#breathing tube holder

[icu-fetish]

O Tempo Não Para - Marocas in coma

#intubated #breathing tube #ventilator #breathing tube holder

[anesthesialover-ken]

#intubated #intubation #ventilator #breathing tube #breathing tube holder #hospital gown #hospital

[daysofyellowroses]

peanut butter

carmen berzatto x reader | 1.8k | prompt was: a carmyxreader where r is really struggling with getting regular things done with their ADHD & Carmy takes a day off for them to body double and be there while she does their tasks as requested by @thecapricunt1616 - i hope you like this!

disclaimer: i do not personally have ADHD, so i can't write from personal experience, but from research and what I've learned from friends with ADHD, i hope this is a respectful and accurate portrayal!

🐻

The alarm going off on your nightstand had you flinging your arm over your eyes as you rolled onto your back. Alarms on a weekend should be illegal, really. Once the alarm tone started looping back around, you slowly rolled over to grab your phone, tapping at the screen a few times before finally turning the alarm off with a swipe.

You took a deep breath before slowly getting out of bed, yawning as you stretched your arms. The sunlight streaming in through the window made the room brighter if not warmer, you rubbed your arms a little as you made your way to the bathroom.

The tiles were cold under your feet and you cursed yourself for not grabbing some socks first. You plucked your toothbrush from its holder before sliding open the shower door and leaning in to hit the button.

Once the water started running you went to brush your teeth, looking at your reflection in the mirror and leaning in closer, swiping your thumb over a small bump on your chin. Setting your toothbrush down, you opened the mirror cabinet, rooting around for some acne cream and sighing as you only found an empty tube. You threw it in the trash before closing the mirror and gripping the edge of the sink. 

After a moment you turned off the shower, going into the kitchen and turning on the radio, the sound of music filling the kitchen. Searching the cabinets, you managed to find the last of a leaf of bread, popping two slices onto the toaster. 

You went to the refrigerator, taking the pen that was connected to the notepad stuck on the door. Your eyes fell on the photo strip tucked beside it, smiling as you looked at the pictures of you and Carmy pulling stupid faces, laughing, and kissing in the last one. You two had gone to an amusement park with Richie and Eva, and when you spotted the photo booth you couldn't resist tugging Carmy inside. 

Opening the refrigerator, you looked inside it for a moment, turning your head as you heard the toaster pop. You went to take out the toast, leaving it on the counter as you got a plate, dropping the toast onto it before wiping your hands and going to your bedroom to grab your phone.

You opened it up to a flurry of notifications, sitting down on your bed and taking a breath as you read them. 

Go to the gym! Grocery run! Pay car insurance! Do laundry!

You held your phone tightly in your hand, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to organize your thoughts, all of them getting tangled in your mind and blaring like neon signs. Taking a deep breath, you looked down at your phone and cleared the notifications from the screen, bringing up Carmy's number and hitting the call button.

It almost seemed like he wasn't going to reply when you got a response, silence for a moment before a tired “Hello?”

“Hey,” You smiled softly, picking at invisible thread on your pajamas. “It's me, I'm sorry if I woke you up, I'm not sure what time it is.."

“You didn't wake me up, baby,” Carmy's voice is low and soft in your ear and you feel yourself begin to relax. “I promise. I've been awake for a while, down at the restaurant trying to get stuff done without cousin in my ear.”

In the background you heard a ‘I fuckin’ heard that!’, which made you laugh.

“How is everything over there?” You asked, your thumb gently sweeping over your nails. “Are you okay?”

“It's fine, yeah,” Carmy replied, hesitation in his tone you decided not to comment on. “I'm..I'm good, how are you?”

“I'm-”

‘Oh, fuck me!’

“I'm okay,” murmured softly, resting your fist on your thigh and closing your eyes. “You're busy, you got a lot going on, you don't need me in your ear.”

“Baby don't say that, hang on,” You could hear the bell sound at the door and traffic in the background. “You sure you're okay? You'd tell me if you weren't, right?”

“Right,” You nodded, biting your lip. “It's..I don't know, I'm just really struggling with-”

‘Hey, we need you back in here, Carm. ASAP.’

You could hear Carmy's deep sigh on the other end and your heart ached.

“You're needed there,” You smiled half-heartedly. “I'll see you later..I love you.”

You hung up the phone before Carmy could respond, falling back onto your bed with a groan.

Just under an hour later, you opened your eyes as you heard a knock at the front door. You hadn't planned to fall asleep but apparently your body decided you needed a nap. Getting up from your bed, you smoothed out your pajamas and made your way to the front door, opening it up and raising a brow as you saw Carmy standing on the other side.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too,” Carm rolled his eyes with a grin, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist, your falling around his neck. 

“Hi,” You murmured softly, closing your eyes and burying your nose in your boyfriend's hair. “I just didn't expect to see you until later, that's all.”

“I figured I'm owed a day off,” Carmy murmured softly, gently stroking your back before he gently pulled away and placed his hand on your cheek. “I had a feeling I was needed elsewhere.”

You leaned into his touch, letting out a breath. 

“I'm just having one of those days. I really didn't mean for you to drop everything.”

“I know,” Carmy smiled softly, leaning in to give you a kiss before stepping into your apartment and closing the door. “But everything is under control, Syd and Sug know what they're doing, and I don't want to be anywhere but here with you.”

You couldn't keep the smile off your face, pulling Carmy in for another kiss.

“You're wonderful,” You whispered softly, your hands resting on his chest. “just in case I don't tell you enough.”

“I don't mind hearing it,” Carmy grinned, gently tugging at the hem of your t-shirt. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Uh..no,” You replied, slightly distracted by Carm's large hand moving under your t-shirt to your bare waist. “I made toast but..I never ate it.”

Carmy smiled as he gently stroked your waist, stepping closer to you so your bodies were flushed together. 

“Why don't you go have a nice relaxing shower, and I'm gonna make you breakfast.”

“I have barely any food in the house,” You sighed softly, resting your arms around Carmy's neck. “I need to go food shopping, and do laundry, and..”

“Hey,” Carmy murmured softly, gently stroking your waist. “Don't worry about any of that right now. All you need to do is go have that relaxing shower, right?”

“Okay,” You nodded, gently stroking Carm's cheek. “I will.”

The shower was indeed relaxing, you took your time and wondered what Carmy could possibly cook from the remnants of your fridge. He always seemed to be able to make something from nothing, you loved that about him. Once you had showered and brushed your teeth you made your way to your bedroom, picking out your clothes.

Just knowing Carmy was in your apartment made you feel more at ease. Every time he came over, you felt calm and relaxed, he was a soothing presence even when you knew that he had his own stress and worries. He never complained or moaned about his own issues, even though you always told him he could, encouraged him to talk to you about anything. But you realized that he wasn't not telling you things because he didn't want to or he didn't trust you, he wanted the time he spent with you to be an escape from all those other things.

You wondered if the two of you were to live together if Carmy would open up more to you, if your place wasn't just an escape for him. You pushed the thought aside, getting dressed and grabbing your phone before heading into the kitchen.

“It smells amazing in here,” You smiled, resting your phone on the table. “It usually smells of smoke after I've been in here.”

“That's why you got me,” Carmy smiled, walking over to the table and setting a plate down. “Coffee is nearly ready.”

“Oh wow,” You smiled, looking down at the plate. It was scrambled eggs with little bits and pieces from the fridge, your abandoned toast reheated and cut up beside it. “This is so great, thank you.”

As you sat down, Carmy placed a mug down by your plate before sitting down himself with a mug.

“Anytime baby,” He took a sip of coffee, watching you for a moment with a smile. “So what's on the list for today?”

You held your fork in mid air, picking up your phone and handing it to Carmy before taking a bite of breakfast. 

“Let's see,” Carm smiled, opening your phone and checking your calendar. “This doesn't look so bad, we can do this.”

“You don't have to,” You insisted, picking up your mug. “If you don't feel like it.”

“I want to,” Carmy smiled. “You can do all this, I know you can, but I'm happy to do it all with you.”

And he does.

After breakfast, he cleans the kitchen while you organize your laundry. You tell him about work when you take the laundry down to the ground floor of your building and load into the washing machine. He tells you about the latest developments in the restaurant when you're in the grocery store. He picks out some things “for when I make you dinner” and your heart swells.

Back at your apartment, you unpack the bags and laugh as Carmy tells you the latest mishaps from work. You go downstairs and transfer the laundry to the dryer, ending up sitting on the machine with Carmy between your legs, kissing you like you're teenagers again.

You pay your car insurance, you clean your apartment, you fold your laundry, and put it away. 

Carmy gets a call he has to take, and you worry your little domestic bubble will burst, and your mind will be tangled knots and neon signs once more.

“All good,” Carmy smiles as he comes back into the kitchen. “What's next on the list?”

“Let me check,” You smile, picking up your phone and checking. “Hm..just the gym. I'll go get changed.”

“If you want,” Carmy nods, walking closer to you with a grin. “Or..you could just have a workout at home.”

You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, letting out an excited squeak as you are picked up, your legs wrapping around Carmy's waist. 

“Lead the way.”

#the bear #the bear 🐻 #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear fics #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #request

[katz-chow]

always there

synopsis: johnny takes care of you after you donated blood 🏷| gn!reader, blood donation, ambiguous relationship, fainting, cheesy

a/n: donated blood and didn’t feel good right after. father figure to the rescue right after and now i’m just trudging on thru the trenches. this one's short, sorry. but it's still prompt 11! @glitterypirateduck

during college, you made it a routine to give blood consistently. either whole blood, platelets, or plasma, you also found yourself the victim of many pin pricks, much like a sewing holder.

this time around was no different. except you had forgotten all about the appointment and hadn’t noticed until that morning.

breakfast was forgotten about as you continued to drive to the store, preparing for the next week. until a text notification pinged on your phone, mounted on the car dash.

your eyes widen as you got to the store with more urgency, determined to finish shopping before the appointment time came. it ended great as you hurried home, checking your phone periodically to see if any of your friends are available to drive you home from the blood bank.

to no avail, you frown but got ready to go anyway. you filled your cold water bottle and left the house, driving silently to the medical center.

as soon as you got in, everything went fine. you hardly looked at your phone and instead had watched the screen playing some action movie. over to your right arm , the tubing was dark and crimson with blood at as it filled the blood pouch rocking back and forth.

the phlebotomist came and checked your arm, blood flowing slowly and thick from your lack of fluid and food in your system. you sighed as you felt the blood escape from you, instantaneously tired and woozy.

“clever body, how fascinating…” you say to yourself as the machine next to you beep uncontrollably. lifting your head up to look at it, you felt your body freeze over like ice and your eyes rolled back.

next thing you know, you’re laying limp on the chair as the phlebotomists crowd around you, checking vitals, calling your name, and icing you down.

you respond weakly and gave a thumbs up. your heart thundered in your ears as you feel the large gauge needle being pulled out of your arm and bandages being wrapped around. however, you blinked a few times, feeling for sure that your eyes were indeed open, you started to panic as your vision fly away from you.

“hey, hey it’s okay. your eyes are still rolled back, it’s okay.” one voice rang out, breathless and on your right.

another voice rang out on your left side and you turned your head over to her as cold sweats fell from your body. “is there someone we can call?”

you nodded and slowly reached for your phone in your lap, pulling it out and handing it to the empty space in front of you as you laid limp against the reclined chair. “john mactavish…”

your breathing felt heavy and labored as they continued to cool you down. your eyelids were closed now and your movements slow, trying to prevent another fainting spell.

light entered through your eyelids and you slowly opened your eyes, your stomach growling in hunger. the phlebotomists look at you, judgmentally, side glances at you.

you groan and look at the clock to the side, embarassed by how loud your stomach is and how the fake-nice healthcare workers treat you with. you were treading on their lunch hour, which is why you were treated as such.

there’s a certain different type of weighting shame that comes with giving blood and the aftermath. how weak you feel, how ill prepared you are, and the fact that it seems like no one wants you here at all. well one person does, as a kind older woman drops off a sympathetic bag of chips.

you give her a weak smile, not much you can do other than just sit there and just try and get better. at some point you don’t even remember why you're still sitting there, legs up and an instant ice pack placed on your forehead.

"there you are hen, got your call." a familiar voice calls out to you as you tilt your head up just a bit, following the sound of the voice. a handsome scotsman faces you with a weak smile. almost instantly, a boost of energy rushes through you and you sit up quickly and push yourself to the edge of the chair.

"hi, johnny...i'm sorry you have to be here." you mumbled to him as you let him wrap an arm over you and help you up.

"can you walk?" he asks gently, grabbing your purse and nodding a curt goodbye to the workers there as he guides you out and into his car.

you, feeling quite a little a lot of a loser, shook him off and proceeded to walk out and towards your car, "i can take myself home, johnny. it's okay, i can drive..."

johnny, taking none of your nonsense, proceeded to catch up to you, like it was hard, and blocked you from your path. you looked up at him, and grumbled something while pushing him gently away. "i don't want to bother you anymore than i need to."

he frowned at this silly statement you put out as you continue to push on his chest. he chuckled a bit at your weak attempts, clearly not feeling well as the sun makes your face scrunch up and your punches are not as hard as he knows they can be. "i'll take care of you, okay? we'll get food on the way and you can stay at my place."

he looked at you and brushed your hair away from your forehead. "don't fight it. i'm right here"

indeed you were when you're sitting on his counter top, watching as he makes you dinner. the music blared through his speaker as you scroll through your phone, searching for a movie to watch.

suddenly, bored of your search, you looked up and saw his backside. how the cotton of his tshirt stretched over his muscles so nicely, how with every movement, you saw his muscles contract and pull, beckoning you to come closer.

he felt you staring and he turned his head back from the stove just a bit, catching your glance with a wink. you huffed out a shy laugh and continued to scroll through your phone.

you see his turn to you, thinking he needed to get something next to you. instead, you see his get closer to you and cage you in with his arms against the counter top next to you. you peak up from behind your phone and look at him, a grin on his face. "stop looking at me."

"i'm not..." you replied, hiding your face behind your phone.

he laughed and leaned closer to you, both his palms held your cheeks now, opting to squeeze and feel how soft they were. "don't lie, to me bonnie."

you blushed, not knowing what to say. you put down your phone next to you, your hands running along his forearms and then resting them upon the back of his, still on your cheeks. "thanks for being there for me."

he chuckled at you and kissed your forehead gently, yet a bit longer than anyone would, savoring it. "i told you, i'll always be there for ya."

master list | letter box | main directory

drop by the letter box!

#katzwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #fanfic #captain john mactavish #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x fem reader #soap x you #johnny soap mactavish #johnnys #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mctavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soapitup

[hqbaby]

twenty-eight — maybe

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.7k content. swearing, sadness

You fell in love with Suna on a Tuesday morning. And he broke your heart on a Wednesday afternoon.

You woke up in his bed for the first time. Things between the two of you were new… and also not. You’d known him for more than half a year already, having met him in an elective you took the first semester of your freshman year. 

Things were going well between the two of you, or at least you thought they were.

You stood up and made your way over to the bathroom where you found him, hair all messy and face all groggy as he brushed his teeth. He looked at you through the mirror and nodded.

“Hey,” he said, rinsing his mouth out. He put his toothbrush in the holder and opened a drawer, rummaging through it for a while before he pulled something out and handed it to you. “Here.”

You stared at it. “What’s that?” you asked even if you obviously knew what it was.

“A toothbrush. Duh.”

You rolled your eyes at him, gingerly taking the package. You tried to ignore the way your heart was beating out of your chest at the gesture (he bought you a fucking toothbrush for crying out loud), but there was only so much you could do. You looked completely stunned.

“W-why?” you managed to get out. Fuck, you sounded so pathetic. What did he expect? He blindsided you, did something entirely unexpected.

“Because,” he fidgeted nervously, turning away from you and back at the bathroom mirror, “I don’t wanna make out with someone with morning breath—you owe me 500 yen for that.”

That helped you find your bearings a little. At least he was being playful about it.

“Rin, this is for five-year-olds,” you pointed out, smiling as you noticed the Winnie the Pooh design on the toothbrush.

“Are you five?” he shot back teasingly.

You nudged his shoulder, opening the package and pulling the toothbrush out. “Out of the way, weirdo,” you said, trying to hide the way your smile was growing on your face as you grabbed the tube of toothpaste and squeezed some out onto the bristles.

Before you could even put the toothbrush in your mouth, Suna gently took your face into his hand, pulling you towards him and kissing you.

Somehow, being in that bathroom, barefoot with your face still puffy from sleep, lips pressed against Suna’s, you felt more at peace than you’d ever been.

And maybe you had fallen in love. Just a little.

You wondered if Suna had too.

Maybe things were changing between the two of you. Becoming realer than they were before. Maybe.

The two of you parted ways as you both went to class and resumed your public existence of not really knowing one another. You took notes, talked to friends, ate terrible food, and went to sleep. You lived your life the you always had—except with the little hope growing in you that Suna would one day be a part of it.

He texted you the next morning, asking if you wanted to go out for coffee. You’d never gone out for coffee before. You'd never gone out together.

Of course you had to say yes.

Kiyoko wondered why you were being so weird about picking your clothes that morning. You only had one class anyway, it wasn’t like you had anything special planned. And you wanted to tell her. You wanted to tell her, but you still didn’t know if you could.

When the afternoon came around, you sprinted out of the library and made your way to the coffee shop that Suna had told you about. It was new, he’d been dying to try it out but he never had the chance to.

Now he did.

Now he had the chance to… with you.

You showed up at four o’clock. Just in time.

Just in time.

Just in time—

to see him kissing a girl from the tennis team, his arm wrapped around her waist, the way he always held you.

You watched as the girl walked away. Watched as Suna kept his eyes on her ass as she swayed, her mini skirt leaving nothing to the imagination. Watched as he sat down, pulled out his phone, texted you to ask where you were.

You walked up to him. Smiling as you felt your heart splinter. Smiling as he waved at you. Smiling as he stood up to kiss you.

You could still taste the girl’s sweet cherry lip gloss on him. He hadn’t even bothered to wipe it off.

And maybe your heart had broken. Just a little.

Maybe things were never going to change.

Maybe this was all the two of you would ever be.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” Ayame says, frantically going around her room to put her things away. “The past few days haven’t exactly been the best.”

You chuckle. “I figured,” you tell her, picking up a few wrappers from the ground and placing them in the trash can. You sit down on her bed—you know it’s her bed because it’s the only one that’s unmade—and you pat the spot beside you. “Come sit.”

She shakes her head, collecting the notebooks on her desk. “No, Y/N, it’s really a mess—”

“Sit.”

She glances at you, clearly nervous, and swallows, nodding as she sits down beside you. “W-what is it?” she asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

You frown. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, I don’t know, the whole campus seems to think you’re a slut because of me,” she says. Then she slaps a hand to her mouth. “Oh fuck! I didn’t mean—you’re not a slut! I’m just saying it’s what people have been—wrongfully—saying. Which isn’t true! I know it isn’t! You aren’t. A slut, I mean.”

You watch with an amused expression as she tries to calm herself down. You open the bottle of wine in your hand and hold it out to her. “Here. I think you might need it.”

Ayame’s eyes dart between the bottle and you, the bottle and you, the bottle and—there she goes, taking it and guzzling down as much as she can apparently.

You’re more than glad you stole it from Iwaizumi, even if you know you’re going to pay for it later.

“I really just came to check up on you,” you say when she drops the bottle and holds it out for you. You tip some wine into your mouth and offer her a reassuring smile as you hand the bottle back to her. “How have you been?”

“Oh,” she says, taken aback by your concern. “I’ve—I’ve been okay. I guess.”

You furrow your brows. “You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” You laugh lightly. “Come on. I know people are being horrible.”

Ayame purses her lips and sighs, downing more wine. “Not as horrible as they’re being to you.”

“Yeah. But I’m used to it.”

“But why?”

You shrug. “I stopped caring a while ago.”

“When?”

“A while ago.”

She gives you a look like she doesn’t believe you then grimaces. “Why are you like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like that!” She gestures vaguely towards you. “So fucking unbothered. And perfect.”

You snort. “I’m neither of those things.”

“Sure, but you seem like you are.”

You watch as she stares at you, studying you, trying to figure you out. You know because you’ve done that before, countless times, staring at upperclassmen that you admired, celebrities that you thought were cool, even characters in books and movies that could never possibly be real—trying so hard to be like them.

Unbothered. Perfect. The best that anyone could ever have.

The kind of person you’d always wanted to be. But never were.

“Have you spoken to Suna?” you ask, fiddling with the rings on your fingers.

“No,” she tells you. “Have you?”

“No.”

Ayame nods and pulls her legs up on her bed, leaning against her mountain of pillows. “He really loves you, you know.”

“I know,” you say, looking down. “Do you—”

“No,” she says. “I don’t even like him that way. He just… needed someone and I was the only one around.”

You nod. You figured it was something like that. As much as it pained you to see them together, Suna’s confession had tainted the whole image you had of the two of them.

If anyone’s unbothered and perfect, it’s Ayame, not you. You don’t know if you would have been able to do what she’s done for Suna, been as detached and supportive as she’s been. You probably wouldn’t have even tried.

But you know it’s bound to fuck with her somehow, underneath her cool exterior. All this mess that’s suddenly fallen on her head. It can’t be doing her any good.

That’s why you’re here, offering what little you can.

“What are you going to do?” Ayame asks, frowning. “I wouldn't know what to do if I were you.”

You sigh. “I don’t know either,” you tell her.

The past few days have been bad. As much as you would like to just hole up in Iwaizumi’s apartment, you have classes to go to and training to attend. You don’t have the luxury of time and space—everything is just coming at you in waves.

You wanted to talk to Atsumu, but after you heard about the fight, you didn’t know if that was such a good idea. He was mad, and as mad as you were too, you knew he had his reasons. He wasn’t wrong in believing that Suna’s confession would change something. Maybe if he hadn’t asked Suna to hide it, you wouldn’t have left right then and there, but maybe you would have left eventually.

Maybe.

You won’t ever get the chance to know what you would’ve done. The fact is that the two of you aren’t talking right now, because of Suna or because of Atsumu, you’ll never know for sure. And maybe you deserve that.

“I’m not here to talk about me,” you say eventually, turning to Ayame.

She raises a brow. “Well, you definitely don’t wanna talk about me.”

“Yeah, I do,” you say earnestly. Ignoring the bewildered look on her face, you reach over and place your hand on top of hers. “So, how have you been?”

#hqbaby.fyi #hqbaby #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou fic #suna fic #miya atsumu fic #atsumu fic #haikyuu fic

[florsial]

Micro fic where James is a mob boss and Regulus is the hitman he commissioned.

or, I remembered that cigarette holders were a thing and once again started loving them and wanted Regulus to have one, sooo warning for smoking if you aren't comfortable with that!!

Also I'm not British, I feel the need to clarify that for some reason

. . .

A faint smell of tobacco and a cold breeze greeted James as he entered his room. He locks the door behind him, eyes never leaving the man sitting on the table near the open window, a black cigarette holder pressed against his lips, smoke flowing out in thin strands.

Regulus Black has always been attractive. Black curls, sharp features, and grey eyes held indifference like he wasn't even on the same plane of existence. Even now, the light of the moon only seems to accentuate his features.

"It's done," Regulus says, not looking at him. There is a slight drawl in his voice, almost like he's bored. Normally most wouldn't take the disrespect, but James doesn't say anything. He only drops his gloves on the dresser and walks closer to the table.

Regulus still doesn't look at him. And James' fingers itch to hold the man's jaw and forcefully turn his head.

"Thank you for your work, Regulus."

That got the man's attention, his grey eyes slowly shifting to James' dark brown ones. Never breaking the contact, he lifts the tube with the cigarette to his lips, inhaling the smoke. James watches like a hawk.

And finally, he turns his entire head. Leaning his body toward James, angling his head slightly to the left. Their lips, only a breath away.

A breath that James steals, he feels the smoke in his mouth. A warm heat.

"Always a pleasure for you, James," Regulus mumbles against his lips. He feels a hand creep up to his neck, nails lightly digging into the flesh. But he truly cannot care, for he loved the way Regulus would say his name.

"Stay," James finds his voice to be more pleading than he would've liked.

Regulus pulls away, but he doesn't agree or disagree. He instead stares at James. Almost like he was studying him. James felt as if metal blades were cutting him open, dissecting him, exposing him to the judgment of Regulus.

Finally, Regulus jumps down from the table, and James bites the inside of his cheek in disappointment. Luckily, it doesn't last long, as Regulus discards his cigarette and reaches for James' hand.

"It's late," he says, pulling James closer and prying a button of his shirt open with one hand.

They sleep in peace, a cold breeze uncared for with the heat from their bodies.

#marauders era #marauders #regulus arcturus black #regulus black #jegulus #james potter #james x regulus #starchaser #writing #sunseeker #regulus x james #james potter x regulus black #jegulus microfic #microfiction #starchaser microfic #jegulus au #the marauders #florsial's microfics

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

What do the M6 spent an exorbitant amount of money on? So much so that it could be considered an addiction? (Doesn't need to be expenses related to the MC, but could be.) I feel like for Lucio it would be Furry Comissions (regardless of whether or not you want to set the hc's in a modern AU or the regular story).

The Arcana HCs: M6 and their shopping weaknesses

~ a request from my wonderful fantastic mutual @helshollowhalls ? Anything for you, friend! Enjoy the madness - brainrot ~

Depending on how the two of you like to split your duties, it may be more or less frequent for you or your beloved to shop alone. Most of the time you don't have to worry too much, they're an adult! They know what they're doing.

Until they creep into your shared quarters one evening, oozing both excitement and guilt as they hide the results of their errands behind the door. "MC, you wouldn't believe what I saw for sale in the market today."

Julian

He's standing almost like a soldier, chest bared and feet braced for your reaction, arms folded under his cape behind his back

"What did you buy, Julian?"

He's not ready to answer your question. "I have it in good faith that it may one day prove essential to saving someone's life."

He's really getting into character now, and you're beginning to worry

"What did you buy, Julian?"

"A rare instrument necessary to my practice! A scientific breakthrough! Behold!"

And with a grand flourish, he pulls out a feat of engineering that seems to be an obscure medical instrument. Fair enough

"So what does it do?"

You watch him deflate like one of those car dealership tube men at the end of the day

"... I don't know."

"And how much did you spend on it?"

He clutches it to his chest protectively. "Does it matter? I'll figure out a way to use it eventually! Maybe it pairs well with leeches!"

Asra

You can't tell if they're grinning or grimacing, but their dimples are out and they're almost sparkling with excitement

"They had so many options, MC. I've never even heard of most of them before!"

He can see your eyes widening as Faust tips over the duffle-sized bag behind the door, slithering over the piles of packages that pour out across the floor

"How much did you spend, Asra!?"

"Not as much as I could have, and only my own money. They had sample packs!"

Now that their secret is out, they're excitedly unwrapping every bundle and disappearing in a mountain of paper and twine

Faust seeks refuge on your shoulder and the sheer diversity of smells filling the room are making both of you a little dizzy

Small bottles of perfumed oil, tiny pots of lotion, mini candles and twigs of incense cover every surface of the room

All the candles and incense are lit. Every tester is being applied in random patchwork

He got over 50 new scents and he is thriving

Nadia

She feels a little guilty for going without you, but she's so excited to have been part of your world like this

She went to the central marketplace

And she got everything suggested to her

Because who would know better than the people selling what she needed to get?

Two menservants are bringing in the multiple bags she brought back in the carriage while she goes over each thing with you, excitedly repeating their sales pitches

She's halfway through the second bag, telling you all about her new gilded mop holder when you finally interrupt

"Nadia, my love. How many things did you get?" You're holding your breath, hoping the question doesn't burst her bubble

"Oh, nothing extravagant. You should see the shipments that come in for palace events! We'll go back together, my darling, and we can do a proper shopping trip then."

You do go back together, and this time you steer clear of the salesmen taking advantage of her inexperience

Muriel

He's peeking around the door of the hut, and you can tell by the set of his eyebrows that he is embarrassed and has no regrets

You smile up at him, walking over to greet him after his trip into town

And the door swings a little further open to reveal his cloak, stuffed to the brim with something that keeps cheeping

He's got the squirming mass wrapped protectively in his arms, slowly kneeling to lower it to the ground

And from the depths of his clothing burst a tidal wave of baby chicks, spreading out to cover the yard and sending the chickens already present into a ruffle of squawks

"Muriel, how many are there?!"

" ... twenty-four. The pet shop had them with the kittens and puppies and," he pauses to peek at your face, "chickens are different. They wouldn't be happy in the city."

The ground is yellow. Inanna has turned into a sulky, wolf shaped jungle gymn. Muriel watches quietly. "Did I do the right thing?"

"Yes. But they are your responsibility."

Portia

You see the way Pepi perks up and Portia moves to guard the giant paper bags she's holding, and that's how you know it's food

You pick Pepi up to protect the goods and take a closer look. The two bags are each nearly the size of your beloved's torso

"Portia, what small army are we feeding!?"

She drops them on the table, flicks a stray crumb from her sleeve, and deflects Pepi's swipe at the pastry that tumbles out

"Ok so don't be mad, I may have overspent just a teeny little bit, but she was a traveling baker from up north! And I had to try some!"

"And then?"

"And then we started talking about baking, and she gave me a discount so I tried one of everything, but I didn't want you to miss out so I got two more of everything for us to eat together!"

You're not sure what to say. It's a lot of food

You end up inviting the Palace bakers to enjoy it with you (they'll be able to really appreciate the technique) and eating lentil stew for the rest of the week

Lucio

You're having flashbacks while he fidgets in the doorway. This used to happen every time you let him do the shopping alone

In his defense, nobody ever taught him to budget. His job was to hunt his food or eat his rations until the old Count took him in

But you two have been working on it together, and he's gotten pretty good at making and sticking to a list and limit

Which can only mean one thing:

"It was so shiny, MC. I know I made an oopsie, but look at it! It goes on my arm!"

It's a jewelry piece that he's clipped to the grooves on his gauntlet. It's not that big, so you can't see how it's an oopsie unless ...

"Is that an emerald? Is that real gold!?"

He nods excitedly. "Don't feel bad, MC, I got you one too! Now we match!"

It's beautiful, but, "Lucio, where did you get the money for this?"

"Next week's budget." He sees your face and grabs your hands. "But don't worry! I did the math, and I already found a job to cover it."

This man is going to be the death of you

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana shitpost #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[grimm909]

Deep In The Sea - Part 2

Hello! It's been a while since the last time and I apologize for the delay in posting this second part. Let's say that the biggest problem itself was related to the translation done, but I found a wonderful person who helped me with the proofreading. Well, in case you didn't already know, English is not my native language ;) 

Regarding the comments and reblogs, you don't know HOW happy and moved I was with them. I'm not lying, all of you who commented and liked the post, I am extremely grateful for the affection. Thank you so much, really 💖💖💖 

Also, I beg a thousand pardons for not answering some, I just couldn't and I have no idea why 😔 

Without further ado, I wish you a happy reading~

WARNINGS: female gender reader, violence, yandere, obsession, non-consensual, mind break, horror, drama, mutilation, mention of pregnancy.

Something was wrong. The feel of sand in his fingers was unfamiliar. The icy environment and the sound of running water also felt strange. You searched in the back of your mind for some resemblance, but it didn't look like any place you'd ever been before, and it certainly wasn't a dream—or nightmare.

Where were you? Perhaps you were already dead by then. Your soul plunged into darkness—surrounded by frightening, crooked shadows; capable of driving even an emotionally stable person insane—and carved into the walls, while your carcass was served as the delight of the odious insects; crawling and carnivorous pests, holders of the contempt of others. 

No. You were wrong. As weak or fast as it was, your heartbeat was still intact. And the aggressive cold made you shiver horribly, almost like a warning that it was time to wake up.

Wake up. Now.

It was then that you forced yourself to open your eyes after a few seconds of unconsciousness, still kind of confused and goofy about who you were or where exactly you were. Wearily, you lifted part of your body to sit on the sand, then let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed your temples to relieve that infernal headache.

When your eyes got used to the darkness, you realized you were in an underground cavern. Something that caught your immediate attention were the many objects - various types, from broken toys to small household items - rusted, broken or already quite worn out by time, scattered on the sand, on top of the rocks and floating in the water.

The bed of sand you were on was the only clean part of these objects, although that didn't mean anything to you.

After the stars above your head were gone, you were quite aware of who you were. However, you still needed to search your mind for memories of how had gotten there. As far as you could remember, until recently you were on the speedboat with your colleague and then you took turns swimming with him. You donned your wetsuit and jumped into the water, this time being careful not to go too deep and run into it. 

That creature…

Fragments of memories swirled around your head, like a roll of photos being developed in a light sequence, but in a blurry way and not as clear as you would wish. However, with enough information for you to form an idea of ​​what had happened, causing the blood to instantly drain from your face and leave you with a terrified expression. 

The sea. The merman. You remember swimming calmly, until you felt a familiar tail snake around your body and squeeze it so that you couldn't move, let alone breathe through the oxygen tube! You tried in vain to struggle and struggle, but couldn't even reach the knife, for your arms were firmly attached to your own body. Afterwards, everything just got too dark after feeling an intense pain in your nape. 

It had hit you! That monster brought you to this place! 

All of a sudden you got to your feet and finally realized that your scuba gear wasn't with you. Nothing. What was left was just the wetsuit on your body. You tried not to panic at that fact and decided that there might be some way out there, but no matter where you looked, it was all rock, water, and beds of sand.

There was no dirt road you could run onto. And the surface of the water was clear enough that you could tell there was nothing down there but a great, frightening blackness that got worse the deeper you went. 

"HELLO, HELLO!?" 

You started calling for some living soul, even though you were afraid that your screams and the echo of the cave would attract more unwanted creatures, but the fear of ending up getting trapped and dying of hunger outweighed this one. 

"Is anyone there? Please help!" 

Your voice became superficially weepy and more shaky. However, your mental state took a turn for the worse when there was no response other than the echo of your own voice.

 "I NEED HELP. SOMEONE!" 

You raised your voice as high as you could, as a result of this action feeling stings of pain in your throat, but not caring about that fact when your biggest concern was getting home. 

"I'M TRAPPED HERE! I CAN'T LEAVE!" 

Hopefully, you waited for an answer, but none came. In self-consolation, you crossed your arms under your breasts and started shaking with fear and anxiety, wishing this was nothing more than a bad dream. Perhaps, if you closed your eyes tightly and then opened them, you would wake up in your bed. Of course, uselessly you did it, but only to realize that it was more real than you'd like to admit. 

"Oh my, you don't look good." 

When the ruinous thoughts aspire more and more to take over your mind, hope arises through a serene and masculine voice that suddenly resonates behind you, making in less than two seconds you turn 180° degrees to see your clear savior. In the first instance, you don't see anyone and for a moment you think that whispering in the dark was a sure step to madness. Had your sanity deserted your mind in such a short time?

"Really, I apologize for the mess. Usually this place is more... tidy."

Unfortunately, your expectations of being rescued by a brave man are horribly shattered when your ears guide you to where the voice came from. And your eyes hovered over the water, meeting the same humanoid creature that had kidnapped you.

It sure would be better if it was just madness on your part.

A horrified scream comes out of your mouth and you end up losing your balance in the sudden surprise of seeing him again, falling on your butt to the ground. You hear what sounds like a low chuckle from that abomination. 

Holy shit, it could talk. 

You found this discover much more terrifying, even though you don't know why. However, you didn't care about this fact after the newt started to approach the bed of sand where you were, only stopping swimming when its arms sought support on land. 

"Stay away from me!" Upon realizing the imminent danger, you suddenly rose from where you were and roared in fury. You ran away, but the distance on that sandy path wasn't far, so you soon found yourself cornered by a wall of rocks.

"Fufufu, where are you going? There's nowhere to run." Of course, you knew you had nowhere to run. But either way, you didn't like the creature's comment at all. People —or beasts — of unusual moods had the darkest thoughts; they interfered with the business of satan. That merman should not be different from a madman in a straitjacket, the only notable difference between both was that a madman in a straitjacket was less dangerous than a stranger, in the dark, using joking words to psychologically play with you.

You could jump into the water, but how stupid would you be to do that, when the predator crawling right behind you was an aquatic creature? It would catch you before you had a chance to swim two meters. Land or water, which do you consider less dangerous?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Turning around to see him, you broke into a cold sweat when you heard that monster was dangerously even closer and was crawling over the ground towards you with the help of its arms, not seeming to have the slightest difficulty in supporting all its body weight on them. The scene before you was faithful to a horror movie.

However, what left you most apprehensive was the manic smile and the burning eyes of that monster, loaded with secrets and something else that you, unfortunately, could not decipher. Or, simply, you couldn't find your own thoughts and words to describe it. And the more time you lost in analyzing the sickly dancing flames present in that strange merman's eyes, the more discomfort grew in your own heart.

You quickly rummaged through your uniform pockets to find the switchblade, but it was nowhere to be seen. The merman had certainly taken care of removing that object from your clothes before you woke up.

Speaking of the Devil, it stopped moving and sat in the sand just two meters away from you. Apparently, it didn't have much trouble staying out of the water, unlike a fish that would be floundering by this point. Your bad luck, certainly.

"I hope you don't get upset." Get upset about being suffocated, hit on the head and then kidnapped? Of course not! At that very moment you were on cloud nine, instead of nearly having a heart attack from sheer anxiety and fear. "But I had to throw away your…toy." It pondered for a few moments, apparently not knowing the right word for the object that until a few moments ago you were looking for, choosing to call it that way. "Just to avoid unnecessary situations, you understand?"

What a son of a bitch.

"Where's my equipment!?" You completely ignored its lame explanations and suddenly exploded. "I can't go back without them!"

"My my, where are the good manners?" Avoiding the question, he was surprised by your sudden reaction as it raised its eyebrows. However, it soon returned to smiling a little. "Now that I think about it, we didn't introduce ourselves the first time."

Of course, after all you were almost drowning and it almost killed you. 

"My name is Jade." He presented himself in a courteous manner and placed his left hand on his chest. Soon, the monster's heterochromatic eyes stared at you deeply, waiting your turn. 

But the truth is, you couldn't give a fuck about that piece of shit's name and you didn't want to say yours to him. What would you get out of it? Nothing. He also had no right to know who you were! For that reason, you decided that silence would be your best answer. 

But seeming to sense his resilience, the merman suggested: "Well, how about this: you tell me your name and I'll tell you where your equipment is."

It was a tempting proposition, but you weren't sure this Jade guy would be able to deliver. Well, what else do you have to lose at this point, right?

"My name is…" You pondered for a few moments, until you completed the sentence revealing who you were. When you did, the merman's eyes narrowed and took on a strange glow. "Now where are my things?" You tried to ignore your own fear and asked so threateningly that it even surprised you, almost as if he was the victim and you were the kidnapper.

"Into the deepest, darkest ocean." Giving you the answer you wanted — but not the one you wanted to hear — a sadistic, bared-toothed grin momentarily takes over his lips, especially when Jade was the only one watching all your hopes go down the drain. "I'm really sorry if they were important to you." The monster said painfully, quickly obscuring his smile by a sad frown of drooping eyebrows, as if he wasn't the cause of your affliction himself.

Oh, god. Why have you waited for a miracle?

You tried to think of a solution, to end that insane little game of cat and mouse — where you were obviously the mouse. But your mind wasn't quick enough to come up with a plan, when your feet were suddenly wrapped around and pulled by the merman's tail, so fast that you weren't even able to try to kick him. You couldn't fight gravity and you once again landed on your ass, barely able to process the fall as your body was quickly dragged down to where he was. You were nothing more than prey now: just frail and helpless, not even having claws or teeth to defend yourself with, much unlike the monster that now loomed above you.

"No! Away!" Afraid of being devoured, you use your arms and the other untangled leg to try to pull him away from you. You thought that if becoming fish food was a cruel possibility, you would at least make sure to make his feast as stressful as possible.

"Oya! Now don't be so reckless honey, you might end up getting hurt." It was quite noticeable that he was enjoying your futile resistance, but making it clear that he would not ignore such behavior on your part, he grips your wrists with extreme hostility, so as to match his following words: "And I would be frustrated to break you so early." His momentarily serious - as well as obviously threatening - tone of voice implied that you should be a good girl to him and stop fighting.

A horrified scream leaves your lips as much for the merman's phrase as for his words to have taken a literal meaning when you feel the flesh of your fist being pierced by the monster's nails even through the latex fabric, this action caused a few drops blood flowed down your arm. That new injury just becomes the fuel for you to thrash about even more frantically than before, resembling a big fish out of water — how ironic, considering the fish over there wasn't you. 

Tired of the resistance, Jade unwinds the tail of your leg only to snake it back together with a grip unable to make you move, immobilizing your lower half completely. Your hands were already placed above your head, he could hold them with just one hand through your wrists. Now, you were like a big fish caught in a net.

"What do you want from me!?" You asked in complete hysteria, tears glistening in your eyes and about to fall. "I saved you! How can you be so cruel!?" You accused him, the purest and most genuine regret crossing your heart, this being the sure trigger to finally make you shed those proud tears for that ungrateful injustice. 

However, there was no right or wrong, much less fair or unfair, in your attitude of risking your own life to help a defenseless animal - in this case, a merman. For in the eyes of others, compassion for a living being could be said to be too stupid or too kind. 

Maybe it could be both at the same time. 

"Cruel? I really don't understand your words." Jade smiled, ignoring your tears as if they weren't there and playing dumb. "Since I never needed being saved." His calm tone turned into a mocking statement. 

"H-what do you mean?" You asked in a choked voice. "But what about the screams, the strings on your wrist?" A confused look took over your tearful expression, searching for answers.

"That?" He pondered for a moment, similar to a teacher trying to find the right words to answer his student's question. "Oh yes, I admit I was stuck, but that was purely a bad joke on my brother's part." He explained smiling. 

"B-Brother?" You stuttered. He answered your question, but in the least likely way you'd worked the out in a short period of time in that plum brain of yours. And knowing this information served only to make you more terrified, when you imagined that there was more than one monster just like him. And, by the looks of it, as crazy as Jade to the point of tying his own brother to the fucking bottom of the sea as a fucking joke.

"Yes. Even beings like us have blood ties, you know?" Even though there was a subtle sneer in his words, he didn't stop smiling for a single instant. "And I'm sure he'll love meeting you too." 

Oh, lord, no. One was too much, two would break you completely.

"Sooner or later, I knew he was going to come and let me go. But I waited so long that I started calling him, even though it attracted other predators." Jade sighed tiredly, as if her brother's deadly pranks were frequent. "But instead, it ended up attracting a cute and curious little thing like you~" He hummed, his lips curling into an even wider, toothy, particularly creepy smile. If that wasn't enough, he even had the audacity to bring his free hand to your wet cheek to squeeze it affectionately, as if you were a child or a pet, exactly as his words suggested.

“Are you kidding…" You couldn't help but gulp. "So you never needed rescuing?" Even though the answer was already obvious by this point in the contest, you couldn't help but question him once more. 

Closing his eyes, the merman returned a tight-lipped smile and answered your silly question as an act of solidarity. "Never." Simply stated. 

Oh, no.

That single word from Jade's dark lips spread like a bitter virus in her heart. Your tears started again and you sobbed as you realized the cruel truth behind his words; you had dug your own grave, for nothing. If you had simply ignored the screams, none of this would be happening to you right now. And that made you imagine that, at this very moment, you would be at home and not in the hands of a predatory mythological creature. 

Curiosity really killed the cat, didn't it?

"But when I look back, I'm glad you came to me." He declared, still stroking your cheek and in doing so wiping some of your tears away. Action that you were violently repudiating in your core. "You weren't afraid and made the decision to release me, even though you knew it could be dangerous." You felt his tail move between her legs, visibly loosening it a little to make her more comfortable. This would be a good chance to attempt an escape, that is, if you still had any physical strength left, as your mental strength was already depleted at that point. "I took to observe you after that day. To take care of you." Of course, after all you had become his favorite prey. And a predator like him wouldn't have the luxury of letting any potential threat get close to you. "At first, it was just a morbid curiosity, but I came to admire you and how brave you were to go back to the ocean every day, after all the past events." Something you now regretted, it's worth emphasize. "Although, I must admit, your teary, full of dread eyes are as beautiful as the moon illuminating the sea." The most frightening thing between his smile and his words were his heterochromatic eyes. They looked insane and deranged, as if they glimpsed a divinity he alone had the right to possess and break. "That's when I decided: I wanted you." Jade declared, sickly in love with your person. And you trembled for it. "I really regret the unpleasant way we met." The merman returned to feign sadness, this time using a voice full of melancholy. "I recognize that I should have been kinder, but there really are evils that come for our good, right?" His wistful tone was gone as quickly as it came and he smiled, ending this deranged declaration of love with a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"Please..." You beg in a fearful whisper, as if you hadn't heard anything Jade had said. Well, how could your to react that confession so perturbe, when it only made you sure how much he wanted something he had no right to have. "Let me go." You gave him your best desolate and pleading look, hoping some feeling like empathy would well up in that monstrous heart.

But that didn't even come close to happening. 

He just ignored you words, as if they had never been spoken. And the certainty that no sign of empathy would well up in the merman's heart, came when he grabbed the latex tissue at the you bust area, dug his nails into the fabric and yanked it quickly to the side, tearing a third of its only protection against humidity and the cold of that place.

"NO!" You screamed, again struggling to get out from under him, while your teary eyes witnessed a horrible scene of your clothing being continually torn apart in the breasts, arms and neck. Baring you to the waist with impeccable calm, he hummed softly, resembling a person who was just performing some trivial action and not an attempt at sexual violence. And after shredding half the latex fabric, he rests his palm on your flat stomach, admiring the texture and color you had.

"What beautiful skin. It's so soft and nice to squeeze." Jade praised you, truly enchanted as she slid her fingers all over her abdominal region, sometimes pinching or caressing at other times. "I wonder how delicate it can be." His tone of voice became somber and Jade's heterochromatic eyes regained a voracious and malevolent glow. The merman stared at a specific part of his body, which he immediately chose to resolve his own doubt.

"What are you-!! AAHHHH!!"

You really were a poor thing, weren't you? For you had scarcely managed to form a sentence when the flesh of his shoulder was viciously pierced by the creature's clenched teeth. Blood flowed quickly from the freshly opened wound and a few drops slithered onto your torso, letting Jade taste the crimson liquid while still having her jaw pressed tightly against your flesh, which could easily be torn off if he decided he wanted to eat a little piece of you.

"AAAHH! IT HURTS! STOP!" You screamed, crying, truly in agony with the horrible pain felt in your shoulder. You swore you never felt as much pain as you were feeling now.

"Oh, sorry. Was that painful?" The merman backs away from the abused shoulder, smiling as he cynically asks the obvious. His bared teeth, smeared red, certainly was a believable sight of hell.

He will kill me. 

He will kill me. 

He's going to kill me! 

"I promise I'll make you feel better soon, dear."

I know this was supposed to be the last part, but it was terribly long and I had to cut it. But don't worry, the next chapter will truly be the last and full of smut.

Thanks for reading this far~💙

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twisted scenarios #twst smut #twisted wonderland jade #jade leech smut #twst jade leech x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst scenarios #twst wonderland

[carolmunson]

Could you reblog the sneak peak of bai you did probably ages ago I CANT FIND IT and I want a taters of it

Btw not pressing you to post it x

not sure which snippet so i’ll post a new one 🥰

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you counter, “Those tubes of lip gloss in your cup holder? The cheap fuckin’ Sweet Pea body spray smell left over in the van when you’d come pick me up? This was way before Bry, Ed – you’ve been, shit, you’ve been fucking me over this whole time.” 

"FUCKING YOU OVER?!" he roars, "So I give some friends a ride home every now and again and I'm a fuckin' scum bag?! You ever bother t'ask me about it? Or did you just go ahead and assume I was hitting?"

You breathe to speak again but the words get caught in your throat, the disbelief in his face catching you in the chest.

"Exactly," he spits, "You think you fuckin' know everything."

"The girls at the cl-"

"You think they're telling you the truth? You think they just didn't want you to get pissed and leave me alone? You really believe in anything, huh?" he rifles through his drawers again to pull on a shirt,

"You that stupid? Your man knock too many screws loose?"

"Fuck you," you choke out, "You're such an asshole."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm an asshole," he huffs, sliding his sweats off and pulling his jeans back on, shoving his bare feet into his Docs, "Tell me somethin' I don't know."

#baby as if

[icu-fetish]

Mia in ICU

"Has she been drugged? Well, you did the right thing. You need to immediately connect her to an artificial apparatus. So, Mia, it looks like this is the end of your story.”

Doctors put her on a ventilator to ensure adequate oxygen supply to her brain and other vital organs. Resuscitation procedures were performed in time, but the patient fell into a coma. Doctors monitored her vital signs and supported her body functions with the help of medical equipment.

Dr. Cohen certainly enjoys his work. She realizes that a girl who knows so many secrets can be a risk. The stories that the girl publishes on the site, although they remain unpopular, contain information that can be dangerous. Dr. Cohen knows the importance of maintaining confidentiality, which is why she is keeping a close eye on the situation to prevent any potential disclosure.

Mia, who is in a coma, remains in stable condition but is still dependent on artificial ventilation. The woman, intubated and catheterized, is in a state of complete dependence on medical devices.

Mia woke up, but her body still wouldn't obey her. She lay still, able only to listen to the sounds that surrounded her. The noise of medical equipment, footsteps of staff, quiet conversations – all this came to her like an echo from another world. The valve on the ventilator connecting the hose to the tube in her throat was the only physical sensation she could recognize. She knew she wasn't breathing on her own – the machine was doing it for her, keeping her alive while her own body remained powerless.

"It's scary to be so helpless, dependent on a machine for every breath. It's like I'm in a dream where I want to scream but can't say a word. I can hear everything around me, but I can't answer. I feel my consciousness floating in the dark, waiting for the moment when I can regain control of my body.”

Her consciousness was like an island in a great, dark ocean of the unknown. She could not speak, could not move, but she could think and feel. Mia faced the harsh reality of her condition. She was aware that if the life support systems were turned off, her life could be in danger.

Dr. Cohen faces a difficult choice. She knows Mia is no longer a threat, but the decision to turn off life support cannot be taken lightly. Doctor took a deep breath and walked over to Mia's bed. She looked at the monitors showing the woman's vital signs and said quietly: “Mia, we are at a crossroads. You were strong and you proved you could fight. But now that you're no longer a threat, we must decide what to do next. I want you to know that every decision I make is an attempt to do what is best for us.”

After such a decision, Dr. Cohen may feel a mixture of emotions — from relief to hesitation about the ethics of his actions. She carefully turned off Mia's life support machine and waited, watching the monitors showing her vital signs…

#intubated #breathing tube #ventilator #breathing tube holder

[anesthesialover-ken]

#intubated #intubation #anesthesia #ventilator #breathing tube #breathing tube holder #hospital gown #oxygen mask #greys anatomy

[generic-whumperz]

The Aid: Chapter 4- One Step Closer

TW & CW: non-con nudity (nonsexual), dub-con/non-con touching (nonsexual), clothing dressing (nonsexual), mention of past non-con, pet/slave fic with general dehumanization that goes along with it (nothing severe), deliciously delirious drugged Whumee, Whumpee awakening from a coma, aftermath of torture and starvation, underweight and malnourished Whumpee, probably medical malpractice, med whumpy(?), Care-Whumper (this is the closest we are getting to a “Caretaker” for a LONG time, and Dr. Paul is no saint), asexual-spectrum Whumpee who doesn’t know he’s ace-spec yet and subsequently has negative self-talk and throws himself a pity-party because of it (this is part of the character journey, alright?), Caretaker turned Whumpee, general sad + angsty Whumpee energy, Wyatt Sullivan (Whumper) being a bully (expected), Whumpee being called "boy" when he's a grown ass man, bad jokes as a coping mechanism from Whumpee  

IDK if this needs to be a warning or not, but Whumpee is currently non-verbal from being drugged and having trauma (brain trauma from the coma mixed with general trauma-trauma), but there’s quite a bit of internal dialog, and we are in his POV!

Word count: 3645

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‘Maybe if I’m a good enough boy, I’ll get a treat after this,’ The Aid jokingly thought, desperate to find an ounce of humor to cling to. 

If he couldn’t laugh, he’d surely cry.

And he was tired of crying. 

With gloved hands, Dr. Paul carefully removed The Aid’s IV and feeding tubes, talking him through the process as he worked, intended to keep him as calm and present in the moment as possible. Wyatt Sullivan returned with a full glass of water—per Dr. Paul’s request—which the Doctor took from him before shooing him away, tasking him to warm The Aid a bowl of soup. 

“I saved the worst for last, but it’ll be quick, I promise,” Dr. Paul said in a chipper tone. He fondled and stuck a syringe into something at the foot of the bed for a minute before lifting the bottom of the comforter and sheet that covered The Aid.

“Full disclosure, you’re naked under here, but after I remove the catheter, I’ll make you decent so you don’t have to trot around bare-assed.”

The Aid felt his heart skip a beat and his body temperature quickly rise from utter humiliation. 

‘Great.’ A shiver of unease washed over him as the thought of another grown man dressing him filled him with inept self-consciousness. He felt foolish for feeling this way, as Dr. Paul had seen more parts of him than anyone else—all parts, in fact, many times. 

‘At least Dr. Paul offered; at least it isn’t Wyatt—not like that asshole ever would do anything remotely helpful.’

He glanced down to see Dr. Paul hoist up the covers to his right knee before he forced himself to look away, not trusting himself not to jerk away from perturbed anticipation. The Doctor stuck his arm under the blanket, placing his hand on The Aid’s inner mid-thigh, unclipping the catheter from the adhesive tubing holder, and gently peeling it off his leg. 

“This won’t hurt. I mean, even if it did, you wouldn’t feel it with the meds you’re on. Just take a deep breath and try to relax,” Dr. Paul directed, giving The Aid a moment to prepare. He sucked in a quick breath and held it in as he anxiously kneaded the blanket, fingernails digging into the soft filling of the comforter like small animals burrowing into freshly plowed Earth.  

The Doctor hoisted the bedding further and quickly peeked below as his arm completely disappeared between The Aid’s legs. 

‘I look like a mother about to give birth.’

Although he couldn’t feel much of what was happening and Dr. Paul worked diligently, his face turned bright pink from embarrassment. He fought his knee-jerk reaction of clamping his legs shut, knowing that would only prolong the process and demoralize him even further. He lightly felt the strange sensation of the tube pulled from his urethra, along with Dr. Paul’s index finger and thumb holding his sex steady as the catheter was fished out from inside him.

He wanted to fucking scream.

“You’re okay, almost there…Just a couple more seconds,” Dr. Paul hushed, observing The Aid’s legs shaking, stiffened body, and tightly-twisted red face. 

“All done!” The Doctor pulled the blanket back down over his feet while holding the catheter out in front of him, placing the tubing and foley bag that was secured to the foot of the bed in a small trash can.  

The Aid sharply exhaled the breath he held in between clenched teeth as a few tears escaped his eyes. He tried to force the memory of the experience out of his mind alongside his expulsion of breath before filling his lungs with a steadied, deep inhale. 

‘Deep breath in…deep breath out…Repeat. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.’

He couldn’t help but feel violated and further stripped of agency. Who was he kidding, what agency did he have left at this point? 

He knew the Doctor was only doing his job, and it was a simple medical device removal procedure; that wasn’t what bothered him, although he couldn't shake the feeling of being molested. What really ate at him was the fact that he viewed himself as a pathetic loser because, through his own avoidant tendencies, he inadvertently put himself in a situation where the only people who touched him were doing it out of a sadistic urge or in a medical setting—usually to fix damage from said sadistic urge. 

He felt stupid for being triggered by something as simple as a formal routine, but his distraught feelings overpowered his rationality, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself. He didn’t care if he was being overly emotional about it; he had to allow himself to grieve the life he lost on top of all the pain and torment he went through. If he still had an ego, he was sure it was just as broken and bruised as his body.

Fleeting parts of him wished he had succumbed to horny teenage sexcapades just so he could dig up a single good memory of an intimate connection that didn’t leave him a sobbing mess afterward. But looking back, even in his supposed “sexual peak” (that he never went through), he harbored no such desires—well, save the fragmented memories of a single budding spark with a male cheerleader that he quickly snuffed out and fled from in a last-ditch attempt to save them both from eventual embarrassment and hurt feelings. 

But that was a lifetime ago. 

He didn’t know why he had always avoided deeper romantic connections, but he found them off-putting and thought himself incapable of possessing any feelings beyond a familial or platonic bond. 

His disinterest in amorous relations didn’t use to bother him, but now it did. 

He would cry-laugh about the irony of his situation when left alone for long periods; he’d spent days reeling about it, stuck in a mental loop while secluded in the basement—an intimately incapable 24-year-old forced to be a punching bag and fuck puppet for a sick pervert who found pleasure from his immense suffering. 

He accepted that life wasn’t fair, but did it have to be so goddamn cruel? 

******

Dr. Paul’s latex gloves snapped as he peeled them off his fingers. He disposed of the gloves and applied a dab of sand sanitizer, working it vigorously into his palms- the pungent alcoholic stench burned The Aid’s nose and caused a stir of harrowing memories to resurface that came through in broken fragments. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the details and lock them back up in the recesses of his mind’s “Do Not Enter” section. 

‘How many things have this abominable fuckass Wyatt ruined and taken from me? Triggered by hand sanitizer? Embarrassing. Maybe it's best I stay here till I die.’

The Aid felt Dr. Paul’s hand tunnel between his lower back and the bed; the Doctor’s other hand securely grabbed his left forearm—the only side of his upper half that remained unmangled. 

“I know you’re high as a kite, and you’re out of it, but I’m going to sit you up, okay? We’ll take it nice and slow, up and at ‘em.” Dr. Paul pulled him up with expert caution to a sitting position, still holding him up as his damaged body adjusted to the movement and change of elevation. 

The Aid groaned, not from pain, but from the dizzying head rush that momentarily filled his vision with small, trailing stars that reminded him of tiny fireworks. Everything felt off and wrong. The world seemed surreal, as if an obnoxious bright tint was added to it, and he was looking through a high-contrast photo filter.

“Do you feel anything? Are you in any pain?”

The Aid perfunctorily shook his head, his eyes wandering around the room in a daze. 

Dr. Paul released the hand from his back, waiting a moment to ensure he could keep himself upright before grabbing the cup of water from the nightstand and holding it out in front of him. The water seemed to sparkle in the clear glass, and he reveled in the small, idyllic moment of his first drink from a cup—not a bowl—since his demotion from house pet to basement troll. 

He wrapped his fingers around the glass and carefully took it from Dr. Paul. He brought the rim to his mouth and took a sip.

‘This is the best goddamn water I’ve ever had.’ 

The liquid was cool and crisp; it didn’t taste dusty and metallic like the water he had grown accustomed to. He never realized how water could have such flavor to it. He took another magnificent sip. Realizing how thirsty he was, combined with the uncertainty of when he’d get fresh water again, he continued gulping it down, savoring every drop.

“Alright…Alright. Okay, that’s enough.” Dr. Paul took the cup from him—still halfway full. “Gotta take it easy, okay? Can’t go chugging water right now; you can have some more in a minute if you’re still thirsty.”

The Aid slumped in defeat, feeling like a small child being berated after being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

Dr. Paul walked to the other side of the room to rummage through The Aid’s dresser, then disappeared into the small walk-in closet for a moment before returning to The Aid’s bedside with garments folded over his arm. He placed the clothes on the bed, leaving all but a pair of boxers in hand, and spun The Aid to the side so his legs were hanging off the mattress—still keeping his lower half covered under the blanket. 

Dr. Paul bent over, pulled the boxers over his ankles, worked them around the curve of his bent, scabbed knees, and shimmied them up around his bony hips, the elastic waistband snapping around his waist. 

‘This is what Madame Eleanor must have felt like…’ 

He reflected on his former Master’s last year of life when she needed the most assistance with things. He dressed and changed her multiple times a day without much thought, but never considered the mix of emotions of the person on the receiving end of help. Maybe she made peace with it; an elderly woman dying a slow death from cancer surely didn’t struggle with needing support as much as he did as a mid-20-something-year-old man who was supposed to be the pinnacle of health, right? 

Some strange part of him felt a pang of misplaced guilt for not being a better version of himself, although he knew it was out of his control—he didn’t shackle himself, starve himself, and maim himself for months; it was done to him.

Dr. Paul continued dressing The Aid, slipping a pair of socks on his feet as he informed him of his sprained, lightly wrapped left ankle, which he was to stay off of for the next couple of weeks. Dr. Paul assured him that he told Sullivan that he was on bed rest and that his Master wasn’t to lay anything but a helping hand on him. 

‘We’ll see how that goes. That creep can’t get his grubby ass hands off me.’ 

Next, Dr. Paul pulled on a pair of baggy sweats, tying the drawstring as tight as it would allow, then carefully fed his arms through a black zip-up hoodie, taking extra precaution with his right side. 

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Dr. Paul asked over the low whir of the zipper gliding up to his chest. 

‘Consider me your living Ken doll. I can even beg on my knees like Barbie.’

The Doctor retrieved an arm sling from his grab-bag of medical equipment, looped it around The Aid’s left shoulder, and adjusted it to securely hold his right arm. Then, without warning, Dr. Paul abruptly pulled him up by his left hand to stand. His body was stiff as a board, his knees locked, and muscles pulled tight. He stumbled, wobbling with all his weight on his right foot—which wasn’t much, but just enough to throw him off balance.

A distraught whine escaped him as he hopelessly felt another head rush come on and desperately clutched onto Dr. Paul for support.

Panting, he slouched into the taller man’s chest, trying to work up the strength to hold himself up on his own. He felt like a newborn fawn taking its first steps on frail legs minutes after birth. 

The hardwood oak floor beneath his socked feet was nice and smooth—he hoped he wouldn’t slip on it. Falling on it would guarantee more damage dealt…although that would mean more bed rest, which meant more time away from Sullivan’s beatings.   

“Here we go!” Dr. Paul shoved a walking crutch under his left armpit (‘Where the hell did this come from?’) as he wrapped an arm around him to bear some of his weight, allowing him to acquaint himself with his temporary walking device. 

‘An aide for The Aid—a match forged by the heavens and prophesied in the stars, or a cruel joke? You decide.’ 

“Perfect height! Alright, we’ll just take a stroll to the other side of the room and head back, then I’ll get outta your hair, alright? You’ve been doing so good—”

“That’s what I like to hear! My boy’s a champ; he always bounces back.” 

The Aid and Dr. Paul's necks craned simultaneously to the left, watching Wyatt stroll into the room and gesture at a bowl of steamy soup in hand, then placing it—and a spoon—on the dresser.

‘Looks like he’s trying to win points with the Doctor by pretending to be civilized by ‘allowing’ me to eat with silverware; what an occasion. If only I was allowed a camera to document this momentous event.’

“Don’t stop on my account,” Sullivan simpered, sitting on the corner of the bed, twisting around to watch them. He eyed The Aid excitedly, half expecting him to fail and become a blubbering, broken heap on the floor in mere seconds. 

‘Stop fucking looking at me with that shit-eating grin.’ 

“Com’mon,” Dr. Paul coaxed, loosening his grip around The Aid and slowly stepping backward, encouraging him to follow. He took a small, hesitant step forward, supporting himself with the crutch. He felt the woosh of his clothes sway with his jolted, ungraceful step, indicating how much weight he lost during his time in isolation. 

“Beautiful,” the Doctor encouraged, guiding him to take another step.

“Speaking of hair, he got a wash and a beard trim last week, then a sponge bath a couple days ago. But I’m sure he’d appreciate a warm shower.” Dr. Paul glanced over at Sullivan. 

“Think you can manage to keep an eye on him? I'm not saying you need to bathe him; just monitor him and make sure he doesn’t run the water too hot. I recommend sitting him in a chair so he isn’t standing the whole time; he’ll be woozy for a while. One of the side effects of these meds is heat sensitivity and an increased risk of heat stroke, so just make sure you don’t lock him in the car on a hot day with the windows rolled up. I’ll go over meds with you while he’s eating.” 

“Ow-wa Doc! Was that a dog joke you just threw in there?” Sullivan whooped amusedly. 

“Just making sure you’re paying attention,��� Dr. Paul chuckled. 

‘Call me Scooby because I can’t fucking Doo this anymore.’

“Sure you don’t want me to scrub his back too? Scratch him behind the ears? Towel dry him and put a pretty bow on him?” Sullivan teased. 

‘Don’t threaten me with a good time. If only you would treat me like the show dog I was born to become.’

“Only if you feel so inclined to. But maybe you can pretty him up and get him a haircut and a shave? I’m sure he’d like that. Your mother always kept him groomed, and he looked happier that way. Plus, it brings out his boyish charm, don’t ya think?” Dr. Paul playfully tousled The Aid’s shaggy, grown-out chocolate brown hair that hung past his ears and covered the nape of his neck. 

They reached the opposing wall and began their trek back to the bed, the Doctor still guiding him, walking backward like a parent teaching their infant how to walk. From this vantage point, The Aid could see the heap of medical devices stationed on the right side of his bed that mimicked a hospital room.  

“Hm, I dunno, I think I like the shaggy dog look on him,” Sullivan said tongue-in-cheek, knowing damn well The Aid didn’t like looking unkempt. 

“Looks like a sad little stray puppy, doesn’t he? Well, minus the collar—oh wait—” Sullivan stood abruptly and pulled something from his back pocket. “Now we can complete the look!” He pinched the metal D-ring in between his fingers as The Aid’s dark green leather collar dramatically uncurled, springing out and forward. 

The Aid glared at Sullivan with daggers in his eyes, disgusted by the presence of the collar. Just because the physical assaults were off-limits momentarily, it didn’t mean that Sullivan would stop tormenting him in whatever other way he could. The man had the same energy as a brutish school bully who deliberately picked on smaller kids just because he was bigger than them.  

“Wyatt, play nice. Don’t tease him; put that thing away,” Dr. Paul chided, irritated by Sullivan’s blatant callousness. 

Sullivan challenged The Aid’s glare with a smug smile, placing the collar on the dresser, deliberately positioning it on the edge closest to him so he would see it clearly when lying in bed. This served as a warning, a constant reminder of The Aid’s place, how he was owned and thought of as nothing more than an exotic pet to be tamed and used.

Once they reached the bedside, Dr. Paul took the crutch from under The Aid’s armpit and eased him down on the bed, resting the crutch on the nightstand and grabbing the glass of water.

“Want to finish this?” 

‘Is water wet?’

The Aid eagerly seized the glass and greedily drank the rest like it was the last cup of water he would ever get to drink. 

“Your first urination after the catheter removal may sting a little, but it shouldn’t be more than a little. There may also be a small amount of blood in your urine, but again, it shouldn’t be more than a small amount. If you have any issues down there, tell Wya—Master Sullivan, okay?” Dr. Paul looked expectantly at Wyatt to confirm that he would be receptive to possible future conversations involving The Aid’s urinary health.  

“What am I supposed to do about it?” Sullivan asked dumbly. Dr. Paul eyed him confoundedly. 

“…You call me, and I come to check on him and make sure he doesn’t have a UTI. If he has any issues, call me, and I’ll check to ensure he isn’t developing more problems. He’s been okay so far despite everything, and I’d like to keep it that way. But, if you haven’t noticed, he’s rather fragile right now; a gust of wind could knock him over.”

“Could have just said that.” Sullivan threw his arms up in the air. Dr Paul sighed, taking the cup from The Aid and propping him up against the bed’s headboard. He brought forth a medium-sized metal tray, unfolded its tucked-in legs, and placed it over The Aid’s lap. This time, Sullivan was smart enough to take the hint of placing the bowl of soup on it. 

“You’re welcome.” Sullivan stood, waiting for a meek “Thank you, Master” from his slave.  

The Aid stared bleakly into the bowl of soup, unsure how much he’d be able to eat because, despite being starved, he didn’t feel ravenous—he didn’t feel hungry at all. Sullivan scoffed at The Aid’s silence—what he took as an act of defiance. 

He’d let it slide, just this once. 

He promptly joined Dr. Paul to discuss medication times and dosages. 

The older men’s voices faded to indistinctive background chatter in The Aid’s ears. He stared into the soup, fumbled the spoon, and stirred the contents around, trying to muster the strength to feed himself. Somehow, this felt like more of an impossible feat to overcome than hobbling around the room. 

He only managed a few spoonfuls of broth. He nibbled on a chopped carrot, but it felt foreign in his mouth, and he struggled to swallow it. 

He was suddenly hit with an unmistakable twinge of dread. His life felt bleak and meaningless; he had no hope for the future—the drugs seemed to only amplify his negative feelings. 

‘Hope I get some fast-acting anti-depressants, if there is such a thing…’

How many more times would he be beaten nearly to death, or to death, just to be nursed back to health for the process to repeat itself? He couldn’t do this again, not after the basement. He lost part of himself in that dungeon that he’d never get back, the remnants forever lost in the pitch shadows. He found his demons down there; they coalesced with a single mission of ripping him to shreds and flaying him open for his human monster to feed on. The demons and devil-man volleyed him back and forth until nothing was left but a shell of a young man who’d lost everything and abandoned his will to live. 

He knew no peace, no happiness; nothing but desperation and horror filled his mind and heart.

He stared helplessly into the bowl of soup as his mind dragged him down the hall of horrors, making him relive the torment. 

He couldn’t even enjoy his first hot meal in four months.

‘I survived death…But now what?’

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Tag list: @sacredwrath

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#The Aid #wyatt sullivan #Dr. Paul Richards #Generic Writez #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #sadistic whumper #tw mentions of noncon #tw ptsd #med whump? #traumatized whumpee #tw nudity #noncon drugging #disoriented #drugged whupee #whump fic #oc whump #oc whump fic #dubious consent #dub con #dub con touching #pet whump #slavefic #torture aftermath #caretaker turned whumpee #carewhumper #ace whumpee #ace characters #tw coma #tw starvation

[skyloftian-nutcase]

if you have a moment to write one could i request a tiny tiiiiny snippet of someone at wild's bedside 🥺 no more "attack of the wild angsters", just "gentle coaxing of the wild angsters"

It had felt like an eternity since he'd been notified. It had felt like an eternity since he'd started pacing the hallways, filled with frantic information and desperately awaiting some sort of update.

But finally, finally, he'd been given the all-clear, a room number, and a promise for a report when he got there.

Twilight nearly burst through the doorway into the ICU and then tried to reel himself in. He was relieved to see Four awaiting him, but felt this heart clench at the ICU nurse's face.

And then he saw Wild.

He saw his dear friend, pale and still as a stone. He saw the delightfully insane person he'd grown to view as a brother, with a tube in his throat held in place by a holder that would likely to be too tight for his face once his body swelled with all the fluids that were being dumped in him, with shaved hair and a device in his brain measuring intracranial pressure, with severe bruising and swelling, with dried blood on his face and neck and hands, with a fresh, angry incision on his stomach, with a warming blanket desperately trying to raise his body temperature so that he was less likely to bleed.

He saw Wild, broken and comatose.

Twilight sank into the nearest chair, his trembling hand reaching for his brother. He let out a shaky breath. "Fuck."

#gonna write this just so I can spite my stupid brain and prove that I can still do healthcare au stuff #you ask skye answers #lovely anon #lu in healthcare #lu wild #lu twilight

[nordicmedfet]

Mr A part 2

Disclamer - The following story contains the use of sextoys, nudity, cpr and defibs.

----------------------------------

I'm back at Mr A's office. Sitting alone in the waitingroom, wishing time moved by faster. Since i was here last, he's put up pictures. Closeups of women under his care. Intubated, defibrilated, tested.

-Lady J, please come thru. As i look up i smile from ear to ear. There he is, in all his glory. I follow Mr A into the procedure room. Just like before I see all the machines standing against the wall, but somethings different. There is a small table with different toys - You are todays experiment, he says.

Just like last time he tells me to get onto the bed and begins to strap down my chest, ties my arms to the posts beside me. Drags my body closer to the edge of the bed, and lifts my legs onto the stirrups straping them down tightly. -Just the way i like it. Now you will not be able to move or escape my tests.

Mr A gives me a big smile as he places the anasthesia mask over my face. I try to escape his grip but he just push the mask tighter on to my face. The gas fills my lungs and after a few breaths im sedated. He slowly removes the mask, exposing my open lifeless mouth . He proceeds to place the laryngoscope in my mouth and lifting my chin up to the ceiling, exposing my vocal chords. Slowly he pust the tube down and in to my lungs, inflating the balloon to stop air escaping out. He places an et tube holder and brings it under my neck connecting the straps to make sure the tube won't move out of its place. He connects me to the ecg machine and hooks me on to the ventilator, slowly turning down the sedation and bringing me back to consciousness. At first i cough but shortly after, it's like i adapt to having the tube deep down in my throat. I feel the excitement spreading through my body, from my head to my toes.

-Let's see, where do i begin? Mr A pulls the table of toys up next to the bed. Moving his hand over different clitoris stimulators, fucking machines and vibrating dildos. He picks up the clitorisstimulator, placing stimulating gel on to my clitoris. Turns the clitorissimulator on and softly place it on to my genitals. Step by step he turns up the spead. Pressing hard against my clit. With every small sucking with the clitoris stimulator I get more and more aroused. He then proceeds to insert a large vibrating dildo into my vagina, reaching far to hit my g-spot. Moving it in and out, faster and harder with every move. I have now completly reached climax and i scream out exhaustion. Feeling as if time has stoped. Fighting for each breath as im so erhilirated by the large vawe of orgasm.

Suddenly he stops and removes the dildo slowly, and sets up the handsfree fucking machine so that he can feel my breasts as the machine moves in and out of my vagina. Pounding harder and harder, starting out slow until it reaches its limit. Yet againg i get the overwhelming feeling of an orgasm rushing throu my body, making me tense up. taking my breath away.

It completely overwhelms me and slowly my heartbeat disappears, followed by a flatline on the monitor. Mr A is surprised to see that i'm drifting into cardiac arrest. He violently removes the fucking machine and proceeds to give me chest compressions. Making my whole body follow in rhythm with the deep, vigorous compressions. Stoping to whatch the monitor, but still no heartbeat. Pushing deeper and harder on to my chest.

Mr A lets go of me and bring the defibrillator over. Placing gel on to the cold metal plates. Gently placing one in between my breasts, and one under the left. Sending a jolt of electricity througout my heart, making my entire body sway in unison. For just one second Mr A sees a faint heartbeat on the monitor before it returns to flatline again. Mr A now gets on top of me to give even harder and more powerful chest compressions. He feels my ribs under his force. With every compression only going faster and faster, deeper and deeper. My eyes staring him in his face, lifeless and empty. He gets down from the bed and charge the defibrilators. Giving me incessant chocks. One after another. Returning to give me chest compressions using one hand. I feel his warm hard hand on my breasts, pushing down with all his might.

One last chock making me fly of the bed and landing hard. My heart start to beat. Mr A stands next to me, tired from his hard work. He then disconects me from the ventilator and hooks me up to an ambubag. Transfering me to a rolling bed and moving me into a large room in the back. -Here i will keep you safe, he says and conects me to a new ventilator, giving me anaesthesia and keeping me sedated for a later day.

[defiblover27]

Feel Like Flying

So I decided to do something a little different and played around with chatGPT. And honestly I was quite impressed with what it was able to come up with. So here is a new story that I edited with the help of the software. The point-of-view is also a little different so be warned that it might be somewhat upsetting. Please let me know what you think and maybe try it out for yourself.

Enjoy!

----------------

April is a 23 year old female who loved nothing more than the rush of adrenaline that came with performing stunts during halftime shows. She had been practicing for weeks with her team for the upcoming game against their biggest rival, and she was determined to make it perfect. On the day of the game, the stadium was filled with excited fans, and April could feel the energy buzzing through her veins. As she and her teammates prepared for their performance, she could sense the tension building. Finally, it was their turn to take the field. The crowd roared as the cheerleaders began their routine, and April felt her heart racing with excitement. It was time for the big finale, the basket toss. April took her place at the front of the group, bracing herself for the launch. Her teammates threw her high into the air, and for a moment, she felt weightless. But then, something went horribly wrong. She felt herself falling, her body twisting as she tumbled towards the ground. Her teammates failed to catch her as she landed with a sickening thud, and pain exploded through her body.

As April lay on the field, the medical team quickly ran out and assessed her injuries and began stabilizing her. One of the medical personnel called out instructions to the others. "April, can you hear me? Are you okay?" April moaned in response, her face contorted in pain. The paramedic quickly turned to her colleagues. "We need to stabilize her back and neck. Get the board and the collar." One of the paramedics retrieved a backboard from the ambulance, while another held April's head steady with a cervical collar. "Okay, on the count of three, we're going to roll her onto the board," said the first paramedic. "Ready? One, two, three." The team gently rolled April onto the board, keeping her spine as straight as possible to avoid exacerbating any potential injuries. They secured her head and neck in place with the cervical collar. April faded into unconsciousness as she went limp on the back board. "We need to get her out of her uniform and intubate her," they said. The medical team carefully removed April's uniform, being mindful of her injuries, and exposed her chest. One of the paramedics prepared to intubate her, and secured the 8.0 ET tube with a blue tube holder. The paramedic at the head pressed two fingers into the side of her neck through the front of the c-collar. Feeling no pulse he said "Let's get her hooked up to the monitor and start CPR," said the paramedic. The team then began performing chest compressions on April, providing rhythmic movements to her chest while giving rescue breaths through a bag valve mask. The crowd watched in stunned silence, some holding their breath, others whispering prayers for April's survival. "Charging the defibrillator," said the paramedic, as they placed the defibrillator pads on April's chest. They checked for a heartbeat and, finding none, continued aggressive CPR as the defibrillator recharged. In a moment they delivered another shock to her body through the defibrillator pads. The medical team continued performing chest compressions as they set up an IV in her left arm and pushed a round of drugs. "Let's continue CPR while we get her onto the stretcher," said one of the medical personnel. The team continued to perform chest compressions and provide rescue breaths as they carefully lifted April onto the stretcher. They quickly wheeled her toward the waiting ambulance, still performing CPR as they rushed her to the ambulance. They secured the stretcher in place and continued CPR on April as her heart refused to restart.

As the ambulance rushed towards the hospital, the paramedics frantically worked to resuscitate April. One of the paramedics was administering chest compressions, while the other was in control of the ambu bag, defibrillator and pushed any meds they needed. "Charging to 200," said the second paramedic, as he adjusted the settings on the defibrillator. "Clear." The team quickly stepped back, giving April room as the defibrillator paddles were applied to her chest. For a moment, there was a flicker of hope in their hearts. But it was short-lived. April's heart remained stubbornly still, and her body showed no signs of responding to the CPR and defibrillation. "We're not getting a pulse," said the first paramedic, his voice tense. "A fall from that height, and how she landed." The other paramedic cut him off "She still has a chance, we are not giving up on her." The team continued their efforts, their movements becoming more frantic as they tried to revive April. But no matter how hard they worked, there was simply no response. As they neared the hospital, the team prepared April to be wheeled out of the ambulance by placing the heart monitor on her legs and placing the saline bag next to her head.

As April was rushed into the emergency room, the medical team continued their efforts to revive her. The team worked quickly, with the sound of the continuous beeping of the EKG machine and the frantic shouts of the medical staff filling the room. "Let's get a central line in and administer epinephrine!" called the head of the medical team. "We need to keep pushing!" As they worked, April's family arrived at the hospital and was directed to the emergency room waiting area. They were anxious and worried, and the long wait felt like an eternity. Finally, the door to the emergency room opened, and a nurse stepped out. "I'm sorry," the nurse said gently. "We're doing everything we can, but her condition is critical." April's family was ushered into the room and watched in horror as the medical team continued their resuscitation efforts. They saw April's body on the bed, with EKG leads attached to her chest, and a breathing tube down her throat. As the medical team continued their resuscitation attempts, April's family saw them apply the defibrillator paddles to her chest, with gel spread over her skin to increase conductivity. With each shock, April's body jolted and spasmed, causing her family to flinch in pain. They also saw how vigorously the medical team was performing CPR on April. The force of the chest compressions caused her body to shake and convulse, making it seem as though she was fighting for her life. Throughout it all, April's family stood helplessly by, tears streaming down their faces as they watched their beloved daughter and sister being subjected to such a traumatic experience. Despite the family's hope and the medical team's efforts, April remained unresponsive. Her body lay limp, lifeless, and cold on the bed, with the only signs of movement coming from the medical team's frantic attempts to revive her.

April's family watched anxiously as the medical team continued their resuscitation efforts. They could hear the sound of the defibrillator charging up, and then the high-pitched beeping noise as it was applied to her chest.

"Clear!" one of the doctors shouted, and then they all stepped back as the shock was administered. April's body jerked and convulsed in response, her chest rising and falling rapidly as they resumed CPR. As they watched numerous round of medication being adm"We need to try again," another doctor said, applying more gel to the defibrillator paddles. "Clear!" they shouted once more, and the shock was delivered. April's body shook with the force of the defibrillation, but she remained unresponsive. The medical team continued their resuscitation efforts, performing CPR with intense force, sweat pouring down their faces. "Come on, April," one of the doctors muttered, their eyes fixed on the EKG monitor. "You can do this." The medical team administered drugs through the central line, hoping that they would somehow revive her. The force of the CPR was intense, causing her body to shake violently on the bed, her feet and legs swaying from side to side with each compression. The medical team worked frantically, the sound of the monitor beeping in the background. The family members were silent, their eyes fixed on April's still form, praying for some sign of life. "Come on, April," one of the doctors said, their voice strained with effort. "You can do this." After a few moments, there was no change in April's condition. The medical team continued with the chest compressions and resumed the CPR. Her body was still limp, and her breathing was non-existent. After a while April went back into v-fib. "Clear!" the doctor yelled again, administering another shock to her chest. April's body shook violently, and her head thrashed from side to side. "We need to get a pulse," another doctor said, their voice shaking with the effort of the resuscitation. They worked tirelessly, administering shock after shock, each time with the same violent reaction from April's body. The family watched, each shock taking a toll on their emotions. After several more attempts, the medical team finally stopped, their faces etched with exhaustion and defeat. "I'm sorry," the doctor said softly, looking at April's family. "We did everything we could, but we were unable to revive her."

As the doctor spoke the heartbreaking news of April's passing, her family members were inconsolable. They cried and hugged each other, saying their goodbyes to their loved one. After a few minutes, they slowly left the room, still sobbing and holding on to each other for support. The medical team waited for them to exit before they began the process of cleaning up April's body. "Let's get her cleaned up and prepped for transport to the morgue," one of the doctors said, their voice somber. The team carefully removed the EKG leads, central line, and other monitoring equipment from April's body. They then cleaned her up, removing any excess fluids or blood, and covered her with a white sheet. "It's always tough to lose a patient," another doctor said, shaking their head. "Especially someone so young." The team worked quietly, their movements solemn and respectful. They knew that they had done everything they could to save April's life, but the outcome was beyond their control. After the cleaning process was complete, they covered her with the sheet and placed a toe tag on her right big toe. They wheeled her out of the room, leaving it empty and silent.

#cpr #resus #resuscitation #defib #defibrillator #accident

[weministertomonsters]

Werewolf (Camden) x human female reader ~ Part 3

  Heads up, this chapter contains incest. If that's not your cup of tea then it's time to click outta here.

Also, this is (I think) the first time I'm using Y/n. I kind of like it. This way I don't have to find ways to go around mentioning a name nor do I have to give the reader a name that the actual reader may not like!

~•~•~•~

"Calm down, Y/n!" Arch says, grunting as he lifts his unconscious brother off the floor. "He'll be fine."

    "He doesn't look fine to me!" You bawl back. "He looks like he got jumped- Oh my god, are those knife wounds?"

    Arch kicks open the bathroom door open and ease Camden into the bathtub.

    "He's going to shift soon, so I want to get him clean before I take a look at his wounds."

    "Shift? Isn't he already?" You shuffle into the bathroom after Arch, too anxious to do anything else but twist your fingers together.

    "No, he's going to shift into a human form," Arch says, turning on the water and pointing the showerhead at the wall to give it time to warm up.

    "It's a defense mechanism to protect werewolves while they heal."

    "But he's gotten hurt before and he never had to..."

    "He's more than just a little hurt," Arch says tensely.

    "But is he-"

    "Christ Jesus, can you just help me?" Arch snaps, his ears flicking back.

    You're stunned into silence, and simply nod mutely and begin to help remove Camden's ruined clothing. Arch sighs.

    "Sorry."

    "No, it's fine. I always get a little stupid when I'm shocked," you reply. "Seeing him come in and drop like that..."

    "Either way, I shouldn't have yelled," Arch says, adding sheepishly, "I still haven't taken my meds and between the two of you, it's very hard to concentrate."

    "Should I leave? Will that help?"

    "I'm not a caveman," Arch snorts, opening a bottle of bodywash. "Camden needs both of us."

    "Won't the soap get in his cuts?" You ask as he passes it to you.

    "Yes, but he needs to get clean. God knows where he was before this," Arch sighs. "Although I have a pretty good idea..."

    "Um, is this supposed to happen?" You grimace as fur begins to sluice off Camden"s legs.

    "Yes. He's shifting."

    "Okay. Okay, I can do this. All his fur is falling off, but it's fine. It's going to be okay."

    "You're freaking out," Arch says. "Take a deep breath."

    "Okay. Deep breaths," you obey his order, grimacing at the fur sliding down the drain.

    After a few minutes of gently washing your boyfriend down, he begins to look human. His fangs retract and so do his claws. Even his hands and feet look human. For some reason, his facial hair remains. You didn't even know he had any and you laugh slightly at how rugged it makes him look.

    "Is he going to be okay?" You murmur, leaning against Arch, who tenses slightly.

    "This is always the hardest part," he replies. "But our wounds heal best when we let our bodies do the work. In a few hours, he should be much better."

    "Can I get some fresh air?" You squeak because the mingling scent of blood and bodywash is wreaking havoc on your stomach.

    Plus, seeing your boyfriend's wounds slowly stitch themselves together like a sped-up timelapse isn't making you feel any better.

    "Take your time," Arch says. "When his wounds close up a little more, I'll put him in the bed."

    You head into the kitchen and notice the trail of drying blood droplets on the floor. After a few rounds of damp paper towels, the floor is clean. You wash your hands again and at this point, your nerves are through the roof, so you boil some water and brew a herbal tea, hoping to calm your nerves. You take the mug of tea with you and slip into Arch's bedroom. It's very clean, except for the desk in the corner which is a colorful tornado of sketches, tubes of paint, and various handle-less and chipped mugs repurposed as brush holders.

    You pull the duvet back and plump up the pillows. Arch comes in a moment later, with Camden swaddled in a fluffy towel.

    "Thanks," he says to you, carefully putting his brother down.

    "No problem," you respond. "Now what do we do?"

    "You're welcome to stay, Y/n. Camden would like that."

    "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose... Ugh, fine. How can I say no when you look at me like that?" You grumble playfully. "I'm exhausted, though. Is it okay if I sleep over?"

    "My bed is big enough," Arch says, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at his brother.

    You only hesitate for a moment.

    "Okay." You ease onto the bed and curl up next to Camden, staring at his human face.

    He's handsome like this, but you prefer his natural form. You don't mean to fall asleep, but in the end, you do.

    You wake up because you're far too hot. One werewolf is one thing, but two are like a furnace that you don't need. You slowly come back to yourself from your empty dreams, lying there and debating whether to get a glass of water. Suddenly the bed shifts and a cold, wet nose presses against your neck and you flinch, looking up into Camden's eyes. He's back to his werewolf form and he's very quiet, simply gazing at you.

    "Camden?" You whisper, and his ears flick.

    He pulls himself up on his elbows and shakes his fur out, digging his clawed hands into the mattress next to your head. You don't like this quiet version of him, the way he stares like he isn't quite seeing you. You try to sit up, but his lips curl back and he bares his teeth at you. You let out a quiet breath and sink back down slowly.

    "Okay," you whisper to him. "I'm not going to run away."

    Does he know that? Does he even hear you?

    You use your foot to kick the sleeping Arch in the side until he grunts and rolls over, blinking his eyes open sleepily. He takes in the sight of Camden crouched over you, leaning down to bite.

    "Oh shit," he says, and shoves Camden to the side.

    The air is suddenly filled with tension. Camden snarls and lunges at his brother and they fall off the bed, snapping at each other.

    "What are you doing?" You cry out, ripping the bedsheets off of you and leaning over the edge of the bed.

    "Keeping him from biting you," Arch grunts in exertion as he tries to keep Camden from biting him as well.

    "Is he in heat? I've never seen him look so out of it before," you reach over and snap on the night light, then gape at what you see.

    Camden's dick, simply put. It's peeking out of its sheath, dripping. Dripping onto Arch's stomach.

    "Um..." Your eyes are the size of saucers. "What's going on?"

    "This is a terrible time," Arch groans, huffing as he catches his brother's scent. "Werewolves coming out of a healing shift are very territorial and often stuck in a haze of primal instinct. Mix that with a rut and you've got a nightmare on your hands."

    You stare dumbly for a moment, and then you giggle.

    "And what's so funny about this?" Arch snaps, twisting out of reach of his brother's fangs, pushing him away.

    Camden isn't deterred and begins to circle him, looking for a weak spot.

    "Camden isn't the only one having trouble," you snicker, and then clear your throat. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't even find this funny!"

    Arch looks down at himself and swears. "It's too late to take the pills. They'll just make it worse. You need to get me the handcuffs."

    "What now?" You blink.

    "Both of us are in heat. If I start to haze as well, I'll do something I will regret. And it isn't safe for you either."

    "I'm staying. I'm not leaving you two when you're this vulnerable," you cross your arms. "Besides, I really don't want to go back to my apartment alone."

    You give him a pleading look. He sighs.

    "Fine. Just get me the handcuffs. They're in the bottom drawer in the bathroom."

    "Okay." You hurry to retrieve them.

    You find them, two pairs of heavy cuffs. They look like they are real silver too. You hurry back to the bedroom, only to stop short in the doorway. The brothers haven't torn each other to bits, but they seem to have gotten a little caught up. With the gold dominating Arch's eyes, it isn't hard to see that he's slipping into a haze as well. You're sure that not going to make this any better.

    Camden is on the floor, his wrists pinned back by one of Arch's hands. He's alternating between baring his neck and snapping his teeth like he can't decide whether to submit or fight. His hips raise, pressing against Arch, seeking any kind of friction. Although Arch growls, he doesn't stop him either. Your lips are parted in surprise, and despite yourself, you draw in a breath, taking in the scene.

    Should you be watching this? Should you stop them? Maybe. But you don't. You put the handcuffs down on the floor in easy reach and step closer. The fur of the two almost glows in the beam of the night light as they tangle together, whisking tails, bared teeth, and shared breaths. It's so startlingly intimate, it turns you on.

    God, it shouldn't, but it does.

    You touch Arch's shoulder, letting him register your presence. Camden's eyes are sparkling with tears as he whines in frustration, nostrils flaring as he catches your scent. His gaze flicks to you and he groans your name. Delighted that he's present enough to recognize you, you lean down and kiss him, sliding closer and slipping a hand over his broad chest.

    "I'm here," you whisper.

    He strains towards you, nuzzling against your neck, teeth against your skin.

    "Camden," Arch warns throatily. "Don't bite her."

    "I know," he replies, licking you instead.

    Seeing that Camden is at least partially out of his haze, Arch reluctantly releases him and he leans into you, a rough purr rumbling in his chest.

    "Please," he whimpers, clutching at the large t-shirt you're wearing. "Touch me."

    You recall what happened the last time, and so you go slow and give him time to change his mind, running your hand up his thigh. He lifts his hips towards you, silently begging. Finally, your hand wraps around his cock and you suck in a breath at how big he is. Already, you're imagining how it would feel inside you. Camden whines, shuddering as you touch him, sweeping your thumb over the dripping head of his cock.

    You can't stop yourself from leaning forward to get a taste, swirling him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around his length like a velvet blanket. His hands clutch carefully at your hair and even as he pushes you down and coaxes you to take more of him in, he remains gentle.

    Through the haze of your arousal, you hear Camden rasping out,

    "You want to fuck her, don't you? You want to fuck my girlfriend."

    Oh, shit. You lift your head and look at Arch, whose eyes are consumed with gold as he slowly strokes his cock, panting.         "Yes," he hisses, his eyes glued on you. "She's so fucking pretty and she smells amazing."

    Your lips curve into a coy grin as you tilt your hips in the air and wiggled your butt at him.

    "Well? What are you waiting for?"

    Arch just about attacks you, pushing the hem of the shirt up around your hips and ripping your panties off, pressing wild kisses to the backs of your thighs, growling as he finds particular spots that make you moan. When his tongue presses against your cunt, you see sparks.

    You're already so wet that he doesn't need to take long to prepare you, nor do you want him to. You ache to be filled. Arch's hands grip your hips and he rasps out a warning.

    "If I start, I don't think I can stop. Are you sure you want this?"

    You lift your mouth off of Camden's cock to gasp impatiently,

    "Just fuck me already!"

    Arch's cock presses against your sensitive skin, and he rocks his hips, bumping his cock against your clit. When he finally thrusts into you, the force pushes you further down on Camden's cock and you fight not to gag, pulling up a bit as your eyes water. Camden is shuddering from the effort of holding back from ramming into your mouth.

  You reward him for that, reaching down and cupping his balls and massaging them. The stimulation proves too much for him, and he begins to cum, whining breathily. You clasp his thighs and sputter at the copious amount of his climax. You manage to swallow some of it, but a lot of it runs from the corner of your mouth and drips from your chin.

    You feel filthy and you love it. Arch growls at the sight, his body arching over your back as he shudders with each thrust.

    "Cum inside me," you gasp. "Please!"

    You are so going to regret saying that later, but right now, you don't care about anything other than reaching the high he's building you up to. Camden reaches down and rubs your clit, cooing encouragements to you. You're almost crying from the stimulation, as you clamp down on Arch's cock. With a muffled howl, he begins to spill into you.

  The feeling of his hot cum inside you pushes you over the edge and you cum as well, spasming in pleasure. Arch pulls out before he can knot you, grabbing your jaw and kissing you roughly, licking his brother's taste from your lips. You feel Camden shuffle between your legs and your eyes fly open in alarm.

    "Wait, I'm too sensitive!" You whimper, but he ignores you, thrusting his cock into your dripping cunt.

    "Come on darling, you can take one more," Arch murmurs, kissing your forehead and rubbing your nipples until they harden again.

    He props you against his chest so that you can see where you and Camden are connected, the way your pussy lips drag against his length, the lewd sounds your bodies make as they meet.

    Dazedly, you wonder if you're dreaming.

    Arch reaches down, teasing your clit with fingers that quickly get soaked by your juices. The three of you drag in ragged breaths, watching in fascination. Camden climaxes quickly with a grunt, gritting his teeth. Unlike his brother, he doesn't pull out, and his knot swells and presses against your entrance. The pressure makes you go dizzy. His knot finally pops in, locking him into place. Arch continues to rub your clit until you come to another orgasm, arching back against him.

    You either pass out for a few seconds or you're so high that you're unaware of your surroundings, because when you finally come back to your senses, you're on the bed sandwiched between the two brothers. Camden is still locked inside you and will be for some time. You feel warm and relaxed. Camden's hands sweep over your body soothingly and Arch kisses your shoulder. Between their ministrations, you end up dozing off.

    You're going to have a lot to talk about in the morning.

~•~•~•~

  You can't begin to imagine how difficult this was to write! I spent three days trying to think of another idea but it felt like Part 2 had set me on this path. Of course, I could have had Arch walk out but I liked that idea less.

  Also, can you tell it has been a while since I wrote such spice? It was very awkward but I made it! I hope it was enjoyable at the least. &lt;3

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #terato #werewolf #heat #rut