from the cloth and stained with tears. He grabbed at the back of her neck; she watched him fearfully. “I trust you, so I am going to take this off. Don’t make me regret this,” he mumbled against her lips. She nodded gently. With a swift tug, she could close her mouth and swallow. Her throat burned with the sensation of the salvia running down her throat. He smiled widely, his hands clasped around her face as he kissed harshly against her lips. His tongue darting against mouth, with disdain, she kissed back. Her eyes, were open as she watched him. He pulled away; she quickly closed them. Opening slowly, pressing a feigned smile against her lips. 

Everyone watched the screen in disgust; the only sound was clicking the keys against Garcia’s fingers. Occasionally, she would peak at the net but couldn’t stomach it. “She has to be related to all this,” Emily whispered in disbelief. “She has to be.” She spoke louder, turning her attention to the group. “He knows her, maybe from grade school or a youth group. She participated in band, Youth Art, maybe even the church?”

“The only record I’m seeing is high school and college; there was no record that she even went to a public or even private elementary or middle school,” Garcia mumbled, as she continued typing, her eyes snapping from the computer screen to the monitor. Garcia gasped as a hand collided with her face, her body jerking as she let out a soft yelp. Her head dangling for a moment as she yanked herself back. Another blow to her face, as he spits at her. She needed to keep calm and restrain herself from the noises that filtered out of her lips. He punched her again; she gasped as her head dropped against her. The unsub’s hand tangled itself in her hair as he raised her head, revealing her face to the camera. “Now, let’s play a little game. If you get these answers wrong, I'll cut you.  Simple and Fun!”

“This is a completely different M.O. than his other victims. He tortures them on camera and doesn’t utter a word. He feels comfortable. As he wants her to know it’s him. Garcia, we need you to dig deeper into how he communicates with them and how he looks at her. He has to know her.” Spencer spoke, his eyes analyzing how the unsub moved; he was careful in his movements as he was afraid to hurt her. 

“Maria, she was pretty. She was always just that, pretty. Do you remember her crime against the God?” the unsub whispers.

“N-no, I-” his knife glided against her face, blood spewing out; she hissed momentarily, biting her lip as she shut her eyes. JJ and Garcia cringed, watching the knife drag from the brow to the apples of her cheek. 

JJ explains in a hurried voice, pushing another laptop on the table, “The first victim didn’t go to the same school as her; they didn’t even grow up in the same neighborhood. They went to rival schools.” 

“What about, Helena?” Everyone’s attention turned to the monitor. 

“She had an abortion and later tried to commit suicide,” YN answered quickly; she remembered that day in school. The halls were eerily quiet that day. She woke up, her bare feet slapping against the ground as she moved to the shared bathroom. She searched for her roommate; they always woke around the same time. A loud caw snapped YN back into her thoughts as she opened the bathroom. Seeing her body laid in the bathtub, filled with a mixture of water and her blood. She stumbled back, letting out a scream. She screamed for Sister Rose, Sister Anika, and Jesus. They rushed into the room, eyes moving to the tub. “Call Father!” Sister Rose would scream as she dragged Helena out of the tub, grabbing the display and wrapping it around her arms. She survived and was placed right back in the facility after her repentance. 

“What about Margot?” he hummed, the knife danced along her skin. 

She shivered, “She succumbed to her flesh,” he laughed with glee. 

“And what about you? Mm?” Yn froze; watching him closely, she shook her head. Her eyes flickered back to the camera. His eyes flickered down, tracing over a scar resting at her stomach's base. YN screamed as she plunged the knife slightly into the scar, yanking harshly to the left. Snatching the knife out, he watches her squirm against the restraints. “You are a whore! You don’t remember, that day. I do; I remember, you adjusting your blouse as he stumbled out of his office. You smelled of sin, but you smiled at me, you smiled at me, you smiled at me. You smiled at me.” He plunged the knife into her leg, and she gasped, the air getting stuck in her throat as he yanked it out. Chocking on pain and air, she sucked in cool air around her. 

He cut at the restraints behind her, pushing her on her back. He brought himself to his knees, his face scanning her body before moving back to her eyes. He caressed her gently before moving his hand to the hem of her shirt. YN froze, her eyes wide in distress as she soon began to recognize him, his features tugging together to create a vivid picture in her mind. Her heart stabbed against her chest, her head shaking softly as she mumbled softly, “Please don’t.” She couldn’t recall his name. He was always just around, thick circular framed glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose. His hand played with each as he spoke, sat, walked, and did anything. He was often frightened and hid behind the oak desk, that Headmaster Fletcher would rape her on. His eyes would peek over to hers, full of tears and soft pleads. After Headmaster Fletcher was done, he’d kiss the top of her head before leaving YN alone with him. 

His knife met the Cesarean scar; she couldn’t feel it for a moment. Feel him dragging his across the dewiness of her skin, the pain not yet reaching her brain, she sat there in a state of acceptance and solitude. Just as she did when she was a kid. The smell of burning sage and vanilla candles filled her senses, and she was back sitting on his leather couch, hands placed on her lap as she anxiously waited for him to speak. She finally apologized, her eyes brimming with tears as she met the eyes of her father and uncle. “I have sinned” was all she was able to muster out.

 YN was yanked out of thoughts, from a searing pain in her abdomen; she screamed out and jerked upwards, causing him to lose his balance. Violently, she shook, her legs flailing about, wanting to put as much distance from the unsub and herself, finally freeing your right hand from imprisonment.

“I'm pregnant,” YN cries out, “Please, I’m pregnant,” she whispers again. Their eyes met before the unsub’s moved back to her stomach. He thought she was lying; she wouldn’t keep this information from him; she knew she was lying. His grip tightens on the knife as he watches her in disbelief. 

“You’re a liar,” He screams erratically; he shakes his head for a moment. YN yanked at one arm, slipping it from the already loosened restraint; she didn’t have time to subdue him. She saw his hand raise steadily, and without thinking, she blocked her stomach. The knife collided with her palm. YN was stuck, her mind warping to insignificant details that surrounded her. She could suddenly see everything happening outside: the chirp of the bugs, the soft drops of the rain against the roof, and the hum of the air conditioning turning on and off. The wind howled in the night sky. The way the house shook when trucks drove past.  She could feel his breath against her face and the smell of Bourbon and cheese. He yanked the knife back, and finally, her eyes flickered to his. A look of terror was written on his face. Slowly, the unsub’s eyes shifted to her stomach, now covered with blood.

Garcia screamed, her hands slapping against her mouth as she watched the scene before her. Tears burned her eyes as her mascara streaked across her face. “W-who,” the unsub spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. Aaron watched the shift in his demeanor; he cared. His face scrunched in dismay at the news, and his body shifted away from him as if he were a scorned lover. 

“He’s family,” Aaron started, his eyes shifting to everyone, landing on Spencer’s momentarily. “I remember, her saying that she went to this-” 

“Catholic Boarding School funded by her church when she was younger,” Spencer finished; everyone was brought back to life, over-talking one another to connect her life to the unsub. 

“I-I don’t know,” YN admitted, “I’m four months along with twins.” Both Spencer and Aaron were standing, gawking at the screen. Emily watched the both of them, as they were trying to register what was going on.  

The unsub stood up quickly, “I will get you a towel for the blood.” With that, he was gone. His footsteps retreated upstairs as the door slowly creaked shut. 

“It’s still raining; we are still in Virginia. The forest surrounds him, maybe a one-lane highway. You could feel the house shaking when trucks go past. He lives alone; he went to an all-boys charter school; when I was 13, I got pregnant, and my parents sent me to an all-girls catholic school. He was punished heavily during his stay. Our father abused the girls, but I never suspected the boys. I see scars and healed bruising shaped like a paddle and whips. He wears a necklace Nicodemus—a saint in the bible.  It was our saint, too.” Garcia vigorously typed as she searched through her databases, typing in one screen before transferring to another. “Spence… Aaron – I am so sorry,” she whispers out. 

The unsub came back downstairs, a towel in his hand with some alcohol and gaze. “You don’t-” he shushes her, grabbing her hand. YN hissed in pain, squirming as he doused her hand in alcohol. 

“It was like when we were kids, remember.” 

. Finally, she was looking at him. She saw him. His hand pressed on the wound as he robotically cleaned it up, just like when they were kids. She remembered his darkened face as she lay restless on the ground, blood pooling on her legs and the mahogany wooden floors. He hesitantly rubbed her thighs and would mumble apologies, but nothing would stop her from sobbing in her elbow.

“Thomas Fletcher, 26, went to Saint Nicodemus school for troubled youth. They had a school for girls and boys. But, it doesn’t seem like this school was doing good for the “troubled” youth. The head minister was charged with 29 counts of child molestation and rape cases. None of the girls testified, and the charges were dropped against him without their testimonies. That’s not all; half of the girls attending this school were pregnant, not by him but by many of the pastors and advisors who came to speak with them about bettering their lives. YN LN had her child on December 25, a healthy baby boy. She named him, Ezekial LN, but he now goes by Zeke LN and is legally adopted by her MaryAnn and Paul Fletcher, the former headmistress and minister of Saint Nicodemus. On the birth certificate, the parents are listed as YN LN and Paul Fletcher, the head minister. For three years, YN was legally married to him.” Garcia moved her findings to the screen. 

Rossi’s face contoured in dismay as he watched the BAU. “How could her parents let their child go through with something so traumatizing?” 

“Because it was her uncle,” Garcia whispered. Her fingers moved swiftly, as she pointed to the screen. News articles block the camera, showing black-and-white photos of YN’s father and the pastor. “Her father was the church pastor and appointed his brother to the head minister of his charter school.” A picture of YN pixeled on the screen, her hair tied behind her, her face emotionless as she held a minor plague in her hand that covered her stomach. “Her uncle raped her, and her father covered it up.”

“We need to know the properties listed in her father’s name,” Aaron demanded. Aaron didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared; he feared losing YN, just like how he lost Hayley. He knew there was a chance that the children weren’t his, and at the moment, he didn’t care. He wanted back in their home, lying in their bed. 

“There’s a house, just bordering the Appalachian mountains. The address is, 5687 Wieme Road, Wise, Virginia, only 45 minutes away from her,” she pronounces. The team moved; no words were spoken as they gathered into their respective cars, ready to save YN. 

Spencer’s heart was racing against his chest, his gum aimed in front of him as he watched his surroundings, eyes flickering from left to right, trying to capture every minute detail. The basement door was ajar; Aaron moved first, wasting no time to rush down the stairs, gun aiming at Thomas’s head. He hadn’t yet noticed, the BAU filling the room, carefully, one foot over the either they closed in. 

“Thomas Fletcher,” Rossi called out, his finger dancing along the trigger as he watched the man freeze. “It’s over. Drop the weapon.” Thomas held his hands up slowly, his eyes flickering to YN, pleading for her to help. All she could do with laugh, tears blinding her as she sat up slowly, letting her body fall limp against the metal beam. Her sobs echoed through the room, her hand pressed against her stomach as she exhaled. 

She gasped softly, feeling the blanket tossed over her shoulder. Aaron knelt, cuffing her face as he watched her. “You okay?” he whispers, and she nods frantically. Wrapping her arms around him, she let out a quiet sob. 

She repeats through her sobs, “I’m okay.” Aaron’s arm wrapped around her lower back, bringing her closer. “Are you mad at me?” she could barely find her voice. 

“No…no, please, I could never be mad at you. I love you.” He pulls away, cuffing her face, taking in all her features. The bruises that started to form, the laceration marks, her busted lip. He grew angry; he should’ve killed him and killed him for hurting her, killed for almost killing his children. Aaron moved, as the paramedics came, kneeling beside her. The rest of the team joined, scared she would be gone again if they left her sight. 

They moved her to the back of the ambulance, and the last to see her was Spencer; she was searching for him. He climbed in the back, asking for a moment alone, in which he happily obliged. He sat down. “I love you, YN – I know you love me too. No matter what happens, I will always be here for you. Even if they aren’t mine,” he whispers. Standing up, Spencer pressed a kiss to her forehead. He held it there as he tried holding in his emotions. 

“Wait, Spence, please don’t go,” YN whispers. Spencer smiled, sitting back as he took her hand, while the other gently rested against her stomach.

[pricklenettle]

Beats Per Minute

AO3

Word Count:  9,590

tw: dissection, gore, body horror

Prompt from @ghostlyhabato

Clockwork is not as he seems. Despite saving Danny, he has an ulterior motive for getting the boy to trust him, and a plan that neither Danny nor the rest of the Ghost Zone would be keen on. Somehow, Danny finds out about it. Is he able to stop Clockwork, or is he no match for the Master of Time?

~~~~~~~~

Maddie pulled on the disinfected gloves. Made of thick black rubber, they almost went up to her shoulders. All the better to keep ectoplasm staining to a minimum. She wrapped a long plastic apron around her front. It was bulky and the clear plastic made crackling sounds whenever she moved but it would make for easy cleanup. She chuckled, it wasn’t too different from wearing oven mitts and the pink frilled cooking apron Jack had made her for when she baked cookies.

Jack had already finished his preparations. The pump was primed and humming, the containment tank’s light was on, revealing floating sickly green bubbles behind the glass. There were ghosts floating, suspended in the operational tanks beside it, but this one they’d kept empty. The operation table was unfolded in the middle of the floor, and all the other gadgets he’d invented for dealing with mostly intangible beings were all ready and waiting. He’d moved on to setting out her tools, organizing them side by side on the trays with nervous energy.

She eyed the orderly rows, gangrenous light from the portal bouncing off the stainless steel blades. She smiled reassuringly. “We’ve done plenty of animals, this one will be a breeze.”

Jack bobbed his head back and forth sucking on his teeth in concentration. “I’m not worried, the Fenton Ghost Restraints have held a ghost bear! It’s just strange, is all, how we finally got him. And I don’t like being in such a rush.”

“Well I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and I’m certainly not going to let the GIW get their paws on him. They’re probably running through their paperwork as we speak.” Maddie tied her apron around her waist and pulled her hood down, settling the goggles over her eyes. “Alright, ready to get him out of the trunk?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵👻

Jack slammed the trunk of the GAV open. The vehicle was off but it wasn’t dark inside, a soft pearly light was weakly emitted from the entity lying on the floor. It wasn’t strong enough to illuminate anything, but it sent an involuntary chill down Maddie’s spine even with all her experience.

Jack hovered over her, a big orange shadow, anxious to follow her directions. “When he’s not flying around causing havoc with the other ghosts it’s easy to forget this guy was a kid when he kicked the bucket.”

Maddie appreciated his comment, it made her realize her thoughts had been slipping dangerously in the same direction. If her mind wasn’t sure, and her scalpel wasn’t exact it would only cause undue damage and wasted time. She analyzed the white scrunched up face, leaking ectoplasm out of a bruised nose and cut forehead, and getting it all over the GAV rug. The sluggish green liquid would stain horribly. Its white hair shivered unnaturally in the still air, and she could feel the dip in temperature when she stuck her hand out toward it.

“Phantom might have been a kid once, or its appearance could be an illusion to make Amity Park residents more likely to sympathize with it, or it could be a branch of the ghost zone itself, reaching out to push into our world like a mindless drone scout. Its ecto-signature is so similar to readings taken directly from the portal, how can he exist so effortlessly in the human realm? Whatever it is, we’ll find out more once he’s on the operation table.”

Jack immediately brightened at the thought of testing their many, many theories. This would open the door for them into a realm famously unknowable since the first cells gathered together in the chemical miracle of life. Dr. Frankenstein had nothing on them. Jack scooped Phantom up. The ghost seemed tiny in his arms. The anti-ecto strips in his orange suit would counteract any intangibility that might let a weakened ghost slip away. He bent so Maddie could stick it with her needle. The ghost's head lolled on his neck. She could see the tendons and bones moving beneath his skin, it was amazingly easy to find the carotid artery. She pressed the tip of her needle to his skin to unload her syringe.  

That was strange too. According to their theories, ghosts were ectoplasmic reflections of things that left an intense emotional stain when they passed on from this side. On the inside many ghosts weren't much different from the blob ghosts that floated through ectoplasm dense air like zooplankton. How many ghosts out there had such realistic articulation? Maddie wanted to bounce on her toes with excitement just thinking about it.

They chatted amiably on the walk back through the house down into the basement. The house was dark, she didn't expect Jazz or Danny would be back for a while. Maddie and Jack tossed ideas and strategies back and forth. Delight roasted warmly in her stomach, she always thought best and most clearly with Jack beside her, and his thoughts added such a unique twist to any of her endeavors. Capturing the number one enemy, dissecting him together in their own lab, all the knowledge they would gain, and staying ahead of the government; tonight was shaping up to be quite the pleasant evening.  

~~~~~┏(-Д-┏)～

Phantom woke up sometime as they were going down the stairs. He made a muffled noise and weakly kicked. Jack squeezed him tighter. "None of that, Ghost scum."

Maddie hurried her steps. "Get him on the table, we have a while yet before he's dangerous again, but I don't want him waking up any more than he has."

Jack laid him on the table almost gently. Phantom tried to sit up, but Jack's hands were firm and heavy. Phantom's mouth worked. It looked like he was trying to use a swollen tongue with a deathly dry mouth. His inhuman green eyes were wide as saucers, they followed Maddie around the lab as she got her notes ready and wheeled the table with her instruments closer.

Jack strapped the restraints around his wrists and ankles. Phantom still hadn't made as much protest as she thought he would against the two ghost hunters that had been chasing him since his first appearance. Perhaps he was more out of it than she'd calculated. Jack was making whatever fiddly adjustments he needed on the machines. He pulled out one of these collapsible gadgets from underneath the table below Phantom's head. The middle piece looked like an oxygen mask, but on either side it was attached to a series of clear plastic tanks and tubes. He lowered the mask over Phantom's mouth and nose. Though ghosts had no need to breathe, the facial orifices were still often the most effective way to introduce a foreign substance. For an instant, Maddie imagined she saw the whisper of condensation pearling inside the dome of plastic over the ghost's mouth. She tensed, but Jack flipped the machine's switch and gas swirled through the tubes to cloud the oxygen mask. The left side was green with gaseous ectoplasm harvested directly from the ghost zone and concentrated into its purest form. It would keep pumping strength into the ghost as Maddie dug around in its insides. It should keep it stabilized even while its body was put through stress. The right side was pale and smoky, a sedative more effective than a hard knock to the head or the quick shots Maddie had been giving him. Even as she watched the green glowing disks of his eyes lowered into acidic slits. Phantom looked even more alien with the machine obscuring the bottom half of his face.

She exchanged a glowing look with Jack. This was the moment they'd been waiting for. She picked up the chalk. She pressed one palm against Phantom's chest. Even through the gloves, she could tell the suit he wore was thick and slippery, black as an oil slick. The body below her hand was surprisingly solid. She paused there, as though sensing there was something she'd missed.

Her heart skipped a beat when she felt it rise under her hand. A hitching inhale, a deep exhale. She sought Phantom's eyes. They were still lowered. Two glowing dreamy crescents. His irises wandered aimlessly underneath his lids. She shook her head. A trick, to put her off her guard. She noted it anyway, having Jack file it under physical characteristics. She'd figure it out when the ghost was opened up.

Without further ceremony, she chalked the long, skinny capital 'I'.

~~~~~~~ཀ༼ༀ༽ཫ་

The first layer she peeled back was the suit. It was slippery but thick and flexible with the same sort of texture as their own jumpsuits. She took samples to analyze on their own later. When she had time after wading through the solid feast of information laid out before her. To her surprise, there was skin underneath. It was pale and emaciated, but undeniably skin; with freckles, shadows of ribs, and scar tissue. One interesting, but almost completely faded scar branched from its right arm like spiky starbursts to its left collarbone, up its neck, and down its side where it likely extended to its foot. She pressed her fingers to its stomach. It moved like real skin. squishing gently in the gut and slipping over the ribs. She stepped aside so Jack could take a photo of the scarring.

She pressed the scalpel down. Gentle but persistent pressure, and the ghost's best parody of flesh parted easily to reveal dull green muscle. Jack used a cotton swab to dab away the pooling ectoplasm. Maddie was awed. She'd never suspected such detailed insides. She was doubting even more that such a powerful cognitive structure could belong to a harmless child ghost. What child knew the texture of muscle and exactly how they were supposed to lay under the skin? And brought it with them into death? She pulled back this layer with short precise slices.

Now the rib cage was exposed. The bones were blackened as though charred. She pressed a gloved finger against the curve of bone. She scratched her thumbnail against the surface, it didn’t flake like it had been burned or leave a residue on her fingers. It seemed the color had simply been inverted. She passed an arm over her face, sweating in spite of the cold air. She held out her hand to Jack. Wordlessly he placed the saw into her hand.

Tink. Tink. Plunk. Shards of bone hit the tray. Gummy green ectoplasm splattered messily. Maddie dropped the saw next to the pieces of black rib. They were stained all the way through, that being the only noticeable difference from regular bone. Another thing to study more closely.

She'd only taken out the left bottom few ribs so she could get at the organs she could already see pumping underneath it all. They didn't have time to waste on any more. Maddie could practically feel the GIW crawling in her neck hair. She reached into the small hole she'd made, grateful for small slender hands. She'd found the stomach and was groping for a scalpel when the basement door creaked open.

"Mom? Dad?"

It was Jazz. She couldn't see them yet because of the ecto-tank, and a curtain they'd set up before they started. Maddie quickly yanked her arm out, grabbing a roll of paper towels off the table. Jack was sitting in the computer chair, camera hanging from one hand and notebook almost slipping off his lap. He was clearly unnerved. If the ghost could disturb her husband, it would horrify her daughter. She tossed the soiled paper towels to the floor. She cast an analytical eye over the scene, she could admit the child ghost, even with his inhuman features, spread across the observation table looked pretty grisly. Both of them would benefit from a breather.

She pressed a hand to his shoulder. "It's all right, Jack, I'll talk to her. You go get a snack."

He lumbered out of sight, the fudge she hid above the fridge no doubt on his mind. She untied her apron and tossed it aside.

Jazz stared down at them from the landing. She took in their disheveled, splattered state, but it wasn't unlike them to get a little dirty in the normal course of their work. Jazz didn't comment. Maddie decided that she wouldn't even bring up Phantom's capture. Jazz could be a little squeamish sometimes and she had a clear soft spot for that ghost in particular. The ghost that lay half disassembled on their table at that moment. Maddie suddenly felt terribly weary.

She mustered a tired smile for Jazz. "Hey, sweety. Are you hungry? That chili should still be in the fridge."

A normal teenager might have shrugged but Jazz was above that. "I am fine, I just thought you two were going out?"

"Yeah, we were, but what could be a better date than working in the lab together?"

That made Jazz huff. "Whatever you say. I came down here to ask you if you'd seen Danny?"

Maddie cocked her head. "What? Why?"

Jazz looked away, arms crossed with the elegance of a heron, far beyond her years. "I was just wondering. Sam and Tucker were asking. Let me know if he stops by, alright?"

Maddie's eyes narrowed. It wasn't like Jazz to ask them something she could figure out herself. She must be a lot more worried than she was letting on. "Of course we will, are you sure everything's alright."

"Yes, Mom." Jazz groaned impatiently.

She turned to go but Maddie stopped her. "If you're not sure where he is we can help look." she thought regretfully of Phantom in mid operation, but family was really more important.

A pencil line appeared between Jazz's eyebrows. She looked from her to Jack coming up behind with arms full of fudge and what looked like a few girl scout cookies. "No, it's no big deal. And I wouldn't want to tear you away from whatever new weird invention you guys are bonding over."

"What's this about Danny?" Jack asked.

Maddie answered. "Jazz was asking where he was, she's worried about him."

"I didn't say that." Jazz said. "But yes, he isn't answering his phone and he never showed up at Tucker's house."

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, sweety." Maddie soothed. "Danny knows his way around Amity and he's got a clever head on his shoulders believe it or not." Jazz didn't seem to be convinced. There was something else going on, Jazz seemed far too off kilter. Maddie still couldn't believe that Danny was actually in any danger, but it made her uneasy. "Jack? Would you like to go look with Jazz?"

"Huh? Are you sure honey? What about our--- ah, project?"

"I can manage on my own. It'll just come along a lot slower, and I'll miss you. It's okay though, better make sure everything's fine and then you can come back and finish it with me." Maddie was relieved. Jack's stomach was made of strong stuff, not many things bothered him, but she suspected he'd been actually and truly perturbed. It was good he could get a real breath of fresh air.

"Sound's good, Mads!" Jack cried. He grabbed Jazz and whisked her away. "We'll be back in no time."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

The basement lab seemed eerily silent without Jack's big boisterous presence. She wouldn't lie, he was the one who made things fun. On her own, it was easy to slip into a monotonous, cynical autopilot. It was a shame because the creature she was studying was a priceless treasure.

Phantom hadn't moved from how she'd left him. She tied the apron back on and got back to work. Dread spread through her mind like ink in water. It had been growing all this time, she realized, like a balloon inflating above her head, and now it had got so big it filled the entire lab, leaving no room for her. Her heart squeezed, and a chill passed through her. She gritted her teeth and viscously threw the feeling away. It was just the ghost taking advantage of her loneliness and worry over Danny, affecting its surroundings with what small ecto-field it had left.

She pulled out an armful of intestines and piled them on a tray. The LED lights flickered. The ghost was toying with her, even drugged senseless. She fought the urge to snip the organs out entirely and see just how Phantom liked that. She took a deep breath through her nose and forced herself to keep working steadily.

Out came the liver, the stomach, the spleen, one kidney, she couldn't seem to find the other one. As she rooted around looking for it, she risked looking at the ghost's face again. His eyes were still barely open, the slivers were almost flashlight bright though, probably from the increased density of ectoplasm.

"Don't look at me like that," she said. "You're the one who came out of the ghost zone where you belong. Maybe you don't even realize how destructive you are to our world. Your obsessions, your careless rages, no thought to the humans you've endangered even the days you only fought the other ghosts." She sighed, wondering if the exhaustion of culminated months were visible in the weight of her eyelids. All the complaints from justified ghost attack victims, all the sleepless nights, all the frantic inventions made from scratch to somehow deal with the ghost infestation. The time stolen from other things that were supposed to be more important than ghost hunting. It had started so innocently. A passion project. Now the ever present glow of the portal was inescapable, a literal haunting. Phantom's eyes were blind and reactionless. Nothing but a hollow husk for her to confess to. "I suppose we're at fault as much as you are. After all, you couldn't be here if we hadn't cracked a hole through the universe with our own obsession. Ah, found it."

The second kidney plopped onto the pile. "Looks like everything's here so far. I was starting to wonder if you were an organ donor."

She moved up to the chest cavity. Things immediately became more interesting. She carved out the diaphragm, pushed aside the yellow-green sacks of the lungs (Which were still, to her bewilderment, gently rising and falling like silly balloons) to find the bruised heart nestled in the left lung. It pumped. Miraculously and impossibly, if slowly. And there, squeezed into the right lung's space like a distorted mirror image of the heart, was Phantom's core.

It glowed a gentle white, like his aura. But her view of it was obstructed by strange growths. Tiny crystalline shards clung to it like a hoard of bees pressed to their hive. When Maddie brushed her hand over the prickly growths they came away easily as though they hadn't been attached at all. Before she could catch them, they'd fallen to scatter in the gooey recesses of Phantom's body. They sparkled under the harsh LED light. Maddie cursed, it was going to be such a hassle to pick them all out. She held one up to the light. It was clear, almost iridescent like spun glass, and about the size of her thumbnail. It was covered with uniform spikes, the shape reminded her of star candy, or maybe the garland of hand blown starry night Christmas ornaments Maddie carefully packed away every year. This was the most inhuman thing she'd found. She suspected it would be the only thing. She'd pay good money to bet that when she opened up his hands, every single minuscule bone and tendon would be accounted for. What a strange exception. These barbed star shapes should have caused a lot of internal damage, at the very least punctured a lung. But those were ghosts. They weren't really real in the same sense she was.

She suddenly was reminded of all the reports of Phantom hanging around the old broken down observatory. Sightings on new moons, and clear skies of Phantom just floating, high above. Whenever there was any notable astronomical phenomenon, it was good chances he'd be around. Always staring up.

Maddie dropped the star in the metal tray where it plinked softly. She was grateful for her rubber gloves when it loosed a small static charge into the metal tray. The lights flickered again.

She gathered two handfuls of stars, careful not to let any more fall. Now she could see the core clearly, she couldn't help admiring it. The core gleamed like abalone shell. It was a smooth oblong shape that really did seem perfectly set to mimic the heart. Strange green veins grasping it tight like roots.

She'd seen cores before in the animals they'd dissected, and she'd read theories about them. But somehow, standing before a fully developed core of a strong ghost seemed different. Something awe inspiring, and something she shouldn't be seeing. Her hand hovered over it, her fingers long shadows over the strange alien organ. To use such an unscientific term, it felt brave, and young, and yes there was something about the celestial in how the light moved inside the core. He really did love space, didn't he? It hummed as she drew closer, and her fingers started to freeze with cold. Terror shot from the nerves of her hand as though it was a message from her own brain. Terror and a complicated layering of other emotions. Disturbed she drew her hand back.

Phantom's center. Pure ectoplasm and theoretically, the ghost's memory, fuel, and drive all rolled into one. Without it, there would be no obsession, no shape to take form around. It's heart and brain together. It was one of the reasons why most ghosts didn't need either of those other things.

So why did Phantom?

Maddie stumbled back from the table. Suddenly feeling shaky for no reason she could figure out. This ghost was really, actually messing with her head. For all his quips and puns while awake, all his differences to other ghosts, she'd never thought it would be this biological similarity that she should have expected to find in the first place, to unbalance her.

She dragged back her goggles, blinking in the suddenly brighter lights of the lab.  She resisted the temptation to rub her tired eyes with her gory hands. She looked again at the piecemealed ghost on her table. The star growths looked even more sparkly on her tray now. Like childish dreams in crystallized form.

She looked down at her arms, the gloves stained green to the elbow. She'd just slogged through an (almost) perfectly accurate sample of a human body and she looked it. Ghosts were not supposed to have that. Period.

She jumped when her phone rang. It sounded almost angry as it repeated the chirping, obnoxious ringtone. Unwillingly she turned away from the ghost to figure out where she’d left it. It just kept making that blaring noise. She found it in the pocket of her evening coat she’d discarded in the excitement on a relatively clean bench. She removed one of her rubber gloves so she didn’t smear green over everything. She felt like she was missing something huge. Something so important, she’d almost grasped it before her thoughts were interrupted. What was worse was she didn’t want to admit it, so she was less than genial when she switched it on and snapped, “Hello,” into the receiver.

“Mads!” came Jack’s voice.

Maddie sagged against the bench. She glanced back, still all too aware of Phantom behind her. “Oh, good. Did you find him?”

The unusual silence on the other end was answer enough, Maddie felt her heart rate pick up. “I’m sure it’ll be fine Jack, Danny will be waltzing back before dinner and tease us for worrying.”

“I’m not so sure dear. The kids… Jazz didn’t seem to want me with them, and Sam and Tucker kept whispering. I feel like something’s really wrong. And they know more than they’re telling me.”

“Well, you know how kids that age are,” Maddie suggested almost hopefully.

Jack grunted, clearly not convinced, and muttered something about possession and dangerous ghosts. “I’m almost home in the GAV. I think the kids might have ditched me. Not sure though. Do you want to start our own investigation?”

Maddie was about to respond when Jack cut back in. “Maddie.” He said, a dangerous edge to his usually jovial voice. “There’s a roadblock in front of our street.”

Maddie stiffened and cursed. “No way, it’s been peaceful as the grave down here. Are you sure it’s them?”

She heard the sound of an engine on the other end. “Wait I’m backing up— oh dear, didn’t see that. Anyway, it all looks very official and normal like regular road work. But I’ve never seen those fellows with a mass of unmarked, white vans. Have you?”

Maddie’s lip quirked. She looked up as though she’d be able to see the GIW agents gathering over her head. Did she hear something upstairs or was it coming from the phone?  “No, I can’t say I have.”

Jack hissed. “Mads, looks like they’re unloading some serious, sweet looking machinery. Be careful. Here they come to talk to me. I hope you got as much as you could out of that spook!”

The phone hung up with a beep. Maddie stared at the black screen.

She sprang up over the bench to sprint up the stairs. She shot the bolt too, and then for good measure, slammed down the old rusty lock Jack had invented for their lab on one of those dull rainy days when he was too full of ideas and energy, and then proceeded to never use the overcomplicated thing until now. She flew back down. She pushed tables into defensible positions, clearing her notes away into horrible sloppy piles. She was being so logical she hardly knew what she was doing.

The lockers built into the wall opened with a press of her fingerprint. The mechanism clicked, and she wrenched the door back. She pulled down gun after gun. They were all ecto based, made for hunting ghosts and nothing else, but they’d still pack a punch against a living breathing human. She stuffed what she could into her jumpsuit, and slid the rest under the tables to bump softly against a leg of the dissection table. Net gun and Foamer, Jack o’ Nine Tails, and Anti-Creep Stick™. She brushed her hands over her bazooka before hefting it over her shoulder and joining the rest of the stuff next to Phantom.

Now, for sure she could hear movement upstairs. That’s when her brain caught up to her. She was being so sensible she’d completely missed the fact that she was going to have to hand Phantom over without a fuss.

She and Jack had already discussed it. It wasn’t fun but the GIW wouldn’t give them much choice, and better to abscond with first pickings than die on an unnecessary hill fighting with the government for scraps. Let the GIW take the ghostly leftovers like the credit stealing vultures they were. At least, that’s what she’d said on the drive over.

She was still puzzling over her actions when she heard the doorknob rattle. She cocked her Fenton Bazooka. There was a grunt on the other side and a bang as the door was busted off its hinges in one clattering hit. Jack’s poor invention didn’t seem to work well after all. Maddie stayed silent. They wouldn’t be able to see her or Phantom with the curtain drawn in between them and the door. But with the portal spinning behind her casting unearthly light over everything, they couldn’t miss that this was the place they were looking for.

The first booted foot thudded down onto the stair.

On the table, Phantom stirred. His eyelids fluttered woozily. She stared down at him, a sick feeling rising in her gut that had been steadily growing ever since he’d been strapped to the table. She ignored it. She vastly preferred that than acknowledge the failing of her logic and reason. The green beating heart and pulsing lungs flashed before her eyes. The glow of the core and the crystalline structures that littered his body like an ingested galaxy. What an interesting ghost. She set her teeth, safely out of the way of her tongue to avoid injury in the wild situation that was cautiously stomping down the stairs toward her. She braced her bazooka against her shoulder.

It seemed she’d made a decision without even realizing it. Whatever happened? She was not going to let the GIW steal her specimen.

“Dr. Madeline Fenton.” rumbled a dry voice beyond the curtain. The first man had hit the bottom step. “You are harboring a level seven ecto entity, code name, Phantom at the top of the wanted list. Illegal under the anti-ecto Act. It has been deemed too dangerous for civilian researchers. It will be confiscated immediately and transferred to a more secure site. Your cooperation is greatly appreciated.”

“I think I have this quite under control, Sirs.” She said, raising her voice. “But you fellows are trespassing. I’ll tell you once to get off Fenton property.

The deep voiced speaker clicked his tongue. “Dr. Fenton. I expected you to be smarter. You know we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have the jurisdiction. We have complete authority to do whatever we want to you and your family. Now use that logic you’re so fond of. We both know you’re not going to threaten your continued work here over a ghost. No matter how fascinating. Hey, I’m sure the higher ups will even clear you to work on him.”

It took a moment for Maddie to sort through which dumb initial went with the voice. “Agent K. We caught Phantom first, fair and square. Me and my husband are perfectly capable of taking care of it ourselves thank you very much. If you take one step more, you’re facing a lot of messy paperwork.”

She could hear his backup gathering behind him. Any hint of personality in his voice went dry. “I repeat, you are harboring a level seven ecto entity. He will be confiscated with or without your cooperation. Come out with your hands in the air or you will be fired upon.”

“Oh, will I just.” Maddie scooped up the Jack o’ nine tails and swept aside the curtain with the barrel of her gun.

The line of huge men in white suits started for just a millisecond at the huge barrel she was pointing at them. That was enough to bring up the nine tails and release streamers of electricity in every direction.

The men screamed and went down like bowling pins. A gun went off, and glass shattered. A stray tail hit one of the overhead lights and it fell with a shower of sparks. Most of the men were down. The smart ones (or maybe just the lucky ones) had managed to doge the electricity and were pulling themselves back together. Maddie tossed aside the spent Nine Tails and fired the bazooka from her hip. Ecto blasts exploded through the lab. White suits were instantly singed and stained with black and green.

Half of the agents still standing hurtled for her barricade of tables, and the other half took shelter behind their swat shields to train weaponry on her. A circle of green light glinted blindingly off the scope of a government issued rifle.

Maddie dove to the side behind the metal counter. Bullets whined in the air. Flat on her stomach, Maddie pushed away the bazooka and crawled over to the Fenton Foamer. She crawled back to the corner of the counter and peeked out to where the first buzzed heads were poking out of their table foxholes. Someone barked an order and the agents climbed over her barricade. She pulled the trigger. Green foam, freezing cold, with the speed of violent elephant toothpaste poured out of the nozzle. It hit the first man in the chest. He toppled backward, and the foam followed, piling on top of the agents with gummy density.

A few had escaped by being quick on their feet or going around the table. She rolled to one knee and threw the Foamer at the first one. It hit him on the forehead with a klonk and he fell like a stone. For the others she pulled two ecto-rays from her suit. Their compact design meant they couldn’t store a lot of energy, but it worked plenty well in a pinch. She unloaded the entire store into their chests. Their steps slowed under the barrage. Then their jaws went slack and they dropped. The two ecto rays were smoking. At a glance, she could see the gauges on their sides were completely empty. She tossed them away and pulled out her phone from her pocket.

“Any luck, Sweety?” She asked, sneaking a look around her counter. It looked like the GIW had retreated for now beneath the stairs. A few barrels were still stuck out like pins, but they weren’t going to come out for a bit. They had to seriously reassess their situation. She crawled back to her pile of weapons.

Jack made a frustrated noise. “I’m still wrestling with these damn goons, no matter what I say they won’t let me through. The guy’s standing right in front of me. He’s talking about all this paperwork and stuff. Have you met him? He’s got this rat nose, and sort of mushroomy, pouchy eyes. He’s dressed up like a construction worker, as though anyone with eyes couldn’t tell he’s one of the ghost secretaries that are always calling you up. Who are they kiddin? I hate dealing with the GIW— Yes I said GIW, are you serious, of course I know what branch you’re from, stop sweating so much, Man. Alright, I’m not mad, this is just getting very frustrating, and you’re not being very helpful.”

“Sorry it’s not going so well.” Maddie picked up an invention, squinted at it, then tossed it back on the pile. Maybe she was fussing, but she was sure they had the perfect tool to deal with this somewhere. “I actually have some bad news.”

“Not more ghost secretaries in costume, I hope.”

“No, no nothing like that. I’ve just decided not to give Phantom up to the GIW.”

There was a moment of silence while she could feel Jack processing this. “Well,” he said, in his loudest too jovial voice. She winced, she could tell his blood pressure had just skyrocketed. “At least I don’t have to deal with this joker anymore.”

“Exactly. I’m going to need a ride. If we can just get Phantom out of the picture, I’m positive we’ll be able to reason with them. Just get down here. You can run the secretary stooge over with the GAV for all I care— wait no, don’t.” Her brain ran, suddenly seeing a way out of this mess. A vision of that beating heart sharing space with the core shoved itself before her eyes and she pushed it away. “You’re going to use the back door.”

“We don’t have one Sweety.”

“Sure we do, we built it ourselves.” She turned to smile sweetly at the quietly spinning vortex built into their basement wall. Her hand closed around the Anti-creep stick and she hefted it absently, reaching for a sort of harpoon looking thing underneath. “I’d use the specter speeder, but it’s decommissioned for repair right now and I need to deal with these fellows, I can’t turn my back for long. But I think we know someone who’s built their own ghost portal.”

“That’s just a guess though, Mads!”

“He’s shown too much interest in ours. He knows the theory and the engineering you put behind the first prototypes. Put that together with the extra ghost sightings around his house and it’s a very, very good guess. Now it’s going to save us. Oop, I think the GIW are starting to move again. Love ya!”

“Good luck dear, show those white washcloths who’s boss!”

Click. She slipped the phone back into her pocket. She looked up, from her crouch she could just see Phantom’s boots pointed up from where they were tied to the table. His gloved fingers hung over the side next to her head, gleaming white.

“What are you?” Maddie breathed.

She needed so much more time with him. She needed to run blood tests, study the heart, see how all these organ structures held up over time. Would they dissolve immediately into formless ectoplasm when removed from the body and the core? And that core. It was almost like it had been shoved into his chest cavity with no thought, which didn’t make sense next to the intricacies pumping and living in a perfect simulacrum of humanity all around it. It was like there was a veil before her eyes. The truth was staring her right in the face. So why didn’t she want to look at it?

She was interrupted by a cold press against the back of her neck. She carefully turned to look into the emotionless face of Agent K and the others who’d sneaked up on her while she’d been distracted. She was furious enough to spit like a cat, but she forced a serine smile onto her lips and leaned back against the observation table. “Sorry about that, K, this subject is just so interesting. Don’t you think?”

“Put your hands up,” K growled.

Maddie’s hand was still on the Anti Creep Stick. She just needed to direct his attention elsewhere. She pointed up to the operation table behind her. “You’re too late, I’ve already opened up the package.”

K stared at the table. Phantom’s pale, dim glow reflected in his sunglasses. His dark skin was gray in the strange, eerie light. Perhaps he was even shocked by what Maddie had found.

Maddie swung the Anti creep stick in an ark, knocking the muzzle of the gun away from her. K jumped. Back on alert in an instant. The gun went off. It exploded like thunder in her eardrums. The floor tiles cracked only a foot away from her. Maddie sprang away, swinging the bat at any of them who dared come close. There was another bang , and Maddie’s leg shot out from under her.

Maddie fell hard. Her skull bounced on the floor and her vision of the lab tipped, sizzled, and spun with unearthly colors. Oh wait, that’s always what it looked like, ever since they’d shot a hole through the fabric of reality.

Maddie blinked, and K was standing above her. He pointed his huge gun at her chest. Maddie leveraged herself up on her elbows to glower down at the hole in her leg. It was seeping a deep, dull maroon. So different, so lifeless in the light of that other world. She looked back up at K.

He was as blank as ever, he didn’t seem to be exulting in his victory, but maybe this aggressive stance was his version of that. “Stand down, Dr. Fenton. We’re taking you into custody along with the ghost scum.”

Maddie gritted her teeth. She was shaking so much she could almost hear her bones rattling around in her body. She felt her heartbeat. Thud, thud , huge and inescapable, more like the steps of a pursuing movie monster rather than the pump that was keeping her alive. This was the thin veil that separated the dead from the living. It couldn’t even be defined as the ceasing of consciousness anymore now that there were ghosts flying through their midst. All thinking, and speaking, and seeking their goals. All twisted up into narcissistic obsessions. She stared at K. Her breath hiccuping between squeezed lungs and that pursuing thump, thump . Where was the line! Where did whisps become spirits, and spirits became joined to flesh, and bodies rotted from the inside out even as you walked through the supermarket buying sustenance for a family who had all started their own timer to their expiration date. From the very instant of birth. Life eating away at you like an acid. When you were clinically dead, how did a defibrillator reattach the soul to a stopped heart. Her eyes were drawn into pinpoints of rage. Her face was twisted with such anger it didn’t look human anymore, wrinkled with pain and sweat, she looked more like an animal pushed to the brink of sanity. Suddenly a tear squeezed out of her eye.

The tear was followed by more tears and she suddenly couldn’t stop. They dripped down her nose and chin, and she couldn’t get a grip. She covered her face, trying to push the tears back. She moaned. “No. No, he’s not a ghost. He can’t be a ghost.”

K tilted his head, his face scrunched up in disbelief. He hesitated a moment, dithering, then bounced the barrel of the gun off her stomach. His way of dealing with a sobbing woman. “This is beneath you, Dr. Fenton. You won’t get any sympathy from me.”

Maddie choked. She couldn’t stop crying. It felt like she’d taken her scalpel and ripped open her own chest. Faced with the alternative, she wished that’s what had happened. “It can’t be, he can’t be a ghost. Don’t you call him that,” she whispered through hoarse vocal cords.

K clearly thought she was going through a mental break. And maybe she was. The connections her brain had finally drawn were insane after all. Impossible. But the problem was, she couldn’t find a way to dismiss it. The smell of her lab suddenly filled her nostrils. She’d blocked it out she was so used to it, but now the sharp, off-sweet, citrine, and battery acid smell was inescapable.

“I think she’s lost it, Sir.” a younger voice said somewhere behind her, filled with ugly humor.

K’s mouth just twitched. His voice was even when he said, “Dr. Fenton, it’s clear this ghost has exerted some sort of control over you. The GIW will take you in and make sure you’re safe and uncompromised.” K’s eyes darted up and Maddie had no doubt the tranquilizers were on their way.

She sniffed, pressing her mouth together. There were still globs of salt water tracing their ways down her cheeks, but she somehow managed to stop and return K’s civil gaze for civil gaze. She nodded and lifted her hands, creep stick and all. She swallowed past the phlegm in her throat. “I’ll come.”

K nodded, business like. “You’re a very sick woman.”

“I’m a very sick woman,” Maddie answered demurely, lowering her eyelashes. She didn’t need to look to know that to her right, somewhere beyond Phantom’s operation table, was a bright switch surrounded by hazard tape built into the Ecto-containment tanks they’d built. It was another piece of Jack’s engineering. They all knew to stay far away from that big red button because a careless shoulder bump might release all the ghost’s they’d captured into the air. It was handy when she hooked it up to the ghost portal for releasing Amity’s haunters back into their natural habitat, but that was only when it was specifically programmed to do so, with numerous tubes and wires for the ghosts to travel through. Such a careless design flaw.

She sucked in a breath and let out a calm exhale. She twisted and brought her arm down to throw the bat as hard as she could.

Bang . Maddie fell back thrashing and curling into herself with the force of the bullet punched into her side. She never felt it. She felt like she’d turned to stone, all her bones calcifying, and her hag’s fingers carving into crystalizing claws. She stared up at K, her breath pummeling out of her. He let out a single burst of laughter like a cough.

“Where the hell were you aiming, Woman?"

The other agents around her were not so reserved, they burst into fits.

"Huh, didn’t even take advantage of the chance to knock his teeth in!"

"She missed! She really is some sort of crazy.”

K let them get their fun out, an empty grin chiseled onto his face. Finally, he had to holler to reign his men back in line. He was shouting because the rising roar in the air made it impossible to be heard otherwise. The otherworldly light spun giddily on the ceiling. Agent K spun toward the containment tanks, raising his gun. He spoke something into his earpiece but it was drowned out by the hissing warped sounds of ghosts escaping en masse . K’s men were screaming. There was the pounding of more gunfire, but they weren’t prepared to face this scale of ghostly activity. K stepped out of her field of vision, and Maddie soon saw the spectral tails of the ghosts pouring out overhead.

Two of them peeled off from the rest to hover over her. It was a large cat and a wispish girl, her hair spiraling behind her as though underwater. Their blank staring eyes sent chills down Maddie’s numb spine. Static filled her ears and she couldn’t hear a single word as the girl’s mouth moved indecipherably. She trembled, if they attacked her gamble would fail. The girl closed her mouth, apparently she’d said her piece and soared away, hair and dress gliding behind her like midair streams. The cat brushed its long, incandescent whiskers over her before leaping away in another direction. Maybe they knew she was helpless, maybe they recognized she was already close to their side of the veil. Or maybe they knew whatever they might do to her would be a comfort compared to the pain ripping through Maddie’s soul.

Groaning, Maddie turned herself over onto her elbows. She pushed herself along the floor till she could pull herself up with the counter. Her feet slipped under her and she had to rely almost entirely on her arm strength. When she’d finally gotten upright, she stood there, swaying for a moment. A few ghostly lights were still zipping and flashing overhead, but it was like they’d cleared a space around her and the operation table. She lurched forward, dragging herself along the counter. Somewhere behind her the GIW were still shouting, going crazy over the ghost. Any moment they might regain their senses and come for them again. She was going so slow she couldn’t handle it anymore, she launched herself off the counter and grabbed for the edge of the table. She went to her knees, but it was almost easy to pull herself up. She leaned over Phantom. Her breath rushing out of her and the edge of the table wedged into her stomach.

He was just as she’d left him. Disassembled and strewn in pieces. Condolences ectoplasm and drugs still pumping into him through thick tubes as though he was a balloon they needed to keep inflated. That heart was still thumping though. She waited for it with white knuckles on the rim of the table. A slow, sleepy, throb in time with the inflation of the lungs. Maddie reached over the canyon of his chest, blind to it. All she could see was that his eyes had finally closed and the oxygen mask that sold the lie of the fiendishness underneath. She ripped it off, opaque gas flooding out with a hiss. She wrenched the mechanism Jack had designed away, wishing she could just throw it to the floor. One of the foldable joints cracked.

Underneath was the pasty face, gleaming in the way only ghosts did. But it was so young, why hadn’t she allowed herself to accept the possibility that that was all that the face was. No mask at all. Just young. Phantom had never let them get so close. Of course not, they’d said, it was natural ghost spookishness (hah.) Her hands spasmed and with a cry she pressed her hands against Phantom’s face, pushing back the hair so she could stare at the sleeping boy underneath.

She studied each of his features to exacting precision, but it was no use, she could already see the truth.

“My baby,” she whispered. “My baby boy.”

The eyes opened back up into green, glowing crescents, spiraling with the same unearthly energy as the portal. She let go and the white, ghostly hair drifted back down over his face. She was looking at Phantom, but it was a thin mask indeed.

“Danny, I’m so sorry,” she said, sob catching in her throat.

T̴̡͗̑Ȋ̴̛͕̼͔̭̐̀̚M̴͖̜͌̽ͅÉ̴̞̖̔͂͌̌ ̴̰̯̈Ő̸͖̀Ù̶͖̻̀̐T̷̘̠̓͂̉͒́

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵👻

Maddie first became aware of movement passing before her vision. They resolved into shapes and color, but the ability to understand the messages her eyes were sending her brain stalled.

She felt a hand squeezing hers. It was weak but steady and stubborn. It was cold too, almost freezing.

All of a sudden she felt the bullet wounds again, red hot squeezing in her flesh. She would have staggered, only she couldn’t do that yet. What in the world was happening she wondered desperately.

Now she could hear. There was a ticking like someone had shoved an analog clock right up against her ear, and there was someone speaking. It was a dry, ancient voice. “—being unreasonable. Come, Daniel, must you continue this stubbornness.”

Danny’s voice was staticky like the distortion of a radio transmission from a long way away, and hoarse— but how could she have not realized it was his for so long? “Yeah right Clocky, After all, I am so well known for my reasonableness, good conduct, and ease of use.”

Finally, her brain translated the shapes and colors in front of her eyes. There was Phantom, still lying on the operation table, but now he was fully awake, staring furiously at the strange ghost standing on the other side of the bed. He was ancient, wearing purple robes clasped with a tarnished cogwheel. The skin of his face was so delicate with wrinkles it was transparent, seamed by an ugly jagged scar down his cheek. Eery red eyes gazed down on her son, completely unreadable. He held a strange medallion which he’d draped over what was left of Danny’s chest. Maddie quickly looked away.

How could this ghost talk to Danny so leisurely when he’d been injured so horribly? He needed help, not a lecture. Maddie struggled against the strange numbness that suffused her limbs. He needed a shot of ecto-dejecto first to stabilize his core, which was dangerously exposed, everything needed to be put back together including the missing pieces of ribs she’d taken. Panic rose up her throat like bile, at each desperate tally list she felt like she was going more and more insane. How could she ever fix this? She managed to slowly leverage her mouth open. She sucked in a long breath to yell at this strange ghost. The hand holding hers tightened its grip into a frenetic warning. She glanced down and saw her numb hand, frozen on the bed frame where she’d last left it. Danny had edged his hand to the side, to the furthest extent Jack’s bindings would let him, till he could clutch it over her white knuckles.  

All Maddie could do was look at him, mind spinning with questions. But she kept silent and didn’t try to move anymore.

Before her eyes, the old ghost (Clocky?) became young again. The wrinkles slithered off his face, smoothing away till there were only a few crow's feet surrounding the hollows of his unblinking eyes. His back straightened till he was towering over both of them. Not as tall as Jack, but she was struggling not to feel intimidated, especially with Danny laid out helpless between them. She wanted to wrench Danny away, hide him far away from this ghost.

He spoke. “So, it seems she figured things out in the end. A little too late I believe.”

“But… she regretted it didn’t she?” Clocky didn’t answer and Danny grinned wanly, his pale face almost skeletal. “So you lost. Not this or any other situation you can throw me into will make me agree to your dumb plan.

“You’ll forgive me, but I am not convinced,” was the dry answer. “You forget, I have the patience of ages.”

Danny went stiff. “You’re not going to stop, are you? The Observants are going to notice something’s up with you eventually. Sooner or later they’ll reign you in. They won’t let you take control so easily. But you can’t haunt me forever, of course you could, you're the ghost of time. Well, I won’t let you. I beat Pariah Dark, I’ll figure out some way to make you leave me alone.” Clocky was still silent, face completely blank against Danny’s rant. Danny, desperation evident on his face, said, “what about all that talk about using time responsibly? You can’t be planning what I think you are.”

Clocky tilted his head, studying Danny like a strange but particularly fascinating beetle. “I know you never conceived how far the extent of your parent's cruelty could reach. Their desecration of the dead has already surpassed the sins of their ancestors. With this newest act, I see no redemption, only the sorrow of starting to realize how foolish they’ve been. They’ve already been punished for their hubris.” he touched Danny lightly on the cheek. “And now they must finally begin to face it. Oh no, Daniel, the infinite realms could not be more in tune with my actions.”

“Well it doesn’t matter, I’m not going to be your puppet.”

He sighed. When he leaned forward his robe parted to reveal a window set into his chest, clockwork buzzing beneath. “I have tried to be lenient.”

“Manipulative,” Danny bit out with acid.

“But for time to advance as it should, I need you. It saddens me that I must use such painful methods.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“More than you know, Daniel. I hope someday we shall be able to look back on this trial together and see its necessity. But first you must pass through it. I think soon you shall see your human ties are not worth nearly as much as you put by them. It caused the destruction of one timeline, I will not let it subsume this one.”

Danny shook his head, almost spitting with resentment.

“What parent would do this to their child?” Danny had no answer to that. Maddie felt bits of her heart crumble and she wanted to shrivel up and disappear. She wanted to close her ears and stop listening but she was still frozen, and she wasn’t even the one these words were aimed toward. “Because he cared for you, that boy was injured by his own kind. Samantha Manson and your sister never knew anything could be wrong until it was too late. Jasmine stood in this very room where your being was being unwound and documented, and asked where you could be. Such human weakness. You put your friends directly into danger and they completely failed to protect you when it counted. All while the two who made you were destroying you to your very soul.” He shook his head. “Come with me now, Daniel, and we can put these wearisome memories behind us. I can promise you, You will never feel pain again.”

“I— I can’t. I can’t leave them.” To her horror a wobbly tear gathered in her brave, brave boy’s eye. It overspilled the corner of his eye and traced a line into his ear. And then more lines fell like the tracks of a river on a map. His pale green eyes were completely obscured by a film of liquid. “They’re my family, I don’t want to leave them. Please, Mom.” His gaze flicked to hers and then quickly back to CW. “She didn’t know.” He composed himself, sucking wet air in as though each breath was as difficult as running a marathon. His eyes drifted down, their light dim. He looked exhausted. His voice was tiny. “Please don’t do this to me.” Maddie felt his grip on her hand weaken.

Clocky sighed and leaned so far over Danny it was like he was hunched again. He brushed white hair away from Danny’s forehead. Maddie wanted to grind her teeth. That was her job. A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her she might have forfeited it forever, but for now she could pretend she was still worthy to touch her son.

Clocky’s voice lowered into a soothing whisper. “You know you have the power to end this with a word. I’ll always be watching.”

She could feel Danny slipping away into unconsciousness in the returning creep of cold numbness. She felt like the world was growing gray and distant.

Clocky’s voice wasn’t just low, it was muffled as though through layers of felt. “Only call my name and I will be here. But I want you to remember what comes next.”

As Danny’s fingers slipped away from her own, and she fell away into the still nothingness he’d pulled her from. As gray wool like thunderclouds crept over her vision and dissolved into shapes and colors that she couldn’t comprehend, she saw the ghost tenderly lay the gear shaped medallion inside Danny’s chest cavity.

Nestled right alongside his core.

[awarmshrine]

Tw: psychiatric incarceration, SA and violence and restraints mentions, psychiatric neglect, group homes, self doubt.

Okay this post should definitely be a journal entry but like.

Every time they went to discharge me I kept telling the psychiatrists in hospital "being here is the only time I feel properly stable. Despite the literal SA, physical violence, gaslight, emotional violence, chemical restraints etc. I can actually think clearly, plan, comfortably interact with peers, and stay somewhat sane here."

And every time they would say "haha yeah well everyone would love a break from housework and responsibilities! no wonder you feel good, you don't have to do anything. Goodbye now, go back to having 30 minutes of support once a fortnight, that's all you deserve." And then I end up back in the emergency department 3-6 business months later.

And none of those doctors once stopped and thought...well maybe this person needs a higher level of support all the time, at baseline.

Maybe I need to be checked on every half hour. Maybe I need structured daily activities. Maybe I need help cleaning and cooking and regulating my emotions. Maybe I need someone to help me plan out my day and help me set limits for myself and help me manage medication. And idk I feel so ashamed to say so because I'm literally a psychiatric abolitionist and I don't believe psych wards should exist at all. But I can't stop wishing I could be in SIL (what we call supported group homes here).

Idk I don't want to take away from higher needs disabled people who wouldn't survive without this care because to some extent I can usually (not always but usually) perpetuate my own existence without it...but recently I saw a video where someone said "people who don't need wheelchairs don't daydream about wheelchairs" and maybe this is the same. Maybe people who don't need 24/7 socio-emotional support don't daydream about it.

[kiki-sleeps]

MHA - Hitoshi Shinso x reader

A/N: Exactly after a year since I've created my tumblr account, I've been so mesmerized by the sheer amount of content that I completely forgot about writing myself lol. Anyways, this a one-shot based on a character I created a long time ago and it was written around that time so my style is different from the Jack Frost story. Let me know which of the two you think is better and why if you feel like leaving a comment or a reblog <3

LISTEN TO THE SONG CHLORINE - TWENTY ONE PILOTS WHILE READING (I changed the lyrics a little bit to make them fit with the story, it shouldn't be noticeable tho) 

TW: Torture, mentions of needles, blood, (semi)gore, character death, wounds, tubes and stitches (lmk if I should add other warnings)

So where were you? It's been a little while

The doctor's voice wakes me up from my slumber as I feel multiple tubes and needles injecting in my skin. My eyes are half-lidded, blurry figures hovering over mine. Ahh, it's truly been a fair bit of time since I've been here. I didn't miss it. These experiments have been draining the life out of me. They put me in one of the capsules for monitoring and then he speaks again; 

"Aren't you happy? We'll do one of your favourites!" 

His voice is muffled by the glass, but I hear his sarcastic words perfectly. He turns his head to one of the nurses and orders:

"Go full out in the lungs" 

Sippin' on straight chlorine, let the vibes slide over me

The ugly smell makes its way through the mask on my face, and I can feel my senses going numb for the umpteenth time in my life. My head starts spinning, and so do my thoughts. This could be regarded as getting high, but it's nowhere near as happy as that. The euphoric feeling doesn't exist here. Just nothing. 

This beat is a chemical, beat is a chemical

The only thing I feel is the steady rhythm of my heart. Like a calm drum that goes in pair with the ringing in my ears. It's a lonely soothing feeling, like a lullaby that's just for me. 

When I leave don't save my seat, I'll be back when it's all complete

Memories come to mind. 

"Don't worry," I said to him. "I'll be fine." 

Lies. I should have just said goodbye when I had the chance. 

The moment is medical, moment is medical

My depressing regrets come to a temporary end as my tired eyes look at a finger tapping on the glass. They do this every time. 

"If you see it, it means you're healing." 

Healing from what? I've never been sick in the first place. You're the ones who created a whole clinical identity for me. 

I was fine, once upon a time. But my story is no fairytale. Just a bunch of unfortunate choices. Except for one. Deciding to give him the last hopes I had is the only thing I regard as the luckiest that could ever happen to me. 

Sippin' on straight chlorine

I want to cough, but I can't. I've tried, when I still had the will to resist. The result? Just vomiting. The tubes are too far and too deep in my throat to make me have any kind of relief by the action. 

Lovin' what I'm tastin'

Still, I like not being able to do anything. Gives me time to think. I never could do it, being worried about even surviving on to the day after. 

Venom on my tongue

Dependant at times

I'm fully conscious of the acid in my mouth, and I love it. Tastes like the ugly tears I've shed in my useless 17 years. Ah, this is too good. How ironic, I've come to appreciate the thing I hated the most.

This beautiful, addictive feeling. 

Poisonous vibration

The capsule shakes, more needles get into my arms. One goes in my cheek, stained with uncontrollable tears. 

Helped my body run

I remember the one time I tried to escape. And I almost succeeded. But seeing the light at the end of the tunnel was too good to be true. 

I'm runnin' for my life, 

Runnin' for my life

I can't explain how I found the strength to break the restraint that kept me here, I just did. But it didn't last long. I was suffocating after all. No one could run more than a couple of meters with all that toxins in the lungs. Like I have now. 

Sippin' on straight chlorine, let the vibes slide over me

This beat is a chemical, beat is a chemical

When I leave don't save my seat, I'll be back when it's all complete

The moment is medical, moment is medical

The process starts again. More silence. I focus on the memory of my hopeless escape. Why did I do it? In the end, I had nothing to live for. 

Right, when I only had these laboratories as a source of knowledge, how could I have the wish to be out? It was probably because I didn't know anything about the outside. It was the thirst for freedom. But now? I have nothing to fight for. I saw what I wanted and met the people I so desperately wanted to talk to. A disappointing experience, to say the least. When they found out I was a testing mannequin, they looked at me like everyone here always did. A monster. A beast, a creature that could go feral if it was so much touched. 

They all did. 

I blink, and an almost forgotten face in all the hatred surrounding my mind comes to thought. 

Shinso. 

He was the only ray of light in the ugly darkness of the world, the sole person who saw past the scars on my skin. 

Oh, yes. He'd be worth fighting for. All of his touches, every little inch of affection he deserves makes it worth the fight. 

Sippin' on straight chlorine

I inhale profoundly. I've decided. If not for myself, I'll do it for him. I'll get out of this hell hole and be free again. And this time, I won't be caught. 

Fall out of formation

Without making it noticeable, I slowly start to move my arms, testing what I can and cannot control. I can move almost everything, but the skin is completely numb, I've lost all sensitivity. 

Well, not like I care. This could be actually good, I won't feel any pain even if they shoot me. 

I plan my escape from walls they confined

I close my eyes and free my mind of everything useless. I have to make a plan, I can't just burst out and hope to be lucky. Think, think! What can you do? I could break out and take the nearest syringe to get to a weapon, but after that? More information, I need more! All the simulations in my mind end all in the same way: failure. There must be something– Oh. Yes, that could work. It kinda looks like my savior, that little annoying finger belonging to an armed guard. 

Ok, time to put it in action. 

I gather all my strength, and pull myself up with all the strings still attached to me. I focus on the hit I have to give to the glass with my head to make it break. 

Ah, it worked. 

Rebel red carnation

The pieces of the capsule cap I broke are impaling my arms, but I don't care, I don't even feel them. Blood is pouring out, almost too blue to be recognizable if not for the metallic smell it has. 

Grows while I decay

This isn't exactly the best thing that could happen. Losing blood means a higher chance of fainting and less resistance. Damn it. 

I jump out taking the shards of glass and throwing them around. At least I can make a bit of people incapable like this. None of them has to leave the room, I can't have the alarm going off just as I lifted a finger. 

I pull the guard in front of me by the hand. 

"This is the finger that likes to tap as if I'm a fish in a bowl, huh? I can't let you keep it then!" 

Is this my voice? It sounds foreign, a stranger that talks like me. Well, no matter, I can't be distracted now by futile things. 

With a little bit of sickening happiness, I cut off the hand of the soldier with the last shard and take his gun. 

I'm runnin' for my life

Runnin' for my life

Yeah, I'm runnin' for my life

Runnin' for my life

I spin and start to run, bare feet resounding against the floor tiles. My breath is ragged, and I'm opening my mouth like a gaping fish out of water. 

Had you in my coat pocket, where I kept my rebel red

Come on, come on! Think of him, he'll give you strength! I grit my teeth as the lights start to flicker and go red. Tch, they were able to give the alarm. 

I felt I was invincible, you wrapped around my head

It doesn't matter, I can still play. In my mind now the only thing that goes round and round are the words he once said to me;

"I love you"

Like a broken record, my head plays and replays the memory, as if to give me confidence. And it works. I don't care if I slip, I just run and run and run. 

Now different lives I lead, my body lives on lead

I want to be with him again, I want to be the idiot who thought he was joking when he asked her out, I want to be that girl again!! 

But it feels as if that is a totally different universe, where a lucky distorted version of me can be happy. But not the me right now. 

The mixture of chemicals is taking control of me, my eyes are starting to see black dots in the corners of my vision. 

The last two lines may read incorrect until said

No, it's not finished until I say so. I refuse to give up now that I have something to strive for. I didn't get drugged just to trip at the last second. I. Won't. Fail. 

The lead is terrible in flavor

I want to puke. And technically, I could. No plastic tubes are here to stop me now. No, no, bad thoughts. Just push it down and you'll be fine. Standing up, I gulp and dash down the white hall again. 

But now you double as a papermaker

As I run behind a corner to avoid some bullets, I'm taken down by memories again. Oh great, a panic attack. Just what I needed. The rush of colors in my head is fabricating episodes that never existed. Words thrown at me by my stupid brain created from layers of anxiety. 

And the first ones, always making me freeze in my steps, are said by the lips I love the most, twisting in a cruel smirk, a double faced mask covering the features of the boy I adore;

"You're a monster, how could I ever love you?" 

Supported by the real reminder of the only times we ever argued, the fake statement creeps fast through my mind, breaking the last bit of self restraint I have. 

I despise you sometimes

I shout, I have to move or these shadows lurking in my mind won't leave me alone. I start to talk in my head, to remain sane. At least, as sane as I could be. 

"Hey Shinso, you know what? I hate you. For making me do this, for making me wish for a life that wasn't mine to begin with!" 

But it's a lie. I love him, so much it hurts. 

I love to hate the fight and you in my life is like

And the actual discussions we had, I hated them with a passion. I could never be mad at you. How could I? The happiness I felt with you was so overwhelming. 

I could only see you. Kinda like

"Sippin' on straight chlorine" ,

let the vibes slide over me

This beat is a chemical, beat is a chemical

When I leave don't save my seat, I'll be back when it's all complete

The moment is medical, moment is medical

Sippin' on straight chlorine

I huff, this is taking a huge toll on my body. I don't know how many turns I've taken, how many people I've killed, and I can't bring myself to care. I just want to find the damn exit in this labyrinth of walls and closed windows. I want to be mad. I want to let myself be consumed by the rage that wants to erase this hell from existence. I want to, but I can't. For two simple reasons. Blood loss and toxins. I'm running on adrenaline and suppressor chemicals, the only quirk I have right now is the will to save my ass. 

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Beat is a chemical, yeah

My heart is beating frantically, maybe I can finally go apeshit? 

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Moment is medical, yeah

No, I have to stay sane. I don't want to die here because I couldn't control my rage. 

Sippin' on straight chlorine

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Beat is a chemical, yeah

I can see it, I can see the emergency exit sign light! It's so close, I can get there–

My feet skidder on the floor as I'm stopped by a loud explosion. 

Out of hole in the wall, guided by the purple hair I recognize immediately, in all their glory stand my classmates from UA. How…? They're not supposed to be here, they're supposed to hate me! No, no, this is all wrong-

"Sorry for being late, love. This place was hard to find." 

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Moment is medical, yeah

And I can see it. The dark circles under his eyes are even more accentuated than usual, he must have stayed nights awake just to find me. I'm so happy he's here, the tears come to my eyes in a reflex.

I'm so sorry, I forgot you

Behind him, in their full geared suits, my friends start to fire at the soldiers. Kirishima gives me one of his usual toothy grins. How could I forget the stupid nicknames, full of affection, the late night games, the long shopping sessions? How could I ever think the ones who lured me out of my shell could turn against me? 

Let me catch you up to speed

I run towards them. I throw my gun, I don't even care anymore. I just want to get to the blinding light they all emit, a promise of salvation I desperately want to grasp. I'm almost there, I'm almost there! 

A bang makes me gasp. A bullet, straight through my heart. I let out a blood-curdling scream. Ah, I'm falling. I look up ahead, Shinso's violet widened eyes are staring at me, his mouth open. I'm waiting for the impact, but he catches me. Sweet, sweet Shinso. Always going to be my knight in shining armor, huh? He turns me to face the ceiling as I lay motionless in his arms. I watch as he shouts for a paramedic. 

He then turns to me;

"Everything's going to be ok, don't worry, you'll be fine-" 

I stop him. I just want to tell him one last thing:

"I've been tested like the ends of

A weathered flag that's by the sea" 

All the pain is summed up in a sentence. Almost too easy to describe the amount of suffering. And yet, it fulfills its purpose. 

I ask him one last thing. 

"Can you build my house with pieces?" 

I'm just a chemical

Can you promise me you'll still do everything you told me? Will you continue to live without me, happy? Please do. All the things we wanted to try together, do them for me. And the smile you hid all these years, show it. To someone who can brighten up your days like I won't be able to do. 

"No, no, no! We have to do it together, you promised!" 

"Can you build my house with pieces?" 

I'm just a chemical

I take my hand up to his cheek, once full of wrinkles because of the joyful laugh only I was able to hear. I wipe his tears away. 

Promise me. Please. 

"N-no, I don't want to, there's still enough time! S-see? The ambulance is coming!" 

"Can you build my house with pieces?" 

I'm just a chemical

He starts sobbing, and places his hand above mine.

I'm fine with this. An appropriate death for a cursed life. I know he'll move on. He's strong. He'll achieve his dreams and so more. Even though I won't be there to see it. I ask him one more time.

"Can you build my house with pieces?"

At last, he promises. 

"I-I swear I will."

Good boy. Ah, it's time. I can feel my conscience slipping away. I'm so, so tired. I want to sleep. As I close my eyes, the last thing I see are his vibrant purple irises full of tears. At least, their comforting color will accompany me to the other side. If there is one for me, that is. There could never be heaven for a creature like me. 

After all, 

I'm just a chemical

[mystic0idoit]

My Doctor, My Patient

Peter Ballard x M!Reader cause you guys deserve it.

Tw: abuse, torcher, and 18+

Minors idc if you interact everyone's a simp.

Y/n wasn't like the other patients, y/n was used as a lab rat. They would test him with chemicals and products to insure safety for the children. Y/n was the adopted son of Dr. Brenner. Y/n was only adopted for the purpose of the lab.

Y/n and Peter knew each other for a while, a year after Henry came, y/n came. They know each other for so long. Depsite the fact Peter was genuinely crazy with power, and y/n was simple and weak. They are good friends. Even when Peter became an Orderly and y/n stayed a patient.

Peter always had a soft spot for the boy. He didn't understand it at first, but eventually he learned it was love. He yearned for the feeling to go at first, the feeling suffocated him. Peter was so enchanted by everything you did. Like when you held him, rather it was out of fear or not.

Currently, you had to withstand a electronic device. Planned to be use soon you assume. "Alright, are you ready Y/n?" Dr. Brenner asked, you frowned, and nodded. Immediately you felt pain through you while body. You closed your eyes, and screamed. Ear piercing scream that it was, you couldn't cry. It would only hurt more, so you continued to scream.

It felt like ages, sitting there withstanding different level shocks, each one hurting more and more. Finally you were done, you looked at your lap and cried. Dr. Brenner patted your head. "Good job my boy, very well done," he said, you didn't care you wanted Peter. "Peter take y/n to get fixed, he has more testing to do," Dr. Brenner ordered, as he walked away. You whimpered at the thought of more.

Peter went to you immediately, whispering praises as he unlocked your restraints. He tried helping you up, but you fell to your knees. "Peter, carry him if he can't stand," Dr. Brenner said, Peter didn't mind this order, he happily scooped you up. Carrying you out the room, immediately you held him tighter.

"Good boy, your such a good boy, you did so well, so strong," he whispered in your ears. He slightly rubbed your thigh with his hand, you felt butterflies at the faint touch. So soft, so pleasant, it made you feel warm. When you got to the nurse, no one was there. So per usual, Peter laid you on a bed, and grabbed bandage and other necessities.

He sat infront of you looking at you with a frown. "Oh my sweet bug, my cute spider," he whispered, moving to kiss each electric burn on your neck. "My cute spider," he mumbled, you squirmed. To much, to much praise. Your skin was sensitive, and your mind was mushy. Perhaps a result to the electric burns.

"Henry," you whined, he only shushed you softly, as he continued kissing your burns. "S-sensitive," you tried to warn, he only smiled, all sweet thoughts flooded away with his response.

"Well isn't that great, for me, I'd get to hear you more," he insisted, looking at you causing a whimper to be heard. "Though we will have to abandoned this room, to mine," He continued, carrying out the room, to his not that far away.

The moment he put you down on the bed, he started to undress himself. He then sat infront of you without any cloths, just his boxers. "Pretty boy, such a pretty boy," he declared as he admired your flustered images, he then pulled the hospital gown over you. Going to attack your poor neck.

You wrapped your arms around him, whining at the feeling of your neck being touched so softly, and at the growing feeling. "Peter please," you begged. He chuckled at your impatient ways. He pulled you onto of him, and smiled.

"So very impatient, tell me what you want my sweet bug," he demanded, knowing how sensitive you are, he rocked you hips onto of his lap. You could only whimper and whine, becoming a hot mess so easily. He smirked, loving when you become to dumb fucked to speak, it makes teasing so easy.

"Words my little princess, be a good boy," he told you, you tried your hardest to muster up a sentence. As hard as it was feeling his cock rub against yours and your ass, feeling seconds away from losing it.

"In, please I- want you in," you moaned feeling his hand now palm you though your boxers, you settled your hands on his shoulders feeling two sensations at once. Peter hummed, watching you lose yourself, he smiled softly at your attemps.

"Can you look at me first?" He asked you, so softly, knowing time was limited, though he didn't care, he wanted to have you beg, have you feel like you needed him so badly, as if only he can touch you the way you want.

You compiled, half lidded eyes, slightly parted mouth, eyes begging Peter to fuck him. "Good boy," he said, he pulled his boxers, and yours down. Gently leveling you down ontop of him. Watching you pant, and hold his shoulders tighter. He kissed you as he waited for you to settle. His tounge exploring your mouth, as he rubbed your sides.

You whined letting him know to move, he pushed you into the mattress and began thrusting into you. "Good boy, such a good little mess," Peter praised, moving his hand to pump your cock. You were moaning out like crazy, drooling as his pace quickened.

"Peter!" You yelped as his teeth sucken in your neck, tears forming in your eyes, bubbling was in your gut, as to much leas to you Cummings. Though Peter didn't stop. He planned on using you as a release, letting out all pent up anger from seeing you get hurt so badly to thurst into you so hardly. Hitting your prostate everytime.

You were indeed a mess, a cute little mess. "Good boy, such a good boy, so good for me,"

He whispered in your ear, as he came into you, you wrapped your arms around him, as he held your leg over your shoulder, still pounding into you. Seconds later you came again, and he stopped, he shifted to your side, keeping his cock in you. "Good job, my little pretty boy," Peter praised as he played with your hair.

You fell asleep out of exhaustion, leaving Peter to clean you up later, and explain to the Dr that your to weak to continue still.

[serickswrites]

Whump One Shots VI

Island in the Sun--TW: captivity, restraints, torture

Lather, Rinse, Repeat--TW: captivity, torture, manipulation, restraints, brainwashing, wounds, infection, failed rescue

Elf on the Shelf--TW: kidnapping, restraints, gag, threat of torture, blood, wounds, stabbing, unconsciousness, used as bait, rescue, hospital

This Life--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, touch-starved

Corner--TW: pursuit, threat of violence, kidnapping

Voices--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hallucinations

Things We Lost--TW: referenced captivity, referenced head injury, fire, nightmares, chronic pain, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort

Before I Sleep--TW: kidnapping, implied torture

Little Thing--TW: captivity, chemical restraints, drugging, implied noncon, creepy/intimate whumper

Shake It Off--TW: captivity, restraints, choking, seizures, forced to watch, torture, poison

Take a Bullet--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, rescue, gun, gun fire, gunshot, blood, bloody nose, mcd, hurt/no comfort, survivor's guilt

Sorry I've Been Gone--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, video recording, forced to watch, begging, crying, knife, stabbing, stab wound, blood, wounds, bleeding out, collapse, unconsciousness, hospital, bedside vigil

Help Me--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, head injury, blood, bleeding from the mouth, unconsciousness, rescue, unclear character status

From a Whisper--TW: hostage situation, torture, captivity, emotional manipulation, self sacrifice, bruises, broken bones, blood, wounds, strangulation, choking, unconsciousness

Make It Stop--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, cruel whumper

Caretaker is whumper request--TW: injury, head injury, unconsciousness, implied captivity

Grim Reaper--TW: nightmares, referenced trauma, implied captivity, implied drugging, unclear character status

You're Awake--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, unconsciousness, blood, blood loss, rescue, caretaker and whumpee

I'm Fine--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, bloody nose, bruises, rescue

Heaven Don't Cry--TW: guns, gunfire, blood, gunshot, wound, unconsciousness, unclear character status, caretaker and whumpee

Believe in Me--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, bruises, blood, rescue, unconsciousness, caretaker and whumpee, hurt/aftermath

Not Listening--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, gag, video recording, knife, blood, threat of death

Helplessly--TW: blood, bleeding, wounds, unconsciousness, temporary character death, cpr, stabbing, stab wound, caretaker and whumpee

Bite Down--TW: field med, blood, wounds, crossbow, crossbow bolt, gore, unconsciousness

Obey--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, asphyxiation

Rope--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture (unspecified), catatonia, blood, scrapes, hurt/aftermath

Vampire whumper request--TW: hypnosis, hypnotism, biting, blood, vampire

Why Won't It Stop--TW: explosion, head injury, blood, bloody nose, unconsciousness

Stop Talking--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, blood, stabbing, bleeding out, mcd, hurt/no comfort

Whumper lies to Caretaker request--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, physical violence, bruises, broken bones, deception, unconsciousness, rescue

Semi--TW: explosion, fire, head injury, blood

Between the Sheets--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, mcd, hurt/no comfort

Tattered and Torn--TW: captivity, restraints, torture, wound, infection, infected wound, caretaking performed by whumper

Baby Come Back--TW: death, temporary character death, captivity, torture, drowning, revival, rescue

These Arms of Mine--TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, hospital, nightmares, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Truth--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, physical violence, bruises, truth serum, drugging, noncon drug use, video recording, hostage sitaution

Meant to Be--TW: gun, gunshot, gunfire, gunshot wound, blood, bleeding out, mcd, hurt/no comfort

I Care--TW: captivity, physical violence, restraints, drugging, creepy/intimate whumper, yandere, suicide, faked suicide, fake blood, presumed dead

Allowed--TW: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, drowning, infection, rescue, mcd, hurt/no comfort

The Unforgiven--TW: betrayal, head injury, stranded

The Point--TW: kidnapping, restraints, threat of torture

[sonali2345]

"From Disruption to Recovery: COVID-19 Impact on Smart Phone Battery Market" 

The smart phone battery market is set to experience substantial growth in the upcoming years, driven by the increasing demand for smartphones. Acting as modest energy storage devices, these batteries play a crucial role in powering the entire hardware within smartphones, including processors, displays, and various functionalities. It's important to note that processors in the low and mid-range categories consume less power compared to flagship counterparts. Consumers often prioritize the battery when selecting a new smartphone, as these devices are not designed to maintain peak performance indefinitely. 

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐃𝐅 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐞 https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/request-toc-and-sample/16232  

Smartphone batteries operate through a chemical reaction within the battery, converting electricity from the wall into stored energy that powers the smartphone. Over time, batteries experience a reduction in capacity, leading to quicker discharges. The two dominant battery types in the market are Li-ion and LiPo, with Li-ion being more prevalent in cell phones. LiPo batteries represent the advanced segment in the market. 

Market Dynamics: The COVID-19 pandemic significantly impacted the smart phone battery market, resulting in a temporary decline in demand. Disruptions in the supply chain and limitations on the movement of raw materials hindered production. Lockdown restrictions led to a decreased demand for smartphones, directly affecting the smart phone battery market. However, as economies recover and demand for smartphones rises, the market is expected to regain momentum. 

Top Influencing Factors: The primary driver for smart phone battery demand is the global surge in smartphone usage. Continuous technological advancements in the mobile industry contribute to market growth, with a focus on enhancing battery efficiency and lifespan. However, safety concerns regarding the storage and transportation of discharged batteries pose challenges. Governments impose restrictions due to the hazardous nature of spent batteries, containing substances like acids and heavy metals. Despite these challenges, the rise in investments, developments in battery technology, and the demand for longer-lasting batteries present growth opportunities. 

𝐄𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/purchase-enquiry/16232  

Market Trends: Researchers have made strides in developing Lithium-sulfur (Li-S) ion batteries, demonstrating significant advantages such as 2-3x higher specific energy than Li-ion batteries, longer battery life, reduced weight, and lower manufacturing costs. Samsung SDI unveiled a high-capacity 111Ah ESS battery cell with increased energy density, showcasing innovations in the energy storage sector. 

Key Benefits of the Report: This report provides a comprehensive analysis of the smart phone battery market, offering insights into current trends and future estimations. It covers key drivers, restraints, and opportunities, along with a detailed examination of market share. The quantitative analysis spans from 2020 to 2030, portraying the market growth scenario. Porter's five forces analysis illustrates the dynamics between buyers and suppliers, shaping the competitive landscape 

𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐂𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 @ : https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/request-for-customization/16232  

Smart Phone Battery Market Highlights: 

Type: Lithium-Ion Battery, Nickel Metal Hydride Battery 

Application: Full-View Display Phones, Ordinary Phones 

Region: North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, LAMEA 

Key Market Players: Panasonic (Sanyo), ATL, Murata, COSMX, Sunwoda Electronic, BYD, TWS, SAMSUNG SDI, LG Chem, DESAY 

[rohanshine18]

Smart Factory Market is Poised to Exhibit A Moderate 10.5 % CAGR through 2019 to 2028

Smart Factory Market Overview 2019 to 2028

The Global Smart Factory Market is expected to reach above USD 160.1 billion by 2028, to surpass at a CAGR of 10.5% during the forecast period 2019 to 2028.”

Global “Smart Factory Market” analysis report provides readers with in-depth information on the key segments of the Palladium Carbon Catalyst business landscape and covers general information on market dynamics such as major revenue growth drivers & restraints, emerging opportunities & challenges, and current market trends. Market revenue growth rate, market size forecast, price volatility, changes in demand and supply charts, production and consumption patterns, product portfolios of key players, revenue and sales revenue, gross margins, manufacturing costs, industry statistics, etc. Other important factors of, and various macroeconomic and microeconomic factors are also discussed in the report.

The report uses advanced analytical tools such as Porter's Five Forces Analysis and SWOT Analysis to explain the ever-changing growth patterns and dynamic environment of the industry. The report's core competencies include research methodology, market overview, market segmentation, regional analysis, competitive landscape, technological innovations, future developments, and a list of tables and figures.

Get a Sample PDF of the Smart Factory Market Report @ 

https://exactitudeconsultancy.com/reports/2058/smart-factory-market/#request-a-sample

Top Key Companies of Smart Factory Market in 2022:

ABB Ltd. (Switzerland), Endress Hauser AG (Switzerland), Emerson Electric Co. (US), General Electric (US), Rockwell Automation, Inc. (US), Schneider Electric SE (France), Siemens AG (Germany), Mitsubishi Electric Corp. (Japan), Honeywell International Inc and Others

Smart Factory

Market Segmentation

Smart Factory Market By Component, 2019-2028, (IN USD Billion)

Industrial Sensors

Industrial Robots

Industrial 3d Printers

Machine Vision Systems

Smart Factory Market By Solution, 2019-2028, (IN USD Billion)

Scada

PAM

MES

Industrial Safety

Smart Factory Market By Industry, 2019-2028, (IN USD Billion)

Process Industries

Oil & Gas

Chemicals

Pharmaceuticals

Energy & Power

Metals & Mining

Pulp & Paper

Food & Beverages

Others

Discrete Industries

Automotive

Aerospace & Defense

Semiconductor & Electronics

Machine Manufacturing

Medical Devices

Others

Grab Latest Press Release:

https://exactitudeconsultancy.com/post/smart-factory-market-growth/

Any special requirements about this report, please let us know and we can provide custom report.

Regional Analysis:

The regional assessment of the Smart Factory Market covers regional segmentation, which spotlight on current and future demand for the market. The report focuses on the demand for individual application segments across all the prominent regions. This section of this report also evaluates the market share in each country and sub-region as well as profit opportunities. The report mentions the growth rate of each region, country, and sub-region during the estimated period.

The Key Audiences for Market Report:

-        Research Institutes & Consulting Firms

-        Industry Leaders & Companies planning to enter the Smart Factory Market

-        Universities and Student

-        Service Providers, Product Providers, Solution Providers, and other players in the Smart Factory Market

-        Government Bodies and Associated Private Firms

-        Individuals interested to learn about the Smart Factory market

About us

Exactitude Consultancy is a market research and consulting services firm that helps clients address their most pressing strategic and business challenges. Our market research helps clients address critical business challenges and also helps make optimized business decisions with our fact-based research insights, market intelligence, and accurate data.

Connect us at:

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PHONE NUMBER +1 (704) 266-3234

EMAIL ADDRESS: sales@exactitudeconsultancy.com

[marryp]

Stainless Steel Sink Market Insights Business Opportunities, Current Trends And Restraints Forecast 2028

Stats and Research in its recent publication, provides thorough analysis of the global Stainless Steel Sink Market, wherein, historical and current trends have been assessed to determine the future prospects of the Stainless Steel Sink market. The study brings to fore credible insights on multiple factors of the Stainless Steel Sink market, which can arm vendors with vital information to take critical decisions with clarity and confidence. The report includes key indicator assessment to unfold the growth behaviour of the Stainless Steel Sink market for the period between 2021 and 2027. SNR analyses a range of drivers, restraints, trends, opportunities, and challenges in the Stainless Steel Sink market, and offers forecast statistics in terms of value (US$ million/billion) and volume (thousand units). The Stainless Steel Sink market report covers a detailed taxonomy along with a comprehensive analysis of the competitive landscape. The study profiles a number of trending companies as well as new entrants in the Stainless Steel Sink markets, wherein, the product portfolios, and innovations, and business development strategies of these market players have been provided. Impact Analysis of Market: The population around the globe had restricted themselves going out of their home and edge towards confining themselves to their homes which is impacting all the market negatively or positively. According to the current market situation, the report further assesses the present and future effects of the COVID-19 pandemic on the overall market, giving more reliable and authentic projections. The spread of coronavirus has crippled the entire world. Our latest research, perspectives, and insights on the management issues that matter most to the companies and organization about the market, which is leading through the COVID-19 crisis to managing risk and digitizing operations to deliver trusted information and experiences to the decision makers. Get a Free Sample Copy of the Report @:www.statsandresearch.com/request-sample/14224-global-stainless-steel-sink-market Key players operating in the global Stainless Steel Sink market are: Franke (CH), Elkay (US), Moen (US), Kohler (US), Reginox (NL), Teka Group (DE), Blanco (DE), Tasman Sinkware (AU), Blue Star (IN), ARC-international (IN), Just Manufacturing (US), Leisure Sinks (UK), Vigo Industries (US), Pabar (ZA), Acrysil Limited (IN), Artisan (US), Advance Tabco (US), Da long (TW), Conlin (TW), Oulin (CN), Dongyuan (CN), Primy (CN), Sonata (CN), Mor-ning (CN), Codesn (CN), Ouert (CN), ,, others. Stainless Steel Sink Market, By Product Type:Single bowl, Double-bowl, Three bowls, , Stainless Steel Sink Market, By Application:Residential kitchens, Commercial or institutional applications, , Investigator Observers Strong Growth in Specific Regions: -Europe Market (Germany, UK, France, Russia, Italy) -Center East and Africa Market (Saudi Arabia, UAE, Egypt, Nigeria, South Africa) -South America Market (Brazil, Argentina, Colombia) -North America Market (United States, Canada, Mexico) -Asia Pacific Market (China, Japan, Korea, India, Southeast Asia). Click to Check Discount@: (Exclusive Offer Flat 20% discount):-www.statsandresearch.com/check-discount/14224-global-stainless-steel-sink-market Market Forecast Related Considerations - Impact on each country and various region - Change in supply chain related operation - Positive and negative scenarios of the market during the ongoing pandemic - Impact on various sectors facing the greatest drawbacks are manufacturing, transportation and logistics, Healthcare, Chemical and retail and consumer goods. Objectives of the Study - To define, describe, and forecast the global Stainless Steel Sink market by products and services and region - To analyze micro markets with respect to individual growth trends, prospects, and contributions to the overall Stainless Steel Sink market - To analyze market opportunities for stakeholders and provide details of the competitive landscape for key players - To forecast the size of the Stainless Steel Sink market in five major regions along with their respective key countries (Europe, North America, Asia-Pacific, Latin America, and Middle East and Africa) - To profile the key players in the global Stainless Steel Sink market and comprehensively analyze their core competencies and market shares - To track and analyze competitive developments such as product launches, expansions, and Research and Development activities of the leading players in the Stainless Steel Sink market. Buy this Report @:www.statsandresearch.com/placeorder?report=14224-global-stainless-steel-sink-market&type=su About Us Stats and Research is a global market research and consulting service provider specialized in offering wide range of business solutions to their clients including market research reports, primary and secondary research, demand forecasting services, focus group analysis and other services. We understand that how data is important in today's competitive environment and thus, we have collaborated with industry's leading research providers who works continuously to meet the ever-growing demand for market research reports throughout the year. Contact: Stats and Research Mangalam Chamber, Office No-16, Paud Road Sankalp Society, Kothrud, Pune, Maharashtra 411038 Phone: +1 650-646-3808 Email: sales@statsandresearch.com Web: https://www.statsandresearch.com/ Email: sales@statsandresearch.com Web: https://www.statsandresearch.com/ Follow Us on: LinkedIN| Twitter| Facebook | Instagram

[butterflyinthewell]

So I’m working on a fanfic about Hannibal being diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s and Will struggling to come to terms with that.

I’m realizing it’s really a commentary on how society treats people whose brains work different.

There is no point where Will loves Hannibal any less and he never sees him as less than human, but doctors and other people do.

Most of the story is from Will’s POV, (I start each chapter in Hannibal’s memory palace as it’s crumbling) but I have Hannibal’s perspective running in my own mind too when we watch him through Will. So when Alzheimer’s causes Hannibal to act weird, I know exactly what he thinks he’s doing or where he thinks he is in place / time, and his behavior makes perfect sense according to where / when he thinks he is. Will and the readers won’t have that side of it, so to them it seems Hannibal doesn’t know how to behave. He has his lucid moments where he’s acutely aware that “I have Alzheimer’s and my brain is failing me”, though they diminish as his brain deteriorates. But he really doesn’t know what he’s doing when he’s not lucid, though sometimes he can remember it later and tell Will what happened. Those moments are heartbreaking.

So as an example of visible behavior vs what I know and don’t tell you: Will sees Hannibal smashing a rolling pin against the kitchen counter, but Hannibal thinks he’s cleaning up to prepare for a dinner party the next night and he’s frantic because there’s a lot to do and not much time, and he can’t get the counter clean. Once Will figures out Hannibal is trying to clean, he trades the pin for a sponge and helps him “clean”. Hannibal forgets why he was so frantic once they’re done, so now he can go to bed and sleep instead of keeping Will up by banging on the counter for hours.

You can’t reason with a confused person with Alzheimer’s once they’re past a certain point. It’s easier to just step into their reality and guide them gently in the direction you hope they’ll go. (Will is very hit and miss at doing this initially, but will get good at it later!)

Most people would suggest take the rolling pin away, but that would get in the way of the need Hannibal is trying to meet and lead to a fight. From his side it looks like Will is preventing him from getting ready for esteemed guests. Will trading the pin for a sponge is meeting Hannibal where he is, calming the anxiety he’s feeling and gently nudging him where he actually should go (to bed). Hannibal is happy with that because his need was met.

There’s another scene in a grocery store where Will doesn’t pay attention to Hannibal’s signals that this isn’t working, and it leads to Hannibal causing a bit of a ruckus. The store is restocking and there’s boxes and chaos everywhere. Hannibal can’t handle that, so he starts taking things out of the cart and putting them on the shelf like he’s at the checkout counter because that’s what you do when you’re about to leave the store. But Will misses that signal and puts things back into the cart, and suddenly a very angry Hannibal flips the cart over and hollers that “this isn’t correct” because he can’t access the language to explain he’s afraid.

Will has to talk him down from a panic attack and help him out of the store. Later, Hannibal is able to explain to Will that disarray frightens him because it looks like his memory palace, and when that happens he can’t tell his inner world from the outer world and doesn’t know which one he’s “speaking” to. But small bits of disarray become something Will can use to calm Hannibal down by giving him messy things to organize. (Hannibal is obsessive about organizing stuff, it’s soothing for him.)

Their love language evolves too. From speaking in metaphors to just speaking, then they progress to actions and finally end on touch.

Will needs to realize it’s less about what Hannibal is losing and more about what’s still there.

Hannibal is going to lose who Will is, but he never loses the fact that he loves him. Some days, he will look at Will and fall in love with him over and over like the first time he saw him in Crawford’s office, because in those moments every time is the first.

And that is what Will needs to realize. Their love hasn’t been lost.

Btw, Hannibal doesn’t stop being dangerous till the final stages of Alzheimer’s. He’s about midway through it when he almost mauls the staff at a hospital because they’re being nasty to him when he’s confused! (They chemically restrain him with Haldol and are super shitty liars about it). That experience is actually what gets Will to see that people are going to treat Hannibal like he’s not really a person anymore. Let’s just say the doctor who ordered the Haldol isn’t gonna survive. It’s Hannibal...that means people get eaten! 😌

Also, the fanfic starts after they’ve been married for 10 years, so the year is 2030 at the start of the fic. I’m writing this pretending the story of Hannibal began sometime in late 2010, Will pulled them off the cliff in 2015, they got some aliases to disappear and moved around America dodging the FBI for another five years.

The pre-story post-fall timeline goes like this:

December 2019: Will and Hannibal have been on the run for a long while, but they stop in Hawaii to have a nice, tropical Christmas. Hannibal can’t remember the volcano’s name is Kilauea.

January 1: 2020: They get married on the beach. It’s sort of spur of the moment, but they took the time to buy tuxedos and rings. Their tuxes are white with silver accents. Hannibal has a silver vest and bow tie. Will has a silver bow tie and cummerbund. They say their vows at sunset by the water.

Late February 2020: Will and Hannibal leave Hawaii for Cuba just as Covid-19 is hitting. They’ve already bought a house, so they move in. Both test positive for covid. Will stays asymptotic and never gets even a tickle in his throat. Hannibal gets the whole deal without getting sick enough to end up in the hospital, but recovers. He has some long covid issues, like shortness of breath and fatigue.

2022: Hannibal survives the widow maker heart attack and it’s discovered he had the heart attack because covid damaged his heart. He gets quadruple bypass surgery and spends a lot of time in ICU recovering. As he gets better he realizes his memory isn’t what it should be. Doctors tell him his heart stopping from the heart attack and the bypass surgery can sometimes cause some memory loss. Hannibal starts relying on his phone and GPS more and more. Will begins to suspect something is wrong, but the doctors reassure him that it’s temporary, so he lets it go.

(Fanfic begins here.)

2030: Hannibal is making mistakes in cooking, cleanup, paying bills and just everyday stuff, but he doesn’t think it’s weird. He blames “kids” when questioned about why he put dishes away dirty or burned dinner. Will is noticing things aren’t right, so he begs Hannibal to see a doctor. Will thinks it’s something solvable, like encephalitis or some other organ. But no, Hannibal gets looked over from head to toe, inside and outside, sent to a neurologist and finishes with his diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer’s. (He’s 58 at the time of diagnosis, but the disease process started when he was 48 and it was missed for so long because of the heart attack.)

As soon as he’s diagnosed, Hannibal starts making plans for Will to be his medical power of attorney, in control of their bank account, in charge of his advanced directives, etc.. He sort of drops it all onto poor Will, who barely gets time to absorb the news before he’s signing stuff. Will is in a tailspin of emotions.

It’ll take Alzheimer’s 20 years to chew through Hannibal’s brain. It’s not always gonna be pretty or easy to watch. At the end it becomes clear Hannibal is waiting for something, and he passes as soon as those final needs are met. Hannibal always has to have control of something, right? Right!

I’m gonna throw all your feelings into a washing machine and spin them. It’s what I’m good at with fics like this.

Anyway...

I have very specific images of how Will and Hannibal look at the start of the fic. Will is still pretty af, but a lot less friendly looking, and Hannibal looks like a scruffy Norse dad.

The most beautiful part about writing this (for me, anyway) is watching how Will learns to understand Hannibal’s communications as his language abilities deteriorate. He will continue to see and hear him even when most other people won’t try to watch or listen. He learns to be less “stop that, it’s annoying” and more “what need isn’t being met and how can I meet it? How can I step into his world to be with him where he is?”

Finally, their wedding song is important to the story. This was their first dance song. It’s their song. Will sings it to Hannibal a few times in the fic, and if he plays it on his phone it can break through the Alzheimer’s fog and take Hannibal back to the bank safe in his memory palace where he keeps their wedding day. Yup, he keeps that memory in a safe and it’s the last thing to go. ❤️

[scripttorture]

What would be the safest way to have my character get kidnapped? At first I was going to have the antagonist plunge a syringe into his neck to knock him out, but I realized that it's not exactly realistic and is a lot more dangerous than they make it look in movies. Would choking my character out work? Or would it be more realistic to use a chloroform rag instead? The place the antagonist takes him isn't too far (definitely less than an hour) so he wouldn’t have to stay passed out for that long.

So as a chemist I don’t think chloroform is a good solution to this and it is a little outside of my wheelhouse. Luckily ScriptMedic wrote about this one a lot. You can find that information here.

 Honestly? I think the ‘safest’ way to do this is to get a large enough group of kidnappers that they can physically manhandle the character into the trunk of a car or a well ventilated box/cage of some kind. Knocking someone out is dangerous.

 But the flip side of that is that this is an inherently dangerous scenario however it’s carried out. I can see you know that and I understand that sometimes you need a character to be unconscious for a portion of the narrative.

 A choke hold can render someone unconscious but it typically doesn’t do that for very long and the chances of brain damage due to lack of oxygen are pretty high. Which I guess means it either knocks someone out for a very short period or an extremely long one. It’s dangerous to starve the brain and that’s what strangles do.

 Stabbing someone in the neck is likely to make them stop moving on a rather permanent basis.

 And chloroform- Well I’ve worked with it in unventilated spaces before and been exposed to quite a bit of it in my time (don’t do that ducks). It doesn’t really knock people out quickly compared to modern drugs. It was also abandoned because it has a tendency to well uh- suddenly and ‘randomly’ kill people. It’s a toxic substance and while I don’t know why it does this it can suddenly stop the heart.

 Which is why it fell out of favour in the surgical context, the complications are an order of magnitude higher than with ether. (Which is also dangerous and very very flammable- As in causes spontaneous fires when mixed with air in a confined space. Old fashioned chemistry labs were fun.)

 Chloroform is also really volatile which means that a soaked rag quickly dries and an open container quickly evaporates. Oh and it causes cancer

 Both choking and chloroform are potentially survivable with no long term side effects but neither are harmless or safe. And neither is particularly effective.

 Based on personal experience/exposure, ether is more likely to knock someone out quickly but it is also an easy recipe for your kidnapper setting themselves and their intended victim on fire.

 As Aunty Scripty says, threats are another possible method. I talk a lot about the fact those don’t always work but so long as you’re not suggesting they’re 100% effective I don’t see a problem in deciding they work in this situation.

 Modern sedatives are generally safer and more effective. Aunty’s favourite was ketamine. She has a whole tag on it.

 Personally? I go for a more low tech approach when I’m writing these sorts of scenes because it’s what I tend to see described in reality. Have a group of about 6-8 people following the character at a distance waiting for a moment when he’s alone. Then (without hitting his head) physically overpower him and bundle him into a waiting vehicle.

 If you need the character to be unconscious for anything more then a few minutes I’d say look through Aunty’s posts on ketamine. For a few minutes a choke hold or chloroform might work, just- please don’t portray them as safe.

 But I’d also ask yourself whether there’s a reason beyond convention for the character to be unconscious. If there is, then good go with that. If not remember there are other ways you can achieve the same goal.

 I hope that helps :)

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