Tumgik
#med surg 2
raytorotits · 2 years
Text
"i'm not ready for the tour to end" well EYE am failing my classes right now. go away mr toro you are a DISTRACTION
243 notes · View notes
trippydaydreams · 2 months
Text
i have never felt more incompetent in all my semesters of school than this final sem… like seriously doubting my future of becoming a nurse
0 notes
studyguide22 · 2 years
Text
0 notes
themultifandomgal · 11 months
Text
Will Halstead- The Truth Always Comes Out Pt2
Tumblr media
3rd Person POV
Still unable to move YN lay there at the bottom of the stairs all night. Did Ryan throw down a blanket for her? No. By the time morning rolls around Ryan laughs stepping over her and going to 'work' whatever or wherever that may be. YNs phone rings, but the pain in her ribs won't allow her to move. Tears roll down her face, all she can think is that she's going to die if she doesn't get out of this relationship soon.
Throughout the next 2 hours YNs phone is consistently ringing, but then there's a knock on the door
"YN? YN you home?" Will shouts, not hearing from her all morning
"Will" YN tries to shout, but the pain makes her say his name quieter than she expected or even wanted. Will knows somethings not right. They had plans today and he's not heard from YN since last night, he also has his suspicions about Ryan possibly harming her since she came into Med with a burn. Still worried about YN Will looks through the windows around the house. He's able to make out a leg on the ground. Panic surges through him and he rings his brother.
Not even 15 minutes later and the whole of intelligence were at YNs address and so was an ambulance.
YN's POV
With tears running down my face due to pain, tiredness and anxiety, I hear my front door open
"YN?" Jay shouts running over to me, only allowing the tears to flow even more. Will, Gabby and Sylvie run in over to me "how long have you been here?"
"All night"
"Ok YN I need you to tell us what happened. Where are you hurt?" Gabby asks
"He pushed me" I cry out
"Who pushed you?"
"Ryan"
"Voight we've got a domestic case" Jay says into his radio
"My wrist hurts, my leg was hurting now it's numb. My chest hurts and my back"
"Ok let's get a neck stabiliser and get you on a back board" Sylvie says getting up and running to the ambulance outside with Gabby
"Once we're at the hospital and you've been assessed we will ask you some questions ok?"
"Yeah"
In no time at all I'm at the hospital. Turns out I have a broken wrist, broken leg and 3 broken ribs. I've had photos taken of all of my injuries and bruised
"Hey YN. Jay asked us to talk with you, said he's to close to the case. You ready to talk?" Adam walks into the room with Antonio
"Erm yeah, can Will stay?"
"Of course" Antonio gives me a small sad smile
"Let's start at the beginning shall we. Your relationship with Ryan, when did that start?"
"Er about 2 years ago. At first he was sweet, he was kind"
"When did that stop?" Adam frowns
"It didn't, well not straight away maybe 4 months in. It started off as little things"
"Like what?"
"Erm he didn't like me wearing certain clothes if he wasn't with me. He would tell me that certain people weren't nice and that he was looking out for me"
"When did thing escalate?" Antonio asks. I take in a deep breath
"Maybe a year in. He started staying out late, drinking more. It started off just being rough when we... ya know. Then it would be pushing me out of the way. Then maybe 5 months ago things got more physical. He would slap me and trip me up"
"Yesterday you came in for a burn, correct?"
"Yeah"
"Can you tell me what happened?" Antonio asks. I look at Will apologetically
"Ryan was smoking in the house, he was drunk. I told him to be careful. He didn't like that so he put the cigarette out on my leg"
"I should have asked you yesterday about the burn. If I had maybe you wouldn't have been hurt" Will rubs his hands over his face
"This is neither of your faults. Now YN do you have any idea where he may have gone?"
"No. He said work, but he could have gone anywhere"
"Ok. I think that's all the information we need right now. If there's anything else you'd like to tell us don't hesitate to come by and speak to us"
"Thank you" Antonio and Adam leave the room. Leaving me alone with Will
"You should have told me what was happening. I could have helped you. Jay could have helped you"
"I was scared" I look down at my broken arm "I was scared if I told anyone that he would do worse. That he would kill me"
"He's not going to go anywhere near you now. I promise" Will takes my good hand in his and gives it a little squeeze "I know that this probably isn't the best time to tell you, but I love you YN. I have for years, I lost my chance telling you when you started dating Ryan, but I'm not loosing my chance now" shocked is an understatement because I had no idea my best friend had the same feelings I did
"I only dated him to hide my feelings for you, but I need time Will"
"I know I understand, but I'm going to be here for you every step of the way work your recovery" I give Will hand a little squeeze. Maybe once I'm ready we can go on a first date together.
112 notes · View notes
Text
If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!
Sequel to Flinching.
Is this the softest Echo fic I've ever written? Yes. Did I cry while writing it? There is no video evidence. @actuallybarb thanks for requesting a second chapter!
Febuwhump Day 2 Ch 2
Flinching – Med OC&Echo
Warnings: Reference to attempted SA, reference to physical assault, some cursing, wound care, energy crash from excessive bacta use, non-intimate undressing, some self-deprecating thoughts
WC: 2,583
Tumblr media
The painful control mediating his intentionally even breaths did little to hide the violent tension pulsing through Echo’s taut body with each thrumming beat of his heart. I could feel it in the rush of blood surging through the pulse point of his inner arm, watched it in the ball of muscle locking around his jaw, and I loathed the knowledge that I was the cause of it. Numb to the ache shooting through the abused lip caught between my teeth, I found myself straining for silence in my every tentative movement, struck beneath the weight of fearing my very existence in that moment was enough to further fuel his anger, and I loathed my own timidness just as violently as I loathed the cause of that rage.
“We’re not going to let something like this happen again.” The deep quiet in his whispered promise was so displaced against that frightful anger that I couldn’t help but look up to see the perfect stillness in those amber eyes; the conviction burning through his every word as the man I’d come to treasure for his gentleness suddenly embodied the powerful visage of the GAR’s most elite soldiers. It was easy to forget the simple fact that he’d earned his title of arc trooper; that the exceptional strength of his towering form was merely a small part in what made him such a dangerous force, but, in that moment, I could see a determination in those eyes that only a fool would doubt, and, for the first time in days, I felt safe.
My gaze fell away at the hiss of the medbay door sliding open. Stepping away from him, I ambled numbly about the room to gather my supplies, dreading the crash I knew would hit me mercilessly after smearing that blue gel over my wounds. At the first hitch of breath from abused muscles balking beneath the weight of a tube of bacta, Echo quickly stepped forward to take it from me, hand only just whispering against mine to ease the thick container from my grasp.
“Just tell me what else you need.” He said softly. Maker, I hated this… I’d sprinted through waves of enemy fire carrying over half my body weight in gear to reach wounded soldiers, but, in that moment, I couldn’t manage even retrieving my own damn bacta… Motioning vaguely toward the handful of supplies I’d already gathered, I managed a small shrug.
“That’s probably it, I think.” The words felt so small, and I found myself cringing at the mere sound of them. Tomorrow… Tomorrow I would force that bouncing smile back in place. Tomorrow I would remember every horror I’d faced and conquered. Tomorrow I would remember that I was strong, and I’d find a way to draw back my shoulders and plant my feet beneath me so I could stand tall beside these amazing soldiers – these amazing men… but, as I felt his hand settle gently against my back, I had to grant myself permission to be weak, if only for that night, and, amidst the quiet concern and utter lack of judgement from the man beside me, I found some way to forgive myself for it.
“I’m guessing most of the bruises aren’t just on your face.” He started tentatively, and a small huff left me at the quiet apology in his hinted words, head just shifting in a brief nod. “Are you okay with me helping you? I could get you a blanket – something to help keep you covered.” There was that gentleness I so loved him for; somehow finding a way to draw a small smile to my lips even through the haze of emotion that had robbed me of my strength and left me so deathly tired.
“It’s fine, Echo.” I breathed, shooting him a ragged shadow of a smirk. “Not like I don’t have a breastband on. Plus, medic school has a way of stripping people of that kind of shame.” He let out a knowing chuckle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had similar experiences from his arc training. Still, when I reached up to undo the clasp at my neck, he turned away in some instinctual offer for privacy.
My fond smile lasted just until I’d begun rolling the skin-tight material up my chest, muscles seizing at the movement. Gritting my teeth against the unavoidable hurt, my hand tightened around the black fabric, scowling with the effort to push through the sharp pain tearing through my back and shoulder as I strained to silence the tiny hitches in my breath, the whimper I only just managed to choke back until finally caving, body trembling against the exhaustion and pain and blinding frustration.
“Echo,” his name left my lips in a quiet plea, “um… could you… I seem to be struggling a bit with this damn skinsuit.” He hesitated only a moment before turning back to me, brows just tensing above the darkness that filled those gorgeous eyes.
“Yeah,” he sighed softly, “turn around.” With a slow breath, I turned my back to him, absently reaching out to steady myself against the ledge of the counter. Still, I couldn’t fight back the way my body tensed at the first brush of his hand over the strip of exposed skin at my waist. “Sorry – hand’s probably cold.” He murmured, pausing only briefly in a silent offer for me to pull away.
“Actually, cold sounds pretty nice right now.” I whispered despite the way my body already shook, but the thought of that cold touch against the swollen and bruised skin just hidden by the thin layer of cloth promised a comfort I couldn’t help but crave; a balm to sooth the heat collected in mistreated flesh. Reassured I hadn’t changed my mind, Echo carefully slipped his thumb between the sensitive skin and the bottom hem of my shirt, movements impossibly gentle as he wedged the fabric up an inch at a time, shifting smoothly from side to side.
I knew exactly what he saw that made him suddenly freeze, heard the screaming absence of breath as the air staled in his lungs; felt the way his eyes burred into the mass of dark purple just beneath my rib. Without a word, his touch dragged across my back to push the shirt up just that much more, and he released a tense, shaking exhale. Movements softening into something that threatened to break me, he continued so slowly, I barely felt him until his fingers only just whispered against my neck to grip the bundle as he stepped quietly around me. I fought to hide the grimace twisting over my lips as I tried to move my arms enough to help him slip the garment over my head, but his quiet words quickly stilled that futile effort.
“I’ve got it.” Even that brief attempt to force such a simple movement left me struggling beneath gritted teeth and too-quick breaths, but that didn’t matter when I saw the ice in Echo’s carefully blank expression, eyes studying each mark of that man’s fury marring my chest, the vivid outlines of his hands clearly defined in nearly black shades of purple along my arms and across my throat just beneath where the neckline of my shirt had been, before finally settling on the ruin of my face.
The horrified rage that kept fighting to wrench his expression into a scowl left me frozen, guilt twisting through my chest. I should have just done this myself – should have taken care of it days ago so they never found out to begin with. The tiny tremor in his hand as he reached for me broke my heart, and I couldn’t bring myself to even breathe as his fingers fluttered across my ruined cheek almost too softly for me to feel before carefully slipping around the back of my neck. With such painstaking care, he lowered his forehead to just settle against mine, and I felt the way he shook beneath each purposefully regulated breath, eyes clenching shut against some fleeting struggle for control, and I couldn’t stay silent in the wake of his hurt.
“Hey… I’m okay.” I don’t think I believed those words until I found myself needing to breathe them into the shuddering air trapped between us. “I’m okay, Echo.” My hands moved on their own to whisper softly over the trembling muscle straining against his jaw. “I’m okay.” Only after several more strained breaths did he finally pull back, hand lingering on my neck for just a moment longer as his eyes locked onto mine with a sorrow and guilt that sent tears clawing up my throat. With a final, sharp sigh, he tore his gaze away, stepping back to reach for the tube of bacta.
He couldn’t seem to bring himself to meet my eyes again as he began meticulously covering each discolored patch of skin with that cool gel, touch such a gentle caress, I couldn’t help but find myself leaning into it. The few areas struck hard enough to split the skin, he carefully bandaged with textbook precision. After he tended to my back, I could have thanked him, relieved him of any obligation driving him to address each exposed patch of dark bruises in turn, but I knew that look in those haunted eyes. There was nothing he could do about what had happened, but, this, working to lessen the damage already done, this was with within his power, and it offered as much comfort to him as it did to me. So I stayed quiet, eyes watching the tender movements of his hand as he worked to remove even the memory of that man’s touch.
When he finally turned his ministrations to my face, that tension stole threw him anew. Lips just twitching into something that wanted to be a smile, I let my fingers brush over his wrist.
“It’s alright, Echo,” I promised gently, “you don’t have to-” but before I could finish, he silently raised his hand to the hard lump on the side of my jaw, guiding the clear blue gel carefully along the bruised skin of my cheek, over the painful gash on my lower lip, fingertips just tracing the swollen bridge of my nose. I let my eyes close as he circled the dark flesh surrounding my left eye, and didn’t notice the way my head began to sink forward until my name whispered gently over his lips.
Chest swelling with a nearly forgotten breath, I belated pushed myself back up, eyes reluctantly opening just enough to search for him. The worry pulling his pale face into the beginnings of a frown sent a flush of heat up my neck.
“I’m fine.” I assured him, though even I could hear the slight mumble in my words. “Side effect of using so much bacta.” A hum caught in my throat as I tried to blink away the haze of exhaustion. “And I haven’t… hmm… been a few days since I’ve been able to get much sleep.” His hand slipped carefully around my arm to steady me against the way my body had begun to sway, and I just noticed that tension steal back over him. Forcing some bit of alertness back into my faltering mind, I looked up at him; saw the way his attention had locked onto my hip, and I didn’t need to look to know he could see the outline of a thumb, that he knew the rest of the handprint wrapped around my waist just beneath the fabric.
“Unless you’re terribly eager to get me out of my pants, I think I can take care of the rest.” I whispered, pleased to hear that teasing lilt playing once more with my voice, and even the weak huff of a chuckle it drew from him was a balm to the terrible weight lingering between us. He glanced away from me a moment, jaw working over words he hadn’t yet managed to form before letting his gaze shift tentatively back to mine.
“Why don’t you take Hunter’s cot tonight?” He asked quietly, and I couldn’t hide my surprise at the offer. “He’s on watch for a while and…” The way his words stumbled over his tongue left me frozen, “I’d honestly just feel better if we can keep an eye on you.” A flush of color crept up his neck, silent plea screaming through those eyes. I didn’t answer for a moment, trying to come to terms with the idea, but I was too tired to grasp the thought for long. I just wanted to sleep; to be free of the wretched memory of that night. I didn’t realize how much I truly didn’t want to be alone until hearing the simple need in his words.
“If he doesn’t mind…” I replied hesitantly, failing to fully stifle the whisper of hope in my voice. A relieved smile flashed across his lips, shoulders straightening as he drew in a deep breath.
“I’ll talk to him to make sure. Finish up, and I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” I gave a small nod, hands already reaching for the waistline of my pants as he turned to leave.
I barely remembered the automated motions of lathering those last few bruises hidden around my hips in bacta before stumbling to my personal locker, the way my hands fumbled with the far more forgiving fabric of my sleepwear; the moment my body tried to collapse, falling heavily against the wall as my balance failed me in a strained attempt to step into my shorts.
The distant call of my name sounded more like a memory than a voice, and it wasn’t until hearing the tap at the door that a hum caught in my throat in some useless attempt at a response, only catching a brief glimpse of Echo as the door hissed open before that merciless weight dragged against my eyelids, body slumping sideways. I didn’t hear the quick flurry of words as Echo darted across the room, but the flush of recognition was all I needed to melt into his touch as he quickly pulled me against him.
“Hey-hey; you still with me, Doc?” The warmth of his breath tickled across my scalp, mind begrudgingly working to find some meaning in his voice.
“Mhmm.” The grumble barely made it past my lips, feet belatedly shifting to find purchase beneath me.
“Alright, let’s get you to bed, huh?” The warmth that touched his quiet murmur only further robbed me of any will to move, eagerly pressing further into him. “I know; that stuff can really take it out of you… Come on – just hold onto me, okay?” The world seemed to dance for a moment, wrenching some fleeting whisper of awareness back just enough to find the gentle concern in Echo’s eyes, and then nothing else mattered because I realized he was holding me.
“Echo.” His name stumbled over my lips, head wilting to rest thoughtlessly against his shoulder. “’m so tired.” I could feel his thumb brush softly over my arm as he started slowly through the ship.
“I know,” he breathed. “That’s good. You need to rest. We’ll keep watch.”
Body already rocking beneath the leisurely ebb and flow of exhaustion-dulled breaths, I managed a final hum in some fleeting recognition of his words and readily let the steady rhythm of his strides lull me into a blissfully empty sleep.
Next Chapter
Tumblr media
Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!
Click here for my Masterlist.
Taglist: @arctrooper69 @ct-0113 @padawancat97 @eclec-tech
155 notes · View notes
Text
I dislike nursing tiktok for the usual ethical reasons but also because there will be perfectly fine videos that are like “here’s what the different specialities are like :3” and med surg nurses are always 1) fuckin stressed and 2) wearing a headband, and unfortunately goddamn it I do be fuckin stressed and wearing a headband
124 notes · View notes
thebadgerclan · 8 months
Text
Shots Fired: Part 2
Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox
Summary: Alex is out of surgery...
Part 1 here
Words drifted in in pieces.  His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and he couldn’t feel his side.  His limbs felt heavy, and his mouth was so dry.  “....surgery went well…”  “...pain medicine…”  “...suspect in custody…”  “...numbers look good…”  “...Henry…”  That got Alex’s attention.  He tried to sit up, but he was so tired.  “Henry?” he tried to say, but it came out sounding more like a garbled moan.  Weird.  Slowly, he opened his eyes, squinting against the sterile white lighting.
He was in a hospital, that much was clear.  A nurse was adjusting his IV bags, and he offered Alex a smile.  “Good to see you awake, Mr. Claremont-Diaz.”  “Henry,” Alex said, more clearly this time.  “Henry.”  “Yes, sir, Henry is here,” the nurse said.  “So is your mother, your sister, father, and step-father.  I’m sure they’ll be in to see you soon now that you’re out of surgery.”
Alex felt a surge of relief that Henry was here.  He was so tired, but he forced himself to stay awake, at least long enough to see him.  A moment later, the door opened, and Ellen entered, closely followed by Henry.  “Oh, my baby!”  Ellen was immediately at his bedside, clutching his hand and kissing his face.  “Ma,” Alex slurred, whatever pain meds they’d given him kicking in. “I’m here, Sugar, I’m right here.  Oh Lord, you gave us a scare.”
Henry remained in the doorway, not wanting to intrude on a family moment.  Ellen took several deep breaths, cupping her son’s cheek.  “You’re gonna be just fine, darlin’.  The doctor said you’ll be just fine.”  Alex nodded, knowing his mother would likely make a PowerPoint about what had happened later.  Gunshot Wounds and You.  Ellen was stroking his hair, and he leaned into her touch.  For a moment, he was a little boy in Texas again, coming to his Ma after he had a bad dream.
When Alex opened his eyes, they landed on Henry.  Henry, who was standing in the doorframe.  Henry, who had clearly been crying.  Henry, who was too far away from Alex for his liking.  Alex lifted a hand weakly, reaching out towards the Prince.  “Henry,” he croaked.  “Baby…”  Henry let out a soft cry, and Ellen turned to look at him.  “I’ll let you two be,” she said, rising from the chair at Alex’s bedside.
Once she was gone, Henry moved to his boyfriend’s side, taking his hand and kissing it, blinking his tears back.  “Baby,” Alex repeated, and Henry managed a small smile.  “My love,” he said.  “My heart, Alex.  God, I thought…”  Henry trailed off, and forced himself not to cry.  Alex was here, he was alive.  “Baby,” he said, squeezing the Prince’s hand.  “Don’t cry, Hen.  I’m right here.”  “Alex, you were shot,” Henry said.  “I’m well within my rights to be worried.  I almost lost you, my darling.  I was so worried, Alex, I was terrified.”
Alex squeezed his hand again.  “I’m sorry, baby.  How…how did you find out?”  “I couldn’t sleep,” Henry answered.  “And something told me to turn on the news.  And I saw…I was on a plane within a half hour.”  Alex’s heart squeezed at the thought of his boyfriend in his rooms at Kensington, turning on the T.V. to learn he’d been shot.  “And you flew across the ocean to be with me…”
Henry lifted their joined hands and kissed Alex’s knuckles.  “My darling, I would do anything to be at your side, especially when you need me.  I love you, Alex, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”  Alex was crying now, and Henry wiped his tears away, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  Henry cupped his cheek, and Alex turned his face into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut.
Before Henry could say anything else, Alex’s nurse, Zack, entered.  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said.  “But we got some labs back.  Mr. Claremont-Diaz, your hemoglobin is a bit lower than we’d like it to be, so we’d like to hang another unit of blood.  I have some forms for you to sign before we do that, though.”  Alex nodded, taking the clipboard from Zack and signing the papers attached.  “Alright, we’ll be back in a bit.”
Zack returned about 15 minutes later, another nurse in tow.  Henry watched as they checked and double-checked Alex’s ID band against the computer, the computer against the blood bag, and the blood bag against his ID band.  New IV tubing was hooked up, and once the transfusion was running, Zack pulled a chair into the room from the hallway.  “I have to sit with you for the first 15 minutes,” he explained.  “Let me know if you feel any itching, shortness of breath, or any sort of pain.”  Alex nodded, and Henry returned his complete attention to his boyfriend.  
15 minutes passed without incident, after which Zack took Alex’s vitals and ducked out of the room.  “Hen?”  “Yes, my love?”  “I can’t feel my side.”  Henry nodded, his lips pursed.  “I’d expect that’s normal, dear.  You did have major surgery.”  Alex hummed.  “What exactly happened?”  Henry took a deep breath before explaining.  “The bullet hit your kidney.  Apparently, they were able to remove it and fix your kidney as much as they were able.  The doctor said they’re going to monitor your functions and go from there.”
Alex nodded.  “Was I…the target?”  “No, love,” Henry assured.  “They don’t know much on that front yet, but you weren’t targeted.”  Alex laughed softly.  “Some luck I have.”  Henry bent forward and kissed him, lips soft and gentle.  “Yes, some luck you have.  You’re alive, Alex, you’re here.”  He hummed, accepting the kisses Henry was all too eager to give.  After a moment, Alex spoke.  “We should turn on the news,” he said.  “See if they think I’m dead.”
Henry rolled his eyes, but obliged, turning the T.V. on and finding CNN.  “A statement from President Claremont was just released, stating that Alex Claremont-Diaz is stable and out of surgery.  The President thanks the public for their support and asks that her family’s privacy is respected at this time.”  “Aww,” Alex said.  “I was hoping they’d think I’m dead.”  Henry scowled.  “Alex!  That’s not funny!  You…you nearly…I…”
He dissolved into sobs, and Alex, reached out for his hand.  “Henry, baby, come here.”  It took some coaxing, but Henry eventually found himself curled into Alex’s uninjured side, his face in his chest, Alex’s arm around him.  “I’m sorry, baby, you’re right.  It’s not funny.”  Henry only cried, clutching Alex’s hospital gown.  “I’m alright, H, I’m right here.  I love you, you know that, right?  I love you so fucking much.”
Henry lifted his head, kissing Alex’s cheek.  “I love you too, darling.  I was just so scared I’d never see you again.”  “I was too, Hen.  I was scared I’d die without getting to tell you I love you.  Without getting to see your perfect face again.”  Henry kissed him again, wanting to drown in him.  “Is my phone here?”  Henry looked around, finding a clear plastic bag full of Alex’s things.  
He handed Alex his phone, also finding his–technically Henry’s–signet ring too.  “Here, love,” Henry said, sliding the ring onto his finger.  Alex smiled, kissing Henry’s hand before raising his phone and snapping a selfie.  He posted it to Twitter and Instagram with the caption: “I lived, bitch.”, something he knew would have Zahra in a tizzy.  Alex yawned, letting his phone drop to his side.
“I’m tired, H.”  Henry nodded, once more taking his hand.  “Then sleep, dear.  God knows you’ve earned it.”  Alex smiled, settling back against the pillows.  “Love you, baby,” he said, already dropping off, and Henry beamed.  “I love you too, Alex.  I’m staying right here with you.”  Alex nodded as he fell asleep, and Henry felt a knot in his chest loosen.  Alex was alive, Alex was alright.  Whatever came next, he could handle, because Alex was alive.
36 notes · View notes
lithesunflower · 11 months
Text
Fragile Strength Part 14
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12   Part 13
Author’s Note: Thanks to @hes-a-tough-kid for giving me the idea for this part and for allowing me to write it out!
Storms hadn’t really been a thing for the past few months that the Sullys had been with the Metkayina clan. But that morning had started out grey and cloudy and progressed to a full on storm outside before anyone had even woken up.
Anya had woke up earlier than normal and just laid curled up with Spider listening to the waves and some thunder in the distance. When she heard the bell for breakfast she stirred and gently nudged Spider but the boy was quiet almost groaning in protest when she kept pushing him to wake up.
“It’s time for breakfast” she said softly.
“M’not hungry” he mumbled. That was pretty out of character for Spider who was usually the one nudging Anya to get her to hurry. He was always so sure Lo'ak would take his share of the food if he didn't appear to defend it. Anya wasn't sure how to react to Spider being so insistent he wanted to stay in bed.
"I'll go and I'll bring breakfast back for you okay?" she offered and Spider hummed in thanks. After all he might find himself hungry later.
Anya wiggled out from under his arm and there was a part of Spider that wanted to ask her to stay close to him. The lack of her warmth beside him made him shudder a little and his head was starting to pound. But he knew she probably needed food.
“Just going to sleep a little longer” he assured her, though maybe it was more for himself than for Anya. He could sense the girl's hesitation about leaving him but she seemed to decide that getting breakfast for him was the best way to help.
"I'll be back soon okay?" she cooed before disappearing.
Everything started to hurt more when Anya moved away from him. He tried to say something as he felt her moving away but even the idea of speaking, of forming a coherent thought, hurt.
Spider lay there almost awake but almost asleep. There was a feeling in his head like energy was zapping it’s way through his brain, bouncing off his skull and shooting across to either side of his head. He was disoriented and confused. He tried to move but it hurt too much and the pain seemed to be getting more intense. He realized his mask felt like it was suffocating him and he wanted it off so badly. 
He managed to open his eyes and move slightly towards the opening of the hut. He needed to get to the med capsule, he could take his mask off in the lab. But every movement felt like he wasn't just moving his own body but several bags of sand, like someone had tied them all to his arms and legs, weighing him down.
It took everything he had to get to the med capsule. A few times he stumbled and wasn't sure he was going to be able to get back up but he pushed on, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling towards the pod. It had started to rain and he could hear the thunder getting closer. Each noise, the crashing waves, the thunder above, the wind blowing, it all sent threads of pain through his head. Sometimes he could hear and other times he just had a ringing in his ears.
The second he found the door to the labs he pushed the button and pulled himself inside. The door closed behind him and he yanked the mask off hoping for relief from the pressure in his head.
But the pressure didn’t stop, it subsided a small bit, enough for him to stumble to the bed that Anya had cleaned for him when he hurt his hands. He found himself wishing she was there and worrying that she wouldn't know where to find him. Maybe he should have left a note, or waited for her to come back.  She would know what to do about his head.
As he swayed over the bed contemplating how to communicate with Anya a new surge of pain splintered through his head causing him to cry out as he collapsed on the bed, curling into himself. He felt awful, nauseous, disoriented, scared. He didn’t know what was happening. Spider had only felt this kind of pain once before and he had tried to push it from his memory. 
Now as he lay curled into himself in the bed flashes from the past played in his mind. Being strapped to the cold metal machine unable to move. Unable to look away from the spinning lights above him, unable to tell which way was up or down, unable to feel his own body because of the effects of the monstrous machine.  He remembered being asked over and over where the Sullys were, Jake specifically, he had fought hard to keep from letting his mind form a thought like they asked him to. He had done everything he could to keep from giving away his Na'vi family and eventually the swirling had stopped leaving him shaking and bleeding. He heard Quaritch talking to General Ardmore and somehow pieced together that it was the Colonel that had stopped the machine.
As Spider lay there in the science lab he didn't know how to handle the pain he felt. It felt like hours were going by but he couldn't move, couldn't get up, couldn't do anything but lay there in pain, actual tears running down his face. He longed for the relief that had washed over him when Quaritch had stopped the machine. He even would have settled for Lo'ak coming and giving him a good old fashioned punch to send him into unconsciousness, anything to stop the pressure he felt.
Eventually, he felt Anya's presence in the room. Relief did wash over him for a moment as he realized the girl had found him. He knew he shouldn't be surprised anymore by how easily she managed to locate him.
"Spider?" she asked softly. Her voice was melodic and soft, it didn't hurt his head when she spoke as the other noises around him had. He found himself whimpering softly trying to explain what was wrong but words weren't forming. Anya moved closer and slipped onto the bed beside him gently turning him towards her.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked him, her fingers brushing over his cheeks searching for heat or injury.
"My head...it hurts..." he managed to get out. Anya shifted herself so that he could lay his head against her lap. Her golden locks falling around him like a sort of canopy.
"Where?" she asked softly. "Show me where it hurts"
Spider reached up and tapped on his forehead and Anya's hands quickly moved to begin to massage at his temples. Spider felt the pressure begin to ease away. It still hurt but somehow the gentle motion of her hands, the feeling of her presence, made it more bearable.
Slowly, the pain started to subside and Spider found himself relaxing more and more into Anya's touch. His trembling had stopped and he was finally able to open his eyes again. The warm glow from Anya wrapping him in a pocket of safety.
"Are you okay?" Anya asked her eyes full of concern and gentleness. Spider considered her question then nodded softly.  
"Y-yeah...I...I don't know what happened...that...that hasn't ever happened before, not here" he said. Anya picked up on his phrasing
"Not here? What do you mean?" she asked him. He took a deep breath and looked up at her. How could he explain this without worrying her?
"Remember I told you that I was tortured?" he asked her. She nodded slowly, the pain in her eyes evident.
"They stuck me in this machine and it would hold me down tight and spin around me. it made me sick, scared...I couldn't...I couldn't let go...I couldn't close my eyes or move and it hurt my head...like a bunch of pressure trying to crush my skull..."
"Until someone stoped them" she finished for him, tears in her eyes just from his recounting the torture.
"Yeah..." he whispered softly and she moved so she could curl up next to him. He could see that the sun was starting to peak out of the clouds now, the rain had stopped and the thunder was gone.
"I'm sorry I left and didn't tell you" Spider said. Anya just shook her head and smiled
"It's okay...I figured out where you were, you can't hide from me for too long" she teased him. He found himself smiling at her and rolling his eyes playfully. He glanced around the room and gasped
"You brought food?" Anya raised a brow and laughed at his obvious excitement. 
"Of course I did...I told you I would"
"You're a lifesaver!" he said springing out of bed, almost all thought of before erased from his mind. Anya watched him carefully but he seemed to be okay now. Perhaps this was just a one time occurrence...a flash back from his previous experiences like he said...but there was no denying that it made Anya uneasy.
Part 15
Tumblr media
25 notes · View notes
nefelibatastudy · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
nov. 2, 2021 | all saint’s day.
happy halloween ya’ll, i’ve had a very long yet stressful weekend due to the fact that i haven’t met my own deadline. however, overall non-academic wise i’ve had a very fruitful weekend.
holiday weekend in a nutshell:
clean the house (twice)
rewrite my notes on research
organize my notes on med-surge
met with my friend and she gave me these classic books!! (pride and prejudice, wuthering heights, and sense and sensibility)
bought this plant and it is called joy pathos! for only 2$
finished study med-surge (only the handouts)
currently studying on research!!
unfortunately, there are still a lot of things that i need to do, but i chose not to pressure myself over the things i can’t do since i still have a lot of time.
96 notes · View notes
icedmetaltea · 9 months
Text
Ok had another psychiatry appointment today and the lady recommended I go stay at an inpatient facility till they can get the meds situation figured out cause ya boi been getting 3 hrs of sleep the past few days, barely any appetite, been having these awful surges of anxiety/depression where I feel like I'm losing my mind throughout the night and... yeah. Idk. I may. Since I still have to wait like 2 weeks for my parents to pick me up and bring me down to stay with them, I could use some kinda support. Cause as nice as my sibling is, they do not know how to deal with someone going through this. They expect me to just bounce back at any time.
TL;DR maaaaay be gone for a bit if I choose to go that route. Not looking forward to waiting for 2+ hours at the ER but if it comes to that, may have to
12 notes · View notes
icepoptroll · 3 months
Text
15 (+1) questions tag game! tagged by @woozysioux
1- are you named after anyone?
No. My actual first name is Erin which is a variant of the Irish word for Ireland so I guess I'm more so named for part of my heritage?
2-when was the last time you cried?
a little less than a week ago
3-do you have kids?
No, but hopefully someday after I've made a good stable life for myself
4-what sports do you play/have played?
I'm mostly made of pudding actually and not athletic at all really, but I do practice yoga and I ran track (badly) in middle school if that counts at all
5-do you use sarcasm?
Nooooo, me, using sarcasm? Never
6-what is the first thing you notice about people?
Their facial features
7-what's your eye color?
*Jane Doe voice* Savannah. . . with the greenest eyes
8-scary movies or happy endings?
I tend to hope for happy endings but I like scary movies too
9-any talents?
I'm not too bad at drawing/painting and I like to think I'm a pretty good nurse for a relatively new grad
10-where were you born?
New Jersey
11-what are your hobbies?
Art, writing, TV shows and movies, music (especially showtunes/musical theater), yoga/working out, currently exploring my spirituality, but also life's simple pleasures like having an interesting conversation with a good friend or driving to work on a clear, low-traffic night, dressed in comfy scrubs, spotify playing all my favorite jams, big iced coffee in hand. I also really love learning and researching stuff I'm curious about
12-do you have any pets?
None of my own since I've moved into my own apartment, however my family still at home does have two guinea pigs, a mouse, a hamster, and two cats (rodents kept in a separate room the cats can't access of course)
13-how tall are you?
5'2, I'm fun-sized
14-favorite subject in school?
In high school I liked art and English. More recently In nursing school I really enjoyed med-surg.
15-dream job?
I always wanted to work in animation. . . but a more practical job was more realistic for my means and circumstances. I started out doing activities in a small dementia home in hopes of working in a creative capacity, which turned into me helping out the aides, which turned into me becoming a certified caregiver, which turned into me becoming a med tech, which turned into me becoming a nurse which is where I'm at today!! I'm very very happy to be a nurse and I'm grateful I have it in me, but it would be nice to also one day have an artistic side gig too
16-what reminds you of home (doesn't have to mean house... just things that remind you of the feeling of home?
On nights I don't work night shift, I like to take a shower, turn off the lights and fall asleep with the TV on watching cartoons from my childhood all fresh and clean and cozy. Reminds me of how as a kid I would watch TV with my parents before bed at night.
tagging: @eveningbotany @butchcetacean @auberginenight No pressure of course !!
6 notes · View notes
slippinmickeys · 1 year
Text
The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (19/?)
When Mulder woke, he felt a distinct sense of something missing, like a twinge on a phantom limb. He half-rolled over on his cot and pressed his nose into the side of his pillow which still carried the scent of Scully. He huffed deeply and felt a surge of dopamine hit his bloodstream.
With a quick glance at his clock, he saw that it was morning, but still fairly early, and remembered that all of the shield crew didn’t have to leave their racks until almost midday, but he rolled over and sat up anyway, wiping a hand across tired eyes. He would rather be tired and spend time with Scully than sleep – an odd sensation for a guy who could nap with the best of them.
He’d always known how it would go, when and if he and Scully got together — he was under no misapprehension. Like an itch that was under the skin, they wouldn’t be able to get enough of each other, they wouldn’t want to be apart. The thing about being one of the first Mars colonists though – they would have to be. For various missions and even just day-to-day tasks, they would be separated by rooms, miles, even sols. It was going to hurt. But the coming back together: meals grabbed in the mess, the occasional duty they were both assigned, and, he now knew from experience – stolen nights together in one or the other’s quarters – would be sweeter than a gulp of mountain air after a fresh rain. And being that they’d been breathing nothing but canned and scrubbed air for the better part of the last year – Mulder knew from sweet.
He took a quick shower in the lav and hustled to the medical bay, trying to appear as though he weren’t rushing when every cell of his body was telling him to go faster. When she met his eyes from the doorway with the brightest of smiles, he could have floated to her side on pure exhilaration.
“Morning,” he said, smiling back, feeling ever-so-slightly shy and dopey.
“Hey,” she said, and looked down at the floor briefly, clearly feeling the same way. She was hunched over shipping kits made of plastic and metal. Mulder noticed that there were five or six similar containers on the exam table, which she glanced at briefly as she rose to stand. “Didn’t think I’d see you for at least a few more hours.”
“I didn’t come at a bad time, did I?” he asked, suddenly just a tiny bit unsure.
“No!” she said quickly, and then blushed. Another surge of dopamine hit Mulder’s bloodstream. “No,” she said again, regaining a little composure. “I just know the commander didn’t put a wake-up order on you guys this morning and I thought you might sleep in.”
“I’d rather be here,” he said, taking a step into the room.
She was wearing a white jumpsuit today, which made her look particularly trim and highlighted the bright shade of her hair. She seemed to get more beautiful by the sol. By the hour. By the minute.
“I’m going to put you to work,” she said, friendly but haughty, thrusting her chin out. “We have to go over all the base medications – which is going to feel like your worst class in graduate school, I might point out – and I still haven’t put away the supplies that got tossed when Robo-2 failed.”
Mulder raised his brows. “Will I be working closely with you while engaged in all this sadistic labor?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“Then don’t threaten me with a good time, Scully.”
She smiled.
They began by going over the meds, which was just as tedious and awful as she warned him it would be. He ended up having to get a pad of paper and take notes while Scully gave him a comprehensive run-down of everything they had on base. Considering NASA had tried to cover just about every medical eventuality, it took quite a bit of time.
“The computer will help you with diagnoses if you need to run something quickly,” she said, “and the Flight Surgeon at Mission Control can handle anything that’s not acute.” He knew all of this, of course, and had studied it all while en route on board the Larunda, but it was good to see where it all was being stored, and to get a better feel for the medical bay.
Scully stood. “That’s it on compulsory duty,” she said. “Feel free to head back and try to get a little more sleep, Mulder. I know you must be exhausted.”
He fought the urge to yawn, but stood and stretched.
“I was adequately put through my paces last night, I admit,” he said, even though he knew she was talking about the fatigue he was experiencing due to the rigors of the magnetic shield mission. He stepped into her space, forcing her to look up at him, which she did with a sly smile.
“ Adequately ?” she intoned, teasing him.
“More than adequate,” he said. “Scully,” his voice dropped to a whisper and he leaned down even more, until their noses were almost touching. “Last night was… out of this world.”
She threw back her head and let rip an undignified guffaw which energized him more than any sleep ever could.
“Come on,” he said, still smiling and moving over to the payload cases that she’d stacked on the exam table, the edges on some stained a rusty orange from where they’d sat in the powdery regolith. “Let me help you with these.”
She grinned and moved over with him, and they began to check the structure of each container before opening it and cataloguing what was inside, after which they unpacked each one, filling the medical bay with the rest of its complement of supplies. When they were on the second to last kit, Mulder turned it from where it sat on the metal gurney.
“Structure seems fine,” he reported to Scully, who had a laptop open on the other end of the tabletop with the inventory list open. “But one of the latches is damaged,” he said, fingering the loose metal clasp.
“Is the other latch intact?” she asked, looking up from her computer.
“Seems to be,” he said.
Scully pursed her lips. “Let’s check for regolith particles on the interior. See if the seal was compromised.”
Mulder nodded and opened the other latch, swinging open the container, which was shaped like an oversized briefcase. Scully handed him a magnifying glass, which she seemed to have conjured out of thin air. From where he stood, there didn’t appear to be any Martian dust on or near the edge closest to the compromised latch, which he reported to Scully before taking a closer look with the magnifying glass.
“Seal does not appear to have been compromised,” he said, straightening back up and handing the tool back to Scully.
She nodded, made a note on her laptop and turned to him.
“Contents?” she said.
He picked up the small bottles one at a time and read off the contents. “Pills, looks like,” he said. “We’ve got uh… ibuprofen,” he set that bottle aside and picked up the next one. “And…” he squinted at the printing on the bottle. Though they’d gone over nearly all the medications in the clinic, this wasn’t one he was familiar with. “I don’t know this one. Dimeth…” he started.
Scully looked up from her computer with a grin, as though she was trying not to laugh. “Dimethandrolone undecanoate?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied, relieved not to have had to wrap his tongue around that particular mouthful. “What’s so funny?”
“Don’t you look at the bottles that you have to open every morning and take with breakfast?” she asked him.
“This is a vitamin?” he asked, squinting once again at the bottle. There were a whole host of supplements they needed to take because they weren’t ingesting or exposed to them on this alien planet, as well as other compounds that the doctors wanted them to take to fight the effects of low or no gravity – substances to help preserve bone strength, eye function, muscle repair and growth. Each morning as they sat down to eat, they ingested a veritable candy dish worth of pharmaceuticals. He glanced up to find her smiling at him.
“It’s your birth control, Mulder,” she said with a smirk.
He gave her a look and she leaned over and picked up another bottle. “And mine,” she went on. “I think this contains the whole reproductive health suite.”
“Well,” said Mulder, hoping to regain some of his dignity, and perhaps the conversational upper hand, “I hope to put it to good and frequent use.”
“Count on it, flyboy,” she said.
37 notes · View notes
clone-lover · 1 year
Text
Master List
Discord✨
All x reader!!
🔥 smut
🌻fluff
🌧️angst
Headcannons:
Waterfall showers (Tbb boys + Rex and Boba Fett)
Echo:
Bioluminescent Water 🌻🌧️🔥
A Tang of Blood 🌧️
Repairs🔥
Tech:
Paranoia on Umbara pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 🌻🌧️
I remember when I met bad batch's combat technician
Crosshair:
Happy Birthday 🌻
Med Surge 🌻
The reunion 🌻🌧️
Keepin' Warm 🌻🌧️
Rex:
The space around us: pt.1 🌧️
Hunter:
Shattered 🌧️
Something to drink
Interruptions: 🔥
Episode 1 Crosshair x GN Reader
Episode 2 Captain Tukk x GN Reader
26 notes · View notes
p-artsypants · 4 months
Text
Paint it Black (12) Peeking
Ao3 | FF.net
“What are you?”
“A tool.”
“For who?”
“My master.”
“Are you good or bad?”
“I am evil.”
—-
Black awoke, sore and aching. His head pulsed, surges of pain on his temples. The clock at the bedside read 2:15. It was far too early to be up and bothering his friends. But this pain would not be relieved any time soon. He wouldn’t be sleeping again tonight. 
Had he taken his medication? He must have. They had gotten so good at giving it to him with breakfast and dinner. 
But he couldn’t remember. 
That wasn’t uncommon. His memory was always pretty garbage, even with more recent events. Honestly, it made him feel a little guilty. 
He rose, not bothering to get dressed. He just wore those gray sweatpants that were warm and comfortable despite the healing cuts on his legs. 
He wandered out into the hall, listening for any noise in the tower. It was stoney quiet, and he felt like he was disturbing the peace just by breathing. 
Distantly, he thought he heard someone singing, though he wasn’t sure. 
“I'm lost, I'm a ghost. Dispossessed, taken host. My hunger burns a bullet hole. A specter of my mortal soul.”
Quietly, he wandered. He knew his medicine was in the med bay, but it was locked up to keep him from abusing it. He couldn’t take any without bothering someone. 
And he just didn’t feel like doing that. 
Yesterday, they had bravely delved into that forbidden place from his early days. Even now, glimmers came to him, though he tried very earnestly to pretend like it never happened. It was hard, though. Especially with the scar on his face. There was no ignoring that. There was no wishing it away. 
It happened. It all happened. 
He needed a distraction. Just for a few hours, he needed something to occupy his mind and give him rest. 
That’s how he found himself in front of Robin’s room. 
Another forbidden place, where entering was like acknowledging something he didn’t want to. 
This was his room. At least, that’s what they kept telling him. 
Maybe, just maybe, entering it would give him a reason to try. Maybe, Robin really was as great as they said, and maybe he did want to be him. 
The door slid open with a swoosh, and he blacked out. 
Cyborg’s charge completed. He rose and looked at the time with a yawn. 
It was 5 in the morning. 
All this drama with Robin’s case had severely messed up his charging schedule. 
“Oh well. Might as well get up and get started.” He stretched, his robotic parts popping and whirling. 
He went to the ops room, prepared to make breakfast. But he wasn’t alone. 
Starfire sat at the table, just the floor lights on. She looked miserable, but had a mug in front of her. One of Robin’s capes rested on her shoulders.
“Star?” 
“Good morning Cyborg,” she greeted, wearily. “Are you up early this morning?” 
“Yeah. All done charging. What about you? You wake up early, but not before sunrise.” 
“I was…awakened. A visage of horror in my sleep. A nightmare, I think you call them.”
“Yeah,” Cyborg sat with her. “Everyone’s been having them. I’m surprised Raven and Beast Boy aren’t here too. They saw even more than I did.” 
“I saw the photos Raven took,” she brought her knees up. “They were disturbing.”
“That’s an understatement.” 
“I find it hard to express the feeling I have in your language. In Tamaranean, it would be ‘Zarnek’ which roughly means ‘a feeling of a sun burning with cold fire in your stomach’.” She sighed, and took a sip of her drink. “I have made Earthen hot chocolate, though it is not as good as Robin’s. When I first came here, all of the world was strange and I was lost. I lived in Robin’s apartment before the tower was built. Every night, he would make me hot chocolate, and we would watch the television. He never got angry with me for asking so many questions during the programs. He actually encouraged me to do so. The hot chocolate makes me think of him.”  
“I didn’t know all that.” He offered a smile. “He took pretty good care of you, didn’t he?”
Starfire just nodded. Then she held up her communicator, which he realized she had been staring at in her lap since he walked in. On the screen was one of the photos Raven took, where Robin had written her name on the wall. 
“He was thinking about you,” Cyborg offered with a smile. “You were special to him. And I think he wrote that because he didn’t want to forget you.” 
“In my nightmare,” she began, “he was in that room, and that body they saw was trying to eat him, like in the horror movies that Beast Boy enjoys. Robin was calling out to me, begging me to save him, but I could not find him. I saw him, but I could not reach him.” 
“That is a very scary dream,” Cyborg nodded. “But, it was just a dream. Robin is home. He’s sick and needs help, but he’s safe.” 
“I have been…praying for him.” 
Cyborg tilted his head, unsure if he heard her right. “Praying?” 
“Yes. When Pastor Jim Baker returned yesterday, we spoke. I asked if he could provide me with the guidance he often gives the members of his church. He said to be patient and calm with Robin, to listen to what he says and not argue with him. Merely meeting him halfway and gently coaxing him into the truth will be more helpful than trying to force him into something he does not want to do. Then he said if I was ever unsure what to do, I could pray for him to God, as God likes hearing from everyone, even if we do not worship him.” 
“Can’t hurt,” Cyborg nodded. “Pastor had some good advice. I might have to remember that too. I’ve gotten angry with Black a few too many times, and I’m sure it’s not helping.” 
“I have as well. I do not like this persona. Not when I know how good Robin is.” 
The door swooshed open, and Cyborg and Starfire turned to greet their fellow teammate who had woken up early from restless sleep. 
But instead, Black stood there, bracing himself against the doorframe. 
“Speak of the devil,” Cyborg smirked. “You okay, man?” 
Black grunted as he took a slow step forward. He swayed to one side as he let go. 
“Whoa! What’s wrong?” Cyborg and Starfire got to their feet. 
“...I…it…it hurts…” he gritted out, taking two staggering steps closer. 
In the low light, it wasn’t immediately obvious, but now that they were closer, they could see the dark veins standing out. 
“Oh my God, we didn’t give you any meds yesterday! No wonder! Starfire, take him to the couch!” 
Starfire rushed to Black, scooping him up in her arms. She flew him to sit on the couch while Cyborg fled to get the medicine. 
“Fear not, Black. We shall have the medicine soon, and the pain will subside.” 
“...n-no…” He groaned, curling his fingers into the leather of the couch. “...not…not yet.” 
“I do not understand. You do not want your medicine?” 
He clenched his eyes shut as pain racked through his body, but he did not cry out. His body jerked awkwardly and involuntarily. “...I have…I have to tell you…” 
“Tell me what, friend?” 
His trembling and feverish hand reached out and touched her face. He looked at her, his eyes laser focused, full of emotion. He opened his mouth to speak, but his breath stuttered and his words caught in his throat. 
“I’m back!” Cyborg returned. He rushed to grab a glass of water, and brought it over to them. “Here you go, buddy.” Cyborg placed the pill in his hand and closed his fingers around it. 
Black shook his head, frantic. 
“What? This is what you need,” Cyborg urged, bringing his hand up to his face. 
“He was trying to tell me something,” Starfire said firmly. 
Black dropped the pill on the ground and placed that hand on Starfire’s face as well, his thumb resting just below her ear.
Cyborg prepared to intervene, but didn’t stop him. 
Black leaned in, pulling Starfire towards him as well until their foreheads bumped together. He breathed harshly, the air crackling in his chest. His mouth pulled into a grimace, and a few tears leaked from his eyes. 
Cyborg rested a hand on his back as he knelt next to him. 
Starfire returned the hold, touching his burning hot face gently. “I am here. It shall be alright.” 
His lips moved with a tremor, but then he spoke, just a whisper, “it’s me.” 
Starfire nodded, encouraging him. “Yes, Black?”
“I…it’s me, Star...” 
“I know.” She petted the back of his head. 
“Star…Star…Star…I’m here…I’m here…” he sobbed. 
Realization came slowly, but her eyes widened, glistening with tears. “...Robin?” 
Cyborg stared in awe, his jaw dropping. 
“I’m…I’m so sorry…” he cried. Another wave of agony rushed through his body, from head to toe. He cried out, “I’m sorry!” 
“Robin!” Starfire pressed a fierce kiss to his cheek. “There is nothing to be sorry for, my dear Robin! I am just happy you are back to normal!” 
“...’m not…” he winced. He held his breath as his flesh burned. “...th-the medicine…” 
“What about the medicine?” Cyborg asked, his own eyes watering. 
“...I don’t…know what…how…but Black…is complete…” He outright screamed in pain, pulling away from Starfire.
In turn, she pulled Robin to rest against her chest, hugging his arms close so he wouldn’t thrash.  
“Should we stop giving you the opioids? Is that what you’re saying?” 
Robin shook his head. “...will die without…” 
Starfire buried her face in his hair, now crying in earnest. 
“But with the medicine, you become Black…” Cyborg finished. 
“...yes…yes…” 
Cyborg picked up the pill. “Okay. Then you’re going to take your medicine, and you're going to turn into Black. And we’re going to figure out how to fix this.” 
Robin started coughing, a trickle of black fluid drooling out of the corner of his mouth. 
“We’re out of time,” Cyborg decided, and held the pill up to Robin’s face. 
He took it in his mouth, begrudgingly, and then swallowed some water provided. 
He closed his eyes, the pain still a violent storm inside him. It would take about ten minutes at least before it started working. 
He wrapped a hand around Starfire’s arm. “Star…Star…Star…” 
“I am here, Robin. I have got you.” 
“...I hear you…I see you…I can…I can…” 
“While you’re Black?” Cyborg asked. 
“Yes…yes…yes…” he sobbed. “Thank you…thank you…” 
“Whatever it takes,” Cyborg vowed, squeezing his shoulder. “We’ll save you. I promise.” 
Robin continued to cry then, but leaned into the comfort of snuggling in Starfire’s arms. 
She continued to hold him, basically in her lap, and ran her fingers through his hair. 
Cyborg rubbed his back gently, just a slow back and forth. 
Slowly but surely, the dark veins faded, as did his cries. He hiccuped a few times, and then looked up to them with cloudy eyes. 
“Mmmm what did I do to get boob therapy?” 
Cyborg shook his head with a tight smile as he stood up. 
Starfire let him go, making him sit up on the couch. “You had not taken your medicine, and were in a lot of pain.” 
“Ooooh yeah. That makes sense. I woke up a while ago in hurtsies but I didn’t want to bother anyone.” 
“Black, I do not wish to see you in pain. Please do not hesitate to wake me,” Starfire insisted. 
“Sowwy,” he giggled, sticking out his tongue. “Hey, why you cryin’?” 
Starfire bravely wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Like I said, I do not like seeing you in pain.” 
“Well, I heard that crying makes your skin blotchy, so don’t do that.” 
“I shall try not to.” 
—-
Later that morning, when Beast Boy and Raven finally arrived in the ops room, Cyborg and Starfire shared what they had witnessed that morning. Meanwhile, Black laid upside down, by the window, singing. 
“Who's in a bunker? Who's in a bunker? I have seen too much, I haven't seen enough, you haven't seen it. I'll laugh until my head comes off. Women and children first and children first, and children.” 
“I made sure to send a message to Batman,” said Cyborg. “Maybe Robin can tell us who is behind this, but he might not be able to communicate. The conversation this morning was very vague.” 
“I’m thrilled you spoke to him,” Raven said, a small smile on her face. “But I’m heartbroken that he’s…basically trapped.” 
“It’s gotta be rough,” Beast Boy looked over to Black, who seemed oblivious to them. 
He sang in a bad falsetto, “Here, I'm allowed everything all of the time. Here, I'm allowed everything all of the time.”
“What song is that?” Raven asked. 
“I think it’s pronounced ‘Idioteque’. I don’t think there’s any secret messages there.” 
“Black?” Starfire called out. “Do you know that you are singing?”
“I’m just watching the birdies!” He called back, and then sang, “We're not scaremongering. This is really happening, happening.”
Beast Boy shivered. “Sometimes he just gives me the willies!” 
The door to the ops room swooshed open, and for a second, no one thought anything about it. But then they realized they were all present at the table, so then who—?
A figure in all black stood at the door, his cape nearly covering him. An older gentleman stood next to him, wearing a suit. 
“Batman!” Cyborg greeted awkwardly, stumbling to his feet. 
“Hope you don’t mind that I let myself in,” Batman said calmly. 
“Not at all!” Said Beast Boy, also tripping over himself in the presence of THE Batman. “¡Mi casa es su casa!” 
“I paid for this house, so yes, it is.” 
Black got to his feet, smiling widely. “Bunny man!” He cried happily. 
Batman just shifted his jaw before answering, “...and Easter came early this year.” 
Black ran full throttle and leapt at Batman, throwing his arms and legs around him like a koala bear. 
Batman, ever stalwart and unbothered by most lunatics, just caught Black and held him against his hip like a toddler. 
“I received your message this morning,” Batman said, like he wasn’t holding a teenager like a baby. “I’m glad you found a way to get through to him, but we’ll try to keep that to a minimum, since the risk to his health is so great.”
“Uh…okay.” 
He turned to the man next to him. “Alfred, these are Robin’s friends: Cyborg, Beast Boy, Raven, and Starfire. Titans, this is Alfred, my butler and a very trusted member of our team. He practically raised me, and mostly raised Dick as well.” 
“Pleased to meet you all. Master Dick has talked highly of you all in his emails.” He had the faintest smile on his face, while remaining completely professional. “I will have you all know I will not tolerate excessive pizza consumption during my stay, and will be cooking the meals.” 
“Um…” Beast Boy squeaked. “That’s very nice of you, but I’m a vegetarian…” 
“I'm aware. Master Dick has shared several anecdotes about your and Cyborg's arguments over tofu.” 
“Duuuude! You tattled on me to your grandpa? Not cool.” 
Black ignored him. “I don’t eat processed meat.” 
Alfred raised a brow. “Since when? You love ham.” 
“Since…forever, I guess.” 
“Tell them why,” Raven insisted. 
Black scoffed. “It’s because I don’t want to accidentally eat human meat. Is that so odd?” 
Batman frowned, but didn’t answer. 
“Please, you have traveled a long way. Would you like to place your bags in your rooms?” Starfire asked, being hospitable. “We have one other room, but perhaps, Mr. Batman, you would not mind staying in Robin’s room?” 
“Let me check,” he shifted Black on his hip. “Robin, may I stay in your room?”
Black blew a raspberry at him. Then, he hugged his neck and obnoxiously sang, “Hey maaaaaaaaaan, sloooooow down! Slow down! Idiooooooooooot, slow down! Slow down!”
“He says no. But I will anyway.” 
Black pouted. “I want down!” 
Batman practically dropped him. 
“Uh…” Began Beast Boy. “What was that?” 
“You were the one that discovered his code of Radiohead songs. I’ve been listening to the discography since you told me.” 
“Uh, my playlist is like 10 hours long.” 
“It’s a long drive from Gotham City.” 
“Okay. So…” 
“Cyborg mentioned Robin said this morning that he can hear and see us. I think he might be trying to communicate using those songs.” 
“That would indeed make quite a lot of sense!” Said Starfire. “I have asked him several times what song he is singing, and he says he, in fact, was not singing.” 
They all looked over at Black who was staring at Alfred. 
“There is much to go over. I watched the rest of the videos. I know the who, why, and potentially the how.” 
“You know The Who? Can you get me an autograph?” Black chirped. 
“They don’t do autographs,” Batman said easily. “But for now, I would like to take a look at his room and office.” 
“I will show you,” Starfire offered, leading him and Alfred out to the hall. 
Black plopped on the floor, cross legged and pouting. 
—-
When they arrived at Robin’s room, Starfire activated the door. 
But it did not look the same from the last time she’d been in. 
It was trashed. All the drawers and cabinets were opened and the contents spilled out on the floor. The closet was opened and every uniform was flung about. 
“Oh no!” Starfire shrieked. “When did this happen?!” 
Batman walked in, examining the carnage. “I’m sure it has something to do with our friend.” 
“But he would not! Would he?” 
“Doesn’t look like anything was actually destroyed, just tossed around. That’s probably why he didn’t want me going into his room.” Batman started picking up uniforms and throwing them on the mattress, to be hung later. As he went, he studied the contents of the room. Plenty of weapons, documents, books, and a random assortment of things one picks up from living in one place for a few years.  
“Oh,” Starfire said sadly. “The photo from this frame is missing,” she noted, standing by his bedside table. 
“Do you know what it was?”
“No. He did not let us in here very often.” 
Alfred began to hang the uniforms up, not saying a word. 
“Robin was—is a very private person. We all kept our secrets, but he was a little more withdrawn. I believe it was to protect you,” Starfire said, quietly. 
“Very possible,” he stated as he set a stack of comic books on the desk. “My civilian name is very well known. And Richard is my adopted son. With his name, one would easily find out who I was. I don’t think it was a matter of him not trusting you, but his obligation to me.” He collected a handful of birdarangs. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is his mental state. A lot of secrets will probably come to light.” Then he looked at Starfire intently. “I think you will be instrumental in his healing.” 
“I shall? But I do not possess any healing abilities like Raven.” 
“You are important to him. The Titans are like a second family for him, and this is the ideal environment for him. But Starfire, he knew you depended on him. That bond will be particularly strong. If he believed no one needed him, he would not fight to come back.” 
Starfire took a deep breath and stood straight. “Tell me what you would ask of me, and I shall do it.”
5 notes · View notes
blindedbythedarkness · 4 months
Text
Dear future me
It's New Years Eve 2023 right now, and I feel sad thinking about all the NYEs that have come before. For a few years, I saw in the new year via zoom with 2 close friends and we chatted well past midnight. This year, I haven't spoken to one of those friends in 6 months, and the other seems so distracted with their own things. And I know I certainly won't be able to stay up until midnight, I'll be pushing it after 9pm.
This year has been long and hard. I'm proud of myself for everything I've achieved, but it's not been without almost constant struggle. I smashed my med school exams, lived at the hospital for 6 months whilst on placement, and then was ultimately infected with SARS-COV2. That left me with worsened autonomic dysfunction, CCI, generalised hyperinflammation and neuroinflammation. And that sucks.
After making the most of Christmas, yesterday I spent the day horizontal in bed all day, save for eating and going to the toilet. I have a list of things I need to do, and a longer list of things I want to do, but I had to write off the whole lot. Again. Today, though there's a little improvement, I'd still say I feel like shit warmed up.
The world right now doesn't feel much more positive either. Covid JN1 is surging, and despite renewed recommendations from the WHO for healthcare facilities to bring back masks, the UKHSA is dragging its feet. There's no doubt anymore that they're not following the science. They get away with it though, as no lawyers are willing to fight the case (as I have found, time and again).
Everyone is ill with "the worst cold ever". There's so many stories about young people dropping dead. But people refuse to connect the dots, or connect them wrong and blame the vaccine. Public Health has abandoned us all to eugenics.
The final result? I dread going to visit my nearly 90 year old gran next month as either one of us could infect the other and finish them off. I know if I don't go though, I'll feel endlessly guilty (and be endlessly guilted). I live in a constant state of high stress.
This time last year, I don't think I had high hopes for 2023. I figured it would get worse before it gets better, but 2024 might see improvements. I was certainly right that it's got worse, but I'm less certain next year will be better- the world is so stubborn and unwilling to open its eyes. I think maybe by 2025? But who knows, maybe that's what I'll say now for every year of my life. Always "maybe the next year, maybe the next year".
Either way, I hope for me personally I'm in a better place by next New Year's. I hope my long covid is vastly improved and that I'm back on placement and coping well. I also hope I haven't been reinfected and I'm managing to stand my ground on any issues people take with me keeping myself safe. I hope that I am more hopeful.
That's all I will say for now, as honestly just writing this has tired me out! But me, I love you, you're doing the best you can and its a damn sight better than a lot of people. You can do this. Keep going. It's a marathon not a sprint.
C
3 notes · View notes
whmp · 4 months
Text
in case you're just here for the good stuff, i'll be tagging my personal ramblings as #whmpersonal so you can avoid em BUT this is tangentially related to the game project i'm working on, so stick around i guess? tl;dr: i'll probably make a more coherent post where I ask ppl for help (especially artists). also, i'll be more attentive and answer your asks faster, hopefully. : )
anyway, after a bit of a "review" of my creative process (and i guess my uhh way of living in general?) i've noticed that it's a huge clusterfuck. and that it has been since i was a kid. without some external pressure or an imposed structure (like deadlines, parents or strongly worded emails) i just sort of relied on random surges of productivity to carry me through life. on one hand, it's kinda fun: most of the time i'm not doing anything valuable and then all of a sudden i condense weeks worth of work into several sleepless days during which i feel like An Immortal Unstoppable God. lighting bolts shoot from my fingertips, my eyes glow in the dark, and my caffeine-to-blood volume ratio is hovering around 1.
unfortunately, it's not really sustainable. the "not doing anything valuable" stage that takes up most of my time is not me just chilling. it's me freaking the fuck out about not doing anything despite wanting to and finding myself just. not able to. not to mention that some things just need minor, but constant maintenance - at best i'd just forget about them and face the consequences later on. at worst i'd be acutely aware of them while procrastinating, clueless as to what's wrong with me.
couple that with a couple other unhealthy habits, a microscopic attention span and wow, i fit like all the criteria for adhd. i gotta admit i was super sceptical at first when doing any research, since, well. how the fuck am i even supposed to gain any unbiased insight into this. anyway, i spent a stupid amount of money on an official diagnosis (seriously why is this not covered by insurance gsygx), it took a million meetings and tests and i get a piece of paper that says i have add and deserve some medication.
this has also made me realize that i'm spread out super thin when it comes to projects. i love every single one of them, but im going to have to be a bit more realistic in terms of what can remain in "when it's done" limbo and what needs a bit of a push. the whump game is unique in that it's not just me who wants this to eventually get released. so! what this means is that it needs a proper, project structure. not a .txt on my desktop where i keep a backlog of missing features. but must important of all, it needs ~*people*~. this is the first time i took a step back and estimated how much time everything would take me and yeahhhh i was being very optimistic when i said "playable build in 2023" lol. i've been hesitant to ask for help bc 1. i'm stubborn : ) 2. im bad at coordinating stuff 3. i can't pay ppl - like seriously, there is one person making a model for me (if you're reading this sorry i didn't ask if you want a tag but this is just a personal post where i keep yapping) and it's looking so clean and professional,,, you gotta sell this as an asset.
HOWEVER im getting past the mentality of "i gotta do as much as i can by myself". and also taking meds so that im able to focus on tasks (both gamedev-related and others) and actually pay attention to what im doing. which is great news for development! and answering asks! ill be making a dev post where i tag all the ppl and will also ask for help.
that's it. im on a train rn and bored out of my mind so this is why this post exists, sorry. anyway check out this screenshot of a moment in clone high that i relate to deeply.
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes