#hair loss medical term

[fatphobiabusters]

People say weight loss is for sure possible...but no one agrees on how to do it.

Dieting works...but there's now an "ob*sity epidemic" despite people lining the pockets of weight loss corporations more than ever.

Weight loss products work...but weight loss corporations are making the Exact. Same. Claims. about their products that they did in 1910 with the products that were sold and then discontinued over a century ago.

Humans are all meant to be thin...but there are families of fat people who stay fat no matter how much "willpower" they muster and have fat ancestors going back generations.

It's about health and not looks...but people who are losing weight due to smoking, cancer, illness, mental disorders, and other health conditions are praised for their weight loss and told to keep going.

Fat people aren't oppressed...but fat people have no positive representation, no proper access to clothing, face a wage gap, endure deadly medical neglect and abuse, have their deaths by police brutality excused with their fatness, and countless other aspects of oppression that they deal with every single day.

Fat people are all fat because they overeat...but you can point to any fat person on the sidewalk and there's an extreme likelihood that they're on their 30th diet attempt in the past 10 years while there's thin people who eat whatever they want, however much they want, and don't exercise yet never gain a single pound.

Fat people are privileged because they gorge on unnecessary food...but fat people are overwhelmingly living in poverty, are not paid the same amount of money for the same work as their thin peers, are not chosen for promotions, are turned away from jobs that an employer wants more than a "pretty face" for, are at major risk of workplace harassment, and endure oppression even beyond just that.

Fat people aren't treated badly...but people use the word "fat" as a metaphor and synonym for "ugly," "unlovable," and "unworthy," while at the same time believing "fat," the most basic term for a specific body type, is a dirty, taboo insult you should never allow to leave your lips.

Professionals agree that fatness is inherently bad...but almost any weight-related research study that people, especially weight loss corporations, use to justify demonizing fat people has the worst methodology imaginable with validity errors and logical fallacies galore as well as conflicts of interest due to how many of these studies just happen to be funded by the corporations that make millions and billions of dollars off of the demonization these studies promote.

All health conditions a fat person has are caused by their fatness...but there is not a single health condition that only fat people obtain, many fat people developed the health condition in question when they were thin or thinner, weight gain is often a symptom of said health conditions, fat people are not given the same amount or quality of healthcare as thin people, and repeated starvation attempts (also known as "yo-yo dieting") have been shown to worsen a person's health.

Fat people can't have eating disorders...but fat people are the group encouraged to partake in disordered eating by this fatphobic world the most and then are not given any support to recover.

Thin privilege doesn't exist...but thin people who see the way fat people are treated in society do their absolute damndest and take whatever drastic measures they have to in order to prevent themselves from ever becoming one of "Them."

Fit and fat are mutually exclusive...but there are fat athletes as far up as even the Olympics, and sports are intentionally made inaccessible to fat people to the point of fat children even being turned away when trying to join a sports team.

Fat people are ugly...but all we grow up ever seeing in media are thin, conventionally attractive people painted with layers of makeup next to fat characters who were intentionally designed with an ill-fitting outfit, matted hair, and all other traits that fit the "ugly" stereotype that the character designer could manage to slap onto a single person.

Fat people are big, bad bullies...but studies show that weight is the number one excuse that children use to bully their peers, outcompeting a multitude of other oppressed identities considered.

Fat women are just men and vice versa...but sometimes they're androgynous, and sometimes they're basically nonbinary, and sometimes they're just things, and sometimes they're nothing at all depending on what labels a fatphobe decides will hurt a fat person most that day.

Fat people are subhuman...but fat people deserve the same love, respect, compassion, and support that all people are born inherently deserving.

Fatphobia isn't real, but—

-Mod Worthy

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 02

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 9k

warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/2

<previous | next>

© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.

What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.

He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?

“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.

Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.

This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat. 

“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.

“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”

You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.

“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”

It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other. 

Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”

“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.

Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.

The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.

“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”

You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.

“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh. 

“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.

“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”

Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs. 

He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.

“I take it you’ve killed before?” 

There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.

“I have.”

“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”

“Are you asking…?”

“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”

It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.

You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”

You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.

Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.

One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.

You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.

Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too. 

Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything. 

It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.

Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.

“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”

“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama. 

“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”

“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”

“Vampire?”

Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.

“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.

“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.

You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.

“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”

“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.

“Probably, yeah.”

He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.

There’s another voice.

Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.

As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.

“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”

“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”

“I changed my mind.”

You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”

“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”

“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”

“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.

You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.

“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”

You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t. 

“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.

His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.

When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.

Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.

Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it. 

After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.

You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.

As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body? 

The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.

Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.

It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.

Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on. 

The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?

At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again. 

You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”

“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home. 

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.

“Have you even been outside of this town?”

Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”

The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”

He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.

Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking. 

It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now? 

Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.

Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently? 

Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well. 

Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.

Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.

But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.

About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.

You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body. 

Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.

The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction. 

Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile. 

“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off. 

Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though. 

“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction. 

Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.

“A proposition, you say?”

“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”

“There is no catch. I want to die.”

The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened. 

You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”

“You’re Jeon’s human?”

“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.

“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.

“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”

“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”

The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”

“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”

“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”

“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.

“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”

You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”

That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.

“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”

The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”

You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.

“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”

The smiling vampire shakes his head. 

“No.”

You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much. 

Then, a void does take over.

Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier. 

He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?

The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood. 

He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.

Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.

“Easy, man.”

“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”

The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw. 

“She wanted to die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”

There is no pulse.

“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.

You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds. 

Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants. 

You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.

Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie. 

You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss. 

“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”

Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy. 

He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”

You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”

It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.

“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”

You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you. 

But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.

He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”

Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”

He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”

Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.

“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”

“But why… Why would you want that?” 

You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?

“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”

“You don’t know me though.”

“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”

Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.

“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”

He’s about to leave when you call for him.

“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”

He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”

You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.

“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.

It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”

“I have some… questions.”

He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.

“Yeah… Is that normal?”

“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”

“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”

He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.

“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”

While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.

“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”

Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.

“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”

“—You mean staked?”

He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”

“Any?”

What does he mean by that? Human and animal?

“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.

You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”

“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”

“Oh, okay.” 

Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take. 

“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”

You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”

“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”

Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face. 

“What?”

You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”

Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?

“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”

Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”

It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’

“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”

‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’

Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.

You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”

“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”

“That you weren’t going to turn me?”

“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”

The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.

“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”

Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others. 

“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.

You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.

“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.

Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.

You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.

“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.

Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling. 

One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.

“How come everything is so… easy?”

He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”

You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.

So you nod.

“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”

“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.

Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”

You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”

“Also…?”

He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”

You shake your head.

“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”

“No.”

“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”

Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.

He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.

Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.

“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”

He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly. 

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.

“Well, if you want it… go for it.”

“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it. 

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”

He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”

His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”

“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”

Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.

“You lied? About not liking my blood?”

“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”

You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.

“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”

You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him. 

He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.

Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.

“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips. 

You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing. 

“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”

You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.

It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.

He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”

You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.

He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”

“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”

You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much,  but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?

“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”

You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.

“So, you’re really just… ancient?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”

He rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”

“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”

“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”

“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”

Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.

“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”

“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna take a dip?”

“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”

“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.

<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3

[dr-hairblog]

DR-HAİR - DEVASA+

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In conclusion, hair transplant in Turkey employs advanced procedures like tissue expansion, scalp reduction, and transplantation of hair follicles to restore hair density and coverage area. The high success rate of these procedures has made Turkey a go-to destination for people seeking a permanent solution to hair loss. The future of hair transplantation looks promising, with continual advancements in techniques and technology.

Harnessing the Power of Regenerative Medicine in Hair Transplant Techniques in Turkey

In recent years, Turkey has become a global hub for hair transplant procedures, thanks to the innovative transplant techniques and technology being used. This has been largely driven by advancements in regenerative medicine, a rapidly evolving field that focuses on replacing or regenerating human cells, tissues, or organs to restore normal function. One of the most promising innovations in this space is hair cloning.

Hair cloning, a cutting-edge transplant technology, has been a game-changer in the field of hair transplant methods. It involves the extraction of healthy dermal papilla cells - the cells at the base of the hair follicle that are responsible for hair growth. These cells are then cultured in a laboratory, where they multiply. The multiplied cells are then injected back into the patient's scalp, where they continue to multiply and stimulate new hair growth.

This technique offers significant advantages over traditional hair transplant methods. For starters, it eliminates the need to harvest a large number of hair follicles from a donor area, reducing the time and discomfort associated with the procedure. Additionally, it holds the potential to produce a limitless supply of hair follicles, potentially offering a permanent solution for those suffering from hair loss.

Moreover, the evolution of hair transplant techniques in Turkey has been remarkable. From the conventional strip method to the more advanced follicular unit extraction (FUE), Turkey has been at the forefront of adopting and perfecting these techniques. The focus on minimally invasive procedures, coupled with the use of state-of-the-art transplant technology, has made the country a preferred destination for those seeking hair transplant procedures.

To sum up, the future of hair transplant in Turkey looks promising, thanks to the advances in regenerative medicine and the adoption of innovative hair transplant techniques. Whether it's the use of dermal papilla cells in hair cloning or the constant refinement of transplant techniques, Turkey's hair transplant sector continues to push the boundaries of what's possible, offering hope to millions of people worldwide who are affected by hair loss.

Pre-Operative Assessment and Post-Operative Care in Hair Transplant Procedures in Turkey

In the domain of hair transplant surgery, the pre-operative assessment is a vital step in ensuring a successful outcome. This comprehensive evaluation is specifically designed to ensure the patient is an ideal candidate for the procedure. In Turkey, renowned for its expertise in hair transplant procedures, the pre-operative assessment involves a thorough examination of the patient's medical history and current health status. This detailed evaluation helps in designing a transplant procedure that ensures optimal results tailored to the individual's unique needs and preferences.

Transplant pre-operative instructions are also an integral part of the assessment phase. These guidelines, provided by the medical team, inform the patients about necessary preparations before the surgery, including dietary restrictions, medication adjustments, and lifestyle modifications. Adherence to these instructions is crucial for reducing potential complications and promoting a smooth transplant recovery time.

Moving on to the post-operative care, this facet is equally significant in the hair transplant procedure. After the surgery, patients are provided with clear and detailed transplant post-operative instructions. These instructions may encompass various aspects such as wound care, activity restrictions, and signs of complications to monitor. Following these post-operative instructions meticulously plays a key role in the successful healing of the transplant site and minimizing any potential side-effects.

The transplant healing process is a gradual journey and requires patience and proper care. In most cases, the transplant recovery time can vary based on individual factors such as the patient's overall health and the extent of the transplant procedure. However, with diligent adherence to the post-operative care instructions, most patients can expect to see the initial results of their hair transplant within a few months.

To sum up, the process of hair transplant in Turkey, from the pre-operative assessment to the post-operative care, is a comprehensive journey that requires adherence to transplant pre-operative and post-operative instructions. This commitment not only reduces the transplant recovery time but also maximizes the effectiveness of the procedure, paving the way for a successful and satisfying hair restoration experience.

Understanding the Risks, Success Rates, Side Effects, and Alternatives of Hair Transplant in Turkey

Hair transplant in Turkey has become a popular solution for individuals dealing with hair loss or thinning hair. However, like all medical procedures, it's important to understand the transplant risks, side effects, and success rate before making a decision.

When considering a hair transplant, one of the first aspects you might be curious about is the transplant success rate. The success rate of hair transplants in Turkey is generally high, but it can vary depending on individual factors such as the patient's general health, the extent of their hair loss, and the quality of their donor hair.

Understanding the potential transplant risks is also crucial. Some common risks include infection, scarring, unnatural-looking hair, and the possibility that some of the transplanted hair follicles won't "take," or start growing hair. There may also be side effects such as swelling, bruising, and temporary hair shedding.

Post-procedure, transplant results can be a significant concern. Typically, it takes a few months to start seeing the full results, and the transplanted hair should look natural and blend in with the rest of your hair. However, results can vary based on individual factors.

While hair transplants can be an effective solution for many, it's not the only option. There are several effective transplant alternatives to consider. These may include medications that slow hair loss, laser therapy to stimulate hair growth, and lifestyle changes like a healthier diet and stress management.

In conclusion, a hair transplant in Turkey can be an effective solution for hair loss, but it's essential to understand the risks, side effects, and success rate. Alternatives are also available for those who may not be ideal candidates for a transplant.

Unveiling the Secrets of Hair Transplant in Turkey: Cost, Benefits, and Visual Evidence

Firstly, the cost of hair transplant in Turkey has been a significant factor attracting thousands of individuals worldwide. The country offers competitive prices compared to other nations, making it a preferred destination for those seeking hair transplant solutions. However, it is essential to note that the final hair transplant cost can vary based on several factors, including the complexity of the procedure, the extent of hair loss, and the specific technique used.

Next, let's highlight the numerous hair transplantation benefits that this procedure offers. Hair transplant in Turkey promises a permanent solution to hair loss, providing individuals with a renewed sense of confidence and self-esteem. The procedure also boasts a high success rate, with most patients experiencing significant hair growth within a year after the transplant. Additionally, the recovery period is typically swift, with minimal discomfort or side effects, allowing patients to resume their normal activities shortly after the procedure.

It's also important to see hair transplant before and after images and videos. They serve as visual evidence of successful procedures and can help potential patients understand what to expect. Although individual results can vary, these hair transplant images and videos generally depict a significant improvement in hair density and coverage.

Lastly, reading hair transplant reviews can be incredibly beneficial for anyone considering the procedure. These reviews offer first-hand experiences from patients who have undergone the procedure, providing insights into the process, recovery, and results. The overwhelmingly positive hair transplant reviews from Turkey often highlight the professionalism of the medical teams, the quality of care received, and, most importantly, the satisfactory results.

In conclusion, hair transplant in Turkey offers a cost-effective solution with numerous benefits. The procedure's success is evident in the before and after images, videos, and the countless positive reviews from satisfied patients. As with any medical procedure, it's crucial to conduct thorough research and consult with a medical professional to ensure it's the best option for you.

Navigating the World of Hair Transplant in Turkey: Insights from Blogs, Articles, Forums and Personal Experiences

When considering a hair transplant in Turkey, it's crucial to arm yourself with the latest information and research. One of the best ways to do this is by diving into the wealth of knowledge available on hair transplant blogs, articles, and forums.

Hair transplant blogs are a treasure trove of information. They often contain real-life accounts of people who have undergone the procedure, providing an insider's perspective on what to expect. These blogs also frequently feature expert advice and tips to help guide you through the process.

In addition to blogs, hair transplant articles are another valuable source of information. These pieces delve into the science behind the procedure, discussing the latest techniques and technologies used in hair transplants. They can provide a more technical perspective, helping you understand the intricacies of the procedure.

For a more interactive experience, consider joining a hair transplant forum. These online platforms offer a place for individuals considering or who have undergone a hair transplant to share their experiences, ask questions, and offer support. They can be a great place to gather practical advice and find out about the latest hair transplant news.

Another invaluable resource is hair transplant research. These studies can shed light on the efficacy and safety of various techniques. Understanding the science behind the process can help you make a more informed decision.

Finally, never underestimate the importance of personal hair transplant experiences. Hearing first-hand accounts can provide an honest and realistic view of what to expect. These stories can provide comfort, offer tips, and help you prepare for your own journey.

In summary, when considering a hair transplant in Turkey, make use of the rich resources available in hair transplant blogs, articles, forums, research, and personal experiences. They can provide you with a well-rounded view, ensuring you are well-informed and prepared for your procedure.

Understanding the Hair Transplant Process: A Comprehensive Quiz, Testimonials, FAQs, and More

Embarking on the journey of a hair transplant in Turkey can be a significant decision. It is a process that involves not only the actual procedure but also managing transplant expectations, monitoring transplant progress, and understanding transplant maintenance. This section aims to provide you with a comprehensive guide on these critical aspects.

Before you decide to undergo a hair transplant, it is essential to evaluate your understanding of the process and your readiness. This is where a hair transplant quiz can come in handy. It can assess your knowledge about the procedure, its benefits, and potential risks. The quiz can help you understand if you have realistic expectations about the results.

In addition to a hair transplant quiz, hair transplant testimonials can also provide valuable insights. These accounts from individuals who have undergone the procedure can shed light on the actual experiences and outcomes. They can give you a glimpse of what to expect, from the initial consultation to the recovery period.

Another resource that can be beneficial is a collection of hair transplant FAQs, or frequently asked questions. These address common concerns and queries about the procedure. From understanding the techniques used to knowing about the recovery process, these FAQs can offer a wealth of information for potential candidates.

Managing transplant expectations is a critical part of the process. It's important to remember that results can vary from person to person. Factors such as the individual's hair type, the extent of hair loss, and the overall health of the person can impact the outcomes.

Monitoring your transplant progress is another aspect that needs attention. Regular follow-ups with your medical team can ensure that the recovery is on track, and any complications are addressed promptly. This ongoing monitoring can also help in evaluating the success of the transplant.

Finally, understanding transplant maintenance is essential for long-lasting results. This involves proper hair care practices post-transplant, including a suitable hair care regime, healthy lifestyle choices, and regular check-ups.

In conclusion, getting a hair transplant in Turkey involves more than just the procedure. It's a comprehensive process that requires adequate knowledge, realistic expectations, and diligent maintenance. Armed with resources like a hair transplant quiz, testimonials, and FAQs, you can make a well-informed decision and navigate the journey successfully.

Understanding the Process of Hair Transplant in Turkey: A Closer Look at the Tools and Techniques

When considering a hair transplant in Turkey, it is essential to understand the process, which includes a hair transplant analysis, scalp examination, the use of local anesthesia, and the actual transplant session. This article delves into the importance of these stages and the specific transplant tools employed during the procedure.

The first essential stage of a hair transplant is the hair transplant analysis. This thorough evaluation is conducted to assess the individual's hair loss pattern, the condition of the donor area, and the best possible treatment approach. The analysis provides a comprehensive understanding of the patient's hair situation, which is critical for successful surgical hair restoration.

A scalp examination is the next crucial step in the process. Using specialized hair transplant equipment like a hair transplant microscope, the surgeon can clearly view the scalp's condition. The purpose of this examination is to identify any underlying conditions that might affect the transplant's success, such as scalp infections or diseases. It also helps in mapping out the area for the transplant, determining the number of grafts needed, and planning the hairline design.

The use of local anesthesia is another essential part of the hair transplant process in Turkey. It helps numb the scalp area, ensuring that the patient feels no pain during the procedure. This step is vital for a comfortable and pain-free transplant session.

The actual transplant session is where the magic happens. Specialized hair transplant tools play a critical role in this process. These include the hair transplant microscope, which aids in the precise extraction and implantation of hair follicles, ensuring that each graft is handled with care to maximize its survival rate.

Finally, the surgical hair restoration process utilizes advanced hair transplant equipment to ensure the best results. These tools aid in the precise extraction and implantation of grafts, ensuring that each follicle is placed in the correct direction and angle for a natural-looking result.

In conclusion, a hair transplant in Turkey involves a comprehensive process that includes a detailed hair transplant analysis, a thorough scalp examination, the use of local anesthesia, and a meticulously conducted transplant session. The use of specialized hair transplant tools and equipment is critical in ensuring the success of the procedure.

Vital Aspects of Hair Transplantation: Follow-up, Guarantee, Tips, Advice, Support, and Community

Hair transplantation in Turkey has experienced a considerable surge in popularity over the years due to its advanced techniques, experienced professionals, and affordable costs. However, the process involves more than just the surgery itself. It encompasses a comprehensive journey which includes the transplant follow-up, transplant guarantee, and an array of hair transplant tips and advice to ensure optimal results.

The transplant follow-up is a critical aspect of the hair transplant journey. It involves regular check-ins with the medical team to monitor the progress of the transplant and to address any potential complications that may arise. These follow-ups are usually scheduled at regular intervals and provide an opportunity to discuss any concerns or questions about the healing process or the results of the transplant.

In addition to follow-up appointments, a comprehensive hair transplant plan should also include a transplant guarantee. This guarantee serves as an assurance to the patient that the transplantation will be successful and that any issues that might arise will be addressed promptly and professionally. It is a significant indicator of the commitment of the professionals in ensuring a satisfactory outcome.

Hair transplant tips and advice are also integral components of the entire journey. These tips, ranging from pre-operative care suggestions to post-operative recovery guidelines, help patients prepare for the transplant procedure and ensure the best possible results. Moreover, the advice can provide insights into what to expect during the healing process, how to care for the transplanted hair, and when to expect hair growth.

Hair transplant support extends beyond the medical team and involves a broader network, including the hair transplant community. This community, often formed by individuals who have undergone or are considering a hair transplant, can provide a sense of camaraderie and shared experiences. It can serve as a valuable resource for advice, encouragement, and support throughout the hair transplant journey.

In conclusion, a successful hair transplant involves more than just the surgery. It's a comprehensive process that includes a consistent transplant follow-up, a solid transplant guarantee, effective hair transplant tips and advice, and a supportive hair transplant community. Understanding these aspects can lead to a more informed decision, ensuring a positive experience and satisfactory results.

Unraveling the Evolution and Innovations in the Hair Transplant Industry in Turkey

The hair transplant industry in Turkey has grown and evolved incredibly over the years. Looking back at the hair transplant history, it is fascinating to observe how much the field has changed and improved. It all began with the introduction of basic hair transplant techniques, which have now evolved into highly sophisticated methods. The country's robust training programs and strict regulations have made it a leading destination for this procedure.

Hair transplant trends have always been dynamic, continuously adapting to the needs and demands of patients worldwide. In Turkey, the trends have evolved from the use of basic hair transplant techniques to the adoption of more advanced and less invasive methods. This evolution is a testament to the continuous innovation and development in the hair transplant industry in Turkey.

One of the most noteworthy hair transplant innovations in Turkey is the introduction of the FUE (Follicular Unit Extraction) technique. This method has revolutionized the industry, providing a more efficient and less invasive way of transplanting hair. It has set a new standard in the field and has become a pivotal part of hair transplant training in Turkey.

Training plays a crucial role in the success and credibility of the hair transplant industry in Turkey. The country has made significant strides in offering comprehensive hair transplant training programs. These programs ensure that practitioners are well-equipped with the latest techniques and trends in the industry, enabling them to provide the best possible service to their patients.

In addition to innovative techniques and robust training, the hair transplant industry in Turkey is also marked by strict regulations. The hair transplant regulation in the country ensures that all procedures are carried out according to the highest standards of safety and efficiency. This helps to maintain the credibility of the industry and the trust of patients from all over the world.

In conclusion, the hair transplant industry in Turkey is a dynamic and evolving field, marked by continual innovation, comprehensive training, and strict regulation. It is a testament to the country's commitment to offering the best possible service to patients seeking hair transplant procedures. As the industry continues to evolve, it is exciting to imagine what the future holds for hair transplant trends in Turkey.

Ensuring Quality Control in the Hair Transplant Market: Updates, Studies, and Resources

The hair transplant market in Turkey has been experiencing a significant surge in recent years. This is largely due to the high-quality services offered at competitive prices. However, one crucial element that has continued to propel the market's growth is the emphasis on ensuring strict hair transplant quality control measures.

Quality control in hair transplant involves a systematic regulation of the procedures and processes involved in hair transplant operations. These measures are put in place to maintain the highest possible standards of service and ensure optimal results for patients. The use of the most up-to-date hair transplant updates and techniques is a key aspect of this process.

The hair transplant market is constantly evolving, with new research and hair transplant studies emerging regularly. These studies provide invaluable insights into the most effective methods of hair transplant and often lead to the development of advanced techniques. They serve as vital resources for both professionals in the field and individuals considering undergoing hair transplant surgery.

However, understanding these hair transplant updates and studies can often be daunting for the uninitiated. This is where hair transplant resources come in. Such resources are designed to break down complex studies into easy-to-understand information, providing potential patients with a wealth of knowledge about the procedure.

Among these resources, hair transplant guides prove extremely useful. These guides offer detailed explanations of the entire hair transplant process, from pre-operation preparations to post-operation care. They also cover various aspects of the procedure, such as the different techniques used, potential risks involved, and what to expect during recovery.

Moreover, a hair transplant glossary can be a handy tool for those unfamiliar with the terminologies used in the industry. Understanding these terms can significantly enhance one's comprehension of the procedure and hence, contribute to a more informed decision-making process.

In conclusion, the emphasis on hair transplant quality control, coupled with the availability of comprehensive hair transplant updates, studies, and resources, has greatly contributed to the robust growth of the hair transplant market in Turkey. It has not only boosted the confidence of potential patients but also elevated the standards of the industry as a whole.

Unraveling the Hair Transplant Network in Turkey: Facts, Statistics and Resources

In recent years, Turkey has established a strong reputation as a leading destination for hair transplant procedures. But before deciding on this life-changing procedure, it's important to have the right information at your fingertips. Luckily, resources like a hair transplant book, directory, and network are readily available, offering a wealth of knowledge on this topic.

A hair transplant book can provide an in-depth understanding of the procedure. It typically covers a wide range of topics, from understanding hair loss and its causes, to the different hair transplant techniques available. It gives an insight into the procedure's intricate details, helping potential patients to make informed decisions about their hair restoration journey.

On the other hand, a hair transplant directory is a comprehensive resource that provides vital information about the hair transplant network in Turkey. It contains a list of the clinics, their location, and services they offer. This way, you can compare and contrast different clinics to choose the one that fits your needs best.

The hair transplant network is a broader platform that connects patients, surgeons, and clinics. It is a community of people who share their experiences, advice, and recommendations. This network can be an invaluable resource for anyone considering a hair transplant in Turkey.

Looking at hair transplant statistics can also be helpful in understanding the success rate of this procedure in Turkey. These statistics provide a numerical perspective on the number of successful surgeries carried out, the rates of satisfaction among patients, and the percentage of patients who experienced significant hair growth post-operation.

Lastly, understanding hair transplant facts is crucial. These facts highlight the realistic expectations one should have from the procedure. They explain how factors like age, hair type, and the extent of hair loss can influence the results. They also shed light on the recovery process and aftercare measures.

In conclusion, acquiring knowledge from resources such as a hair transplant book, directory, and network, along with understanding the related statistics and facts, can significantly help anyone considering a hair transplant in Turkey. This wealth of information can guide you towards a successful hair restoration journey, making you confident and informed about your decision.

Debunking Hair Transplant Misconceptions: Understanding Terminology and Criteria in Turkey

In the realm of cosmetic procedures, hair transplant in Turkey has emerged as a popular option for individuals seeking to address hair loss. However, there are numerous hair transplant misconceptions and myths that often cloud the patient's understanding of the procedure. This section aims to debunk these misconceptions, clarify hair transplant terminology, and outline the critical hair transplant criteria to consider.

One of the prevalent hair transplant misconceptions is that the procedure is only for men. This is a myth. Hair transplant procedures are effective for both men and women suffering from significant hair loss. Another common myth is that hair transplants are always noticeable. With advancements in medical technology, hair transplants now achieve natural-looking results, making it difficult for people to tell whether someone has undergone the procedure.

Understanding hair transplant terminology is crucial for individuals considering the procedure. The term 'graft,' for instance, refers to a piece of skin containing hair follicles that is moved from the donor area to the balding or thinning area. Another commonly used term is 'FUE,' which stands for Follicular Unit Extraction, a popular hair transplant method that involves extracting individual hair follicles and implanting them in the balding areas.

The hair transplant definitions can be complex, but they are an integral part of the process. For instance, the 'donor area' refers to the area of the scalp where hair follicles are extracted for transplantation. 'Recipient area,' on the other hand, designates the area where the follicles are implanted.

Lastly, the hair transplant criteria in Turkey are quite stringent to ensure patient safety and satisfaction. A potential candidate must have a sufficient donor area from which hair can be harvested. Furthermore, the individual should be in good general health to tolerate the procedure and heal properly afterwards. It is also essential that the patient has realistic expectations about the results of a hair transplant.

In conclusion, understanding the misconceptions, terminology, definitions, and criteria associated with hair transplants can greatly enhance a patient's decision-making process and overall experience with hair transplants in Turkey.

Navigating Hair Transplant in Turkey: Recommendations, Suggestions, and Tips

If you're considering a hair transplant in Turkey, there are several key factors to take into account to ensure you get the best results possible. Here, we'll provide you with some valuable hair transplant recommendations, as well as suggestions and tips to guide you through the process.

Firstly, it's essential to thoroughly research your options before undertaking a hair transplant. This includes getting a hair transplant referral from a trusted source, such as a friend, family member, or even a healthcare professional, who has firsthand knowledge about the procedure.

Next, consider the different methods available for hair transplant and make a hair transplant comparison. This will help you determine which procedure is best suited for your specific hair loss condition, lifestyle, and budget. Some methods may offer faster results, while others may be more affordable or less invasive.

In terms of hair transplant suggestions, always ensure that you choose a reputable clinic or surgeon. It's crucial to verify their qualifications, experience, and success rate with previous patients. This can be done by checking online reviews or asking for before and after photos of past patients.

Additionally, it's recommended to have a thorough consultation with your surgeon before the procedure. This will give you an opportunity to discuss your expectations, potential risks, and the recovery process. It's also a good time to ask any questions you may have about the procedure.

Lastly, aftercare is a critical part of the hair transplant process. Make sure to follow all post-procedure care instructions provided by your surgeon. This will help ensure optimal results and minimize potential complications.

Remember, getting a hair transplant is a major decision that should not be taken lightly. It's important to take your time, do your research, and make an informed decision. With these hair transplant tips to guide you, you'll be well on your way to achieving the hair restoration results you desire.

Assessing Your Hair Transplant Options in Turkey: Considerations, Pros and Cons

When considering a hair transplant in Turkey, one of the first steps involves a comprehensive hair transplant assessment. This usually entails a thorough evaluation of your hair loss pattern, hair quality, and the potential donor site(s). The goal is to devise a customized treatment plan tailored to address your specific needs.

A typical hair transplant evaluation takes into account several factors. The extent and pattern of your hair loss, the quality and quantity of your remaining hair, and your overall health status are all significant considerations. Furthermore, your expectations and goals for the procedure are also weighed in during the assessment.

An essential part of the assessment process is understanding the hair transplant pros and cons. On the one hand, a hair transplant can significantly enhance your appearance and self-confidence. It can restore not just your hair, but also your youthful look and vitality. On the other hand, like any surgical procedure, it carries potential risks and complications. These may include infection, scarring, and the possibility of the transplanted hair not looking as natural or as full as you would like.

When considering hair transplant options, it's paramount to take into account the various hair transplant varieties available. For instance, there are methods that involve transplanting individual follicles, while others involve transplanting small patches of scalp. Each method has its unique set of advantages and potential drawbacks. The best choice largely depends on your individual circumstances, including the extent of your hair loss, your hair type, and your personal preferences.

In conclusion, a hair transplant in Turkey requires careful consideration and thorough evaluation. Keep in mind the pros and cons, take the time to understand the different hair transplant options, and ensure you opt for a variety that best suits your needs. Your decision should not be rushed but taken after comprehensive research and consultation.

An Overview and Introduction to Hair Transplant in Turkey

Hair transplant in Turkey has become increasingly popular in recent years. This medical procedure, as the name suggests, involves transplanting hair from one part of the body to another. It is commonly used to treat baldness and hair thinning. This article provides a hair transplant overview, introducing you to this revolutionary procedure that has changed the lives of many.

Hair transplant is a surgical procedure that involves removing hair follicles from a 'donor site' and implanting them on the balding or thinning area, known as the 'recipient site'. The donor site is typically an area with plenty of hair, often the back or sides of the head. This hair transplant introduction is crucial for understanding the basic principles of the procedure.

When you look at the global hair transplant industry, Turkey stands out as a leading destination. This is due to the combination of highly skilled specialists, advanced medical facilities, and affordable prices. The country's strategic location between Europe and Asia also makes it easily accessible to patients from around the world.

In the context of a hair transplant overview, one should note that there are different types of hair transplant procedures. The choice of the procedure usually depends on the individual's hair type, the extent of hair loss, and their personal preferences. The two most common methods are Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT) and Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE).

To conclude this hair transplant introduction, it is important to note that, like any other medical procedure, hair transplant comes with its own set of potential risks and complications. However, when performed by a competent and experienced specialist, these risks can be minimized significantly. Furthermore, the results of a successful hair transplant can be life-changing, enhancing not only one's appearance but also their self-esteem and confidence.

In the following sections, we will delve into more specifics about hair transplant in Turkey, including the cost, the recovery process, and patient experiences.

[actuallysaiyan]

Thank you for opening requests!!! I desperately needed some Nanami fluff (with slight angst, blame my hormones) 😔❤️

Reader is carrying Kento's first child, however the whole pregnancy was difficult, even putting reader's life on the line at times. Needless to say he's been quite supportive but during labor there's nothing he can do as he sees countless doctors rushing in the room.

warnings: angst, mentions of hospitals, mentions of abortions, difficult pregnancy, pregnancy, giving birth, probable mentions of blood, mentions of death and loss, happy ending!!!, breastfeeding, lots of crying word count: 1.3k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: your pregnancy was tough and though you were determined to carry your child to term, it didn't come without a few bumps in the road. now faced with the prospect of losing you, Kento sits and waits in what he believes must be his own purgatory. a/n: Thank you for this amazing request!!! I hope you enjoy!!! Also please note I've never given birth nor been pregnant, so if things seem off, then that's why.

He’s nearly tearing his hair out of his head as he sits near the door to the hospital room where you are. You’re in labor, yet he’s not allowed inside the room. The pregnancy had been so difficult, and even with your beloved doing everything in his power to support you, the coming of your child was something that needed much more medical intervention than previously thought.

Tears sting his eyes as he watches so many doctors enter the room you’re in right now. Kento thinks about how beautiful you looked when you first became pregnant. You were absolutely glowing, and you were very much excited to carry your first born to term. Things got complicated within the second month, the doctor finding a few anomalies. Yet he had told both of you that it wouldn’t be anything to worry about. Turns out ‘nothing to worry about’ is a lot to worry about. The next ultrasound proved to be nothing but a lot of bad news. The doctor had even suggested terminating the pregnancy and to try again, but Kento had pushed for this one to keep going.

You had agreed. The doctor promised to do everything in his power to ensure that you’d be fine. Lots of bedrest, no stress and all kinds of vitamins. Lots of doctors appointments. Kento had been there with you the entire time as well. He’d leave work early most days just to be there with you at the apartment. You slept most of the day, but Kento was sure to help you with anything else you needed to do on a daily basis.

The last doctor’s appointment had been a tough one. You and Kento received the news that the birth could be extra complicated. The doctor warned about how it could potentially put you in a very rough spot in terms of health after this. He had told Kento that he’d probably need to take up most of the parental role at the beginning. Once you were allowed to go home after the birth, you’d be most likely on bedrest once again.

Kento looks over at the door of the room, his eyes still so cloudy with tears. He’s gripping the plastic of the chair, wanting nothing more than to burst into that room and hold your hand. From time to time, he’d hear the doctors calling out to one another. He heard little bits and pieces, and his heart rate escalated as he heard one of them talk about saving the baby over you. Kento wished he could go into the room and tell them not to do that.

He can’t help himself anymore. Tears spill from his eyes, and Kento removes his sunglasses. He reaches into his pocket for the monogrammed handkerchief to wipe his tears. His heart is in his throat and feels sick to his stomach. His hands shake as he reaches for the phone in his pocket, wondering who he should call just to talk to in the moment. He’s scared and he’s never been more scared in his entire life right now. Kento feels small and insignificant. What kind of husband is he if he can’t even be with his ailing wife right now?

The minutes drag on and on and on. It’s beginning to hurt him deeply. Like tiny little cuts all over his heart, breaking open and tearing the muscle to shreds. His breathing is shaky as he watches less and less people go into the room. His mind wanders; the worst possible outcomes rushing through every little thought. You’ll be dead before he can even come into the room and see you. He’ll never get to see your beautiful smile again. Kento thinks of all the times he was graced with that angelic smile. It hurts so deeply, he swears he’s going to be sick.

Then, a miracle happens… he hears the cry of a baby. His baby. His heart skips a beat and comes back thumping like a hummingbird. The baby was alright. But were you alright? Did you make it out of it in one piece? Kento knows he doesn’t care if he has to take care of your little one for the rest of his days if it means he gets to have you in his arms again. He’ll gladly be the best dad to your little baby and give you all the time you need to rest.

A few minutes later, one of the nurses slowly approaches him. She has a tiny little bundle in her arms, and the tears begin to well up in Kento’s eyes once more.

“Nanami-san?” She calls out to him, and he gets up from his chair and approaches her.

“It’s me…I’m Kento Nanami.”

She unveils the little bundle and Nanami begins to cry when he sees his little daughter. She’s crying a little, and he sees that she has his eyes. His heart feels so full for  a moment, then he begins to think back to you. The nurse hands him the small baby and soon she’s looking up at her dad.

“Your wife needs a little more care. She’s lost a lot of blood—”

Kento’s eyes widen, “Will she be okay?!”

The nurse smiles patiently, “Your wife will be okay. She just needs a little extra care. The doctors have stopped the bleeding. I just thought you’d like to see your little one.”

Kento sighs a breath of relief. His heart feels full again. And then he hiccups softly when he feels his little baby reaching out to him. She’s so tiny and so soft and so cute. Her eyes look just like his own. She has your nose and your smile. And she has his ears, which makes him laugh.

“If you’d like to come with me, I can get you situated in a comfortable room and we’ll bring your wife in when she’s ready to be in the recovery room.”

Nanami nods happily; he’s at a loss for words. He follows the nurse to a recovery room that was set up for the baby and the mother. He’s seated in a very comfortable chair, the little daughter still safely nestled in his arms. The nurse tells him she’ll be back with his wife once she’s ready to be in recovery.

At that moment. Kento begins to fall in love all over again. His little baby is really here in his arms. She coos and coughs a little, still getting used to being outside in the world. She’s so tiny and so precious. More tears slide down his cheek as he leans down to press the softest little kiss on her forehead.

“Hi my sweetness…you’re a part of the Nanami family now. Yes you are, my little angel.”

His words surprise him a little, but he’s been waiting for this moment for so long. It felt agonizing to watch you go through the worst pregnancy ever. It’s all worth it to finally be able to hold this little bundle of joy. He presses another kiss to her forehead and he begins to relax a little more.

After an hour, the nurse knocks on the door. Then she opens it, and she and another nurse are wheeling in his wife on a gurney. You look at Kento and you see the tears in his eyes. He’s so relieved to see you well enough to be here with him. Kento gets up as the bed is settled into the right position.

“You did it, my love. You gave birth to our little angel.” Kento says as he begins to settle the sleeping baby into your arms. She fusses a little and you undo your hospital gown top to let her feed from your breast.

“I’m so grateful, Ken. I didn’t know what was going to happen…and I…” you hiccup softly. Your little girl latches onto the nipple and you feel your heart filling with joy as she begins to suckle.

“Shhh…it’s okay, my love. We’re okay. You’re okay.” Kento reassures you.

He looks at you feeding your daughter, and he knows nothing will ever take either of you away from him. Nothing.

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten: Part Two

Azriel wakes to find himself with everything he'd never allowed himself to wish for. Now, faced with the reality of all he thought he wanted, he must come to terms with his desires and the unexpected direction his life had taken.

Word count - 3564

A/N - Thank you all so much for reading the first part of my little story and for all the lovely comments and words of encouragement. I'm still learning how to post and interact on here, a few people asked to be added to a taglist which I've tried to create but I'm not sure if it actually works.

Part One ☪ Part Three

Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes

Azriel

Azriel was still under Madja’s knurled fingers as they palpated his temples, the soothing chill of her healing magic drifted over tender, swollen skin. Her copper eyes assessed his face closely and he schooled his features into a blank mask. His gaze drifted over the curve of her shoulder to meet Rhys as he lingered by the open doors of the balcony. The bland smile, the loose set of his shoulders, and the hands that hung casually in the pockets of his trousers irked Azriel. After so many years it wasn’t difficult to read this feigned nonchalance, the worry it masked beneath.

“A lingering effect of the head injury, exacerbated by the bloodsbane.” Madja’s fingers continued to probe as Azriel returned his attention to her. Thickness lingered on his tongue; left over from the medication she’d administered on her arrival to reign in his fever. His head felt clearer now, where his shadows had been silent before they sang again, murmuring of the almost imperceptible anxious shift of Rhys’ weight on the floorboards. Elsewhere the House of Wind was quiet and empty, Elain having fled into Rhys’ arms with a demand to be winnowed home without sparing a glance in his direction. Azriel had been left to stew in solitude until his brother had returned with the ancient healer tucked in his arms, greying spindrift hair windswept, her face lined with wrinkles and kind concern.

“Some amnesia isn’t uncommon with an injury like this,” Madja continued finally pulling her hands away from his face. “Though to ascertain its true extent you must tell us what you remember shadow-singer.” She retreated from him into the chair Elain had occupied earlier, righted by Rhys, and slowly lowered herself on creaking joints. Azriel balked a little under the attention as he tried to force himself to recollect. Pain brewed between his eyes. He remembered the visit to Hewn City, the scheming; the gifting of Nesta’s made blade to Eris. He remembered the solstice party, the disaster of his foray with Elain afterward, and his brother’s wrath. The ensuing weeks had been busy, his mornings occupied with training the Valkyries and concocting obstacle courses modeled after the Blood Rite qualifier. The afternoons and evenings spent keeping tabs on Eris and following up on the dead leads from whispers and fables of high-fae women bearing winged babes. Everything after was hazy, difficult to hold, and worsened the pain in his head if he tried to focus for too long.

“Feyre,” he said, and Rhys cocked an eyebrow, his face encouraging him to continue. “We were following leads on the delivery of winged babes.” The darkening of Rhys’ features filled Azriel with a sense of foreboding. “Feyre,” he continued, “is she…Is the babe...” He trailed off, unsure of how to broach the topic. Rhys’ features softened, understanding his brother had misinterpreted the emotion to be driven by his grief and loss and not for the male before him. Shoulders pulled forward in a rare display of vulnerability, scarred fingers clasping his knees for stability, Rhys struggled to recall a recent memory of seeing his brother so open, so vulnerable. He hadn’t seen him this lost since their youth in the war camps.

“Feyre,” Rhy drawled, fixing Azriel with what he hoped was an abating expression. “And the babe, we named him Nyx, they’re both well. Perfect.” Rhys watched his brother process the information, the small twitch of the corner of his mouth the only sign of his surprise. Watched as Azriel came to terms with the missing months in the timeline, Feyre still had half of her pregnancy to go during the solstice. How would he even begin to broach the missing years? “You don’t remember anything about the attack?” Rhys probed, Azriel bristled under the line of questioning.

“No.” His fingers danced over his injured abdomen and trailed the bandages before climbing up to rub over the empty feeling in his chest, worse than any wound he’d ever gotten. It left him feeling cold and empty. The glint of his rings caught his eye. The signet on his little finger embossed with the Night Court symbol, a gift from Rhys centuries ago declaring him part of his found family, rubbed against an unfamiliar band of gold.

Feyre

Feyre locked eyes with Nuala as she crouched over Nyx playing with his toys on the carpet. The shadow-wraith stepped silently over to them and greeted the young heir to the Night Court with a small smile, producing a plate of homemade biscuits warm from the oven and smelling of cinnamon. Nyx fixed her with his cerulean eyes and toothy smile, cheeks chubby from the lingering fat of youth. Reaching out to fist the crumbling treat in one hand he thanked her, proceeding to get more crumbs in the creases of his clothes than he did in his mouth. Feyre’s heart swelled.

“I’ll be back soon,” she reached out to stroke his midnight hair as his arms waved, one brandishing a small wooden figure and the other his half-eaten treat.

“Okay, mama.” His eyes were drawn to her briefly before he returned to his imaginary world, moving his wooden figure into position to conquer the high ground of his drawing table, covered in drying paint and charcoal pencils.

“You’ll behave for Nuala won’t you?” Nyx nodded eagerly in agreement and proceeded to clash the figurine in his hand against a triangle formation of his enemies with a sound of delight. Feyre rose, leaning close to thank the shadow-wraith on her way to the door. After taking an indulgent glance backward she stepped into the breach, winnowing to a familiar path on the outskirts of Velaris.

Well-manicured grass thick with morning dew poked through the paving stones Feyre stepped between on the way up to the front door. The lower level was in darkness, the windows blending into the dark stone and winding vines. The second level blazed, fae light seeping out of the floor-to-ceiling windows though Feyre saw no movement.

The dark wood of the door opened on a wind under her fist, poised to knock, and Feyre took the invitation to enter. The foyer offset the chill of the early morning air and she made a beeline towards the dark staircase. The open door allowed a beam of sunlight into the sitting area, dark with the curtains drawn, illuminating the comfortable leather chairs perched around the large fireplace.

Feyre eyed the portrait hanging above the mantle, a solstice gift to Azriel the year after his mating ceremony, her heart ached. Depicting the moment after the vows had been said and the food exchanged, hands clasped between them bound by thick dark ribbon, Feyre remembered agonizing for days over how to properly encapsulate onto the canvas the shared look of love and adoration. Feyre couldn’t imagine how you had coped over the last few days, in the last months of pregnancy sitting vigil at Azriel’s bedside wondering if he would wake up. Presumably elated to hear he had awake, only to find him in the arms of another woman, one with whom he shared such history.

Continuing up the stairs to the second floor Feyre followed the fae lights towards the front of the house. The door to the nursery was ajar and she stopped short of the threshold. Your back was to her, one hand tracing the soft carved wood of the bassinet Azriel had spent every spare moment painstakingly crafting. The scent of fresh paint hung in the air, leftover from a few weeks ago when the pair of you decorated the walls with murals of snow-capped mountains, lush forest greenery, and frolicking animals.

Suspended over the bassinet in a sea of miniature stars hung multicolored globes, each spinning on their invisible axis. The spiraling constellation, you’d called it a galaxy, held all the planets known to your people. Feyre wondered how many you’d seen in your trips across the stars as you reached up into the field of magic closest to you to trace your fingers over a small planet of russet brown cratered with darker swirls.

“Rhys told me what happened.” Feyre watched as you continued to agitate the floating sphere. You didn’t turn. She crept closer into the room, torn between giving you space and reaching out in comfort. She waited with bated breath to see if you would respond before continuing. “It’s the head injury, he doesn’t remember.”

“He had no idea who I was.” The hand that hung in the stars moved to cradle your abdomen. “He would’ve…” You trailed off. The posturing, the aggression, there was no doubt at that moment Azriel viewed you only as a threat, a stranger, someone who had invaded his home. That was not the male who had doted on you only a week before, hands cradling you gently as his lips brushed your soft skin singing low lullabies to your unborn babe.

“Elain was at the River House earlier,” Rhys had dropped her there with a rushed explanation before disappearing again. “She feels awful, she wanted to come and apologise.” Feyre wasn’t sure why she brought up Elain, as soon as the words were out of her mouth she realised she’d made a grave miscalculation.

“I don’t care what Elain wants right now Feyre.” The temperature in the room plummeted as you finally turned to look at her. For a moment the air in the room thinned and Feyre struggled against the pressure of the vacuum that forced her to exhale. As quickly as it came the atmosphere in the room returned to normal and she sucked in a shaky breath through her teeth.

“I know, I know. I didn’t mean it like that.” Feyre tried to keep her voice low and soothing, pinned under your gaze as she edged closer, reaching out to place an open palm on your arm. “Madja’s with him now, she says that all this is to be expected. When Rhys spoke to her earlier she said these things usually resolve themselves with time.” Your thumb traced gentle circles on your swollen belly.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little short on that right now.” The anger in your tone was undermined by the tears threatening to spill. Realising there wasn’t anything she could say Feyre moved to pull your body against her own. Arms encircling you in a comforting embrace, she rubbed her fingers between your shoulder blades. You moved to hold her back, resting your face in the space where her neck met her shoulder as you let the tears fall. “What am I going to do?” Your voice was thin and watery, in the time Feyre had known you she’d never heard you speak with so little conviction.

“We’re going to figure this out.” She pulled away slightly and clasped your face between her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I promise. You have all of us, you’re not alone in this. We’ll do everything we can for you, both of you.” Nodding you sniffed, pulling away. Feyre let you go as you turned your attention back out to the window, eying the gilded disc of the sun as it rose across the Valaris skyline.

“I’m heading to the House of Wind,” Feyre continued to observe you as you tracked the ascent. “Would you like to come?” You moved closer to the window. On the opposite side of the city you could see the grand mountain range and it’s carved residence. Through the morning mist blanketing the base a large, winged figure rose, angling to land on one of the balconies.

“I don’t think I can look at him right now.” Feyre acquiesced her desire to push you to come with her.

Azriel

After Madja had left Rhys with strict instructions regarding Azriel’s rehabilitation over the next couple of days, he’d supported his brother’s weight while they made slow progress to the bathroom. Azriel’s limbs felt stiff, uncharacteristically uncoordinated and he concentrated on remaining upright and shuffling one foot in front of the other.

Steam rose from the bath the House had prepared, swirling to meet the shadows that seeped down his arm as Azriel braced one hand on the edge of the tub. Using the other he edged the loose cotton trousers down over his thighs until they pooled at his feet. Fingers tugged at the cotton on his abdomen to find purchase, loosening and unwinding until the bandaging fell away to reveal an angry pink scar, jagged and stark against tanned skin.

“Want me to wash your back?” Rhys shot him a cheeky grin, but the mirth in his voice didn’t reach his eyes. Azriel appreciated the effort, this small attempt at normalcy. He shot his brother an obscene gesture before raising one leg to step into the tub, thigh muscles twitching as he shifted into the hot water. Using his arms to brace his weight he started to lower himself in, descending too quickly they struggled to hold him up causing a wave of bathwater to soak the floor. Azriel sunk under the warmth of the water, allowing it to soothe him.

“We’ll be in the dining room, come down when you’re ready.” His shadows had already informed him of Cassian and Nesta’s arrival, he assumed the rest of his family wouldn’t be far behind. Azriel nodded, avoiding Rhys’ gaze, pretending to study the shadows roiling over the water. In the mirror on the opposite wall, Azriel watched Rhys’ reflection as he opened his mouth as if to speak, no sound coming out as he considered, before closing it again and disappearing through the doorway.

Dressing had been an arduous process, though no longer stiff and painful his muscles had a weakness that he wasn’t used to. After struggling into the tight second skin of his fighting leathers he felt more himself. Finding truth-teller laid out in its holster on the dresser he strapped it to his thigh. His shadows, now a fuller cohort with the effects of the bloodbane leaving his system, were a thick tangle of moving darkness, sour and agitated in solidarity with their master.

Despite his interrogation, they hadn’t offered him any useful information, it caused Azriel great frustration when they took the stance of purposeful vagueness or outright ignored him. He sent them ahead down the corridor to scout out the dining room only to be turned around by a shield of impenetrable night. Whatever conversations were going on in that room, Rhys did not want him privy to them. His own family, keeping secrets. It left a bad taste in Azriel’s mouth, a sense of betrayal in his chest that sat next to the empty feeling he was growing accustomed to, a limb he didn’t know he had until it was missing.

Azriel reached the closed door, the thick night dissipating as he progressed, the sound from beyond the door returned but he heard no voices. Just the sound of breathing and the clink of porcelain as someone set a cup on a saucer. Rhys must have informed them of his impending arrival. He pushed the door open and took in his family.

Cassian, Nesta, Rhys, Feyre and Amren all sat at the table which had been used for family dinners before the River House was built. Their faces were carefully blank as he assessed them all. Mor was notably absent, information Azriel tucked away, either her efforts across the continent were still ongoing or some other manner of business had her attention. He hadn’t expected to see Elain, not after her spectacular display of anger, but he couldn’t help the feeling of unease and disappointment it left in his gut.

“Finally, the invalid graces us with his presence. Took you long enough,” Cassian sent him an easy grin, arms folded across his stomach as he lounged in his chair. Azriel scowled in response which only made his brother’s smile wider. This had always been Cassian’s modus operadi, an invitation to be provoked into a physical outlet if that’s what was needed, thinly veiled under jibes he rarely meant at heart. For a moment, Azriel considered taking up the unspoken offer, if only to delay what was undoubtedly going to be an uncomfortable conversation.    

“Azriel,” it was Feyre who spoke, offering him a small smile, “Why don’t you join us?” Azriel understood that it wasn’t an invitation and slid into the seat next to Amren. His eyes met Nesta’s who sat across from him. They’d reached a tentative understanding, perhaps it could be considered a friendship, in the months he could recall. He remembered her joy at receiving the solstice gift he’d gotten for her, the resulting rare display of physical affection.

Looking at her now, face resolute and stony with blazing anger behind her eyes, barely contained, he had the sense that something had damaged the dynamic between them. He purposely looked away, instead fixing his eyes on Rhys; then Feyre. He waited for someone to speak, break the almost oppressive silence. He half-expected it to be Cassian again, with some throwaway comment or badly timed joke, but it was Rhys who cleared his throat.

“Azriel, thank you for joining us.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at the formality but stayed silent. “There are some matters we need to discuss.”

“Clearly.” He trailed his eyes over his family again, they all seemed uncomfortable to be here, to be around him. As if they knew he was going to react badly to whatever they were going to say. Rhys let his remark go, seeming resolute to power ahead with the conversation.

“What you showed me of your recent memories,” he continued, eyes drifting to Feyre who gave him an encouraging smile. “Lead us to believe that the memory loss is more extensive than we originally feared. Azriel, what you showed me – it was more than five years ago.” Azriel barely seemed to move under the scrutiny of their gazes. He’d lost years of his life. In the grand scheme of his immortality it felt like nothing, but looking at his family and realising that they lived in a future he didn’t remember left him feeling sick.

Azriel tried to find some rational thought to hold onto as he spiralled. He fell back onto the only thing he could rely on, his role as the Night Court’s spymaster. “Was it the work of the Queens? The attack?”

“The debacle on the continent has been resolved, for the most part. It was only supposed to be a routine investigation, nothing too strenuous or time-consuming given your current…” Rhys paused. “Situation. You were gathering information on some remaining rebellious factions, we didn’t anticipate that you would meet that kind of resistance, that they would have the resources. We’re sorry Az, we never meant for any of this to happen.”

“And what exactly is my current situation, Rhysand? What do you have to apologise for?” Azriel’s voice was low and dangerous. Amren snorted at the display, reaching for her wine glass. He expected a scathing remark, but it never came as Rhys shot her a look, and in a rare moment of deference she adhered as he implored her to remain silent.

“The female that was in the house earlier-“

“The thief.” Azriel interrupted.

“No,” Feyre cut in before Rhys could continue. “Her name is Y/N, and she’s your mate Az. The situation,” Feyre seemed to find describing it as such distasteful, but she continued. “Is that she is pregnant, with your child. That’s why we’re sorry, if we knew how dangerous it would be we never would have asked you to go alone.”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Three brothers for three sisters, that was what Azriel had always thought about, always dreamed. The cauldron blessing him with undeniable proof that, though not blood-related, he and his brothers were three equal parts in the eyes of fate. He’d wanted that, seeing how happy they were in their relationships filled him with bone-deep envy. Observing from the sidelines as Rhys and Feyre prepared for the new addition to their family with vigour, as Cassian and Nesta had danced around each other in slowly shrinking circles. The other halves of their souls. That should have been him and Elain, never mind the mockery of the bond Vanserra thought they had. Azriel knew it was a mistake, a sick joke that would all work out in the end because there was no other way it could be. Three brothers for three sisters.

He wanted it all. A house on the outskirts of the city, filled with the sweet scent of Elain’s baking and made beautiful by the flowers she cultivated in their gardens. Filled with sunlight and happiness, somewhere to retreat from the darkest corners of his life. He’d dreamed of that life in the secret hours of the dawn, of a future where the issues of Feyre’s pregnancy had been resolved and perhaps their home was filled with the noise of children.

Now he had awoken in a future where he had those things, a mate, an unborn babe on the way, only to find it wasn’t with whom he desired. Elain, whom he had woken in this world for, who had been so tender in his first moments of consciousness, who had kissed him back. Azriel couldn’t imagine choosing to build that life with anyone else.   

A/N - Phew! I know, the angst was real. I promise it will get better, but there's definitely a long way to go here! Part three is in the works, not sure when it will be finished but hopefully it won't be too long.

Tag list: @kalulakunundrum @impossibelle @we-were-beautiful @going-through-shit @mulansaucey @sv0430 @naturakaashi @amygdtjhddzvb @airstrip-0 @acourtofsmutandstarlight @myheartfollower @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @valencia-rou @amysangel @furiousbooklover @phoenixgurl030 @imnotsiriusyouare @i-am-infinite

[d4yl1ghts]

safe

anakin skywalker x jedi, wife, fem!reader

summary: anakin feels bad after accidentally harming you whilst training

warnings: injury

-

You were currently working on using the force with your secret husband, Anakin Skywalker, the ‘chosen one’. You had never been strong with the force but to be a powerful Jedi you must conquer the use of the force and so here you were. Your skills lie with your lightsaber as you are quite agile and impulsive in battle, leading you to make quick decisions. Anakin’s main priority was his lightsaber too but he was very good at using the force, leading him to train you.

Anakin was teaching you how to choke someone with the force and so to demonstrate he was doing it on you. Unfortunately he hadn’t realised you were at a loss of breath due to his focus on the force. He suddenly heard a thud and you had passed out due a lack of oxygen. “Shit.”, he muttered towards himself. He hastily yet carefully picked you up and took you to the medical bay to get your vitals checked and to see if there would be a lasting injury.

As you came to term with your surroundings, you felt a familiar cool hand against your warm one. Anakin.

You could barely remember what happened, only that you had been training your force skills. Turning your head towards Anakin, you questioned: “What happened, Ani?”

You took note of his guilty look and his avoidance of eye contact. “We were practicing the force.”, he paused. “I was teaching you how to choke people.”, he paused yet again, struggling to find the correct words. “I got distracted whilst I was using the force on you and you went for too long with out oxygen and fainted.”, he simply stated, making no eye contact. “Oh.”, you said in response, slightly shocked. You now knew why he looked so guilty.

“I’m fine, though, right?”, you asked as you looked around at the medical equipment. “Yes, my love, I requested that they keep you here for another night as I can’t take the risk of anything happening to you.”

Your cheeks heated up, he was so thoughtful towards you.

You had only now taken notice of the loss of contact from his metal hand. You reached out for his arm but he instinctively pulled away. You frowned in confusion. “What’s wrong, Ani?”

“I caused you harm.”, he replied. Anakin finally glanced up at you with tears in his stunning eyes. “How can I forgive myself when I hurt you?”

You shook your head slightly: “Baby, it was only an accident, you were distracted.” You brushed his hair away from his eyes as he leaned into your soft touch.

“I’m so sorry, my love, I promise I will never hurt you again.”, Anakin stated confidently. He stared at you with such devotion that you thought you would melt. He placed his robotic fingers under your chin and tilted your face up towards his and tenderly kissed you with so much passion that you could feel his apology through the kiss. “I love you.”, he said once he broke away for air.

[wheelie-sick]

What is immunocompromisation?

Being immunocompromised means you have a weaker immune system than most people. There are two main ways people become immunocompromised

1. Medical Conditions

Certain medical conditions cause your immune system to be weaker. Some examples include:

Immunodeficiencies- A category of conditions causing a lower number of or lower efficacy of immune cells. This category is divided into two subcategories: primary immunodeficiency and secondary immunodeficiency. Primary immunodeficiency is a subcategory consisting of hundreds of different conditions all causing a lower number of immune cells. Secondary immunodeficiency is a smaller category consisting of conditions where a person lacks immune cells due to other causes such as malnutrition.

HIV/AIDS

Some cancers

2. Medications

There are two main types of medications that result in being immunocompromised: Immunosuppressants and chemotherapy

Immunosuppressive medications- Immunosuppressive medications are medications designed to suppress your immune response. These can work in many different ways with some targeting a broad range of immune cells and others being highly specific. These medications are often used for organ transplant recipients and people with moderate-severe autoimmune diseases. Some medications in this category include: organ transplant medications, biologics, and high dose corticosteroids

Chemotherapy- Chemotherapy often comes with the effect of preventing new fast-dividing cells from being produced. This is why hair loss is such a common side effect of chemotherapy. Immune cells are fast dividing and therefore frequently are unable to be produced while on chemotherapy

The effects of immunocompromisation

Immunocompromisation has a large range of effects depending on the reason someone is immunocompromised. The most common effects are an increased susceptibility to illness and cancers. Increased susceptibility to illness can look like:

Frequent illnesses

Illnesses that are more severe than they would be for other people

Recurrent infections

Infections that don't respond to medication

Delayed response to infection

Infections that last longer than usual

Some people are more susceptible to certain types of infections. For example anifrolumab, a biologic used for lupus, makes people more susceptible to herpes zoster and respiratory tract infections while prednisone, a corticosteroid, increases risk of infection across the board. This occurs due to different causes of immunocompromisation affecting different immune cells with different roles in preventing and responding to infection.

Grades of severity

Recently the term "moderately and severely immunocompromised" has been used in covid-19 resources. Certain factors are considered to make someone moderately or severely immunocompromised, these include:

Advanced or untreated HIV infection

Moderate or severe primary immunodeficiencies

Hematologic malignancies

Active treatment for solid tumors or hematologic malignancies

Immunosuppressant medications used for solid organ or islet transplants

CAR-T cell therapy or hematopoietic stem cell transplantation

Treatment with alkylating agents, antimetabolites, high-dose corticosteroids, chemotherapeutic agents, TNF blockers, and other biologic agents that are immunosuppressive or immunomodulatory

What immunocompromisation is not

It's worth noting that getting sick frequently or getting seriously sick from illnesses that are usually mild is a warning sign for being immunocompromised but does not inherently make you immunocompromised. Some people are just more susceptible to illness without being immunocompromised.

Having minimal response to an infection that is usually more serious is a sign of a strong immune system, not a weak one.

Being immunocompromised is also not the same as being high risk for serious infection. All immunocompromised people are high risk but not all high risk people are immunocompromised. Immunocompromisation is specifically when someone is high risk because their immune system is weak. Particularly in regards to covid, there are many conditions that make you higher risk that do not involve a weak immune system.

Autoimmune diseases do not automatically make you immunocompromised. Something being a disorder of the immune system does not mean that you are immunocompromised because immunocompromised means a weaker immune system not a malfunctioning immune system.

[topgun-imagines]

Forget Me Not (iv)

Requested: no

Summary: With the simple stress-induced headache out of the way, you finally get the opportunity to reconnect with Bradley.

Word count: 2.0k

Warnings: hospitals, amnesia, mentions of death, headaches, memory loss, inaccurate medical terms, angst.

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x wife!reader

Previous part | Next part

“Jake,” No matter how many times Natasha called his name, the head-strong pilot refused to stop. Still, they followed him through the sterile-smelling halls of the hospital until he stopped abruptly. “Hangman,” She tried again, more firm this time. Wordlessly, he turned to her and snapped something along the lines of ‘What, Trace?’ “Look, you know that we’ll be behind you no matter what,” Jake stared at her blankly and willed her to just get to the point. Your doctor was on the other side of the door right in front of him. He could be talking to him right now if Phoenix would just hurry up. “But you have to tell us what’s going on.”

The pilot should feel elated. He should be excited at the fact that his wife is feeling better. However, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of dread that was growing stronger and stronger by the second. Jake may not have been a doctor, but he did know that a headache after brain trauma was not a good sign.

He tried to muster up a grateful smile, he really did, but all he could offer her was a barely-there tired grin. “I know, Nix,” Sucking in a sharp breath, he knew that he had to tell his friends why he was in such a rush. “We were just talking and then she suddenly seemed like she was in pain. She said she was going to sleep.” Instantly, Bradley and Natasha understood what the problem was.

They stood behind him as he knocked on the door and waited for your doctor to answer. When the door was pulled open, the man was just putting his stethoscope around his neck. He greeted Jake with a smile. “What can I help you with, Lieutenant?”

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” Jake started, attempting to remain professional even though he was worried sick. Once the older man assured him that it wasn’t a problem, he continued. “But I was hoping that you could come check on my wife. She appeared to have a headache earlier.” The man nodded and followed Jake back to your room. When he stepped inside quietly with Jake close on his heels, Bradley and Natasha took that as a sign to return to their seats.

Inside the room, you were peacefully sleeping on the scratchy hospital sheets, breathing softly and eyelids fluttering every few seconds. Jake watched you worriedly, working his lip between his teeth. The doctor was careful as he looked in your eyes, still trying not to wake you up. He checked a few more monitors before offering Jake a reassuring smile. “Everything seems fine. Given all the stress she has endured in the past couple days, a headache isn’t out of the norm.” With those words, Jake could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Jake thanked your doctor as he stepped out of the room. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. After everything that had happened over the past few days, all he wanted was for things to be okay. At least for a little while.

When Bradley saw your doctor step out of the room, he patted Phoenix’s hand gently before stepping inside. The first thing he noticed was Jake leaning against the wall, his head tipped back and eyes shut tightly. “You okay, man?” The usually put-together pilot startled at the sound of his friend's voice.

He cleared his throat and nodded, his eyes only meeting Bradley’s briefly before looking back to you. Bradshaw stepped forward to comfort his friend, but instantly noticed the dishevelled state of his clothes and hair. He had been wearing the same outfit for almost a week and Bradley was convinced that he hadn’t showered for at least two. “Jake,” Bradley started cautiously, not wanting to piss the man off. He only hummed, not taking his eyes off your peacefully sleeping form. “When was the last time you showered?” That caused his eyes to snap to Bradley.

“I’m not leaving her. Not again.” The words were out of his mouth in mere seconds. Jake squeezed your hand softly, completely disregarding Bradley’s statement as he looked at your sleeping face.

Bradley shook his head. “That’s not what I'm saying,” Trying again, Bradley chose his words even more carefully this time. “I’m just saying that she’s sleeping now. You have time to go and take a shower and take care of yourself,” He knew that there was one statement he could use that was a surefire way to get Jake to agree. “She wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Silently, Jake stood from that creaky, uncomfortable chair and turned to his wingman. Before he responded, he sucked in a long breath and released it. “You’re right,” He nodded, silently thanking Rooster for calling him out. Just as he was about to step out the door, he turned back. “Would you stay with her? I don’t want her waking up alone.” Bradley could hear the care laced with worry in his friend's voice.

He nodded reassuringly, taking a seat in the creaky plastic chair and pulling his phone out. As Jake closed the door softly, Bradley began swiping through another level of Candy Crush.

“Morning, Sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned as you blinked your eyes open. You smiled at the sound of his voice and twisted your head to face him. You noticed that you could no longer feel your heart beating in your temples. That sent a surge of relief through you. Before you could respond to the mustached man, he spoke again. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

You nodded with a soft smile, giving Bradley permission to ask whatever he wished. “I know that you probably don’t like people asking you this, but can you remember anything else?” His words were quiet as he tried not to scare you. While he was curious to know whether you could remember anything else, he didn’t want you to feel pressured.

You nodded before you began speaking. “It’s okay,” Pausing for a few seconds, you tried your hardest to remember anything that you could. “I remember.” Suddenly, memories of a breakfast spent in bed with someone flooded through your mind. You could see the colour of the sheets and feel the cool sea breeze from the open window. There was a man next to you, he had his arm wound around your waist, his thumb drawing delicate patterns into the bare skin of your waist. You were looking at him with pure love. The only problem was that you couldn’t see his face. You had no idea who he was.

You gasped, tears welling in your eyes at the knowledge that you had someone to come home to. Someone that you loved more than you could know. And you couldn’t even remember him. You sniffled quietly and Bradley watched you through concerned eyes. “I remember a breakfast in bed,” You started and the pilot immediately softened. “I can remember the colour of the sheets and the smell of the food. But there’s someone beside me that I can’t see,” Eyes slipped shut, fat, hot tears rolling down your flushed cheeks in waves. Desperately, your mind chased the man that you couldn’t remember, regardless of how hard you tried. “I can’t remember him.” It sounded almost like a whimper as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

Suddenly, you remembered the man sitting beside you. “I’m sorry.” You murmured, embarrassment serging through you. The lump in your throat was almost overwhelming as you cleared your throat.

Once you wiped your eyes once more, you turned to Bradley. You couldn’t pretend to miss the sympathetic look in his eyes. You hated seeing that look. It felt as if everyone around you had been looking at you like that ever since you woke up. For once, you wished that the people around you could just treat you like they did before the incident. Not that you could remember how that was. You knew that it was because they cared about you, and you really did appreciate it, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they were looking down on you in some way.

Bradley watched as you tried your hardest not to let any more tears fall. It reminded him of the scared girl that he had met all those years ago. When Bradley first met you, you had just joined the Navy. You were living in a small apartment on the south side of Baltimore, away from any of your family and friends. It had only been a few weeks since you moved into your tiny apartment when he met you.

The pilot had met you in a bar, spending the entire night trying to befriend you. It was obvious to most that you were the more reserved type, and even though you tried to ignore him, eventually, Bradley was able to crack through your tough exterior. Ever since that moment, he was your best friend. The two of you were inseparable. It almost made you wonder whether there was something else between the two of you that you couldn’t remember.

“Scoot over.” Bradley tilted his chin forward. You shuffled over slowly, tears still welling in your eyes as you thought back on your memory. Who was the man in the dream? Could it have been Bradley? One of his arms settled around your shoulder after you nodded in approval. Pulling you into his side, one of his thick thighs rested against yours and his foot nudged yours.

Your head dropped down to rest on his shoulder. Bradley’s thumb brushed slowly over the soft skin on your arm. “You don’t have to remember everything all right now,” He murmured, no louder than a whisper. “The most important thing is that you're okay,” You could feel his chest rumbling under your ear, his voice being even deeper than it normally was. “You gave us all a really good scare. All we want is for you to be okay. Okay?” He grinned when you giggled from the tickle of his mustache against your cheek.

All that could be heard in the small hospital rooms was the sound of your soft laughs as Bradley told you tales of the mischief that you and he got into over the past few years. While you enjoyed hearing Jake tell you stories about how the two of you met, there was just something about listening to Rooster talk than had you snuggling further into him.

“One of my favourite memories of us was in that bar one night in Tulsa. With the piano.” That was all you had to say and Bradley knew what you were talking about. One night, after the two of you had been reunited in Oklahoma, you headed out to the local bar. Bradley decided to teach you how to play Great Balls of Fire on the piano. That night had ended with you and Bradley stumbling drunkenly back to his housing, lying out on the back porch while you stared up at the stars. It was by far one of your favourite moments.

That had Bradley chuckling quietly as he reminisced on that wonderful night. As your head dropped further into his chest, you started to wonder whether or not it could have been Bradley in your memory. Your hand reached up and you fiddled with his dog tags, seeking comfort in the presence of the mustached aviator. After the hell that you had endured over the past few days, you were ecstatic that you could finally feel at peace.

Bradley continued whispering softly to you, not sparing any detail as he recounted moment after moment from your past. Your eyes fluttered shut, soothed by the low timbre of Bradley's voice. It was hard to remember a time when you had ever felt this relaxed. Holding you closely, Bradley was happy that he was able to draw your mind away from the overwhelming stress of the past few days. Little did you know that Jake was standing just outside the door, listening intently to every word whispered between you and his wingman.

a/n: thank you all so much for reading!! Stay tuned for future parts of this series and let me know if you would like to be tagged <3

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @supercatgirl006 @blueoorchid @dempy @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @randomfangirl97 @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @sunsetsimpsblog @lovelywiseprincess @fandom-life-12 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @djs8891 @blackwidownat2814 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @missathlete31 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @keileighr @rey26 @lt-spork

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[alexandraisyes]

This is a flag I found for ASPD. There's an entire archive of support flags for people with different kinds of Cluster B Disorders. I just really like this version.

Antisocial Personality Disorder can be disabling and is considered a social disability. Depending on the psychologist it’s also considered an emotional disability like ADHD or Bipolar.

This may not make sense at a glance, but there’s psychologically found logic behind this.

People with ASPD have severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Chronic Depressive Disorder, and General Anxiety Disorder GAD).

The disorder also tends to be comorbid with Bipolar Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and Depersonalization-Derealization Disorder (DDD), as well as some psychotic disorders like Brief Psychosis Disorder and Schizophrenia. although these last two aren't as common.

There's also a chance for people with ASPD to have overlapping traits from other Cluster-B Disorders (NPD, BPD, HPD). And many people with ASPD struggle with impulse disorders. Common impulse disorders related to ASPD are as follows:

Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED): Characterized by recurrent outbursts of verbal or physical aggression that are disproportionate to the provocation.

Kleptomania: A recurrent urge to steal items that are not needed for personal use or for their monetary value.

Pyromania: An impulse control disorder characterized by recurrent and deliberate fire-setting behavior.

Pathological Gambling: Persistent and recurrent problematic gambling behavior that leads to significant distress or impairment.

Trichotillomania (Hair-Pulling Disorder): An irresistible urge to pull out one's own hair, resulting in noticeable hair loss.

Many people with ASPD also struggle with addiction and may be fighting addictions to drugs, alcohol, sex, shopping, binge eating, and social media because these are quick endorphin fixes that help us feel something due to the inherent nature of ASPD to be numb almost 24/7.

It's extremely rare for someone with ASPD to get disability aid. Which probably sounds ridiculous, when you look at this massive list of issues. A large part of it is our society. People tend to see someone who has a label that is synonymous with Sociopath and Psychopath (there's a difference between the two) and immediately want them in jail. And it doesn't matter how long they've known that person, or what their relationship is. (I got dumped last year when my ex found out I have ASPD and almost disowned during Christmas when I told my dad. The only reason I haven't been being that he thinks it's a demonic issue that can be "cured with prayer".)

On top of that, our psychology system isn't built to handle someone with a personality disorder like ASPD (or even NPD). I get told a lot "You're really self-aware." Which is basically them saying they aren't going to help you. Of course I'm self-aware if I'm going into the therapist's office for advice (at the least) and actual help (would be great), but I get turned away because if I'm "self-aware", so I should be able to figure it out. This isn't an issue that pertains directly to ASPD, it's also one that affects every disorder that's hard for a neurotypical to understand.

This is more personal. Feel free to read this in a mildly irritated, but not very much, tone of voice. Preferably a tired scholar from Skyrim, that'll make my day.

I cannot function in today's society. I can't hold down a job, and I've tried time and time again. I get a few months in and I hit a wall and my mental health goes to shit. I had to quit my last job for my physical safety because I got bored with just life in general, to the point I was seriously considering sticking my arm in a fry vat.

I haven't even managed to get a proper diagnosis because I don't have health insurance, and I have so many false disorders on my medical diagnosis sheet from my narcissistic father bullying my long-term therapist into giving me damn near every disorder except for ADHD and Conduct Disorder (I was below the age of 18, but it would have helped me in the here and now with securing the diagnosis I need for medical reasons.) Growing up several doctors I worked with wanted to get me set up for an ASPD diagnosis and my father told them no. And because of where I lived I had no say in it, and even if I did my father was abusive, so goodbye to ever speaking up for myself.

On top of that, I'm a woman. There's a severe gender bias in ASPD, as well as the fact that women with ASPD are reportedly less likely to be physically aggressive and more likely to be mentally aggressive, so our symptoms show up slightly differently than the stereotype. And don't even get me started on the stereotypes. Plus women are more likely to be studied for comorbid disorders than psychologists even considering ASPD. This is the same shit autistic women struggled with.

There's a massive underreporting in the female ASPD populace because of this, and a lot more masking going on because everything gets chalked up to "she's just a bitch" or "hormones". There's also just not enough research done on females with ASPD to understand how it may be different from a male with ASPD.

I'm tired. I've been fighting for a year to get people to recognize me as an individual who deals with ASPD. Every time I run into threats of being abandoned (which is horrible, considering I was abused and then abandoned by my biological mom, then put in foster care for the next 4 years), or the road block of "You're a woman. Are you sure you don't have BPD? That's the female disorder." Or just getting tired of the uphill slope. I only have so much stamina, and sure I have a lot of spite for the world, but eventually that's going to run out too. And then I'll probably kill myself.

The suicide rate in general is less than 2%.

The suicide rate for people with ASPD is 23%.

[soraca-med]

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[velvetvexations]

Hi there! I'm a trans man who's been taking T for about 3 years now, and I wanted to share some insights for your friend.

1: About the risks of heart issues and other health concerns. Is there a risk? Yes. But it's the exact same amount of risk that AMABs are born with. I've noticed an elevated red blood cell count for me personally, but it's never been a dangerous amount and really just means it's a good idea for me to donate blood and share that extra!

2: In terms of the mental or emotional changes, it won't make you any more aggressive or emotional on its own. However, I notice when I don't take my T consistently that it does worsen my depression, so if you do start taking T make sure you take it when you're supposed to, and be aware if you decide to stop taking for a while that might affect your moods. Other than that, the biggest change to my mood was confidence. I wasn't as "quiet/shy" because I liked how I sounded when I spoke. I was more willing to go out and leave the house because I liked how I looked <3

3: The changes that come and how quickly they come are going to be different for everyone, but a good way to figure out how it will affect you is to consider your genetics and family medical history. For example, I was concerned about hair loss or a receded hairline, and was advised to look at the hair patterns of men on my mother's side of the family to get an idea of what that would look like.

4: Know that you have options, and never be afraid to advocate for yourself. Injections don't have to be your only option. I tried them for a year before deciding it wasn't right for me, that using the needles for myself was too anxiety inducing. So I switched to a daily gel I rub on my arms in the morning. There will be a plan that's right for your needs, your comfort, and your budget. I know it's scary asking these questions, but asking questions is the best way to find what's going to work for you!

Thank you! Here are some other anons who sent in about this:

Trans guy on T here, i get 1000mg of it injected intramuscularly by a nurse every 3 months, with regular blood tests to monitor it, as directed by both my regular GP and endocrinologist who authorised my prescription, iv been on HRT for over 4 years now. some info: - in my experience, my periods ceased entirely within a few months, i grew facial hair and more body hair, my voice dropped and experienced clitoral growth. some of these things are permenant and some would revert if i were to stop taking hormones. i have had no major (or even minor) health changes in this time but obviously if it happens it happens. - also about libido, iv always been asexual even before i started T so, nothing changed for me there. Again, im not some kind of difinitive trans guy, everyone will havw different results. Just keep in mind that sexuality is a spectrum and is fluid, as long as you remain respectful of your sexual and romantic partners and be mature, youre not going to become some kind of hypersexual monster. - taking masculanising hormones IS NOT effective birth control, if you have a functuoning uterus then you need to still practice safe sex. If you intend on having children, then you need to consider that if/when you begin treatment because it would be a notable factor in your success rate there. obviously by doing anything to effect your homones has its risks, you need to be careful about it, have regular checkups if you can. honestly i have no experience in self administering testosterone so i cant advise you do that, but if thats your only option then please make sure you do your own thorough research to ensure your safety. if youre taking masculanising hormones, everyones experience will differ as with any medication, but this has been proven for decades now to be an effective and safe treatment for gender dysphoria (honestly tho imo wanting to transition shouldn't nessesarily be pathologised like that). any risks may be present, but not more so than cis men. As long as youre taking care of your general health it shouldnt be a concern. this kind of shit gave me a bit of concern before i started hormones, so i get it, but doing a bit of research will quickly reveal that a lot of it is overblown and exaggerated by TERFs and other stupid pundits. If you're considering taking hormones of any kind, id reccomend seeking a general practitioner who is specifically knowledgeable about HRT, they will walk you through any associated risks and answer any questions you have before deciding if its the right option for you. good luck and be safe out there!

yooo velvet, 1000mg T guy again just adding some extra info i thought of - if you care about ur boobs then they might lose a little bit of "volume" i guess if you go on T, this is just part of fat redistribution, which can happen to some folk. medically this isnt a concern but for aesthetic reasons its relevant. - if ur into working out, you might find that you build muscle a lot easier, on the flipside you may find yourself with more of an appetite to control. so if you have issues or concerns in either of those departments then make sure you consider that too and figure out a plan. - honestly the worst risk for me personally is that i am now at risk of male pattern baldness i suppose. this doesn't happen to everyone and ur genetics will determine if it happens to you. theres lots of modern ways to retain your hair or prevent it from falling out too, and of course there are hairpieces or you could just own the cueball look too haha. (quick tip, if possible, check CIS MALE members of your family belonging to the MATERNAL half of your family tree, the gene for MPB is passed down your biological mother's side) - T can come in lots of forms if you dont like needles. you can get it in patches or pills too. Personally, i have no experience with these methods so youll need to look into it urself or ask ur doctor for help. you can also vary the dose of it too, you cant really pick and choose what effects you get by taking T but you can control their development to some extent. also of course if you decide after the fact that it isnt right for you, you can choose not to continue (bear in mind that some changes from T are "permenant", maybe ask some of your transfem friends for tips to overcome them, voice training, makeup tips, etc) basically though, dont take advice from people who have a political interest in silencing you. also im an anonymous voice on tumblr, dont take my word for this shit at face value. by all means use it as a jumping off point but make sure you look into it urself with research from credible sources and actual doctors who can attend to your needs personally. anecdotal from T users like myself are good but they shouldn't be your only source of info.

TMI but the only bad thing that happened to me cuz of T is my dick being unbearably itchy for a few days every so often

for that anon asking about T: i'm a trans guy whos been on T since 2019 and it did not cause unstable emotions in me at all. if anything, it made my emotions MORE stable because a lack of hormonal dysphoria meant that suddenly i was able to cope with the more unpleasant shit in life because i didnt have that background noise of hormonal dysphoria constantly making me a little bit miserable at all goddamn times. the idea that testosterone makes you unstable is just gender essentialist terf nonsense.

[happytroopers]

Literally anything about Echo, please. Could be before or during bad batch, I’m just completely head over heels for the man

PAST LIVES // Echo x Reader

Summary: Echo's been rescued from Skako Minor, settling into Clone Force 99 slowly but surely. His past catches up with him during a routine diagnostic run, and you... well, you're unknowingly somewhere between a memory and a reunion. Echo is convinced he knows best.

Something wasn't right, things were too soft and hazy, too golden, too warm, dreamy… But the way you were smiling at him, the way your warm fingers were tracing patterns through his hair, Echo couldn’t bring himself to think too hard about it. It had been far too long since he’d had time with you like this, legs tangled together, his hands were settled on you waist, and you were smiling lazily. Maybe something was right for the first time in a while. 

Where was he again? Your apartment on Coruscant? The Barracks? Why couldn’t he tell? Then you shifted, rolling so you were on top of his chest. The hand not on his bicep crept up his torso, nails scratching just right to make his back arch. Maybe it didn’t matter where you were...

"We gotta get up." Your voice was sleepy but happy, muffled as you dropped your face into the crook of his neck. Echo wanted to focus on your voice, on the feel of your lashes against his jaw, but under your voice was the hint of something else. Something that injected a bit of urgency into his system, but nothing here was that urgent right? Echo wrapped his arms a bit tighter around your waist, but nothing felt different, like you slipping through his fingers. 

"Echo, you need to wake up now." You said again, suddenly not buried in his neck but staring down at him expectantly. The warmth was sapping away, despite your touch his legs were feeling colder and stiffer. Your voice wasn’t soft, but an order, behind it was the reverberation of someone else’s. Rex? Fives? No, that wasn’t right either. Echo started to try to sit up, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, locks slipped over his quickly cooling fingers like an water washing away an illusion, revealing a durasteel scomp link in it’s place.

The urgency was rising, his other hand running over his head to find his cropped cut gone. Barely any stubble had started to regrow, his face had gone gaunt. Furrowed brows lifted his eyes to you, the golden version of you smiling and the cold urgent version of yourself flickering like a faulty holo-com. He tried calling your name, but a static shock at the base of his neck catapulted him first into darkness though he was becoming rapidly more aware of his reality. 

Half a moment later, a hand shook his shoulder and he startled awake again. The harsh white light of the Kaminoan medical bay was a stark difference to the hazy golden light in his dream.

It had been a dream, of course it had, Echo hadn’t spoken to you since…well, since he’d been a different man. 

"Diagnostic scans are looking good. New implants are operating satisfactory. " Tech announced, tapping away at a data pad that was connected by a couple wires to the base of Echo’s skull. The former ARC trooper sighed, craning his neck this way and that though the cybernetics along his spine wouldn’t let the joints pop. 

"Great, can we find a way to test these things without knocking me out?" He groaned, watching Tech tap at a few more things. The genius rose his eyebrows. 

"We could but we risk neural overload, neural underload, brain fry, memory lapse, short term memory loss, long term memory loss, hallucinations,…" Tech’s list was on going, bordering on droning but Echo’s focus was lost when motion at the door way caught his eye. The medbay doors swished apart, making room for two clones. Two older cadets in training armor, one half supporting his brother who was sans helmet. The injured one had blood dribbling down his forehead and looked more than a little dazed. Training incidents, those happened all the time. It was the pretty civilian nurse who flanked the pair that held Echo's attention, taking the injured cadet under his other arm to help him walk straight. 

You.  

It was like being shocked all over again.

Echo was an entirely different man now, but you… You’d barely changed. Sure, your hair was a little longer now, a couple more shadows under your eyes. But, you were still you. The woman that Echo had loved, still loved. He couldn't help but watch you sit the injured trooper down, asking both cadets diagnostic questions. They seemed flustered under your keen eyes, casting each other wide eyed looks when you’d offer them that soft, reassuring smile you gave all your patients.

You’d given Echo that smile, it seemed like decades ago now when you’d met, and, kriff, it’d stunned him to silence, too. Still did. Echo watched you put gloves on, sliding them over a ring he’d given you shortly before he left for the Citadel. And he watched those gloved hands gently feel over the Cadet’s head, not quite like you used to play with his hair, but just as gentle. He couldn’t quite hear your voice, but he could see your lips moving, your face was still gentle, probably explaining what you were doing or cracking a joke as opposed to the scolding you used to serve the 501st when they’d get hurt doing something dumb. 

The cadet flinched as you started to clean the shallow wound on his forehead, and Echo almost laughed at the face you made at him. There was the scolding, judging by how the cadet sat up a little straighter. It didn’t take you long, cleaning, bandaging, shining a light in the clone’s eyes. 

"Alright, I think you’ll survive, just barely." 

Echo couldn’t hear you, but he knew that glint in your eyes. You always said that when treating minor wounds; you thought it was funny. He knew exactly the lilt of your voice, which words you put emphasis on, the quirk of your brow, the breath of a laugh you’d tag on the end as you patted the Cadet’s knee. He’d heard you say it a hundred times, been the patient on the receiving end when he’d make excuses to come see you in the medbay before he asked you out. 

Tech was prodding his shoulder again, trying to get his attention. Echo could just barely hear him over the rash of memories going through his mind. 

"Are you even listening to me? Something made your brainwaves spike." Tech questioned finally looking up from his datapads to follow Echo’s line of sight to you, "Oh." 

The cadets were leaving now, you were cleaning up the bit of mess you made before taking a sweep of the infirmary. Your eyes landed on the two different clones, your brow twitched for a moment as you looked at him. A spark of recognition dimmed by a crash of sadness before you shook your head, offering the two of them a smile and wave. 

"Can I help with anything?" You called after setting a cleaning droid on your station. You were walking over, curiosity in your pretty eyes. 

"No, just routine diagnostics." Tech answered when Echo just stared at you like a ghost. Ironic considering he was the more ghost like of the two of you. You slipped more into work mode,  eyes scanning over the cybernetics on his head and dumbstruck look. 

"And they’re coming back green?" You asked, sincerely, reaching out to gently take hold of Echo’s chin. Kriff, if you touched him he didn’t know what he’d do. He’d been so carefully avoiding you since his rescue. Stars, the truth was clawing up his throat to tangle with the wisps of your perfume that he’d breathed in, like sparks and gas. It burned your presence into him, but, dank farrik, it was nice to be warm again.

But could he do this to you? You deserved more than what he’d become, he couldn’t give you what he once could. Could he put you through that after everything? 

Rex had told him. How hard you took it when the news of Echo’s apparent death was broken to you. Everything you’d been through afterwards. Rex told him that you weren’t coping well, you were becoming reckless, distant. Barely eating, barely sleeping, less patient, quiet. The only reason you were still working in the GAR at all was because some of the boys were worried what might happen to you if you were formally discharged. So, Rex pulled some strings, had you transferred back to Kamino where you’d been primarily an instructor, teaching cadets medical skills, running drills with them to show them how to work with civilians in the field, and taking shifts in the infirmary just to keep busy. Compared to what Kix had described, you seemed to finally be doing better. You seemed like you. 

Echo could feel the warmth emanating off your fingertips as they got closer, reminding him exactly why he needed to not be this close. That spark of recognition was back in your stare, your brow twitching. At the last second, Echo flinched backwards away from your fingers, leaning away to try not to choke on your scent as he cleared his throat.

"Just a little out of sync when things come back online, ma’am, nothing to worry about. ‘M fine." Echo forced his voice to be rigid, cut and dry, the way soldiers were supposed to talk to civilians like you. Anything else, he’d be afraid you’d clock him based just off his tone. You always could do that, pick him out of a crowd with your eyes closed. Sometimes, Fives and Jesse would convince Echo to play ‘musical armor’ to try to trick you, you wouldn’t even have to turn around. The moment Echo opened his mouth, you’d hit him with a sweet greeting. It always made the guys laugh, but it made Echo feel… right, warm all the way through. So, he couldn’t risk it and kept his voice firm. 

Echo expected you to look at him weird, maybe even be irritated at his cold tone, but instead, you just smiled, shaking your head with the slightest laugh as you dropped your hand back to your side. 

"What?" Echo pressed, fighting the urge to smile back. He shouldn’t have, he needed to leave. It was nice to have you this close again, but it’d just hurt more in the long run. You straightened up, taking a half step back. 

"Sorry, you just… remind me of someone I used to know." 

Echo tried not to flinch at that.

"We’re needed in the docking bay." 

Both of you had completely forgotten Tech was there. The batch’s genius was watching Echo carefully and you curiously, and for all the crap they gave him, Tech had obviously picked up on Echo’s inner struggle. Tech stood slowly, slipping his helmet on and handed Echo’s to him, "We’ll see ourselves out." 

Echo nodded to Tech, and also to himself, before offering you a curt nod as well, just for the excuse to give you another short look. Your brows crinkled again, but Echo turned on his heel to follow Tech out before he could give you anymore reason to question him. 

"Oh, alright. Bye then." Your voice was soft, confused as you stared at the two men leaving the infirmary. 

—

"You knew her." 

Tech’s phrase wasn’t a question, but a fact. Stated as such as they walked back to the docking bay. Echo answered it like one anyone, after he slipped his helmet on, hoping it’d make him harder to read. 

"Uh, yeah. She used to work in the 501st." Not a lie, you had worked in the 501st, after the incident on the Rishi moon. 

"Your body language suggests some sort of deeper relation than simple coworkers. Your pupils dilated, brainwaves spiked, vocal change, hyper fixated focus, fidgety muscle reactions-"

"Don’t need a biology lesson, Tech." Echo groaned, "And I’m suggesting that it doesn’t matter anymore." 

"It just insinuates that-" 

"Un-insinuate it then." 

"Hmm." Tech hummed, casting an odd look to the newest member of the Batch. 

"I..." Echo thought for a moment, trying to come up with some sort of dismissal, but that truth was still crawling up his throat. His shoulders slumped a bit as he fixed his helmeted gaze on the pristine white floors, "I'm not the man she knew."

--

wow this is so dramatic and unedited lol

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 25]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 25 - Scar and Pops begin their road trip, finding their way to a place called Paradise. Gradually Pops starts to open up, and Scar notices an amusing relationship trend in the apocalypse.

Now if only he could shake the feeling that there's more outside than snow and trees.

📝 Words: 6,561

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 25 on AO3

—

“You’ve got a real knack for this,” Scar compliments, rocking his chair back and forth as he tests its new suspension.

Slowly pulling himself to his feet, Pops offers him a shrug, pushing his hair back out of his eyes before he moves over to the lobby’s large stone fireplace.

“It’ll do me good in the long run,” he admits at last, dragging spare pieces of kindling out of the enormous woodpile stacked next to the hearth and beginning to assemble them to start a fire. “My old man’ll need one of those sooner or later. It’s worth it for me to figure the logistics out now, when I’ve got an experienced teacher to tell me when I’m fucking up. Or—” he pauses, casting a grin in Scar’s direction. “When I’m doing it right, he thinks, he wasn’t really paying attention to the video he watched about this at the time.”

He offers the joke as a distraction, but Scar only hears the confession, spinning around quick on his new tires as he faces Pops.

“Your old man?”

It’s a surprise admission, something he wasn’t expecting at all. The realisation that this entire time Pops has been the son, waiting out the apocalypse with his father. Suddenly the obvious skirting of his intentions and the out-of-the-way trips to restock on medical supplies make much more sense.

All this time he’s had his dad to worry about.

“I didn’t realise…” Scar starts, completely at a loss for words. “You’ve been out here with your father?”

The look on Pops’ face is comedic, horrified in a way Scar doesn’t immediately understand.

“No!” Pops insists, with a vehemence that takes Scar by surprise. “I haven’t been out here with my father. Jesus Christ, Wheels. I said my old man, okay?”

He’s striking a match as he says it, setting kindling alight and looking at him expectantly as the beginning of the fire catches quickly between his weathered hands.

Befuddled, Scar doesn’t get it.

With a heavy sigh—the kind born from an excruciatingly specific kind of long-suffering—Pops raises his hands, crudely miming out jamming his middle finger through a circle made by his thumb and pointer finger.

That catches, at least. The heat of embarrassment flushing into Scar’s cheeks.

“Oh,” he says, letting the revelation sit for a second before following it up with a far longer, “Ohhhhhhh.”

—

We continue with the adventure of Pops and Scar! Now with Masculine Vulnerability and Feelings™.

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below!

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[cripplecharacters]

The burn-scars post has been extremely helpful, though I've been wondering if it also applies to acid burn scars as well? My own searching has just lead to sites that say "burns" unspecified if acid or not, so I wonder if I've been looking up the wrong terms, or if the care is that similar.

Thank you for all your work by the way!

Hi! I'm glad you found it helpful :-)

Same disclosure as always: we don't currently have burn survivors as mods, I'm speaking from second hand experience.

Majority of the advice should hold up, more or less. One thing that acid burns could affect more are the eyes; most people whose eyes are severely impacted by the burn will have some degree of vision loss (including potential total blindness). So the daily care could include eye drops or any other necessary medications, especially if their eyes dry out due to e.g. lack of eyelids or the inability to move them. If this is the case, I recommend you check out our #blindness tag to read about white canes, orientation & mobility in general, and everything else! Acid burns can also result in d/Deafness, but that's less common (they could also cause both, of course, which would be DeafBlindness).

For research terms, you should try with "chemical burns"! It's one of the main burn categories (thermal, electric, radiation, etc.) and will probably have more results. They're also sometimes called "caustic burns".

Lastly, make sure to look at how acid burns specifically look like - chemical burns are more likely to affect the person's facial structure as acid is corrosive. I have written about it in this post, but TLDR: try to think of their various features - do they have a nose, fingers, outer ears, hair? What is the texture of their skin like? What does their neck look like, what's their mobility? Burns don't necessarily look like Zuko's - it shouldn't just be a different color with zero other differences. This page describes the visible effects of an acid burn (see the "impact" section).

Some links that you can use for further research; Acid Survivors Foundation Phoenix Society

I hope this helps! :-)

mod Sasza

[federaliszt]

isolation

thank god the team had made it in time, team leader thought breathlessly.

whumpee was pulled from their cell with wide eyes and matted hair and a thin, emaciated frame, and blood and bruises covering pretty much every inch of their skin. their first instinct was to recoil from their rescuers, citing how dirty and bloodstained they were. that didn't matter to leader, though. when team leader finally found them, they gave a huge sigh of relief and pulled whumpee into their arms mumbling their name and hugging them tight.

whumpee's eyes just went even wider as their arms hung limply at their sides.

when they got back home to base, while whumpee was receiving medical treatment, team leader took the team aside and reminded everyone of just how much personal space whumpee had always demanded, how annoyed whumpee had always been by public displays of affection and unsolicited hugs and by people who were "clingy" and hung around nonstop when whumpee just wanted to be alone. so although they all wanted to crowd in and celebrate whumpee's safe return, everyone agreed that it would be best to give whumpee plenty of space and time to recover and to be able to dictate the terms of who got to see them and when, especially after all that loss of control they experienced while in brutal captivity.

whumpee, meanwhile, spent most of their time curled up in the far corner of their room, arms around their knees, a haunted look on their face, but not saying much, even to team leader and their former best friends, who did their best to keep quiet and try to just wait until the day when whumpee would hopefully meet their eyes at last and finally invite them to stay.

days passed this way, and then weeks, where whumpee saw no one except at meal times, when team leader would bring them food on a tray, silently passing them their utensils and something to drink before retreating without a word.

until one day, as team leader brought them dinner, whumpee's expressionless facade finally cracked.

"why won't the rest of the team talk to me anymore?" whumpee asked in a tiny voice. "I get that I let you all down when I let myself get captured, but I just thought... I hoped that they would still..."

as whumpee trailed off, fat tears sliding down their cheeks, team leader's heart shattered into a thousand little tiny pieces. for a moment, they struggled to figure out what to say before frantically blurting out, "Oh, no, whumpee, we just thought-"

"Even you, Leader. I thought if anyone would be able to forgive me for messing up, it would be you, but you barely even look at me, or talk to me, it's like you can't stand to be in the same room as me-"

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮 : [How To Trust]

Everyday brings new challenges, new miracles, and new faces into his life. And yours, he decides, shouldn't look so scared all the time.

Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, Doctor!Yoongi, Nurse!Jimin, Doctor!Namjoon, Surgeon!Hoseok, mentions of Anaesthetist!Taehyung, blood, medical terms, hospital stuff come on this is a medical au, mentions of panic, mentions of vomiting but not descriptive, mentions of suspected abuse, mentions of actual abuse (mental/physical)

Length: 4.4k words

THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC!

A/N: Please do not come for my throat if some stuff doesn't make sense. I've tried hard, but I'm not a doctor, and so none of this should be taken too seriously. Treat it like a medical drama. Those ain't real either haha also how big do I have to make the warning that there's no taglist for people to realize there is no taglist

-> Masterlist

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"Do you have a girlfriend, young man?" The elderly hybrid giggles, her owner and husband on a chair sitting close to her bed shaking his head as Jungkook chuckles himself, adjusting the drip for her medication.

"I do not, Miss Yong." He informs her. "With a job like mine, it's a bit difficult." He explains, shrugging. He's got to talk a bit louder so she can hear him properly, but he's positively surprised by her otherwise overall good health. She's way past the typical age where Hybrids are known to decline, after all. A little bit of hearing loss is nothing compared to what he usually sees in hybrids her age.

"Oh that's such a shame." She whines to her husband at her side. "He's such a handsome friend, isn't he? You must go on dates, at least!" She whispers at him, but he just laughs.

"I'm sorry, she can be nosy." Her husband apologizes for her, though Jungkook simply shakes his head.

"No worries. She's completely allowed to be nosy." He charmingly says, making the older woman laugh to herself, her floppy ears just as grey as her hair. "Are you in any pain right now?" He asks her, but she shakes her head, visibly drowsy from the pain medication she's already been given for her fractured ankle. "That's good. I'll go check up with my coworkers on the scans, and then I'll be right back to discuss how we'll proceed from here, is that alright?" He asks, and she nods.

"I've got my company right here." She smiles at her husband who holds her had with an equally warm expression.

When Jungkook walks to the small area for staff to discuss the scans, he can't help but shake his head amazed, Jimin laughing as well. "She's awfully energetic for her age." Jimin grins brightly, clicking away on the computer to find the scans from earlier, Hoseok close by nodding to himself. "To imagine her being almost sixty. Amazing." Jimin smiles to himself.

"The fracture is a bit complicated, and I doubt she'll walk perfectly fine in the future even after surgery-" Hoseok informs, showing Jungkook the scans. "But she'll be fine. I doubt she's going into any sort of competitive sports at her age anyways." He chuckles.

"I've already printed all the forms out for her admission, filled out what I can. I'll just need your signatures and other info I didn't bother to do." Jimin jokes.

"You think she's still high risk surgery?" Hoseok asks, referring to the patient. "Considering her age. I'm a little worried about anesthetics."

"She's got no blood pressure issues or any other health problems we'd usually see in hybrids her age. So no- while I'd love you to stay a bit careful, I don't think she's high risk." He nods. "Taehyung should stand by during the surgery to watch over everything if that makes you more comfortable." He says, and Hoseok nods.

"Right, he's back from break, isn't he?" He chimes up, nodding. "I'll go fetch him then." The surgeon agrees, walking off as Jungkook goes back to the patient as well.

Things like these make him feel proud.

It's not arrogant to assume that he's playing a big part in cases like hers- a 58 year old hybrid in very good shape- things that are becoming more and more common these days. Every new discovery, every new person deciding to study this field, every new medical issue solved, adds to the life expectancy of hybrids. And it's not just them- Jungkook knows that sometimes, discoveries about hybrids' bodies can help humans too.

"Alright Miss Yong, you have indeed fractured your ankle pretty badly." Jungkook nods as he walks into her section in the emergency hall. "We'll schedule you for surgery, but considering your overall wonderful health, I'm not worried." He informs her. "Although I do have to inform you that considering your age there is a basic risk to any surgery present." He says, especially towards the owner and husband, who nods.

"That's only logical." He nods, since his wife seems a bit sleepy. "So how long will she stay here?" He asks, and Jimin sneaks into the room, preparing everything to have her transported to her room.

"It's not clear yet, but it'll definitely be until the end of the week at least." Jungkook informs him. "But Doctor Jung will give you a more detailed insight on what's to come from here on." He tells them both.

"Is he as handsome as you?" The lady asks, and Jimin can't help but snort a laugh.

"Oh, even more so, I'd say." Jungkook jokes, and everyone laughs.

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Jungkook has given an oath to protect life, and he's aware of that- but he hopes whoever's up there above makes an exception for him when he has to commit a murder in the next few minutes.

"You better have a real good reason to ping me out of my bed at 3 in the fucking morning.!" Jungkook growls under his breath, walking into the staff room where Namjoon seems to have already been waiting. "The ER is empty- so is my bed, when I should be in it! Why am I here?" He whines, changing out of his clothes and into his scrubs- his shift is gonna start at 5 anyways, so it won't really be smart to go back home after whatever is going on that needs his attention so badly is done.

"Trust me, I hate ringing you out of your sleep." Namjoon sighs, as he slides a clipboard towards the young doctor, who slips on his shoes before he takes it to read over it. "Take a good look at it, and tell me what's fishy about it." He asks, and Jungkook adjusts his glasses, reading through all the medical jargon written down in handwriting he used to be unable to read.

"Are you trying to test me here?" Jungkook asks annoyed, though he keeps his attention mostly on the clipboard, moving page after page to find what his friend and coworker seems to be hinting at.

"No, I'm serious." Namjoon questions, crossing his arms.

The seriousness in his voice makes Jungkook focus a bit more, looking through everything when he flips a page back and forth. "Wait, that doesn't make sense.." He mumbles to himself, and Namjoon seems relieved that his best friend has seemingly found the issue as well. "How the hell does one get stabbed three times 'on accident'?" Jungkook questions, shaking his head. "On the thigh, too?" He wonders, looking at Namjoon in front of him.

"Owner said the patient had 'moved around' while he tried to remove the butter knife, forcing it back in twice." Namjoon offers, and Jungkook scoffs.

"Come on, stabbing someone with something as dull as a butter knife is already pretty impossible to achieve." The young doctor questions. "But really? And anyone believed him?" He wonders, looking through the vitals once more.

"Read the name again. The owner's, not the patient's." He asks, and Jungkook's eyes widen.

"Jo Dongsun? So that's why they're just gonna shrug it off?" He asks. "Cause he's an actor?"

"Probably." Namjoon sighs, walking back to take a sip from his cold coffee on the table. "But that's not.. entirely why I pinged you." He says, peaking Jungkook's interest as he's finally awake and alert enough, fully back in work-mode. "The patient- poor thing is refusing any up-close treatment, has to be put on local anesthetics, and you know that's not ideal." The young doctor says, walking out the door with his friend at his side, walking back into the ER. "And you've got a hand for things like that. Maybe you can try and make her feel more comfortable so we won't have to medicate her this much?" He asks, and Jungkook nods.

Hybrids are pretty sensitive to most human medications- their bodies still being studied, many side effects still being explored and explained. But until they're understood to the degree that the world understands the human body, they have to work with that they have- and adjust everything else. It's why people like Jungkook are so vital to today's medical system- he's talented in creating solutions for problems no one else would think of, keeps his studies up to date, and is most of all compassionate and kind even to the wildest of patients.

He's also got a certified degree proving his top knowledge when it comes to hybrid care specifically. It's why Namjoon had even proposed the idea to everyone to move you into Jungkook's care instead, though some aren't really on board with it, considering his rather.. wild attitude so to speak. He won't back into whatever the man will try and tell him happened- he will try and get to the bottom of this, no matter how much impact that guy has.

If he has to ruin a career to save a life, he will.

"I'll do my best. If it's a domestic abuse case she's probably pretty terrified." Jungkook mumbles more or less to himself, before he seems to arrive at the corner you're hidden in, curtains giving you some privacy. He doesn't know what to expect, really- even though he's read all of your data, everything he needs to know about your physical and mental state- he still won't know what he's dealing with until he goes behind that curtain.

And nothing in the world could've prepared him for what's behind that said curtain, as he pulls it back and catches his first glimpse of you.

He knows you.

Jimin is currently rushing from left to right with gauze, trying to stop your bleeding when Jungkook shows up. "I assume Namjoon filled you in?" He asks distracted, and Jungkook nods.

"Yeah. How's the bleeding?" He worries, watching how another nurse hangs up a bag of blood to prepare a transfusion to make up for the blood you've lost.

"Those two here-" Jimin points at the ones he's talking about. "Are alright for now, they're deep, but this one right here definitely hit one of the bigger blood vessels." He explains, exchanging the gauze again. "It just won't stop." He hisses to himself.

"Alright we've got the blood here already, which is good because that blood pressure is not making me happy right now." He says, taking control of the situation and nurses standing by for any sort of demand. "I want you to stop any medication you're using to keep her unconscious right now so we don't have her drop any further. Have we got any scans of the wounds yet?" He asks, and Jimin nods.

"She came back from CT a few minutes ago, they should be back soon." He says a bit distracted, hissing to himself when the wound starts bleeding as soon as he takes away the gauze.

"Where's her owner?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin's face shows all he needs to know.

"I'd say too worried about the potential scandal than here." He scoffs. "But trust me I'd rather deal with him than her careworker demon in the waiting room right now." He says.

"Let me guess, elderly woman, sour attitude and dark lipstick?" He asks.

"You know her?" Jimin wonders, fixating a bandage.

"Met them both a week ago I think? Already got a sense something was off.." He wonders. "Gives me a good chance to check on something though. Can you hold her turned a bit, I want to get a look at her tail." He asks the senior nurse, who nods, gently turning you on your side for his friend to look at.

He feels around at the base, all the way down to the tip of your tail, deep in thought.

"What're you looking for?" Jimin wonders, closely paying attention to your vitals as they slowly change, your consciousness returning very slowly.

"Proof." Jungkook simply states. Considering you're above the age of 21, he can't just lean on the help of the law for hybrid abuse- you're too old for that, and your category is too low as well. So the only way he can get you out of this situation, is by providing undisputable proof of present neglect or abuse.

"You think it's abuse?" Jimin wonders. "That's a big claim to make, Jungkook. That guy could ruin your career and future with a snap of his fingers."

"So can I." Jungkook himself simply says. "I want an X-ray of her tail, full side and length." He offers. "And as soon as she's back up, ping me."

"Did she break it?" Jimin wonders, carefully adjusting you back on your backside.

"Not today-" He says, taking his clipboard with him. "-but in the past, at least four times."

"that's not uncommon for canine hybrids." Jimin softly argues. "they knock their tails into things constantly." He claims.

"I'm aware." He nods. "But her tail's ice cold down the sixth vertebra. And that's exactly where she caught it last time I saw her- which means she didn't see anyone for it until now." He mumbles the last part to himself, running off to check with someone else he knows and trusts-

leaving a confused Jimin behind.

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"I could give you options to at least file in for neglect." Yoongi quietly mumbles, looking at the X-rays and scans. "Though if you spin it smart, you could argue about her past medical history being proof of something going on as well." The young man nods, reading the charts on the clipboard. "How do you know her?"

"Met her last week. She'd gotten her tail caught in those automatic glass doors, complained over numbness in her legs right after." He sighs. "Her caretaker was what bothered me most. She wasn't at all interested in her health." Yoongi nods at that, giving the clipboard back.

"Well-" He softly speaks, getting up to adjust something near the patient's bed, before he sits down again. "-I'm not in the position to tell you not to get attached to her." He responds, his gaze on the female feline hybrid in the bed, monitor beeping in a steady rhythm, soothing his mind a bit. Yoongi has been at her bedside ever since she was admitted- no owner to take care of her, instead in government care. No one knows exactly why he of all people is so attached to her, visiting her every day at least once- but it's a well known fact to everyone that he loves her dearly.

Even though, if they have any memories together, she won't remember any of them even if she ever wakes up.

"But I have to remind you that you're playing against a huge name. This will cost you your entire career if you fail." Yoongi says, and Jungkook nods.

He knows this. Going against a name as big as him will put him into the public eye as well- and considering that he doesn't have any foolproof evidence yet, he'd be dumb to actually try and involve authorities at this point in time. No matter what, this isn't as easy and cut-out as he wishes it would be.

"Do what you're paid for, for now." Yoongi reminds him. "Look after her, make sure she recovers, get her back on her feet. As soon as you leave this building, leave her here as well."

Jungkook sighs defeatedly, nodding. "I'll check up here before I go tonight." He says, nodding to the hospital bed behind Yoongi- but he only shrugs, before Jungkook get's pinged back to the emergency room where you're still placed.

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When he arrives, he can already hear the commotion from behind the privacy curtains.

"I have a right to be here, she's just being dramatic!" The familiar voice of the lady calls out, and Jungkook feels like he wants to turn and go the other way. But instead, he listens to Yoongi's advice, and enters the small section where you're being treated. "You! Put your workers in line here, I've been verbally assaulted just for checking up on her-" She argues, Jimin ready to snap at her.

"Miss- okay, let's calm down everyone, this is not helping her at all right now." Jungkok tries to solve the small fight between an angrily glaring Jimin and the older woman currently huffing in anger. "I kindly ask you to move to the side please so I can properly assess her, if you don't mind." He asks, but she crosses her arms.

"You can just squeeze past me, what's the big deal? I thought you've already done that, you've had her here for ages after all!" She huffs. "We've been here four hours almost, for a simple accident! This is ridiculous!" She yells at him, but he's not at all bothered by it.

"Miss I will have to get you removed if you're going to hinder me in doing my job." He calmly responds, noticing how you lean into Jimin's body, something the nurse notices as well as he masks gentle comforting touches as things such as adjusting your gown that you've been given. It's another clue that something's off- the way you're moving away from her, technically a known and familiar and usually comforting person, instead leaning towards a stranger in something scary as a hospital with all its sounds and smells.

"You can't make me do anything." She threatens him. "Who do you think you are? Fresh out of medical school and thinks he's something better! Are you even old enough to work as a doctor?!" She claims, and Jungkook simply sighs, opening the curtains a bit.

"Can I have security here, please?" He calls out, a nurse close by picking up a phone to call for them, while the woman is successfully triggered by his actions.

"Come on, up. We're leaving." She snaps at you, reaching to rip out the delicate tubes connected to your arm- but Jungkook steps in instead, putting his body in front of her so she can't reach you.

"Miss, I can understand this is stressful, but you're being unreasonable." He argues as gently as he can. "I can't let you take her in this condition."

"You're gonna hear about this!" She seethes as security leads her away. "Have fun playing doctor while you can.!" She hisses, being escorted away while still arguing.

Jungkook sighs, and so does Jimin.

"…m' sorry." You mumble quietly, and Jimin immediately looks at you gently.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart." He reassures. "Let's get you properly sorted out now, okay?" He tells you, and you nod.

"How are your legs doing, hm?" Jungkook asks, and now you seem to properly look at him for the first time.

"Oh." You simply say, only realizing now who he is. He looks a lot different than last time- his bangs are brushed back and revealing his forehead, and he's dressed in a more formal-casual style, with black slacks and a light brown button up, the first few undone. It's like he's suddenly aged up five years at least, but he doesn't seem unfriendly or intimidating at all, even though you can see the muscles underneath his skin work as he rolls up his sleeves.

"I look a bit different, don't I?" He chuckles, walking closer. "Are you in a lot of pain right now or is it manageable?" He wonders, and you finally seem to settle down quite a bit.

"Just a bit." You quietly answer him. "And my legs are okay." You explain. "Just.. feel a bit like I'm gonna be sick." You worry towards Jimin who's busied himself with petting one of your ears. When he hears this, he gets a small paper bowl ready just in case, and Jungkook nods as he checks all the vitals.

"Hm, your blood pressure is still a bit low so that might be why you feel a bit nauseous." He reassures. "We'll get some more fluids in for you, you're pretty dehydrated. Do you drink enough water during the day?" He asks you, and you shrug. "Don't know?" He chuckles in sympathy, aware that you might still be a bit dizzy and foggy in the head from everything going on.

"What's too little?" You ask him softly.

"Well, I'd say everything below maybe five glasses in a day?" He says, and your eyes widen.

"That much?" You wonder, looking at Jimin at your side.

"A lot of people forget to drink during the day." The nurse reassures. Jungkook however, can't help but dig deeper.

"Doesn't your owner make sure you drink enough?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Don't see him much." You mumble. "He's busy. I mostly stay with Miss Hwang, and she doesn't really pay much attention to what I eat or drink." You say, watching how Jungkook steps aside to let a nurse hang up a bag of IV-fluids.

"Hm, I see." He nods to himself.

"Am I in trouble?" You ask suddenly, ears pinned down.

"For what would you get into trouble for?" Jimin wonders next to you.

"Cause I used the phone without asking." You offer them. "I just got scared. I know it's not allowed for me to used it.." You say, and Jungkook exchanges a glance with Jimin.

"No, you're not in trouble." Jungkook reassures. "Who said you can't use the phone?" He wonders, though tries hard not to show his inner worry.

"My owner and Miss Hwang. Cause I'm a hybrid, and I'll go to prison if I do." You say.

"Can you tell me exactly what happened today?" Jungkook asks, pulling a chair closer to sit on it next to where you're laying.

"We had Dinner, Dongsun and uh, miss Hwang and I." You recall, looking at your hands. "I.. we had pizza." You describe, seeing the scene in front of you again. "And I wanted- I asked Dongsun for a piece of his and he said yeah- and usually he doesn't share with me so I got excited." You explain; looking at Jungkook as if to convey that you're sorry about whatever happened. "I knocked over a glass on the table, and it spilled on his phone I think- so he got angry, and I think he just wanted to hit the table, but he- I think he just- he just didn't see that I was sitting too close, probably, maybe- and-" You ramble now. "I don't know, I don't think I remember it right, I think I just got scared and made things up in my head." You stutter, Jimin gently rubbing your shoulder in reassurance.

Jungkook can sense something wrong here.

"Do you do that a lot?" He asks. "Make stuff up in your head when you're scared?" He questions, and you shrug.

"Dongsun says I do. Hybrids do that all the time, he says." You explain to him. "So I- Miss Hwang and Dongsun will know what happened, really. I- you're a doctor right? Why do we do that?" You ask, and Jungkook can't give you an answer.

Because there is none. Whatever world-view and twisted facts you've been fed until now are simply bullshit.

"What.. happened in your mind?" Jungkook carefully asks, as Namjoon enters the small space. "Like, what do you remember happened?" He wonders.

"Dongsun got really angry. He gets angry often, because I'm stupid." You explain casually, making Namjoon's face twist into one of pure confusion. "He was surprised for a second when he accidentally hit my leg with the knife. But then he.. I don't know, it was like he.. snapped. And so he did it again, and another time, until I ran away and hid in the bathroom." You say. "In my mind it looked like he was hurting me on purpose. So I ran off, and- no wait, I didn't run into the bathroom, it was the bedroom. Yeah. I made a mess there- Dongsun has a really pretty white carpet there, I got into trouble once because I accidentally dropped a glass of juice on it.." You drift off.

"Did you call the ambulance there?" Jungkook questions, and you nod.

"That's where I used Miss Hwang's phone that was on the bed." You say, and it confuses everyone for a second why her phone would be there- but they don't think about it for now. "Am I gonna get put into jail now?" You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, absolutely not sweetheart." He shakes his head. "You did a great job calling for help. We'll take good care of you, and make sure you'll be alright, okay?" He asks, and you nod.

"I think I might be sick.." You mumble ashamed at Jimin, who quickly reaches for the paper bowl to hold for you, another hand holding your hair away from your face.

"Why is her blood pressure still so low?" Namjoon wonders more quietly to Jungkook, who'd just stood up as well, arms crossed.

"Maybe an underlying issue undiagnosed." Jungkook mumbles, watching you. "Maybe drugs. I'm gonna have them do a urine test for common birth control and hormone blockers. I've not got a good feeling with her whatsoever." He lowly tells his coworker. "I know domestic abuse when I see it, and right there-" He looks back at where you're laying back down with the help of Jimin, another nurse walking in to tell him something, "-is a hybrid who's been conditioned into believing that she can't trust her own judgement, and that she has to abide by everything her owner and caretaker say." He tells Namjoon, walking out of your hearing range for a moment. "Hell- they told her it's illegal for a hybrid to use a fucking phone, Namjoon, that's cult-shit!" He hisses.

"Yoongi has told me you're suspecting something like that." The emergency doctor shakes his head. "Hearing the little that I did, I'm honestly on board with you. But we're not law enforcement. Jungkook, our hands are bound- she's above age and below category for us to use any of the safety laws in this case." He reminds the younger doctor.

"I know." He sighs, defeated. "Fuck, I know."

"Let's make sure she gets the treatment she needs for now, alright? Go one step at a time." Namjoon tries to reassure his friend. "For now, you've got medicine on your side. She can't be taken home in this condition, no matter if her owner wants that or not. Currently, she's legally in our care, until she's deemed healthy enough to go back home." He reminds his friend, who nods.

"I guess that's all the time we get." He worries, watching as everyone walks around, Jimin exiting your little space to talk to another nurse standing by.

And for the first time in a long while, Jungkook knows he'll go against Yoongi's advice, and take his work home tonight.

Your fearful gaze haunting him in his sleep.