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#Anesthetic depression
l-cereta · 6 months
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How to explain the kind of loneliness I’ve felt in touch with this weekend: I don’t want to have to ask permission to hug someone, I want to hold and be held.
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ibtisams · 2 months
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Children make up half of the population of Gaza and nearly a million of them are currently displaced. They are forced to take shelter in unsafe buildings and makeshift camps. It is winter in Gaza, so the temperatures are getting colder and it is harder and harder to find warmth and the resources necessary to keep warm. Not even hospitals and schools are safe from bombing. The chicken are not safe from being taken hostage. They do not get enough food or water on a daily basis. The children of Gaza are by definition starving. Over 80% of Palestinian children are suffering from depression. Over 10,000 children have lost limbs in 3 months. They are going through extreme medical procedures without any painkiller or anesthetic. The watch their parents and family die in front of them and then are forced to continue in alone to try to ensure their own safety. And despite the horror that they have to go through on a daily basis, they still are finding joy and hope. They are stronger than every single one of us and if you are able to look at all the images and videos and stories that come out on an hourly basis of what these children are going through and are still not able to take it seriously you are treating them no better than Israel is.
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starfirewildheart · 1 month
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Chapter 17
Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.
Pairing: Sy / OFC
Word count: 2,512
Rating: no one under 17. I'm not responsible for what you read. Kindly police yourself.
Chapter 17
August glanced over his shoulder into the back seat. Three weeks and two surgeries later the hospital finally agreed to let Debbie go home. She still had a long road ahead and it still didn't guarantee a full recovery and her anxiety was through the roof at times and at other times was so depressed she was nearly catatonic and a few normal days scattered in between. She was refusing to eat and in general sulking like a brat. Sy hoped getting her home would help.
Mike had been released after a week and a half. Walt had taken custody of him and Napoleon and Will were staying with them as security until everyone was jailed, including the corrupt cops. He was recovering physically but emotionally he was distant and shutting them out.
Geralt turned onto the long, tree lined drive admiring the land and imagining what it looked like in summer. He loved the country and a working ranch brought a warm feeling to his heart. He drove past the barns where a few work trucks sat along with ranch hands tending horses noting a beautiful chestnut mare before turning his attention back to the drive. Finally they pulled up in front of the large ranch style home and parked. Everyone got out, Sy helping Deb out and lifting her into his arms bridal style while Geralt and August got everyone's bags.
Deb took a deep breath of the fresh air ecstatic to smell anything besides anesthetic and medicinal scents that she'd been trapped in for weeks. 
“Where's Aika?” Deb asked, seeking out their furry friend. 
“She's with my sister and the kids. They are bringing her home tomorrow. “ He gently bounced her in his arms. “Where would ya like to get comfy sugar?” Sy asked as they all walked in. All the Christmas stuff was still up even though it was after Christmas now because they hadn't got to celebrate yet.
“Bath.”
 “Baby,” he started but was cut off. 
“Bath,” firmer.
“You want to wash off again?” He could see wanting to smell like their soap and not hospital bath in a bag shit so he started toward their ensuite bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bed with her bad leg up and started gathering clean clothes for her.
“No Sy, a real bath.”
He turned to her. “You know you can't get your leg wet Deb. Your stitches could come apart or you could get an infection.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.  “I don't care. I've not been in a bath or even a shower in three weeks!” When he arched his brow at her and crossed his arms over his chest she sighed and stood shakily on her good leg. “I'll do it myself!”
“Sit down!” He yelled and stepped forward. She sat down and blinked up at him with wide eyes. He hated yelling at her after all she'd been through but he refused to let her act out like that. “Little girl, you will not hurt yourself or cause any further injury just because you want to get your way.” He gripped her chin in his big hand and forced her to hold eye contact. “I'm gonna try to get you into the bathtub but if it doesn't work I will give you a sponge bath and you won't fight me on it. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” She agrees . “I'm sorry I yelled. I just feel so dirty and I haven't… I know I've been washed but I just
.. I still feel their hands on me and i…I just want to wash it all away.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. 
Fifteen minutes later she was perched on the vanity in nothing but a shirt and bulky leg brace that went from her upper thigh to her ankle. 
Sy was filling the tub with water when something hit him in the back of the head. “Woman,” he turned to face her, suddenly realizing it was her shirt she'd thrown and she was now sitting on the vanity completely naked. “Fuck,” he rasped all blood flow in his body going straight to his dick. 
“I hope so,” She grinned,  crooking her finger and beckoning him to her. When he was close enough she fisted his shirt and pressed their mouths together in a heated kiss. Sy pressed against her, hooking her good leg over his hip and she felt him pulsing against her through his cargo pants. Tears brimmed in her eyes.
“Are you hurting?” He asked as he wiped a tear away with his thumb.
She shook her head , eyes locked with his while she tried to get her emotions under control enough to speak. Swallowing past the huge lump in her throat she pressed her hand to his bulge rubbing it and relishing in his sharp intake of air. “You still want me.”
“What? Of course I want you Deb. You're my life.” He didn't understand how that could even be a question but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Debbie?”
“I just,” She didn't know how to express how she felt. Like she couldn't form the words much less say them. “I…”
“Talk to me darlin’, please.”
“Sy, the water,” She pointed to the nearly overflowing tub.
“Fuck!” he ran over and shut the water off just before it spilled over the edge of the tub. He laughed but drained enough of the water that she could get in without it pouring on the floor then went back to her. Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Please talk to me. Don't shut me out Deb. I know you remember the hell we both went through when I tried to hide my thoughts from you. I was lost in my own hell and putting you through it too. We promised to tell each other everything after that, remember?”
She knew exactly what he was talking about. When he was recovering from his POW time he felt like he was too much, not worth the work, or the love she had for him and he tried everything he could to make her leave him but she refused. It nearly broke them both. “i..I'm not the one for you. Not your soul mate anyway. You're settling for me because I'm safe and comfortable.”
Sy felt like someone punched a fist into his chest and was crushing his heart. “You're my world Debbie, my heart, my everything. I'm sorry if I haven't shown you what you mean to me. Please, give me a chance to….”
“Austin, no! It's not that at all. You treat me like a queen and I know that you love me!” She hugged him tight. “This isn't about anything you've done or not done. It's about me. It's about me not being enough. I mean family is everything to you and your mom hates me. I turned your dream ranch into an animal rescue because I needed to feel like I was doing something helpful. I just latched on to you and didn't even notice that you weren't settling down or or ,” he head was pounding.
“That I haven't given you a ring so you couldn't possibly be what makes me happy? Isn't that what Lindy told you that night at the restaurant?” When he watched her he'd dip down because she couldn't look at him he gritted his teeth. “I haven't given you the ring yet because I wanted to be sure I could be the man you deserve,  that I could overcome the PTSD enough to give you a life, sugar. It has everything to do with you but not how you're thinking. I was so afraid of not being good enough I didn't show you how much I can't live without you.”
She shook her head, “No. It's not your..”
“We both said that but clearly there is a problem, sugar because you are doubting us.”
“Doubting me,” She explained quietly.
Realization washed over him and it all became crystal clear. She'd been his rock for so long he'd forgotten how she was when they first met. The chip she had on her shoulder because she felt like she had to prove she was good enough, that she could be the best at everything. He took it as a woman having to prove herself in a man's military at first but the more he was around her he realized that she was afraid to let anyone close, trusted no one to even have her six. She lived like she herself was the only one in the world she could trust or depend on. It led to a lot of being reprimanded, write ups, push ups, pull ups, and finally a talking to that finally made her see thongs from Sy's point of view about having to trust her team or they were all in danger. That was when he really started trying to get to know her in earnest, when he eventually learned about her abuse and abandonment. She'd come so far and he'd been through so much that he didn't realize she needed reassurance he wasn't giving her. He was a fucking moron. 
She gasped when Sy grabbed her face and kissed her and didn't stop until her tense muscles finally relaxed against him and she was breathless. She didn't even register him removing the leg brace until he was lowering her into the hot water, careful to keep her bad leg resting on the side of the tub. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back. Sy chuckled, “Feel good?”
“So good!” 
They both jumped at the knock on the bathroom door. Sy stood and went to see who it was.
“Your sister is here,” Geralt told him. “She needs to talk to you.”
“I'll be right there,” he sighed. He went back to Deb. “You stay put. If you aren't in the same position you are now when I get back I'm going to spank you until you can't sit and when that ass starts to cool down and feel better then I'm going to do it all over again and again until I feel like you learned your lesson and if I get tired I'll let Gearlt and August takeover.”
She fully intended to protest but what came out of her was more of a strangled whimper. He cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.  “I'll be good, I promise.”
“I know you will, sugar.” 
Sy went to speak to his sister and Debbie soaked in her hot bath. She sat still for a bit but really wanted to wash. Chewing her lip she pondered if grabbing the soap would be against the rules. Stretching her arm out she reached the soap without moving her butt at all and took it as a victory. Lathering up her bath puff she started washing herself. Once she felt squeaky clean she grabbed her razor and started shaving … everywhere. After three weeks she resembled a sasquatch except the leg and arm (shoulder) they'd done surgery on. When that was done she settled for a few minutes but quickly got bored, she was all alone after all. “Oooo jets!” Pressing the button the jacuzzi jets bubbled to life and massaged her sore muscles only with her bad leg up at an awkward angle it exposed her to the full force of the jets causing her to jerk and gasp. The pain that shot though her leg was almost instantly replaced with need as she used her finger to further expose her clit to the jet. Using her other hand she slipped two fingers into her slit working them hard and fast chasing the pleasure she didn't realize she needed so badly. Turning her body a little toward the side of the tub the jet hit the perfect spot and even though she couldn't reach the spot inside due to her awkward positioning the jet was doing the trick. Her hips slowly started to flutter as she threw her head back and whimpered through her release moving her hand away from exposing her clit as the pulse of the jet became uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed Sy come back in or even approach until she felt his fingers pushing into her still quivering hole. “Fuck!” She squealed at the stretch and shock of it.
He lifted her ass up out of the water enough to latch his mouth onto her clit and switch between sucking and licking until he'd made her cum two more times, the last time screaming out his name with a series of loud moans.
Sy got her out of the tub and carried her straight to the bed. It was tall enough that he could just bend her over the edge, carefully resting her bad leg out to the side up on the bed leaving her open to his hungry gaze. “You ready for me sugar? Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”
“Please,” he begged, trying to rub her ass back against him. She gasped when his big hand smacked against her ass leaving a burning ache in its wake.
“Be still, your brace is still off. You're in trouble as it is, little girl.” He grinned when she went still, knowing she was thinking about the spanking he told her she'd get if she moved earlier. He took the distraction to push himself in up to the hilt causing them both to moan at the sensation. “So fuckin tight for me, like your made to fit my dick.”
All she could do was moan incoherently as he railed her from behind, each thrust causing her to gasp as he pounded against her cervix. It was painful but the pull out and push in up to that point was bliss. She was losing the battle of control over her body and clamped down on him as tight as she could, wanting to give him some of the pleasure he'd Given her.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled as she squeezed him so tight he thought his brain was coming out of his cock. Reaching under her he started rubbing her clit. “Cum for me. I want to feel you come apart when I fill you full of cum.” A few more circles to her bundle of nerves and she was rutting between his cock and fingers.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” She cried as she exploded around him and he emptied inside of her, the wet squelching sound of their combined releases echoing in the room as he collapsed breathlessly beside her.
Tag List
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@enchantedbytomandhenry
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@mollymal
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howlingday · 4 months
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Okay, how about another funny/sad one-shot? (Blame VOL. 9 for my muse swings)
One where Jaune’s semblance isn’t about healing/amping people with aura, but that he can only numb and take away their pain?
Of course it starts off all silly with Nora “pimping” Jaune out as a walking Icy-Hot Patch and raking in cash, but then things slowly get serious.
Students haggling/bribing Jaune for a quick & easy fix to deal with their depression, despite how uncomfortable it makes him. Professional hunters looking for Jaune after their missions go wrong because he can keep their friends stabilized.
And worst of all...the children’s hospitals.
Because Jaune KNOWS why the staff – why so many parents – NEED him there…
And so he does.
Because children, especially DYING children, shouldn’t have to suffer if Jaune can help it…
And when things get too hard, too REAL, for Jaune to continue?
Teams JNPR & RWBY are waiting right there willing to pick up the pieces that Jaune’s too weak to carry.
FEELS SO NUMB
"Jaune's home~!"
Jaune trudged into his room after a long day at his part-time job. Nora excitedly skipped next to him as he put his backpack down. She smiled at him. He couldn't muster the strength to smile back. He made his way into the bathroom, not even saying hello to his team.
"So... how much money do you think he made?"
"Nora." Ren chided.
"What? I'm just curious how my plan turned out."
"You mean how you were selling Jaune off as a local anesthetic to the highest bidder?" Pyrrha said, glaring from her desk.
"Hey, it's not my fault his semblance is literally a painkiller!" She put a finger to her chin. "Kinda surprised we didn't notice sooner, since he was always getting back up from Cardin's beating after he unlocked it."
"Well, I'm more surprised how you found him work outside the school." Ren said. "And with the approval of Professor Ozpin too."
"Well, I'm a bit of a businesswoman, Renny," she winked, "you knew that~!"
A knock came at the door. Ren opened it to find Ruby standing with a scowl on her face. "Is Jaune here?"
"He's in the bathroom." Ren answered. "Is there something we can help you with?"
"Yang and Weiss are fighting, and we were hoping he could-"
"It doesn't work that way, and you know it." Pyrrha said in a near snarl.
"S-Sorry, but Blake and I don't know what to do!" She rubbed her arm. "It's like ever since Jaune's been... uh, helping out, everyone at school has been acting really, really angry. It's like unless Jaune uses his semblance, people can't act normally around here anymore."
"Well, he's busy cleaning off from his super important job today!" Nora said with a beaming smile. "And they paid a mint, too!"
"Really?" Ruby asked. "Was it Uncle Qrow again?"
"Nah, he already came by yesterday. Today he was working at Vale General!"
"The hospital?" Ren asked. "What would they need him for?"
"Something about feet or another." Nora shrugged. "Like, something about pedal tricks."
The room was dead silent, save for the sounds of the shower in the bathroom. There was a soft thumping inside, too, but that subsided to silence once more after a few seconds. Suddenly, the room seemed to bend and wave and creak. Pyrrha stood from her desk.
"Pediatrics?" She asked.
"Yeah, that's it!" Nora shouted. "It was kinda weird sounding, but after they said it was for kids and cars in jeans, I kinda just went with it. Must have been mental hospital, righ-"
"JAUNE! JAUNE, OPEN THIS DOOR!" Pyrrha screamed as she smashed her fist against the door, Ruby running up to join her. The smaller of the two tried jiggle the door handle to open.
"Nora..." Ren gulped. "Do you know what carcinogenesis means?"
"...No, but that sounds like what the hospital people wanted Jaune for."
Ren took a deep breath, then told her. Pyrrha and Ruby were shoved out of the way, and the bathroom door came crashing down. Jaune was curled under the running water, softly sobbing. On the shower wall, a red smear stained the tiles. They pulled him out of the water, wrapping him in a towel, but he didn't respond to any of it. He just continued to sob and rub himself in a sort of self-hug.
"They'll be okay. They'll be okay. They'll be okay."
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reality-detective · 3 months
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The Los Angeles Medical Examiner listed Friends star Matthew Perry's cause of death as ketamine in an autopsy...
Ketamine - Medication
Ketamine is a dissociative anesthetic used medically for induction and maintenance of anesthesia. It is also used as a treatment for depression, a pain management tool, and as a recreational drug.
I call bullshit on that 👆 this is what they have done with all the deaths in the entertainment industry, blame it on drugs. They had drug issues 🤔
Think about that? 🤔
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macgyvermedical · 5 months
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trick or treat! (also I have a question- what situations would warrant ether to be used and not any other anesthetics? OwO)
Oooh really good question-
Ether is actually a really, really common anesthetic- especially in the developing world. There are a few reasons it's a good choice in a lower-resource environment:
1- it's the only drug you need for anesthesia
"Modern" anesthesia is a mix of multiple drugs, usually one to render the person unconscious, at least one to kill pain, and one to paralyze the person.
Ether does all three of those things. While you may want a pre-medication like diphenhydramine or midazolam and medications to manage side effects, you really only need the one.
2- It's cheap
Anesthetics are expensive. Ether is like $5 for the amount needed for a short surgery. And that's the medical stuff. There's industrial-grade ether that works just as well for a fraction of that.
3- It's easy to administer
Again, "modern" anesthesia requires a large, expensive machine to mix the gases for anesthesia. Ether requires a wire mesh mask and some gauze. The anesthetist just has to drip the ether onto the mask at a particular rate in order to cause anesthesia.
4- It doesn't cause respiratory depression
"Modern" anesthesia modalities often involve a strong opioid and a paralytic, which means the person must be intubated and placed on a ventilator for the duration of the procedure because they can't breathe on their own.
With ether, the patient continues breathing pretty much normally throughout the whole procedure, and does not require any artificial respiration.
So why don't developed countries routinely use ether? Well, as anesthetics go, it's unpleasant and fairly inconvenient. It smells bad, takes about 20 minutes to start working (an eternity in knocking-people-out time), is extremely flammable, and causes severe nausea and vomiting after waking up.
So generally when you have the option of something more expensive but also more convenient and pleasant, and you can afford it, you go with that. If you don't, but you have time and anti-emetics, ether's a great choice.
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glass-noodle · 6 months
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I must know what they do to Connor to make him depressed afterwards :(
You will pay for making me cry so much everytime I reread your comics
The answer is probably what DIDN’T they do 😅 Connor’s the first known merman in captivity and Kamski and Co. aren’t held back by scientific or medical ethics. You can fill in the blanks :’)
I will say that Kamski’s favourite experiments are those involving Connor’s rapid healing abilities. He’s had more than a few incisions/excisions, some of which have been less…anesthetized. Just to measure stress response and its relation to healing rate, of course.
He hides his spiraling as best he can, but he’s been cracked open and violated so many times, in so many ways, that on his bad days he often feels like nothing more than an empty shell. That he has nothing left to offer; to himself, to his family, to Hank.
He hates Kamski, but he did this to himself, after all. If only he had been faster, stronger…more resilient.
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kdramaxoxo · 11 months
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wait what happened to Yoo ah in???
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The story behind Yoo Ah-In's drug use is so sad.
Yoo Ah-In originally tested positive for marijuana which is illegal in Korea, but then tested positive for Propafol, a controlled drug that given to him illegally by different doctors over a two year period.
After that, he also tested positive for cocaine and ketamine, a drug that might have been illegally prescribed to him. Finally he might have also taken zolpidem in "excessive amounts." (not my words).
After this went down (really fast actually), all of his upcoming projects got cancelled.
The thing is, he has a sleeping disorder he was being treated for and apparently started taking other drugs on top of that. If you've ever had a sleep disorder, you would understand the toll that takes on mental health. I also remember he has (had?) a painful bone tumor so I get the impression he's been through a lot.
Look at his drug choices:
Zolpidem can be used used for insomnia
Propofol is an anesthetic used for sedation
Ketamine is also an anesthetic but can help with depression and anxiety.
Marijuana also can help with anxiety and sleep
These are drug are ones someone who wants to be unconscious would pick. This screams mental health issues to me and someone who legit needs therapy and help, not arrest warrants.
For me personally, I'm just devastated because he is SUCH a talent and his career is pretty much over. I don't think drugs should be illegal (any of them), but on top of that we should treat drug addiction as a mental health concern, not a criminal issue.
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pigeonwhumps · 5 months
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Mouth stitched shut
Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist
Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @whumpinggrounds @ailesswhumptober
AI-less Whumptober alt 21: mouth stitched shut
Aaron brings in his friend Joseph to help tend to Phoenix after they're tortured.
Joseph belongs to @i-eat-worlds. This was originally part of an rp we were doing, I wrote this up and Worlds edited it. Enjoy!
1.1k
CWs: immortal whumpee, hero whump, traumatised whumpee, medical whump, painful medical care, past medical whump, flashbacks, mouth stitched shut, caretaker new whumper, no anesthetic
"You sort their mouth, I'll do the words, we treat the rest together, and you do your very best not to show them how angry you are. Got it?"
"Got it." Joseph's dealt with traumatised patients before, it’s practically his specialty, and it's part of the reason Aaron asked for him specifically. This must be bad, if Aaron thinks that worth mentioning.
Aaron nods and pushes open the doors.
Phoenix is lying on the bed, whimpering slightly as the nurse inserts an IV port. Apparently, they can't pack the wounds and general anesthetic doesn't work on them. It's one of the curses of their version of immortality. It seems particularly cruel right now.
They're both scrubbed up, and Aaron leans over Phoenix as the nurse finishes positioning the line and exits. Joseph takes over the job of preparing the lidocaine to inject.
"Phoenix, can you breathe for me? That's it. This is Joseph, he's going to help me with some of your injuries. That okay?" Phoenix nods, and Aaron gestures for Joseph to take over.
"I'm going to give you tramadol and lidocaine through your IV before we start. Should hopefully last longer with both. Let me know when it starts to hurt again."
Phoenix freezes. Their wide, glazed eyes stare up at Joseph like he's their worst nightmare.
"Phoenix? You there?"
_
"I'm going to give you some... IV... hurts."
Phoenix isn't completely there, they know that. But they can see him.
"You know how much general anaesthetic hurts. Don't misbehave and I won't need to use it."
No... no, that's not him. That's Aaron's friend. And he has... scissors? Medical scissors. Shiny medical scissors held in a clean, white gloved hand.
"I'm going to cut the stitches in your face, and Aaron's going to work on the carvings on your torso. Hold as still as you can." He leans over Phoenix's face. They flinch as something touches their side, and Joseph pauses before pushing the scissors into their mouth, the metal depressing the first stitch, leaning against their lips, almost pressing them open.
"Bite down on this, it'll help. Or don't. Just make sure your screaming doesn't distract me."
Phoenix bites the folded strip of leather that's shoved into their mouth, vision blurring as their eyes fill with tears.
Joseph cuts through Phoenix's stitches as they grip the table tightly, one torturous thread at a time. They watch him closely, afraid, aware, distantly, that Aaron's at the other end of the table, that Joseph could do whatever he wanted and Aaron wouldn't know, if they even believed them or cared anyway.
It doesn't hurt as he tugs out the loose threads far too gently, small pieces coming out of their lips, but it starts to sting as he dabs at them. They manage to keep their face free of movement and expression until a needle jabs into their side, and then they yelp, jerking, knocking their head on the hard metal table.
"That didn't last long. Aaron."
Joseph disappears from view and Aaron appears, resting something softer under Phoenix's head.
"It's okay. I'm sorry, Joseph is giving you... take my hand while it kicks in."
Phoenix sees the gentle calmness on Aaron's face but it morphs into a harsh frown when the IV bag comes out.
Their heart speeds up and they turn their head to one side, then freeze. "Please, please no, I can be still, please don't use that, sir, I–"
"What do you think we're going to do, Phoenix?"
"Why do you think I'm doing this? If you can't stay still, I'll have to keep you still."
"Please. Please, I'm sorry, sir."
"It's just painkillers. Just lidocaine this time. Phoenix, easy, I can't– it should be kicking in any moment now. Breathe with me. In and out, nice and slow."
Phoenix does. To do anything but obey would make things worse.
As the pain recedes, their vision swims and they see Aaron and Joseph above them. Not... not him.
"Sorry, sirs," they whimper, "sorry."
"It's fine. I'll let Joseph take over with your face, and let's go again."
Joseph nods. "I'm just going to finish cleaning up your lips and then we can move onto your limbs. Hold still."
Phoenix manages it this time, locking themself up as Joseph dabs at their lips, then moves quickly onto their arm. He makes fast work of cleaning and treating their various injuries, worst first probably, and Phoenix is just about ready to let themself trust those treating them when something wraps around their wrist.
They almost scream.
"Please, don't restrain me, sir, I'll be good, just don't restrain me, please!"
"Stop being such a baby. If you didn't want to be restrained you shouldn't have squirmed so much." When Phoenix can't stop themself he slams their head into the table, leaving them dazed enough to be strapped down, leather tight enough to mark. "Calm the fuck down. I'm doing you a favour removing these pieces as fast as I am, the least you could do is co-operate."
"Easy, Phoenix." But Phoenix can't help bucking, despite the looming consequences, writhing and thrashing because they can't be that helpless again. "It's only bandages. Breathe, remember where you are. Try and relax. You're with Aaron and Joseph, you're safe."
It's hard, so hard, there's nothing they can do, but then something ice-cold lands on their forehead and they gasp.
"Come on, come back, there we are. Stay with me now."
"Please don't kill me. I know I'm, um, inconvenient sirs and it would be quicker if I were dead but please don't kill me, sir."
"We won't kill you, Phoenix," soothes Joseph, "You're not going to die, it's okay. Breathe."
"You're not going to die, don't be ridiculous. But if you keep struggling I'll just wait until you're dead temporarily and take the pieces out then. Some every time until it's done. It's your choice."
Phoenix whimpers, barely able to concentrate on words they really should be listening to.
"We'll take it in turns. One of us stays with you. Joseph, you treat their injuries first?"
"Sure."
Aaron stays with Phoenix, taking their hand. "Stay with me. Focus on me, kid, you're going to be fine."
_
As Joseph takes his turn helping Phoenix stay present, showing them his worst best cat memes to distract them, he realises it's no wonder Aaron warned him to hide his anger. There's no history of Phoenix ever working for a villain, or being held in longer-term captivity by one, which means this was more likely caused by a hero. Joseph knows there are assholes who become heroes, he's met a few, but for someone to do this...
Whoever caused it, he's going to kill them.
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rivetgoth · 2 months
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i just got top surgery, if you can could you tell me about the whole process for you? i dont have any specific questions i need answered
Omg congrats on your surgery first of all!!
And sure!
I’m not sure which specific part of the process you’re curious about but I’m gonna focus on aftercare and recovery since I assume that would be your main focus right now.
I got double incision with free nipple grafts and drains. The moment I saw my chest for the first time I just remember feeling this sort of contentment and relief. Like “Oh, this is how it’s supposed to look.” The hospital I went to required patients to stay overnight so my first ~24 hours post-op were in a hospital bed hooked up to IV. I’m extremely grateful for this because by coincidence (the overnight stay was already planned in advance) I had a bad reaction to the anesthetic. I was entirely safe, nothing scary, but it causes me severe nausea and exhaustion and I didn’t feel loopy at all, just absolutely awful. I didn’t really sleep at all that night, I lay there falling asleep in weird short intervals, waking up, needing to pee, then stumbling back to bed. At one point I walked into the bathroom and it was covered in blood. I was so drugged out of my mind that I couldn’t really process it, it felt like I was dreaming.
After that the healing process was pretty easy though. I was prescribed antibiotics for like 10 days, oxycodone for half that time, and some really strong ibuprofen. They also gave me one of those anti-nausea patches on the back of my neck. I struggled with a bunch of nausea for the first day after getting out of the hospital but never threw up. I was pretty functional right away. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this but within the first 48 hours out of the hospital I was walking a few blocks to the closest grocery store and carrying groceries back. Felt like shit but survivable. About 4 days post-op I took a train 4-5 hours north to see family on my own then was in a car for another 4ish hours back home a couple days later. Just took a shitload of oxycodone and ibuprofen and played video games and listened to music the whole way, totally survivable. So it really wasn’t all that bad.
About 3 weeks post-op I went back to school and work. At the time I was on a pretty walking-heavy campus with tons of hills. I applied for short term disability just in case I had trouble carrying my textbooks around or walking up hills or something but tbh I never needed to utilize it, it was fine. I was super tired but fully functional. So overall I’d say recovery was pretty easy. I had limited mobility for a couple of weeks, it hurt to raise my arms above my head, needed help reaching some things and showering was a bit tricky, but over time that went away.
I’d say without a doubt the worst parts of recovery were:
Not being able to shower for the first week. This absolutely fucking sucked lol. I was so greasy it’s not even funny. I would try to rinse my hair with Angel’s help over the tub and do like sponge baths basically but it was NOT the same. Definitely recommend dry shampoo (we didn’t think of it until after). 
Sleeping on my back. I am NOT naturally a back sleeper. I really struggled with this. Having a dick piercing now I’ve gotten better at it lol but at the time especially it was so incredibly difficult to sleep this way, I was already crazy uncomfortable from surgery and being greasy and tired and sore and then on top of that I could NOT get comfortable to fall asleep.
I had some weird emotional and hormonal responses to the surgery. My period returned in full force about two weeks after my surgery for the first and only time since it stopped on T. At that time I also experienced some pretty nasty post-op depression. I think it was a mixture of weird dysphoria (mostly a sort of existential frustration that I had to go through the procedure in the first place), hormonal imbalances (again, my period returning…), and just general emotional response to recovering from a surgery and frustration with the minutia of the recovery process. I just felt really, really low. Tired and tired of being tired. This passed over time, but it was not fun.
Pettier complaints: Nipple grafts suck to heal and look disgusting at first. Trust the process lol. Wearing the compression vest is kind of annoying. I was like, dude, I got this surgery so I don’t have to bind anymore! 😭 Anesthetic can (and did) cause constipation. I had to buy laxatives. None of this was unbearable but it definitely all added up and contributed to the post-op depression.
Stay hydrated, eat well, take probiotics, take vitamins and supplements, take vitamin C and zinc, a small amount of exercise/physical movement is good but don’t overdo it, get lots of rest, and listen to your surgeon’s advice. If you’re not sure, ask.
I think my biggest advice is to remember that our bodies are pretty primitive things—Injury is injury to them. You’re getting a surgery you wanted to better your life longterm, your body is purely focused on healing, and is responding to awareness of an injury. It’s hard to feel super excited about the surgery right away, you’ll be too deep in your body’s healing response to physical trauma. It’s exhausting at times and it can almost feel like your body is working against you. It’s NOT. I found undergoing top surgery (and transitioning in general) to be an amazing meditative process in aligning your brain to your body better, but that’s a process, a relationship you form through work the same as any other. You need to trust your body’s natural healing process.
Bodies are weird and healing is messy. I had weird inexplicable symptoms that I’d tell myself I’d contact my surgeon about if they persisted or worsened and they didn’t. I had UTI-like symptoms for a day that went away on their own. I had really uncomfortable weird restless leg syndrome for a night or two. One of my drains came detached from the tape holding it down and it had no negative effect. One of my nipples looked vaguely infected but my surgeon was unconcerned and it healed fine. None of this was serious, try not to worry if things seem a little odd, unless symptoms get progressively worse, show no signs of getting better, or are really, really obvious signs of infection/complication. Just listen to your body and take care of it. 
I felt comfortable going out shirtless after about… a year or so? It took about that much time for things to settle. For a few months it almost looked like I had excess skin sagging on the sides, this went away by the 12ish month mark. Nowadays I don’t do any body building but I try to do some push ups every day to keep my chest somewhat fit. 4 years in and sensation is still minimal, definitely doesn’t have the same sensitivity as the rest of my body, but it also continues to return every day! Literally to this day I notice new shooting nerve sensations growing deep in my chest now and again. A few months ago I had notable nipple sensation for the first time since the surgery. My scars are still fading, although my chest generally seems to pass for cis irl which is awesome.
I could go on and on about all the small details but I think I’ve talked your head off enough for now hahaha. I love my results and I’d do the whole process over again a thousand times if it meant having what I have now. Literally changed (and saved) my life.
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Text
Damage Control - 1x15 The Benders
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The hike back to town is long, and dawn is already breaking when they finally reach the Impala parked near the police station.
Sam notices that Dean doesn’t even debate riding shotgun this time. While they’ve both been knocked around pretty badly in the last 48 hours, Sam’s had some time to recover, and Dean’s clearly taken the brunt of the damage. His gait had been a little unsteady walking back, and dried blood is covering the entire right side of his face. He’s not using his left arm, now cradled protectively in his lap, and there’s a ragged hole in his shirt that flags an injury underneath.
“What is that?” Sam asks, reaching over to check. “Stab wound?”
Dean bats the intruding hand away. “Will you focus on driving?! It’s just a burn. Hot poker.”
Sam flinches in sympathy. “Ouch. Deep? Think you need a hospital?”
“No. No hospital. I’m still a wanted man, remember?” He peels the flap of his shirt back and squints underneath, grimacing. “No. Nurse Winchester will have to do.”
Sam frowns, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of treating a burn wound with nothing but tweezers and whiskey at his disposal. “What about your shoulder? It’s not dislocated is it?”
“No.” Dean tentatively rolls the injured limb and stops with a grunt. “Just bruised, I guess. Fucker slammed me into a door post.”
“Concussion?” Walking beside Dean, Sam had seen him gingerly touch the back of his head.
“Frying pan. No worries. I’ve got a thick skull. You?”
“Got over it.”
This is how they do it: brave banter after trauma, to cover up the hurt. It’s a tried-and-true method. A manly shorthand that keeps them functioning until they’re somewhere they don’t have to - in this case, another faceless motel Sam checks them into while Dean - looking too garish - waits in the car.
Once inside their room, painted in depressing shades of brown but at least clean and spacy, Dean disappears into the bathroom. Water splashes, Sam hears some muffled cursing, and when Dean reemerges, his face is clean and he’s holding a wad of toilet paper to the cut on his forehead. He’s shed his worker shirt, but he’s still wearing his t-shirt.
“Couldn’t get it off. Damn thing’s stuck to the wound.”
“I’ll help you. Sit down.” Sam points to one of the beds where he’s already laid out what they’ll need: tweezers, antiseptic, bandages. On the nightstand, next to a bowl with warm water, a whiskey bottle is waiting with its cap unscrewed.
“Medicate,” Sam says, tossing his seated brother a pill bottle.
Face brooding, Dean swallows a couple of Vicodin with the aid of Jack Daniels. Normally, Sam would lecture his brother on mixing alcohol with opiates, but they both know that, although the wound isn’t that big, this is going to hurt like hell and, without the benefit of a local anesthetic, booze and pills is all they have. While Dean works on his blood alcohol level, Sam searches the small kitchen counter and gets lucky: He finds a pair of scissors that he uses to cut Dean’s t-shirt off him, leaving only a small patch behind where the fabric has adhered to the wound. He soaks it with warm water, and Dean curses.
“Sonovabitch!”
“Sorry.”
Dean grunts and takes another swig from the bottle. They both know there’s much more swearing ahead.
The whiskey is a good quarter empty by the time Sam has managed to peel the cotton patch off Dean’s wound. The burn looks ugly - a mix of oozing blisters and charred, peeling flesh. It’s a partial thickness burn at least and will leave a nasty scar. There are still a few shreds of fabric embedded in the whole mess and, slightly nauseous, Sam reaches for the tweezers.
“Hold on,” he says warningly. “This’ll hurt like hell.”
He’s not wrong. In the next few minutes, Dean turns into a sweating, cussing mess, doing his best to hold still while Sam meticulously debrides his wound. At some point, they use Dean’s belt for him to bite on. And if Sam’s hands shake a little by the time they’re done, Dean is too focused on control-breathing and blinking through tears to notice.
“Okay. Okay, okay.” Sam shucks the tweezers aside and straightens, exhaling deeply. He pats Dean’s leg. “That’s it. You’re good.”
“Sonofa–...” Panting, Dean looks down at his shoulder, lips forming a disgusted rectangle, teeth bared. “That mother–” Shakily, he wipes at his brow with his good arm, smearing blood over his face. The cut on his brow is oozing again, and all the flop sweat isn’t helping.
“Gimme that.” Sam takes the whiskey from his brother and takes a swig of his own. Then he points from the bottle to Dean’s wound. “You ready?”
Dean eyes him warily, then closes his eyes for a moment and takes a fortifying breath, nodding. “Go ahead.”
Without delay, Sam tips the bottle over and douses Dean’s wound.
“Hunghhh…! The veins on Dean’s neck stand out as he bites back the pain. Sam winces in sympathy.
But at least the worst is over now. Sam bandages the wound with non-adherent gauze he finds buried deep in their medical field kit (he’s going to restock and expands its contents, Sam promises himself), then moves on to close the cut on Dean’s forehead with butterfly stitches. The Vicodin and the whiskey have mellowed Dean enough to just sit through it all in exhausted silence, propped up against the headboard, grimacing sluggishly now and then. He doesn’t even protest when Sam wrangles his arm into a sling. It’ll do both the burn and his bum shoulder good, although Sam has little hope that Dean will put up with it for more than a day.
“You good?” Sam asks, stepping back to watch his handiwork.
“Freakin’ fantastic.” Dean toasts to him with the near-empty bottle of Jack.
“Get some sleep, then.”
Sam swipes the bandage wrappers and used gauze up with his hands and goes to discard them in the trash. He’s tired and sore. It’s been a shocking two days that have taught them that, in some cases, humans were worse than monsters. But they’ve come out the other side alive and largely intact. Dean would heal up, albeit with an unwanted souvenir etched into his skin. He’d come looking for Sam and not given up until he’d found him. Had risked his skin - literally - to get him out. It’s a comforting feeling. One that trumps all the ugliness of this latest hunt. That it ended with Sam having to patch up his big brother wasn’t exactly fun, but it’s leaving Sam feeling somehow content.
They’ve got each other’s backs. And for the first time since Dean picked him up at Stanford Sam thinks that maybe he’s not just staying with Dean to find their father. Or to revenge Jess. There’s something else there. A feeling of companionship. Of family. Maybe, if he’s honest, he’s missed his brother more than he’d liked to admit.
“Huh.”
Marveling, Sam opens the freezer and grabs a bottle of beer that he’s definitely earned. Behind him, he hears Dean softly beginning to snore.
Damage Control Masterlist
Read the entire Damage Control series on AO3 here:
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stju87 · 5 months
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SAHOCS
Today I present to you my ocs from sah, Oenunbagi, Saccharine and Suzuki!
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Oenunbagi is a gray squirrel who, after suffering abuse from wolves, developed an obsession with them. He is very sweet and friendly, and loves to cook for his friends.
He has a prosthetic eye and is missing half of his long tail.
He was loyal to Flower Hill but his obsession with wolves blinded him and he betrayed Flower Hill by secretly giving away information.
In exchange for delivering the information, he was provided with medical supplies such as keriamine and anesthetics to kidnap wolves and keep them captive in his basement.He is very agile but has little physical strength, he is a combat medic.
Saccharine is a half-hedgehog mouse, him was created in a laboratory by the state who wanted to create stronger mice for war. Flower Hill invaded the secret laboratory and many of the babies and scientists died, But Saccharine survived and was adopted as his brother by Dr. Suzuki who worked as an apprentice in the laboratory.In the future he became part of the special forces of the weasel unit on Bat Island.Taking advantage of his hedgehog appearance, he periodically enters Flower Hill to obtain information from informants.He likes to feel superior to others and constantly gets into fights although in reality he has a big heart and protects the people he loves even though he doesn't know how to express his love.
He is also very friendly with his comrades and they fight while playing.
He hates hedgehogs with all his heart.
He has the ability to dig tunnels like mice and hedgehog quills. Although their quills are not as hard and resistant as real hedgehogs.
Suzuki He is a general doctor (weasel units), he is very depressed because he lost his fiancee and the baby she had in her belly.He constantly self-harmed even when Saccharine was a child, leaving a mark and distrust on his brother.He tends to neglect his fur and his life in general, but Sacharine takes care of him as if it were his responsibility.
He has a kind and nervous personality, he is easily embarrassed but also sad and melancholic.
Oenunbagi: Anxious attachment
Saccharine:disorganized attachment
Suzuki:Avoidant attachment
Oenunbagi is saccharine's informant but over time they became great friends! Oenunbagi does not believe that his brother is a good example to follow and on the other hand Suzuki believes that Oenunbagi is a bad example to follow. (They are both a bad example to follow, one is kidnapped and the other self-harms)Saccharine takes care of them even if they are crazy😂 Saccharine is not very right in the head either.
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autogynocrat · 10 months
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Ketamine is a unique downer drug with psychoactive properties. Used in veterinary medicine as an anesthetic. Used recreationally to enter a state known as the K-hole, where yo experience ego death while being outside yourself.
It’s being used in experimental depression treatments with mixed to fantastic results. It’s theorized to work as a hard reset for your brain, like flicking the power switch on a misbehaving Windows 98 PC. 👍
The anecdotal reports on reddit are mostly positive with some reporting a 100% reduction in depression symptoms that lasts for months and some cases years. Effective on treatment resistant depression as it works completely differently to SSRIs, lithium, etc.
hole
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a-crumb-of-whump · 1 year
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Ollie's updated intro
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His story | OC masterlist
Ollie is a 28 year old catboy. For years he’s been made to serve and entertain different people, but unlike Coco, he knows this isn’t his true purpose. He’s been to several different homes in his time as a pet, eventually landing in the hands of Alex after putting his previous owner in the hospital. He was originally signed into their program for disciplinary issues, but after very little persuasion, Alex managed to purchase him for themself.
He suffers from PTSD, BPD, depression and anxiety. Uses he/it pronouns interchangeably, though doesn’t really have a preference. He’s undeniably open about the way he feels about people and situations, and uses anger as a cover for what usually is fear. Protection is far more important to him than first impressions. 
It has a branding scar on Its shoulder; a symbol that relates back to Alex. It was done during the first few weeks of Alex purchasing him, and as a punishment for the scar she now has on her face, It was not given any anesthetics or sedatives to help with the pain. He also has a scar down his right eye and no tail due to it being cut off. 
Like many of my OC’s, it does not have the best social skills. You’ll often find that it says inappropriate things, sees red flags in people that aren’t there and has harsh reactions to small miscommunications or arguments. To befriend him requires a lot of patience. 
It sees the world in a very dark light, but despite that desperately wants to live. 
Ollie is available for roleplaying. You may whump it or ask it questions, or get it to whump Coco if you’re very mean.
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sewercentipede · 7 months
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i suppose i've never injected anything before so i was trying to suggest a safer option without even knowing your situation. i overstepped and shouldn't have. i hope you have a nice day
ok tbh i had a feeling that might have been it. ik injecting drugs has huge stigma(cuz yeah it seems extreme, kinda scary and yes it can be dangerous) but a lot of the stigma is also it being seen as really desperate and unsafe and junkie trashy behavior- not implying that you thought that- but it results in ppl on here reacting badly to hearing when i do it & some people send really mean demeaning presumptive things in my askbox. knowing now ur motivation for sending that ask, i appreciate ur concern for my safety. u obviously didn’t know the context because I didn’t give much and i didn’t realize it sounded like I just found a random used needle on the floor or smth lmao. so I get it. thank you for your apology, I really appreciate it and your grace about it.
I do just wanna point out - for the sake of clearing up some of the stigma of IVing and to explain why I wouldn’t do lsd instead - that intravenous ketamine is incredibly safe if u know what ur doing (which luckily I really really do). ketamine is also regularly administered intravenously in clinical settings, particularly for anesthesia on children and animals, due to its safety over other anesthetics (doesn’t cause respiratory depression), and as a method of mental health treatment/therapy for certain mental illnesses.
for me personally after having done lsd many of times over the course of my life I’ve come to regard it as a hard drug and more dangerous than IVing ketamine (even tho ur just putting it in ur mouth), because serotonergic psychedelics have a tendency to exacerbate my mental health issues and every time I take a serotonergic psych I run the risk of traumatizing myself more often than not. whereas I find the opposite to be true with dissociatives like ketamine (for me personally!). intravenous ketamine specifically has the highest therapeutic effect on my Crohn’s disease symptoms and my mental health issues compared to the other routes of ketamine administration.
anyway- thanks again for being so courteous and explaining ur reasoning (which was reasonable). my apologies for busting your balls a lil there at first. i hope that you have nice day too 🤍
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elk96 · 7 months
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Connection - Part 2
J Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy's portrayal) X reader.
Warnings: mentions of mental instability, depression, wound stitching.
Word Count: 861
This is loosely based on the book American Prometheus.
I'll be fine, thank you", Robert answered in his quite manner. 
"And who's gonna wash your sheets, clothes and mattress when you bleed all over the place"?, she asked him.
Christ, that woman. She had no shame in her. 
"I think you should know, Mr. Oppenheimer", she continued, "that cooperation between patients and their doctors is regarded with utmost appreciation".
An angry voice inside of him answered that he didn't give a damn about doctors and their I'll judgment -instead of voicing that opinion he let out a soft grunt as y/N helped him on his feet. 
The ground felt unsteady and the walls were spinning, but there it was, a gentle, steady hand on his back to guide him to the exit. 
y/N never left his side until she helped him on the backseat of her car. She had tied a bandage to the wound, but Robert seemed all together unwell-and she was anxious. He'd first come to her almost a month ago, and during their sessions she had grown fond of him-of the young man with the brilliant mind and complete lack of social skills and emotional connection to anything. He reminded her that she wasn't in a much better place either at his age. And that was only 2 years ago.
"I'm fine, I'm fine", he growled once she tried to help him out of the car after their short ride. Nevertheless,  he grabbed her forearm for stability as they got to her apartment.
It was nothing like what he imagined a psychiatrist's house would be-there were paintings, books, rich-coloured carpets and the remains of a fire burning in the fireplace. Nothing like Robert's terrible accommodation.
He fell onto an armchair, feeling suddenly very heavy.
"I need a smoke", he mumbled to himself through half-closed eyes. He searched his pockets with trembling hands and pulled out his cigarettes, put one in his mouth. His lighter had run out of fuel. "Do you have a lighter"?, he asked Dr. y/LN. 
He sighed. She had disappeared. His head hurt-but it was a particular feeling, he could somehow feel the steaming hot blood course through the cut. Or maybe it was all his imagination.
He shouldn't have done that. With Blackett, he shouldn't have done it. He could've killed him…
Dr. y/LN returned to the cozy living room with the first aid kit and a lighter in hand. She gave it to him and poured him a glass of whiskey-only to mitigate his pain and discomfort. Robert gulped it down.
y/N pulled out a syringe and filled it with a colourless liquid.
"This is anesthetic", she informed him, eyes focused on what she was doing. "So that you don't feel pain".
"I don't mind pain".
"No, but I do. And there's no need to add physical pain to the psychological one, right"?
Robert sighed. Every part of him insisted he tell her he is fine-he doesn't need to be taken care of, he could crawl in a corner and wait for the night to pass, but she knew. Somehow, she knew. And during their past sessions she'd been telling him so often, so convincingly that he wasn't alone in that situation, he actually dared take some comfort in her words.
"Deep breath now", y/N mumbled and Robert felt the needle poke through his skin. 
They waited in silence for the anesthetic to numb the area around his head as she washed her hands with rubbing alcohol. She tapped his skull softly.
"Did you feel that"?
"No".
"Honestly, Robert".
"No, I didn't feel that", he repeated and heard her breathe in deeply. 
The sight of the thread going through the kneedle made him cringe, so he focused on the books in the bookcase against him. 
"I didn't know you had such a wide spectrum of interests", he commented in a shaky voice. Some of the books there were really impressive.
"There's a reason I am a psychiatrist at my 23 years of age, Robert. Hopefully you'll understand that through your personal self-improvement".
She cut the remaining thread and wiped clean the area surrounding the wound. 
"Ready", she announced. She disappeared in the bathroom briefly to get rid of the blood in her hands and then emerged from the kitchen with a plate of chicken and rice. She sat on the couch next to Robert.
"Hungry"?, she asked casually. He nodded. She sighed. For a moment she looked as if she contemplated to say something, instead she fetched a book from her library.
"Crime and Punishment", Robert read as she placed on his lap.
"Dostoyevsky. Give it a go, I think you'll find it very…revealing. And, it is my scientific opinion that you should write to your friend. Apologize to him, don't let him go".
Robert's voice was low and thin as an old thread. "I did something terrible to him".
"I can imagine, from the little you've told me. It was a terrible approach on his side to announce he was getting married while you were at such a bad state. Write to him", was the last thing she said and escorted him to the door.
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