#medical procedure cw

[iamdarcylewis]

The first thing she felt was cold, but she was always cold so what was the difference? Then she felt heavy, and the bright white light when she opened her eyes. 

This… Wasn’t the apartment.

Panicked eyes scanning the room, all white, and a nurse right next to her who noticed Darcy was awake and started to talk to her but she didn't understand anything. Why didn't she understand anything? Oh yeah, she's speaking in another language so Darcy just shrugged her shoulders.

The nurse left and a doctor came in, nodding and giving Darcy a small smile.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Braun. I'm the doctor in charge of your case so I'll be explaining everything so far, if you have any questions please let me know." Darcy only nodded as he continued.

"Miss Lewis, you had a cardiac arrest. This can be caused for a lot of reasons which we can discuss once you've rested." Darcy was really tired if she didn't correct him when he called her miss and not doctor. "You're gonna need an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator, which is kind of like a pacemaker but instead of preventing your heart from going too slow, the ICD prevents it from going too fast."

"So I'm gonna be like a cyborg now?" She joked and God, her voice sounded so raspy and realized how thirsty she was. The doctor didn't laugh at her joke, tough crowd. "I'm.. I'm kidding."

"Yes, good to see you're in a good mood." Man, he was so serious. At least her doctor in Ne.w Yo.rk rolled her eyes at her, Darcy couldn't believe she'd miss her. "We will do this procedure tomorrow morning and depending on how well you begin to recover."

Darcy asked him more questions and he answered almost all of them, if he didn't he said they'd see after her procedure.

"Oh, and your friends are here." He said before leaving and Darcy nodded.

Wait, friends? But only Gabe was in G.ermany and talking to her.

[astrcthesiai-archived]

thank you for taking care of me. (Lami @ Marie)

Pale eyes widened as Marie's back was turned from Lami, who sat up in one of the sick beds. Marie finished washing her hands thoroughly after taking off her gloves. The redhead could feel her cheeks warm, as this was one of the rare times she had ever heard this.

The blood manipulator pulled a paper towel and dried her hands off as she turned to Lami.

"No problem, I'm happy to help," she said. "The stitches I made with your blood were a quick fix until we got to the ship's E.R. We later switched it when we had the right thread. Your brother is on his way. In the meantime, Nerissa's made tea, toast, and eggs. Would you like some?"

[weevilsart]

!CONTENT WARNING MEDICAL PROCEDURE!

Yesterday I got a Matrixectomy done on my toe and I found out I’m allergic to latex too?! The tourniquet they use had latex in it and my toe turned red and was burning???? I wasn’t allergic to latex before, but then again my mom and two of my brothers are also allergic to latex so it makes sense,

[teaboot]

seeing the NSFW question and answers you've got happening here

my vulva is really itchy and sore but I haven't had any kind of sex recently or even used any sex toys recently. I haven't changed my washing powder. I haven't douched ever or used soap inside my vulva or used any lotions or scents around my vulva. I last shaved 2 weeks ago with a razor and the same body wash I always use. I don't think it's BV or thrush and its driving me mad. help?

CW DISCUSSION OF REPRODUCTIVE HEALTH

Shaving public hair can increase your odds of developing bacterial infections, yeast infections, and UTIs, all of which can present as soreness or itchiness. Underwear made of synthetic fabrics can, too. High-sugar diets, hormone fluctuations, thong underwear, dehydration, bath water quality, and some lubes can, too, as well as touching without washing hands thoroughly first. Long nails especially are fantastic at holding onto and transporting bacteria and fungi. Antibiotics can cause these issues, and antibiotics can cure these issues. Medications, too.

Short and simple annoying answer: Could be anything.

I recommend drinking lots of water and cranberry juice and seeing a doctor- if it is BV then using a yeast infection treatment will burn like holy hellfire and you dont want that. Getting a urine test is your best bet.

In the meantime, again, drink lots of water and urinate frequently. Don't wash with soap, but do wash, and do so with clean water. Wear loose clothing when possible made of breathable fabrics like cotton. Change underwear daily.

I'm not a doctor or a medical professional. These are just things I've picked up through work and life. My first recommendation is always to contact a doctor, and if you start producing unusual discharge, experiencing pain during urination, developing sores, welts, or a rash, or end up with swelling or pain in your lower back, DEFINITELY seek medical assistance.

Good luck, bud 👍

[whump-in-the-closet]

“Come on, come on. Breathe. In and out. You can manage that.”

Field Whump Time >:)

Hero collapsed in the moss. The smell of grass rose up to meet him, new and green.

His leg throbbed. He didn't have to look to know that the soft ground was soaked with blood.

His team caught up with him, their voices filling the air with anxious whispers. To him, it sounded like they were shouting.

"Hero?"

"Are you alright?"

"Hey! C'mon mate, get up!"

Hero, with a desperate sound, put his hands beneath him. He pushed himself up on all fours and then, digging a hand into a tree trunk, stood.

The faces of his team blurred together. He blinked and they cleared. He shook his head, putting a hand out to wave them aside. "I'm...I'm okay." Breathing should not hurt as much as it did, but other than that...he was fine. He refused to look at his leg.

"Are you sure?" asked Leader.

Hero took his hand off the tree to prove exactly how fine he was doing. Putting weight on his injured leg sent a spike of pain up his entire body, fresh and horrific. "Yeah," he gasped.

Medic looked at Hero for a long moment, their expression unreadable.

Hero broke eye contact first and took a step forward, to further prove himself. "We need to keep going--AH--" Hero crumpled to one knee, his leg betraying him. His face went white.

Medic turned to Leader and shook their head. As quickly as that, his sentence was passed.

Hero struggled to stand, but Medic put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Lie down. We have to remove the bullet." They spoke like they were simply announcing the result of a calculation.

Hero looked from Leader to Medic, searching their faces for any way of escape, and found none. He turned to his teammates. Nothing. "No, you don't have to do this." His voice shook. "No, please."

Medic crouched down next to Hero, unraveling their pack. Hero caught a glimpse of shining metal and shuddered. Medic caught him looking. "We have to work quickly." They did not say don't worry, it won't hurt.

The air contracted around Hero as Leader gently pushed him to the ground. It seemed to shimmer, as unreal as this whole situation. He dug his nails into the soft moss when he heard metal clinking against metal.

"Please," Hero tried again. "Please--"

"Give him something to bite down on," said Medic. "You two, grab his arms, don't let him thrash around."

Hero tried to jerk upright at this but his teammates already had him pinned. One whispered an apology as they pressed him into the ground, the other said nothing and would not look at him.

Leader squeezed his hand sympathetically, then held up a piece of leather, waiting to see if he would take it.

Hero blinked.

He was back.

Villain standing above him, just out of his line of sight--

No, no, no, n--no

"Keep begging like the dog you are."

The flash of steel-- the sudden brightness of it inside him-- digging under his skin, biting deep. Deeper and twisting--

Hero was shaking, suddenly aware of Leader and the moss and Medic cutting away his pant leg to reveal not one, but two, bullets embedded above his knee.

He nodded. "Give it to me." He bit down on the leather and hoped it would muffle his screams.

Villain's favorite pastime had involved a knife and Hero under his blade.

Medic pressed cool steel against the wound and Hero tried to scramble away, back arching.

Through the roaring in his ears, he heard Leader telling him to breathe.

He dug his hands into the moss, green and white behind his eyes. The smell of iron grew stronger. He couldn't--

"Come on, come on. Breathe. In and out. You can manage that.”

Hero exhaled a shuddering breath.

Medic dug deeper.

He screamed into the gag.

"In and out!" snapped Leader. "Breathe in and out."

Hero was shaking. He inhaled shallowly, more out of instinct than obedience.

Then came Medic's clear voice, "Got the first one."

Leader patted Hero's shoulder in sympathy.

Hero exhaled. His breathing came at a quicker and quicker pace, hands buried in the dirt, as Medic dug out the second bullet.

The color green danced behind his eyes, dull and pounding. He tried to drown himself in it. It didn't help. The taste of leather in his mouth felt wrong-- like vinegar or something sour-- warning bells going off too late.

He didn't hear Medic's relief when they said, "We're done." He only felt the tight pressure of the bandages being wrapped. His teammates let him up and when he spat the leather gag out, he noticed, vaguely, the dirt under his nails was bloodstained.

He worked his jaw in a circle, trying to erase the taste of wrongness. "Fuck you guys," he muttered.

[askquarantinedredheart]

That all looks so scary to go through... Did you have anyone there to comfort you?

Content Warning: Medical procedures (specifically a thoracentesis here), needles, bodily fluids, and healthcare workers flirting like weirdos.

Volume 1: Isolation

First - Previous - Next - Last

And the "How Redheart Got TB" flashback arc is finally finished! There's a couple of asks from folks that fit more as an "after story Q&A" so a good chunk of the next couple of posts will be answering those.

Quite a few posts in this arc generated quite a bit of interest in the blog so I also wanted to take this time to thank everyone who's been along for the ride so far! I've mentioned that this is very much a labor of love, especially now that I'm officially a third year medical student currently on rotations. It means a lot that folks are interested in this ask blog, even with my fairly garbage upload schedule aka "it'll be done when it's done." Thanks again everyone!

Ask from @ask-wizard-sunburst

[endcfanempire]

Obi-Wan felt a gentle tug of sympathy for the boy when he looked up at the older man, showing the clarity of revelation in his young eyes. Certainly his former Master had told the boy that he'd been freed, he must have; but it was clear to Obi-Wan in those moments that no one had ever properly explained just what 'freedom' meant. Indeed, Anakin Skywalker had gone from one planet with rules, regulations and severe consequences (Tatooine) to another planet with rules, regulations and not-quite-so-severe consequences (Coruscant), without ever truly understanding the differences between the two. To the boy, being a Padawan learner probably felt simply like another form of slavery. That idea made Obi-Wan's stomach churn, and he vowed in that moment to ensure that Anakin knew the difference between willing servitude and slavery, even at the cost of him realizing his true freedom. But not that day. That day was meant for medical attention and rest-- not complicated conversations. Once they arrived at the Temple's small-but-satisfactory medical bay and the droid began to inspect the young patient, Obi-Wan sighed softly and felt himself relax just a bit. He wasn't sure what it was about the scent of the carbolic surroundings of the sterile room and the crunching of the unfamiliar starched pillowcases that brought the elder man�� peace. It was said once by his former Master that this observation meant he might've been more suited for medicinal practices, but Obi-Wan had known straightaway that his calling had always been leading him down the path of Jedi Knight- not MedCorps. "We require diagnostics and medication for Padawan Skywalker." Obi-Wan replied, speaking to the medical droid but not looking at it properly, studying his young Padawan as the boy wavered where he stood. Despite his best efforts, when he spoke, the concern he felt for the boy shone through in the tone and the furrowed brow on his face. "He seems to be running a rather high fever, is in considerable pain and is quite congested--- where is Master Allie and the other Healers? Have they been summoned elsewhere?" The last question was posed directly to the medical droid as Obi-Wan glanced about the medical bay and saw that it was, apart from the medical droids themselves and the two other patients, nearly barren.

The young boy's eyes remained downcast as Obi-Wan helped him to his feet, though at the man's next words, he did glance up. "Yes sir," he murmured, swallowing hard and nodding. "It's- I will try to remember, Master," he said, face scrunching up as he tried to fathom how he could possibly put the concept in his mind into words.

Anakin followed after Obi-Wan as they made their way through the halls of Coruscant's Jedi Temple. The Padawan was grateful for how deserted it seemed -- most of the initiates, Padawans, and young knights would be at their afternoon meditation, as they had been. He hadn't been having the easiest time adjusting to life at the temple. On more than one occasion he had gotten into verbal altercations with some of the other Padawans that had almost turned into something more serious. He was fairly sure he had also overheard Master Windu speaking with Obi-Wan about taking him off world for his training in order to 'avoid disrupting the others'.

The memory triggered a pang of guilt and shame in the young Padawan. He didn't want to be a burden, but too often he felt that was exactly what he was. The Council hadn't even wanted him to be trained. Obi-Wan hadn't even wanted to be his Master. But they had agreed, and now he was. His only choice was to be the best he could be -- to pass every test -- to prove that he was worth the chance they had all taken on him.

Anakin's thoughts were interrupted by their arrival to the small medical bay on the outskirts of the temple. As the doors hissed open, a medical droid immediately whirred over, scanner arm already extended as it asked Obi-Wan what service he needed.

[snarp]

Countries where the medical industry NEVER bothers to hire technical artists

and it's ALWAYS just fucking improperly-angled photos taken in a public restroom in Silent Hill, UNLESS they got someone out of Plato's Fucking Cave who has never seen ITEMS before to try and fucking TRACE said photos:

United States

UK

Canada

India

The implication is clear: the UK hates technical artists specializing in the medical field and so systematically eliminated them in all their colonies, ironically dooming all English speakers to die of some kind of misapplied ointment accident. This will happen by 2046. We're fucked.

[thedeafprophet]

I lived bitch

[withoutalice]

WIP doujin page. Kinda based in some past irl stuffs haha. Also can be looked at in the lense of my Max fic.

I know it looks bad in the tags but it's not medical malpractice i promise-

They're just trying to help...

[talentforlying]

he certainly doesn't think he'll agree with himself in the morning, the way his insides are feeling at the moment. his outsides, too, for that matter. but it's sort of funny to picture, innit? jake lockley being anything even slightly other than practical, pushy, and properly bloodyminded. he'd take a picture if he owned a camera. or could get his fingers to do anything finer than squeeze.

' takin' yer sodding time about it, ennye? ' see, he doesn't do nice either. it's why they get along: no social pressures. fewer scruples. he heaves a theatrical sigh that hurts all the way down to his bones and shrivels up before it can get the proper steam to sound much more than strained. ' s'not like i'm . . . ngh. dancin' off the table, mate. '

just a bit longer. he can do that. no stranger to holding out against the darkness, him. no slouch at it, either. still, it'd be a sight easier if he at least had a cigarette, and the thought makes him frown. ' you think f'i smoke, is it . . . s'it gonna come out've me? other than from the usual spots. ' that'd be a sight to see; he's used to people saying he smokes like a chimney, bet they'd never expect it to happen like an incense burner. ' give us a silk cut, m'gonna try that. '

oh, the fucking nerve: ask him for a story and get pissy about how he tells it. still, he can't resist the tired grin at the response to his ass tattoo; jake lockley, getting forward. he'll remember that. ( maybe. )

other tattoos, yeah, he's got those too. ' seals of hermes, s'the circles on me chest. bastard ripped 'em right up, i'll 'ave to . . . t'get them done again. 'nother protection racket. got a stick'n'poke . . . venus symbol, back'o the neck. me mate frank was a dab hand, wanted to memorialize our band's first single. fucked up the circle, though, looks more like an 'eart. ' bad time to be thinking about the band, when there's blood everywhere and his mind's not anchored enough to keep from slipping back to the dark corners where his failures dwell. pack that up, put it back in its box. this isn't newcastle. we're not in newcastle.

he's already starting to drift, but jake's insistence drags him back to sense with a groan of dismay. ah, hell. he doesn't want to be a corpse. doesn't want to know how jake would dispose of his corpse. what a shitty oul' world this is, where he can't even have five minutes kip without becoming a corpse. ' christ, f'yer gonna have a fuckin' strop about it, then you talk about summat. m'doin' all the bloody work 'ere an' i can't even . . . can't even think right. '

If there’s any word to describe Jake Lockley, nice isn’t it. Brash, sure. Asshole, definitely. But not nice. He resists the urge to roll his eyes at Constantine’s insistence that he is, unable (unwilling) to waste any time on something that isn’t stitching him up. Those precious few seconds could mean the difference between life and death, and Jake doesn’t plan on losing him. Not today. Not like this.

“Almost done.” An assurance that’s not quite true. He’s still got a little ways to go, but if it makes Constantine feel even a bit better—he’s gotta be in a world of pain, right now; Jake doesn’t envy him—it’s no skin off his nose to lie about it. “Just stay with me, alright? Just a bit longer.”

Finishing off yet another little row of stitches, he starts in on the next one, working his way from the largest shard to the smallest. He’s about halfway through, at this point. Is starting to feel the slightest bit more confident that the guy’s not going to die on him (thank god they all somehow missed major arteries), but they’re not out of the woods yet. Even once he is completely stitched up, he still has to make it through the night.

Eventually, Constantine starts talking about his tattoos, and Jake follows him for the first three, vaguely recognizes hearing the fourth term at some point, but after that?

Yeah, he’s lost him.

“Now you’re just makin’ up words.” His tone’s accusatory, but there’s no real heat behind it. Maybe those’re real terms, but for all Jake knows, the blood loss could just be getting to him and scrambling his brain. Hopefully not, but he can’t discount the possibility.

The tree on his ass pulls a startled laugh from him, lips twitching up into a small smirk. “If I wanted t’ see your ass, I’d at least buy you a drink first.” Not that he wants to see Constantine’s ass. Not that he’d mind. “Y’ got any others?” He makes the mistake of looking up to Constantine’s face, frowns at the hand over his eyes. He’s running out of steam, they both are, but Jake can’t have him passing out on him now.

“Hey. Eyes open, man. Keep talkin’. Doesn’t matter what about. Can sing the friggin’ alphabet, if y’ want. Y’ just gotta show me you’re not dead.” A beat. Did that count as nice? Constantine would probably count that as nice, wouldn’t he? “Don’t wanna waste my time stitchin’ up a corpse.” There. That’ll fix it.

[alastors-airwaves]

finally someone is taking Luci to the doctors. Thank you Charlie

Lucifer scowled as he was practically dragged through the doors of the clinic, his arms crossed and his steps reluctant. Charlie, his determined daughter, was at his side, practically pulling him along.

Lucifer: *grumbling* This is completely unnecessary, Charlie. I don’t need some... doctor poking and prodding me. I’m fine.

Charlie: *sternly* You’re 18 weeks pregnant and haven’t seen a doctor once, Dad! I’m not letting you avoid this any longer. It’s for your own health, and the baby’s.

Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes, though there was an underlying nervousness he couldn’t quite mask. Doctors weren’t his thing, not even back when he was still in Heaven. But now, pregnant, vulnerable—it was a different level of discomfort.

Lucifer: *gritting his teeth* I’ve lived eons without ever needing one of these so-called specialists. I don’t see why it’s necessary now.

Charlie: *firmly* Because you’re not immortal when it comes to this! Pregnancies are delicate, Dad. Even for you. *She shot him a look that left no room for argument.* So you’re going in there, and you’re getting checked.

Lucifer sighed heavily, defeated for the moment. He followed Charlie into the clinic's waiting area, his head held high despite the discomfort. The sterile smell of the place only added to his irritation, and the sound of medical equipment in the background sent a shiver of unease through him.

Soon enough, a nurse appeared, cheerful but professional.

Nurse: *smiling* Mr. Morningstar, we’re ready for you.

Lucifer: *under his breath* Wonderful.

Charlie nudged him forward, and Lucifer reluctantly followed the nurse into one of the examination rooms. Once inside, he sat stiffly on the edge of the examination table, looking out of place as if he were preparing for battle.

Lucifer: *muttering* This is ridiculous...

The doctor, a surprisingly composed demon with spectacles and a clipboard, entered the room shortly after. He raised an eyebrow at Lucifer, clearly aware of who he was dealing with, but remained professional.

Doctor: Good morning, my king. Let’s take a look at how things are going, shall we?

Lucifer glared but didn’t protest as the doctor began the examination. Charlie stood by the door, watching with a mix of concern and amusement at her father’s clear discomfort.

The examination room was quiet, save for the faint hum of medical equipment. Lucifer lay back, arms crossed as the doctor prepared the ultrasound machine. Charlie, standing nearby, kept her watchful eyes on both her father and the doctor, determined to ensure that everything went smoothly.

Doctor: *applying the cool gel on Lucifer’s belly* This might feel a little cold.

Lucifer: Lovely.

The doctor began the ultrasound, moving the probe gently over Lucifer’s abdomen. The room filled with the sound of the baby’s heartbeat, a rapid, rhythmic pulse that softened the tension in the air. Charlie’s eyes lit up, her hands clasped in front of her chest as she listened to the heartbeat, her worry momentarily fading.

Doctor: *smiling faintly* There she is. Strong heartbeat.

Charlie: *softly* She?

Doctor: *nodding* It’s a girl.

Lucifer blinked, his eyes widening slightly. He had suspected the baby’s gender, but hearing it confirmed stirred something within him.

Lucifer: *muttering* A girl…

Charlie smiled brightly, her excitement growing. But the doctor’s expression soon became more serious as he continued to scan the baby’s form on the screen. He zoomed in, his brow furrowing slightly as he examined the image more closely.

Doctor: *quietly* Hmm…

Charlie: *noticing his change in demeanor* Is something wrong?

Doctor: *hesitating, trying to be as diplomatic as possible* There are... some abnormalities.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, and his body tensed. Charlie stepped closer to the monitor, concern washing over her face as she stared at the blurry shapes on the screen.

Doctor: *pointing to the screen* The baby isn’t developing a left eye. There also seems to be scar tissue forming on her arms, legs, and back. It’s already visible, which is… unusual at this stage.

Lucifer sat up slightly, his heart pounding in his chest as the doctor continued to explain. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

Lucifer: *demanding* Scars? From what?

Doctor: *shaking his head* "It’s hard to say. There doesn’t appear to be any genetic cause for this. Scarring like this can sometimes occur due to injury, but…

Lucifer’s stomach dropped as the doctor trailed off. He remembered all too well what had happened—the attack, the injuries Adam had sustained before Lucifer took the baby into his own body to save her. The realization hit him like a blow, and he clenched his jaw, his anger rising. This was his fault.

Charlie: *softly* Dad…?

Lucifer didn’t respond at first, staring blankly at the ultrasound screen. His daughter was already suffering, and it was because of his mistakes.

Doctor: *cautiously* It’s possible the baby experienced some trauma earlier in the pregnancy. These malformations aren’t progressing now, but the scars are already there. We’ll have to monitor her closely from now on.

Lucifer’s hands clenched into fists. He didn’t want to admit it out loud, but he knew what had caused this—his recklessness, his inability to protect Adam properly. Now, his child was paying the price.

Lucifer: *quietly* Is there… anything that can be done?

Doctor: *sighing* "We’ll continue to monitor her growth, but there’s no way to reverse the damage that’s already been done. The important thing is to ensure she remains healthy for the rest of the pregnancy.

Charlie placed a hand on Lucifer’s arm, sensing his turmoil. She could see the guilt eating away at him.

Charlie: *softly* Dad, this isn’t your fault…

Lucifer: *his voice cold, distant* It is.

Doctor: I’ll schedule regular check-ups to keep an eye on the baby’s development. You’ll need to come in frequently to make sure everything stays stable.

Lucifer nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere. His daughter—scarred, damaged because of him. He felt the weight of his sins pressing down on him more heavily than ever before.

Charlie: *gently* We’ll get through this, Dad. You’re doing the best you can.

Lucifer: *quietly* Is it enough?

Charlie didn’t know how to answer that. She squeezed his arm, trying to offer some comfort as the doctor finished the examination and began cleaning up.

Doctor: We’ll keep a close watch on things. Make sure you rest and avoid any more stress. Your daughter needs a stable environment to grow in.

Lucifer only nodded again, though his mind was elsewhere—on the scars his daughter would bear, both physical and emotional.

[tapuhauko]

Hi everyone!! I'll be putting my blogs on semi-hiatus for now. I'll try to be around now and then but I got to put my health first for a bit! Details will be below the cut. Feel free to ask for my discord, I might make a 1x1 thing or a lil server for us to write in potentially! [ CW medical talk, hospital procedures, blood test mention ]

So. I had my check-up at the hospital yesterday. Had blood tested again last week for this, and got the results yesterday. Basically, all the values we wanted to go down have just risen once more. It's to do with my infection levels/CRP and my liver, both are still on the higher side and show no signs of lowering, and instead rose, despite it being two months now. It makes sense, cause my symptoms (muscle / joint / back and knee pain and extreme tiredness) have just worsened a tad too, so I feel kinda validated in a way as well? That I'm not making stuff up I mean, or that it's most likely not due to my brain's way of badly processing stimuli.

Either way, it's not good, so I now have a PET scan and an echo planned and they took more blood for testing. I'm honestly kinda afraid of what they could find given family history, but I also know it's better to just test and see than to just wait and do nothing. So yeah, that's my situation right now. I still go to my zoo work, and I still love it there, but I have to take a step back in multiple areas cause I just fall asleep after dinner and then sleep for 12-14 hours a day. It's just not healthy, and the lack of evening time to spend on hobbies has slowly dented my mood as well ;u; I'll try to be around at times, but I just need to watch my health for now ;u; I'll be around on discord a lot still, so feel free to ask for that! Once again thank u all for being patient with me!! care u all! <3

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

All eyes on me

Supervillain thought they could rule the world forever, they were wrong

CW: needles, medical procedure, restraints

Supervillain opened their eyes. It was funny because they don’t really remember closing them. Their vision blurred in front of them, sending their head into a dangerous spin. The nausea felt far away, so did the rest of them, their fingers a faint tingle in the vacuum. But slowly it was coming back to them, the cool air against their skin, the ache in their neck, even the sour taste in their mouth.

Then the tightness around their wrists

Rope was a familiar sensation against their skin, however usually it’s the other way around. The rope in their hands, around someone else’s wrists. They were tight, well done. Supervillain couldn’t move, not even a little. It made their hands tingle, but not enough to cut off circulation entirely, just enough to be deeply uncomfortable.

The room kept spinning as Supervillain tried looking up, the lights too bright, colours too muted. A light shifted, their eyes springing with tears that they tried to blink through. Someone shifted, a body near them, their heat startling against the cold.

“Maybe I gave you too much,” a voice muttered. The light shifted further, got closer. Supervillain recoiled.

“Wh-” their tongue was cotton, thick and tangled. They flinched, head lolling to the side, but a hand caught their skin.

“You don’t recognise me, do you?”

Supervillain still couldn’t see let alone recognise an asshole with a torch. They tried saying as much but all that tumbled out were half baked consonants.

The light vanished and so did the body, a whisp of a sigh falling from Supervillain’s lips. They weren’t sure where the fucker went but they took the time to breath, sucking in slow and measured breaths that filled their body.

Water poured over them, icy and biting and the slow measured breath turned into a gasp, followed by splashes of liquid that caught in Supervillain’s throat. They coughed, the thing shaking through their whole body as it quickly turned into a fit.

The hand came back, another rubbing their shoulder as the fit eased. Supervillain coughed up the last of the water, blinking into clearer vision.

A person stepped in front of them, smiling.

“Is that better?” They said. “Head a little clearer?”

“Le-”

“Ah,” they said, hand snaking out, pressing against Supervillain’s mouth. “I want you to recognise me first. I want you to remember.”

Supervillain stared into their face, their eyes. Nothing. Just another person for them to use, another person for them to control like everyone else. Something in the back of their mind shifted. Their eyes were pretty they guess, had they dated them? Rejected them? Were they about to be bested by a miffed ex?

You’re cute.

The memory came back all at once.

Too bad you’re in my way.

Supervillain’s eyes widened, but not nearly as much as Villain’s grin.

“Surprise.”

Villain stepped back, removing their hand but Supervillain was too shocked to speak.

“Wow,” Villain breathed. “You really thought you’d never see me again. That you could just lock me up and throw away the key.”

Supervillain truly had. Why wouldn’t they? It had never happened before, was supposed to never happen at all. Villain was barely recognisable now, worn, their body tired but eyes glistening with a mad delight.

“How?” It was the only think Supervillain could think, the only thing that mattered.

Villain delighted in the question, picking at the long sleeve of their shirt before beginning to roll it up.

“It took a lot of time,” they said, the scars on their arm slowly revealing. “A lot of experimentations and even more mistakes.” They rolled the sleeve up above their elbow, began on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to experiment on yourself? To cut into your own bone marrow?”

“Impossible,” Supervillain said.

“It should be, yes,” Villain nodded finishing the other sleeve. “But when you have time and immortality on your side you can get very creative.”

Supervillain just stared.

“Its understandable, why you were so cocky. Why you thought you could win,” Villain said, now pacing around Supervillain. “You have this power at your fingertips, one so strong and seemingly so reliable. You had no reason to think it would fail. No one can fault you on that.”

Villain stood somewhere behind Supervillain and it made the hairs on the back of their neck stand on end. A shiver ran through them and suddenly a true sense of danger sunk into their gut.

“Let me go,” Supervillain demanded, strong and powerful.

Nothing. Supervillain’s ears rung as they waited, skin itched ready for the ropes to come undone.

Villain laughed, a mad and joyous thing.

“I wasn’t entirely certain it would work,” they beamed, walking back to the front. “Sure, I could break your old demand, but would my alterations hold up to new ones? Could I disobey you?” Villain grinned ear to ear like a giddy child. “Oh I have waited so, so long for this day, to see that look in your eyes. Does it make you feel helpless? Feel weak?”

“Let me go,” Supervillain said again, firmer, pushing more intent into their words. Nothing.

Villain cackled.

“How did you enjoy the spotlight hey? The title world’s most dangerous villain?”

“Let me go.” Supervillain yelled, chest tightening.

Villain was on them, hands pressed against their wrist, face millimetres away.

“Oh but sweetie I am having so much fun. You had the arrogance to think you could take my spotlight, but now it’s my turn, and I am hungry for that light on my face.”

“This is impossible.”

“It was inevitable,” Villain stepped back. They wondered across the room, somewhere behind Supervillain.  

“Even if I can’t control you,” Supervillain said, “I still control everyone else. You won’t be able to move in this world without me knowing about it.”

Villain hummed, “oh you will know about every move I make, right up to your last breath.”

Supervillain tugged against their restraints.

Villain came back around with a needle in their hand, and without a word they grabbed Supervillain’s bicep, steadying the arm as they slipped it into the vein, precise and practiced.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m solving the problem you presented,” Villain said.

Villain carefully drew the blood, Supervillain watched it spill into the vial, head getting light. Villain filled four vials before removing the needle, not gentle in the slightest.

Supervillain arched themself, straining their neck as much as possible to see where Villain went, and as they did, they caught a glimpse of the entire room behind them. They were in a laboratory, Supervillain positioned over near a wall, everything around them pushed back.

Villain came back, still behind them though, something else in their hand.

“What is this?” Supervillain said.

Villain looked back around the room.

“Don’t you recognise it?”

Supervillain didn’t.

“This is the hole you tried to bury me in.”

Some sharp went into Supervillain’s back and the pain was blinding.

“Hold still,” Villain said, “I don’t want to damage anything.”

Supervillain did, only because every move brought more agony. Their nails dug into the chair, teeth about to shatter as they felt something move about, before being withdrawn. Supervillain gasped, choked on their spit.

“You’re doing so good,” Villain purred.

“They will come find me,” Supervillain growled. “And when they do, I will cut you up into tiny pieces and-”

Villain snatched their hair and wrenched their head back.

“No one is coming. No one cares about you,” Villain hissed. “That’s the thing about your power, no one is loyal to you, and because of your arrogance you had no safety measures in places. No one will come for you because they are all too busy carrying out your demands and will continue to do so until you issue new ones.”

Supervillain stared, the words sitting heavy on their chest, sinking deep into their stomach. There had to at least be someone, right? They hadn’t controlled everyone…

They had, they truly had. Everyone who worked under them, every enemy who encountered them, they were all under Supervillain’s control. Supervillain never gave anyone the chance to come in willingly, they didn’t need to. It was why they were the world’s most feared villain.

“You have come so far, and yet you’re still so ignorant, a baby in this world.” Villain tapped Supervillain’s cheek, letting go of their hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you what a real villain is.”

They came back around the front.

“I will remind the whole world what a real villain is,” Villain grinned.

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

[lightbulb-warning]

it has occurred to me that it's not completely impossible for someone to live their entire life without bleeding. or is it. sounds fake