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aswallowimprisoned · 4 months
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Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Oxygen mask
3 vignettes of Nurse Ivan Brunel putting oxygen masks on the merman.
@medwhumpmay
Tw Panic attack, PTSD recovery, captivity, drugged behaviour, attempted violence, biting
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫ Vignette 1 ≪ °❈° ≫
The drugged merman was leaning forwards, hanging at the extent on his shoulder restraints, swinging gently from side to side and humming tunelessly under his breath.
“Propofanol has hit pretty hard, but he seems happy enough, don’t you Nathaniel?” Ivan asked.
The merman looked up at the mention of his name, a string of drool hanging from his lip.
“Let me just clean your face off for you…”Ivan wadded up a towelette to wipe the saliva away. Nathaniel opened his mouth and sank his teeth into the fabric.
“Bitey,” Ivan commented, leaving the towel to hang from the sea monster’s mouth. He got bored of it quickly, and dropped the salivary serviette onto his lap.
“Going to put an O2 mask on to prevent any good natured biting, and respiratory support is never amiss…”
Fogal let out a soft coo of surprise as Ivan took a gentle grip of his hair with one hand and placed the plastic mask over his face with the other, before threading the elastic straps over each ear.
“There you are Nathaniel, ready for our trip to the CT room…”
≪ °❈° ≫ Vignette 2 ≪ °❈° ≫
“It’s…hard…to breathe…” Nathaniel gasped out, clinging to the side of the swimming pool.
“It’s ok Nathaniel, we will get you sorted out… Can you put this on for me?” Ivan tossed the O2 mask the short distance to the sea monster, unwilling to get any closer while the merman was unrestrained and panicked.
Nathaniel flailed for the plastic mask, before slapping it over his face and hauling in some deep breaths. Ivan stood over him and watched him carefully. No cyanosis in the fingers, no peculiarities in movement, no recent red-flags in his blood work that could account for illness.
The merman had his eyes closed, hands clasped around the O2 mask.
-Panic attack- Ivan used ASL to the nearest camera.
“Looks like it.” Nathaniel’s therapist, Elias, agreed over the comms, “I am just coming through the medical entrance anyway…”
“Just take your time Nathaniel, take some deep breaths…”
“How we doing?” Elias emerged from the medical entrance behind him.
“It’s hard to breathe right.” Nathaniel told him.
“Can you tell me what you were doing before you started having problems breathing?” Elias asked.
“I was drawing.”
“What were you drawing?” Elias tried to draw Nathaniel’s attention away from his panic.
“Lots of cats…”
“Cats are nice… were you thinking nice thoughts about the cats? Or maybe were you thinking about some other things that maybe make you feel less happy?”
“I… it started out as nice thoughts, but then it was kind of” -melancholy- Nathaniel admitted, then his face fell in a realisation, “Oh… Do you think this is just a panic attack?”
“I think it probably is Nathaniel, well identified. Panic attacks do have lots of physical sensations that can make them feel like a physical illness. I think we will just calm ourselves down for a while.”
“But, I was calm when I was drawing,” The sea monster said in a small voice, “I didn’t do anything to deserve getting scared…”
“It’s not about deserving fear Nathaniel. Do you remember that we talked about how sometimes when we are relaxed and feel safe, our brains can start processing some of the traumatic memories that it didn’t feel able to cope with before?”
Nathaniel just sank a little into the water.
“You did the right thing though. You asked Nurse Brunel for help, and now you are doing breathing exercises. I am very proud.”
Nathaniel’s eyes shifted self consciously. 
“Can I just keep this for a little while?” he looked up to Ivan, tapping the oxygen mask with the pad of a finger.
“Sure Nathaniel. If it helps you to feel better.”
≪ °❈° ≫ Vignette 3 ≪ °❈° ≫
“Waking from thiobarbiturates has reduced awareness and increased aggression in mer #3,” Dr Rana’s voice was flat and disapproving. “And an early waking. We are done here though, and I would prefer not to sedate again…”
“I’ll be there in a moment, I will try settle him…” Elias clattered about on the other side of the comms.
Fogal was writhing violently, shouting indecipherable noises of threat and distress. He thrashed, and the oxygen mask he was wearing was knocked askew, clattering to the floor.
Damn. Ivan was going to have to wrangle that back on him. Not only for the respiratory support - the O2 mask doubled as a facial restraint, preventing the aggressive sea monster from biting or spitting. 
“Nurse, get the oxygen mask back on. Guard, restrain his head.”
A guard took a hold of Fogal’s hair in one hand, and steadied his head with the other. Fogal tried to turn his head to bite at his steel-wrapped fingers.
Sorry buddy Ivan thought internally, as the frightened man stared at him with unseeing eyes. He lowered the oxygen mask as carefully as he could. Fogal lunged up suddenly, taking the guard by surprise, and his teeth met the mask with a thunk. Ivan held onto the mask as the merman attacked the plastic, too afraid that if he let go of the mask those teeth would snap around his own fingers that were protected only by thin vinyl gloves. 
Finally the merman disengaged to let out a holler of anger. Ivan took the opportunity to clamp down the mask on his face, smothering the scream. 
“Ssshhshsssshhhssshhh” Ivan hushed softly, holding the mask against his face. 
“Lachego?” Fogal asked him in a devastated tone.
“It’ll be ok Fogal…” Ivan told him.
a/n why did I write 3 things for one prompt? who fuckin knows.
Dlaczego? is Polish for Why? Because I like throwing random languages in.
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
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Day 6 - Doctor becomes Patient
Medic Brunel is attacked by a mermaid, but a familiar face comes to his aid.
Tw bloodloss, medical whump, injury, fainting/unconscious, threat, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee , religious whumpee, post-captivity, caretaker turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, ex reluctant whumper, gun. Um… spitting on dying people
Masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
Set way after Restless far from a Wine Dark sea, and may not be canon 
RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay
Thanks for proofreading Ace :)
≪ °❈° ≫
There were teeth at his neck, ripping, blood spurting from his neck onto his army medic’s uniform.
Ivan Brunel knew this was probably the end for him.
It was almost funny; how many times had he avoided being bitten by his patients at the mer containment facility, just to have his throat ripped out on the street? 
Ivan tried to push the mermaid off him, but the mer venom made him too weak, her grip too strong. The world started to fuzz…
BANG!
At the sound of a gunshot the mermaid released him and he fell to the floor. BANG! He heard her body hit the ground next to his own prone form.
Now he was on the floor bleeding out, the oxygen tank strapped to his back propping him sideways at a strange angle. He managed to bring his hand up to his neck to try and stem the bleeding, but his grip was weak against the blood slicked flesh. Footsteps hurried towards him.
“Oh.” The voice was vaguely familiar. Ivan opened his eyes to see his ex-captive hovering over him, a handgun dangling from his fingers and a haunted expression.“Hello Nurse Brunel.” 
It was Nathaniel Fogal.
Fogal dropped to his knees next to him, put his hands around Ivan’s neck and squeezed.
Ivan closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. It hurt, it hurt like hell, pressure into the gaping wound in his neck...
The hands did not squeeze tighter.
“...Am I doing this right?” Nathaniel asked cautiously, “I know I am meant to put pressure on wounds, but I haven’t done it to someone’s neck before…”
Ivan opened his eyes to look at him.
“...Yes…” he rasped out. Fogal gave him a small smile. 
“I wasn’t expecting to see you…out. On the street-medicine kind of things.” Fogal was awkward, his hands clamped around his ex-nurse’s bleeding neck. Fogal’s blue eyes were staring down at him, the reverse of when they were doctor and patient. The merman sniffed the air.
“You are, you are losing a lot of blood, Brunel…” The merman sounded vaguely disappointed. The world fuzzed around Ivan. “I need to stop the bleeding…”
“I have a… radio. I need you to… call for help.”
“I can’t risk being captured again, I can't,” Nathaniel whispered, “If I leave you, you will die. I don’t want you to die, but I can help you. I can help you.”
The slightest relief that Fogal wasn’t going to leave Ivan to die ricocheted through his tired skull, and he felt himself lurch towards unconsciousness.
No, he couldn’t go to sleep…
“Brunel? I am going to spit on you.” Fogal’s words woke him up.
“Whaaa?” Ivan questioned before his brain caught up with him. The vampiric mercreatures had remained undetected for centuries due to their ability to heal their victims after biting them. Not that the mermaid who had bit him had any intention of leaving him alive given the size of the hole she had ripped in his neck.
“It’ll help.” Fogal worked his mouth for a moment, before leaning in close, taking his hands away from the gaping wound.
Ivan shook gently with fear as the predator’s hot saliva ran into his neck. He screwed his eyes shut and hoped Fogal wouldn’t take it personally. How many times had Ivan held the vulnerable merman through drugged hazes knowing that Fogal feared the doctors around him? The least Ivan could do would be to let Nathaniel care for him in return.
The healing saliva tingled in his skin, knitting veins and capillaries back together.
Nathaniel Fogal leaned back from him, placing his hands back on Ivan’s neck.
“It won’t fix it completely, but it’ll help. She was trying to kill you.”
The world was still foggy and Ivan was getting cold, the tips of his fingers numb.
“I am still going into hypovolemic shock.” He informed the merman.
“I…don’t know what that is…can I… what do you need?” Fogal looked around, “You… there’s a big bag it looks like you dropped. Is there anything in there that’ll help?”
Blood loss treatment.
“Yes.” Ivan breathed, “You need to keep pressure on the wound but… I need oxygen. There is a mask attached to the tank on my back. Take the plastic wrapper off… and…” he tried to catch his breath for a moment while Fogal reached a bloodstained hand over his shoulder to fumble for the mask and tore the plastic off with his teeth. Ivan would usually wince at the unsanitary action, but considering he had just been magically spat-on he could hardly complain.
“I remember these things.” Fogal looked at the mask, “It hooks over your ears, right?”
“Yeah…” Ivan used one hand to clumsily help manoeuvre the elastic around one ear while Nathaniel pulled the loop over the other ear, pulling the mask tight against his face “... there is a knob at the top of the tank. You need to turn it to turn on the gas…” The woosh of O2 was glorious, and Ivan dragged deeply on the mask. 
He was getting really sleepy. The world was swirling, hazed around the edges now the initial adrenalin spike was fading.
“What’s next?” Fogal asked, “I can reach your bag if there is anything useful in it?”
The bag. Gauze to stem the bleeding next? Neck wounds were awful to bandage. Or a saline drip to start replacing the fluid before he went into further hypovolemic shock? It was deeply unlikely Fogal would be able to place an IV. All Ivan’s training, all the hundreds of times he had treated people, and he could barely muster the brain cells to help himself…
“I…hmm… what do I need?”
“Nurse Brunel, please stay awake, I think you are meant to stay awake…” Nathaniel patted Ivan’s cheek, “Do you… do you not have any drugs that would help? You were always injecting me with stuff…”
“Hmmm, epinephrine. We got these neat small-dose epipens. They’re purple. Epinephrine is a vasoconstrictor, and will prevent the patient’s blood pressure from dropping. Especially if most of the wound has closed…”
“Where is it?” Fogal interrupted him, starting to dump medicines out of Ivan’s paramedic bag. Ivan watched him for a moment, “Brunel, where is the epi-pine or whatever its called?
“It's in my pocket.”
Fogal took only a second to give Ivan an exasperated look, before rooting around in his chest pocket.   
“Blood loss has got you fucked up mate… Is it this?” Fogal held up the little purple cylinder.
“Yes. Take off the blue cap, then you are going to have to let go of my neck long enough to shove the orange end into the side of my thigh. Orange to the side of the thigh, and you are going to have to properly stab me with it to get through my medic uniform.”
“Here goes stabbing…” The warmth of Fogal’s hand left Ivan’s neck, and the needle thudded into his thigh. It hurt, but not as much as it would have if Ivan wasn’t in hypovolemic shock.
“Did it work?” Fogal asked.
“Difficult to sa…” The adrenaline zinged into his bloodstream, and he could practically feel his sluggish heart respond. “Yes. Yep, that worked. But now I think… I think that is all you can do, Nathaniel. Will you let me call for help now?” Ivan asked.
Fogal nodded, and helped Ivan’s numb fingers to hold down the button on his radio.
“This is medic Brunel, requesting assistance, I have been bitten and sustained a 32-Charile with major blood loss. Can you…Help. Please.” Ivan trailed off.  
“We hear you Bruel, is the area you are in safe?”
Ivan looked at Nathaniel, “Yeah.” He breathed, “A civilian helped me…”
“Hold tight Brunel, we’ll be there in 2 minutes. Over.”
“I’ll wait another minute. Then I need to go.”
“Thanks,” He could nearly rest and let someone else take care of him. He focused on breathing deeply into the mask.
Above him, Nathaniel was muttering away under his breath, a familiar cadence Ivan had heard him utter a hundred times before. Was he - was he praying for his ex-captor?
A tear slipped from his eyes. Nathaniel wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“I need to leave. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you Nathaniel. For this.”
“Look after yourself Nurse Brunel.” Nathaniel clasped his arm.
“Ivan. You can call me Ivan.”
Nathaniel snorted a tiny laugh.
“Ivan. Shalom.”
And the merman returned to his freedom.
a/n Hope the name switching isn’t too confusing, but I love the importance of names in whump.
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aswallowimprisoned · 4 months
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Restless far from a Wine Dark sea -Alt prompt Needles
Just a routine medical procedure with a very large needle and an unconscious merman.
@medwhumpmay
Tw needles, medical experimentation, Dispassionate whumper doctor, unconsciousness
A bit of the biology of my vampiric mer is explained in this one too
≪ °❈° ≫
“Procedure 269 on subject #3, the mer also known as Fogal." Dr Rana regarded the form lying prone on the gurney before him. "It is May 23rd 2025, procedure is a venom draw from the right venom sack, with entry through the roof of the mouth using a 14 gauge needle. Procedure start... ' Dr Rana checked his watch, "13:32 hours."
 With careful fingers, he took the seamonsters jaw in his hands and pulled downwards. The skin distorted with the gentle pressure, but his face remained locked in its sleeping position.
"As with much of the mer's body, the jaw has locked in sleep and does not move easily. This was not unexpected. 78ccs of orphenadrine to the masseter muscle should relax the mandibles and allow access." He held out his hand, and the nurse placed the prepared syringe to his palm. 
This had been prepared for, the dosages measured. 
He popped the lid from the needle, and took only a moment to swab the cheek of the sleeping merman with antiseptic. Clean and precise. 
The needle slid through skin and muscle, not hitting the bone, but close enough to the joint to have the desired effect. 
He circled the bed, swabbed, injected, rubbed into the skin on the other side. They waited a moment. This time, the jaw swung open under his firm hand, exposing the seamonsters teeth. Two elongated razor sharp canines protruded from a row of mostly-human teeth. But they were not of his direct interest today. 
"The jaw has been opened giving access to the pallet. Inserting chocks against the molars to keep the mouth open..." The nurse passed a block of blue plastic, and he carefully slid it between the sea monster’s molars, wedging the enamel apart. Even if the merman was to wake - which was highly unlikely given what they knew about his deep sleep patterns - he couldn't bite. They had also given him a medium dose of sedative since they were working on the mouth, though not enough to require breathing support. It paid to be prepared for these things. 
“Hold his head."
The nurse moved to the other side of the bed, placing one hand on the forehead and slipping the other around the back of the sea monster’s neck. His Adam's apple stuck out of his bared neck like a fragment of something broken. 
“Head is tilted back by 45 degrees to give access to the pallet." Rana narrated. He bent to examine the roof of the mouth. Unlike in humans, the pallet was made of a layer of cartridge, and that layer was particularly thin in certain areas. The venom sacs were adapted salivary glands, much like a snake's, and lay just below the nasal cavity. It would be an odd angle to work at, but he could manage.
He picked up a syringe from the gleaming tray of utensils, and looped his finger into the handle at the end for the ease of draw. 
"Extraction point is 10mm behind the right canine using a 14 gauge needle. It is anticipated 25ccs of venom can be drawn."
It took some pressure to push the needle through top of Fogal's mouth, but with careful application of force the cartilage gave way, letting the metal enter the nasal cavity and into the venom gland. His fingers moved, dextrous and practised, gently pulling back the plunger on the syringe. 
The venom was urged up the barrel of the syringe to fill the vacuum of the pull. Milky opaque with a hint of purple, the venom was almost pretty. This batch seemed paler in colour than the last - perhaps testing would show a different composition? He wondered for a moment why the change may be, then filed the thought away for later. 
For now he had a task. 
The prescribed 25cc was drawn, a streak of red marring the final millilitres. A potential contaminant. He would have to recalculate the draw volume. 
“The draw went smoothly, 25cc has been taken. Ejecting the needle now…” He pulled the needle from the sea monster’s mouth before his hand could cramp from the strange angle. “The wound is minimal and likely to be healed by the mer's saliva very quickly, so no attempts are made to blot the site, despite the large bore of the needle used. Molar chocks are removed…” He extracted the lumps of plastic deftly, mindful once again of the razor sharp fangs that could easily catch out the less careful.
The merman’s mouth closed. By itself.
That was… a deviation from the norm.
Rana glanced up to the vitals monitor, swiftly evaluating the readings. Heart rate had risen…
“He is regaining some consciousness…”
“I’m coming.” The interrogator, Mr Logan, spoke through the comms.
“He probably won’t have much awareness, and this level of sedation should prevent memories from being formed.” Rana cleared up the chocks and sheathed the venom collecting needle, “And I have weakened his jaw muscles so he may not be able to speak.” 
The merman opened his eyes, blurry eyes blinking fearfully into the light, trying to focus on Rana’s face.
“Tell him you're a doctor and you were just giving him a check up, and tell him no one will harm him.”
The blades of the sea monster’s tail unfurled and he flapped it like a dying fish.
“Fogal. I am giving you a checkup, no one will harm you.” Rana recited in a flat tone. The merman rolled his head towards him, jaw flapping uselessly and drooling on his shoulder.
“Aahhhrmmrmm” He said, predictably completely nonsensical and lacking in awareness of his surroundings. After his eloquent speech, the sea monster planted his face into his shoulder and passed out again. 
“Consciousness lost again at 13:39. Unclear why he woke up, but we will have to keep an eye on his vitals when performing procedures on his face. Procedure 269 on subject #3 ends.”
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - seizure - Part 2 of Panaesthesia at the disco
Part 2 of 2, previous here
Tw seizure drug/medication overdose, captivity, medical whump, injury, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, restraints, dislocated
RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay
No idea where this is meant to be in the timeline. But I like it.
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
Time shifted and dilated as Nathaniel tried to keep a single thought in his head. 
“Six minutes since first dose. Administering dose four.”
It was so much easier to breathe now, Nathaniel didn't even have to think about it. He thought he might even be able to feel his fingers moving beneath the warm blanket. Hopefully they would stop touching him soon. He couldn't see what they were doing and it made him nervous, his put-together heart pushing his blood around his body. Nathaniel shook his head to try banish the anxious thoughts from his head. Get with it, get with it, get with it. He started feeling dizzy again, a halo forming around the lights. His mouth soured like a copper coin.
Abruptly, he was tipped into darkness.
It was fuzzy when he woke up, confused still, blinking open his eyes. Now Brunel was back holding his head, the heat from his fingers stroking against Nathaniel's scalp comfortingly. His shoulder was screaming pain through his numb body. 
“Eyes are open, are you awake Nathaniel?” Brunel’s voice was gentle. Nathaniel hummed a little in response. “You've had a seizure. It was a short one, and was probably due to the… antidote medicine we gave you. You may have bitten your tongue or your cheek if you have blood in your mouth.” His eyes searched Nathaniel for a reaction, “You may also have strained your broken ribs during the seizure. Can you give me a thumbs up if you have pain, sideways thumb if you don’t.”
Nathaniel tried to move his hand to a thumbs up. It must have been good enough, as Brunel nodded.
“Ok, can you remember the pain ratings?”
Nathaniel took a second to marshal his thoughts to a response, trying to mould his fingers into the right number.
“Ok, I can see a 5 on your right hand, but your left is not great. If I were to remove the mask for a moment do you think you could talk?”
Nathaniel nodded. He just wanted morphine and to go back to sleep.
“Ok, I am just removing the mask.” Brunel lifted the mask off, and Nathaniel took a couple of breaths of room air before answering.
“Ssssen” his lips wouldn’t move properly.
“Seven? You can barely think past the pain?” Brunel confirmed. “Pain rating of seven, only slightly delayed response, slurring still but cyanosis in lips seems to be much better.” He went to scoop Nathaniel's face back into the mask, but he turned away.
“Wan’ sssleep ‘lease,” he slurred out.
“We can't let you sleep just yet, sorry, I know you're tired.” Brunel captured his face again. “We just want to check you over first, make sure you're improving and stable.”
“I'm going to check his ribs, see how much damage we are dealing with.” 
A cold rubber clad hand wormed under his lovely warm blanket, gently feeling out his ribs. Nathaniel gasped in pain at the soft touch. 
“His ribs don't feel too bad as the healing fracture wasn't directly under a restraint when he seized. I am surprised it is hurting a 7 despite the barbiturate overdose.” Dr Rana pondered. 
“Hey Nathaniel, can you show us on little Fogal where the pain is coming from?” Nurse Brunel asked him gently. Moments later the plush communication doll was pressed into his good hand. “We can’t let you sit up yet, but can you feel the doll?”
Nathaniel patted his hand about, clumsy with drugs, til he could grab the doll by the shoulder and tried to yank it out of the doctor’s grip.
“Not sure if it is his shoulder or if he just wants the doll.”
“I am just going to move your blanket Fogal…” Brunel’s fingers were on his blanket and Nathaniel whined as his blanket was moved, the warmth sliding away. “...it does look slightly misshapen…”
“Hold his head firmly…” The doctor instructed a guard as he leaned over Nathaniel’s body. A hand on his shoulder, probing. Nathaniel screamed as he felt the bones grate against each other.
“Sorry.” The doctor spoke flatly. “Dislocated shoulder.”
Nathaniel threw his doll at him. It was just a weak flick of the wrist, and the doctor didn’t even comment so Nathaniel wasn’t even sure it hit him. But it felt delightfully silly through the pain. Maybe the benzo overdose had hit the point where the drugs were fun again? Were benzos even a fun drug?
“This is the danger of restraints during a seizure… it might be an idea to loosen the shoulder restraints while he is still a high seizure risk…” The doctor talked over his head, “It doesn’t have to be removed all the way, and he can’t lunge and bite if his head is being held…” The doctor shifted about, doing something out of Nathaniel’s sightline. No matter. Nathaniel splayed his fingers and felt coarse cotton fabric drape across his hand. He tangled it into his grip.
“He’s back to grabbing people...”
Hehe yes he was. 
“... but it still will be advisable to loosen restraints for the next 5 minutes while the Flumazenil does its work. He won’t be able to move his left arm very much anyway…” 
“Copper.” Nathaniel said. The word came out very clear. Nathaniel was proud. It matched the taste that had bloomed in his mouth.
“Copper?” Nurse Brunel questioned.
The world tipped sideways into another seizure.
a/n Seizures can also be prefaced by halos around the lights, sudden mood changes (Nathaniel’s sudden euphoria wave) and a metallic taste.
Fun fact about Nathaniel is he doesn’t have a urinary bladder and is completely incontinent in his mer form. As a water dwelling creature he just doesn’t need one. But seizures (and benzo overdose) often causes people to lose control of their bladder along with the rest of their muscles.
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - prewarmed blanket - Part 1 of Panaesthesia at the disco
Part 1 of 2
Tw drug/medication overdose, captivity, medical whump, injury, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, restraints
RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay
No idea where this is meant to be in the timeline. But I like it.
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
Nurse Brunel woke him. 
“Hey there Nathaniel.” Brunel’s voice was soft, “Your body temperature was just a bit low, so I am  just going to get you a blanket.”
Nathaniel tried to speak, but his lips hung loosely on his face.
His lips twisted down and his eyes pinched.
“It’s ok, it's ok” the nurse repeated, but clearly he could not know the tingling numbness that was climbing up Nathaniel’s arms. He was dimly aware that he was shivering.
“He’s conscious, but blood oxygen is far too low,” Brunel reached out to touch Nathaniel’s hand, but his fingers were curled around fabric and refused his order to unclench, “Cyanosis in the fingers and lips. It looks like a barbiturate overdose,” his speech quickened, “I need assistance, STAT, and an anesthesiologist to check their maths and work out whatever dose of flumazenil is going to stabilise him.” 
There was a clattering from beneath the bed, and Nathaniel’s head pulsed at the noise. Brunel’s hands blocked out the bright light for a moment, and Nathaniel snapped his teeth at them half heartedly, barely opening his mouth. Plastic was pressed around his nose and mouth, and suddenly his dragging breath seemed to amplify. 
He closed his eyes.
“Don’t go to sleep Fogal.” Brunel patted his cheek, “Come on, Fogal. Open your eyes.”
Nathaniel cracked his eyes open. Brunel looked concerned. 
“We'll get you feeling better in a moment. Come on and breath for me. In… and out…”
Nathaniel forced himself to follow along, but he was exhausted. He thought he might be shaking, but he couldn't be sure.
“You- hold his mask on, keep his head tipped back like this…” Brunel’s hands left Nathaniel’s head, only to be replaced by thick gloved hands. He closed his eyes again. “Adrenaline?-” Brunel spoke to someone Nathaniel couldn’t see, “- I have it here, going to go for the left upper arm” Brunel scrabbled for something attached to the bed above his head. “Fogal, there will be a sharp pain in your arm ok? Administering Epipen.”
Nathaniel barely felt the pain, but moments later the world shifted into sharp focus.
Oh Lord, he was dying wasn't he.
His eyes snapped open as he struggled weakly, trying to toss off the oxygen mask, but hands held his head firmly. There was someone all in black looming over him, grey eyes behind goggles. Nathaniel couldn't stop staring into them, pleading for mercy, begging for the feeling to go. Someone was whimpering. Nathaniel couldn't tell if it was him or not.
“Heart rate has increased, adrenaline bought us some time. Adjusting the bed to aid avoidance of hypotension.” Brunel spoke formally, almost brusk, before adding more softly, “Your head’s going to go down, ok?”
It took him a second to realise that he truly was falling backwards. He tried to writhe again, but his body wasn't responding.
“Keep breathing Fogal,” Brunel placed a hand on his shoulder, “In… and out…”
More people burst into the room at that point, a loud voice barking orders. He could almost feel the ghost sensation of people touching him. All he could see was the dark head of the guard looming above him, blurred through drugs and tears.
“...Flumazenil here, administering first dose to IV line...”
“...Body temperature has not risen to the mer standard for consciousness.”. 
“Brunel. Blankets. Get his body temperature up.” 
He was so scared. He was surrounded by strangers, drugged out of his mind and it took everything he had to just to keep breathing.
A blanket was put over him, blessedly preheated, and he could finally feel his skin.
“Fogal,” Brunel was addressing him, looming above him. Nathaniel stared up at him with wide eyes, tears gathering in the corners. “The medicine is going to start working in a minute ok? Anxiety is one of the side effects, but I promise you we are trying to help. I promise we want to make you feel well again.” He looked up to speak to the guard, “and it might make him vomit. Turn his head to the side if he does so he doesn’t choke.”
Then he disappeared back into the throng of senseless voices. Nathaniel watched the spot he left and the world swirled like a ship in a storm.
“2 minutes since flumazenil dose one. Administering dose 2 now.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes and focused on heaving in two large breaths. He tangled his fingers in the warmth of the blanket.
“...Heart rate is improving well. Body temperature rising. Check for bilateral pupillary reflex...”
“Keep your eyes open for me Fogal. I am going to flash a light in your eye…” The smooth tones of Dr Rana. Nathaniel blinked away moisture to look at the doctor. “Keep his O2 mask on firmly. I don't want to be bitten today.”
Bright light flashed into his vision. He screwed his eyes shut.
“Try keep your eyes open please.” The doctor's words were clipped, and Nathaniel reluctantly opened his eyes again, only to be subjected to the bright light again. “Pupils are dilated but even, and pupillary response is slow, but not dangerously so, as is response to verbal prompts.”  
Nathaniel blinked back more tears. He didn't understand what was going on. The guard holding his head shifted his thumb through Nathaniel’s hair. He let out a breathy appreciative trill. 
 Time shifted and dilated as Nathaniel tried to keep a single thought in his head.
Part 2
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Stay with me
Tw captivity, sedation, medical whump, implied very bad medical procedure, guilt, nonhuman whumpee
In all of Logan's career as a negotiator and interrogator, he has never had to convince someone to submit to a vivisection. The experience leaves him feeling uncharacteristically emotional.
RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
Not sure how far into Nathaniel's captivity this is, but long enough that his two interrorgators are starting to feel the emotional strain. I
≪ °❈° ≫
Logan sat down heavily next to Elias, who slid him a black coffee across the table.
“Did they get him under ok?” Elias asked quietly.
“Yes.” Logan accepted the coffee without meeting Elias’ eyes, “Dr Rana says the vivisection will take 6 hours, then he will be groggy for some time afterwards.” Logan sighed into his coffee, “The pain plus the sedatives makes the wakeup a high risk for flashbacks, but alas…”
“We’ll work something out.” Elias’ voice was assured in a way that Logan’s anthropologist brain knew was faked. “ We’ve done it before, and I know we have to do it again…” 
“You will work something out.” Logan cut him off, “I am just the interrogator that orders him to comply. You are the therapist who picks up the fucked up little pieces afterwards.”  Logan allowed the bitterness to well into his voice, the emotion he masked in every interaction; interactions with the military, interactions with the doctors, interactions with the fucking merman he had just convinced to lie still while they prepared to slice into his body and see what he was made of.
“I suppose so.” Elias was quiet for a moment, “We both have our roles here, and neither of them are easy. But it could be so much worse for that merman than it is. And you prevent that, even if he never sees the effort you make.”
“Couldn’t prevent the vivisection.” Logan could feel himself pouting.
“No, I guess we couldn’t.” Elias stared into his own coffee. 
The silence stretched.
“I… I am glad you are actually talking about your frustration though.” Elias gave Logan a lopsided smile, “You do tend to bottle your emotions…”
“Hmmm, what gave my emotional constipation away?” Logan asked dryly.
“I am a very good therapist,” Elias laughed without humour, “It’s what I am here for after all.”
“It is what we are here for.”
“But seriously, Logan, we can talk about this. You aren’t alone here, and we are probably going to be in this project for the long haul.”
“I don’t want to talk,” The spike of frustration that had welled in him was already smoothing into the familiar indifference his job forced him to take. “I don’t want to talk,” he repeated, “But for now, can you just… stay with me?”
Elias gave him the understanding smile of a man who knew the terrors they had both committed.
“Of course.”
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Sedation
Nurse Brunel checks in on a post-sedated vampiric merman to find their captive with significantly fewer inhibitions than normal..
Tw captivity, sedation, medical whump, drugging, injury, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, religious whumpee
RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
set maybe a month or two into Nathaniel Fogal's captivity. This is the first snippet that features Dr Elias Freid, a psychologist/therapist who is Nathaniel's main interrorgator alongside Logan.
≪ °❈° ≫
“This is Nurse Ivan Brunel, Post Sedation check on the merman known as Fogal, mer patient #3.” Ivan went through the familiar recording of medical protocol. “Due to the negative after effects of thiobarbiturates on the wellbeing and mood of the patient, anaesthesia for this set of tests was achieved using Propofol.” He snapped on fresh blue gloves as the pneumatic doors hissed open to reveal the sleeping form of the merman bound to his hospital bed. “It has been 30 minutes since the cessation of anaesthetics and removal of airway support, so patient is expected to be still experiencing significant sedative effects… And our resident mer psychologist Elias Freid is in observation bay to assess behaviours and provide therapeutic guidance if required...”
Ivan gave one last check of the monitor displaying the mermans blood oxygen, before unhooking the oxygen mask from his face and replacing it with nasal cannulas. Within moments, the sea monster’s face crinkled with the start of wakefulness at the smell of a human in the room, and he rolled his head to regard him, blinking sleepily.
“Glad to see you awake Fogal. We put you to sleep for a while, and I know you are probably still pretty sleepy.” Ivan kept his voice soft and calm, a familiar routine for waking patients from their deep sleep. Fogal murmured something unintelligible.
“I am just going to flash a light in your eyes now,” Ivan gently steadied Fogal’s head in his hand as he checked his responses. The merman’s pupils were blown wide, barely reacting to the light shone on them.
“Pupils are dilated and slow to respond to stimuli, but he seems both semi-aware and calm.”
Fogal closed his eyes and pushed his head into the palm of Ivan’s hand, chittering softly.
Ivan stalled for a second, before brushing his fingers though the young man’s hair. No - Fogal was not a young man, he was an ancient bloodsucking sea monster who just looked like a young man. And who, going from the delighted whirring noises, really liked getting skritches.
“Is this ok?” Ivan asked, more to the psychologist on the other side of the 1 way mirror than to the snuggly merman.
“Yes,” Elias’ voice came through Ivan’s earpiece, “Though still be careful with those teeth. Drugged means unpredictable. This behaviour is fascinating to watch. Even if he would not normally engage in such displays of affection with any of the staff here, it does suggest that he may exhibit this behaviour towards loved ones in a less stressful environment.” Elias was contemplative, "I wonder if he would be the same with someone he doesn’t like, say Dr Rana?” He was tapping information into the computer, the keys audible over the comms. “I mean, we know mer live in groups, so he is likely to be… touch starved. I do hope we can allow the captive mer to have social bonds sometime later in the project, but allowing touch when semi-sedated may be a good sign he trusts you to some degree...” 
 “I guess someone really likes Propofol.” Ivan smiled softly, “It is nice to see him calm. Even if that calm comes out a bottle.” Ivan moved to stroke the top of the merman’s head, and he let out another slew of chittering squeaks, drooling effusively.
“Indeed.” Elias hummed, “Do you reckon he is going to remember this next time he wakes up?”
“Vaguely. The levels of sedative in his system shouldn’t be high enough for complete memory loss, even if they have affected his behaviour...” Ivan replied.  
“Ok Fogal,” he raised his voice, and the merman focused his gaze on him, “Do you think you can describe how you are feeling right now, and if you are in pain?”
Fogal frowned comically before slurring out an affirmative noise.
“Ok…” Ivan swiped the merman’s doll out of the box at the end of the bed. The communication doll was one of the first tools Elias had introduced when he had started as the merman’s therapist, “Can you point on the doll where it hurts?”
Fogal groped clumsily at the doll’s arm, where Ivan knew the merman had a comminuted fracture to the ulna , then poked all round the top of the toy’s tail, mirroring the placement of the stab wounds on his body. All areas where he was expected to feel pain, but maybe some pain medication might not go amiss.
“Ok. And do you feel sick? or dizzy?”
A low hum for both assured Ivan that negative side effects of the Propofol seemed minimal. 
 “...And do you feel like you want to hurt anyone or yourself right now?”
Fogal shook the doll’s head. Then he started to stroke the stuffed merman’s hair. Ivan had to stifle a laugh as he ruffled his hair. “Good job answering questions, I just have a few more things to do, you can just doze off if you want.”
“That was good non-verbal communication!” Elias sounded impressed, “Propofol is looking good for the retention of awareness and reduction of anxiety.”
Ivan smiled as he put on his stethoscope and listened to the steady beat of the mermans heart. Fogal didn’t mind the cold metal, concentrating instead on wiping the plush merman doll’s head against his hip, crooning gently at the soft material against his bare skin. Ivan enjoyed the quiet - Fogal didn’t always wake up so calmly, the thiobarbiturates they had been using for anaesthetics triggering what appeared to be quite intense PTSD flashbacks. He peacefully allowed Ivan to use the tympanic membrane temperature probe, check his urine output into the box on the side of the bed, and other post-anaesthetic checks. 
“All done and looking healthy, Fogal. You can go back to sleep now. Can you give me the doll?”
Fogal looked up at him with watery eyes, glancing down to his doll then back up at Ivan.
“P’ease?” the merman asked hopefully.
“Dr Freid? Please advise.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Allow him to keep the doll Nurse.” There was a determined note to Elias' voice. “Unlike the previous situation where he tried to take something, the doll is not a choking hazard and has been requested fairly politely. Though this shall be discussed with Logan as his other handlers, I believe that having a possession will aid in a sense of security, and that the doll has great potential for further use as a communication tool."
Ivan gave the merman's hair one last ruffle. 
"Ok Fogal, you can keep a hold of it. Now let's get you back to sleep, ok?"
--888--
Nathaniel awoke theto the heavy tread of Nurse Brunel. Memories came back in dregs. Dr Rana had put him to sleep, so they must have done something to his body, though there were no new spots of pain...
“Hey Fogal, how are you feeling?”
His hands hadn’t cramped up as much as usual. They were clamped around something soft and thick, far better than the thin sheets he usually balled up in place of seaweed. He creased his brows and held up the item as best he could with his wrist still bound to the bed. 
The stupid rag doll stared back at him.
Nathaniel cocked his head in confusion, and looked up questioningly to his favourite nurse. 
“We sedated you for some tests, do you remember?”
Nathaniel nodded slowly, then wiggled the doll at him questioningly.
“When I went to check on you afterwards, you really wanted to keep a hold of the communication doll there. And Elias thought it may be useful for you to have him with you anyway.”
Nathaniel looked down at the soft little plush merman. His tail was the same pleasant deep red as Nathaniel’s own tail, his sewn-on expression one of peaceful neutrality.
He squished the doll’s head gently. A strange half memory rose of petting the doll's hair, and then of gentle fingers carding through his hair. Nathaniel scowled.
What would his interrogator think of him if he saw Nathaniel wanted to keep a toy?
- I. no. need. stupid. Communication doll. - He signed, trapping the doll under his wrist to form the words. 
“That’s ok too, Fogal.” Nurse Bruel spoke peaceably, “And you can let me know if you change your mind. Can you keep a hold of it while I check your eyes?”
Nathaniel nodded, and Nurse Brunel stepped forwards with a tiny bright light. Nathaniel surreptitiously shuffled Little Fogal under the sheet. He could barely see the little lump the doll made under the covers. He tucked it into the fabric and rested his hand back by his side. 
“Looking good, no post-sedation signs. I can take your oxygen mask off now.” Nurse Brunel took the bulky plastic off his face. Nathaniel wiggled his jaw.
- Thank you - He signed.
“No problem, Fogal. I’ll let you pray now, and Elias will be through for a session once you are done…”The nurse glanced down to Nathaniel's empty hand next to the little doll shaped lump, and the slightest smile appeared on his face. Nathaniel watched him warily, but all the nurse did was give him a swift gentle pat on the wrist before turning to leave the room.
Nathaniel squeezed his new possession once, and settled into prayer.
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - On the brink of Death
Skipping straight to the end of @medwhumpmay prompts to set up for this story. Sorry...
Tw drugging, injury, fainting/unconscious, threat, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee , religious whumpee,
Do not tag as Jewish, but Jewish whumpee is fine 🙂
≪ °❈° ≫
He didn't want to give up, he really didn’t.
He held onto a lamppost for support. The street was quiet after the chaos. No one to see the tears that leaked from his eyes. No one to stop the blood that leaked from his lacerated body, too much, too fast. He cradled his broken arm against himself; the other mer had shattered the bones in his forearm mere moments before he had driven his own blade into her chest.
He had wanted to protect humans. He had wanted to fight for them, fight against this debut of violence other mer had wreaked into an unsuspecting humanity. Nathaniel had loved transforming out of his tail to walk among humans for the night of the full moon, wrapped in a magical anonymity that had lasted two marvellously safe centuries before the breaking of the charm. He had seen so much beauty. He had loved being among people.
But he hadn’t really wanted to die for them.
He fled the scene of the fight as fast as his injuries would let him, out into the sticky warm night. 
Now, he struggled to stand, tilting his face up to the dark sky and full moon, standing in reverence of God one last time. He brought his right hand up to cover his eyes to recite the Jewish prayer he knew would be his last words.
“Sh'ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Ecḥad”
Something small slammed into his shoulder with enough force to make him stumble and fall to his knees.
He steadied himself, slowly twisting into a sitting position. He was glad he had legs. He may have been with a tail for longer than with legs, but he would like to die with legs.
He started to take off his shoes, undoing the laces left then right, and sliding his foot out, right then lef…no, he wiggled his numb toes instead, the movement of the digits requiring too much attention. He looked down at his body, his twisted arm and lacerated legs. It should have been painful, but it wasn’t.
He opened his eyes and found that he had slid to the floor, lying on his back. Everything was fuzzy round the edges, streetlights hazed and muffled shouts in the background inconsequential when compared to the slow puffs of his breath.
He smiled.
Death didn’t hurt this time.
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Emergency Surgery - fuckin oops part 2
This is a 2 parter, see previous here or in masterlist. Got way longer than expected, and still not as much surgery detail as I would like.
snippet for @medwhumpmay
Tw Surgery, big one for drugs, accidental injury, restraints, threat, drugs/medication, medical talk, broken bone, punctured lung, drowning in your own blood except not cos your a merman
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
His captors had re-broken his ribs, taken a photograph of his fucked-up chest with a weird camera thing, and they hadn’t thus far even given him any opium to take the edge off, leaving Nathaniel to take things into his own hands.
Nathaniel was, all in all, having a pretty shitty day.
They  were taking him to yet another room. This one was brightly lit with fluorescent strips that hurt his eyes. He thought he would be excited to leave the room that they had kept him in since they had kept him in since his capture, but the whole place was disorienting and scary, and Nathaniel only really wanted to be put unconscious and allowed to sleep through the whole ordeal.
“Ok, I am going to give you a little bit of a wash with this special soap. I will be very gentle.” His favourite nurse informed him. The water tingled where it touched his skin. Whatever the strange clear gel on him earlier was, it was still numbing his skin, but not enough to erase the sharp pain that echoed with every breath. 
It felt weird his skin was numb on the surface but hurt so much below. Nathaniel tried to distract himself from the fear boiling in the back of his head by watching the nurse. The nurse had got out a small pot with a sponge on a stick and started painting Nathaniel with a thin browny-yellow paste.
- Disgusted - Nathaniel chose the emotion sign closest to what he wanted to say. 
“It’s disgusting? It does look a weird colour doesn’t it? It is very clean though, I promise.” Elias was sitting next to his head.
Nathaniel shifted his weight, and his body flared in protest.
-Hurt. 7.- He told Elias, -Bite?-
“We will give you some morphine very soon. You can’t bite yourself again.” Elias apologised. “You have been very patient and I am very impressed you have stayed still even though there is a lot going on and I know you are in pain. Can I ask, does the venom feel nice? Does it make you calm?
-Yes. Calm. Happy. - He signed, and glanced around to make sure Logan wasn’t watching, “Logan didn’t mean to hurt me.” He whispered. -Logan. Sorry.-
“He didn’t mean to hurt you, no. You aren’t meant to be hurt or tortured here.” Elias confirmed.
“We are going to try him on a small dose of fentanyl, see how he reacts…” a woman in a white coat walked in, “I can monitor his vitals from the anaesthetic station, so we should know if anything starts going wrong, but you and Logan should monitor behaviour.”
The white coat hoisted a tiny bottle up, and drew some liquid into a syringe. Ooh that looked good…
“Heroin?” He asked hopefully.
“Pretty much, Fogal.” Elias sighed.
“Yay.” He said quietly. He felt the drugs hit his blood in a wave of soothing cool. The sound of water rushed into his ears for a beautiful moment, and his mind spun into soft clouds. He hacked up a cough, blood into the oxygen mask, but his worries didn’t seem so pressing anymore.
“Hey Fogal, can you tell me what 2+13 is?”
Nathaniel stared at him for a long moment. 2+10+3.
“Fifteen.” he said eventually.
“Good job.” Elias praised, “He’s gone from a 6b to a 8bc on the Pilish scale.” 
Nathaniel didn’t understand that last bit, so he just ignored it. 
Logan reentered the room then, carrying a bundle of clothing wrapped in plastic.
“The nurse and I are going to get you ready for surgery now, Fogal. We need to put these clothes on you.”
“I got painted.” Nathaniel told him. It was easier to speak out loud with a bit of opium. “I like paint.”
“That’s good Fogal, that means you are half ready. Elias is going to have to leave for a moment now to put on some special clean clothes, ok? I will sit with you until he comes back.”
Logan passed the bundle to the nurse, and they started draping blue sheets over his body. He could barely feel the fabric on his skin.
“That was a lot of opium.” He informed Logan.
“It was - are you still in pain?”
“4.” Nathaniel said, “I know it’s bad but I don’t care.”
“That’s ok, we will look after you, ok Fogal?”
The knowledge that people were not his friends tugged at the corner of his mind, a bottomless well of fear. It lapped at the edge of his soul. He coughed a wad of blood into his mask again.
“Fogal, can you tell me what 5+8 is?”
“No…” Nathaniel replied.
“That’s ok… how about 3 types of fruit?”
“Why?”
“Do you remember when Elias talked to you about grounding methods? This is just a grounding method.”
He probably realised Nathaniel was freaking out.
“Raspberries. Blueberries. Porzeczka.” It was getting very hard to breathe, but Nathaniel tried to drown it out with thoughts of fruit and opium, “Poppies. Apple. Pear…” His breathing was wet.
“I think his gills are about to split again…” Logan didn’t sound alarmed, but put a hand on Nathaniel’s head comfortingly.
The skin of his chest ruptured into gills, preventing him from drowning in his own blood. It hurt like the dull thud of a heavy impact. Crimson splattered onto the blue drapes.
He caught his breath for a few moments.
“Mess.” He stated.
“It’s fine Fogal, mess is fine. We are nearly ready anyway. Nurse is going to put this little hat on you, then we are going to give you a bit more opiate.”
The nurse slid a plastic bag over his hair, and it cracked unpleasantly.
“More opium?” He questioned.
“Yes. It is going to make you very sleepy, and it's ok if you do go to sleep. It is called twilight sedation because everything will be very fuzzy and relaxed, but you aren’t quite asleep. You will be able to feel things still, which might feel strange, but it won’t hurt. The doctor is going to make a small cut in your chest to fix your lung and broken ribs. Do you understand? You will be able to feel the touch, but there won’t be any pain.”
There were going to be hands and metal inside him?
“Banana and orange and blueberries…” Nathnaniel answered instead.
The door hissed open, and a gaggle of people entered. Elias was among them, wearing billowy blue clothes and a hair covering, and made a beeline for Nathaniel. Logan gave up his seat for the other man.
“Hey Fogal.” He spoke gently.
“Your hat is stupid.” Nathaniel told him.
“It is.” Elias agreed, “We are ready to get you fixed up now. Logan is going to leave, but I will stay with you the whole time. We will give you more drugs. Things are about to get real hazy…”
“We are ready. We’ll put this final drape over your head, then we will start…” Dr Rana moved towards him, and Nathaniel’s world was enveloped in blue. He turned his head, and Elias gave him a little wave through the gap in the sheet. 
“Twighlighting mer #3, also known as Fogal at 13:58 with an additional 50cc Fentanyl…”
Everything hazed out into a soup of drugs. There were lights and colours, voices saying his name.
“Hello.” He replied. “Blue cave.”
There were points of pressure inside him, cold metal. It was disturbing. 
Cherries, strawberry, pineapple punch with coconut… Don’t think about the scraping against his ribs, the hollow thunk reverberating into his chest cavity.
He wished he was unconscious.
Opium was coating his brain with soft sludge. Thoughts weren’t working. His breaths wooshed through a mask, shallow but even.
“Sleepy.” He slurred out.
“That’s ok Fogal, you can go to sleep if you want?” Elias suggested.
It was weird feeling something inside him. He couldn’t hear what the doctors were saying beyond the blue sheet over his head.
“Blue cave.” He told Elias.
“Blue cave.” Elias agreed, “Is it nice?”
“Sleepy.”
“That’s ok, you can go to sleep if you are sleepy. We will look after you.”
This time, Nathaniel did.
a/n This is a really long piece for me to write in a day, even if it is not fully polished. I am really proud of myself for almost keeping up with the prompts for this challenge. Please reblog if you enjoyed!
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Masterlist - Restless far from a Wine Dark Sea
Revealed to humankind after the breaking of a memory charm that had kept vampiric Merfolk hidden for the last 200 years, Nathaniel is the first mer in captivity. And while Nathaniel is very glad they think his injuries are too bad to risk torturing him for information, they seem to be able to take information even from his unconscious body
After writing this story on and off for 6 years, mediwhump May has finally given me the push to publish some of Nathaniel's story. I am posting the first 2 chapters for background, then the timelines are getting mixed up for Medwhump mer May
Tw medical whump, drugging, injury, fainting/unconscious, threat, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee , unethical medicine, semi-consensual medicine testing, religious whumpee, grey morality, self loathing, captivity, brainwashing, expectations of torture,interrogation, dehumanisation, death mentions, fawn response to trauma
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Prologue - On the Brink of Death
First chapter
Medwhump may prompts
These are snippets of Restless far from a Wine Dark sea, published wayyy before they should have been. Since publishing I have rearraged them all into their rough plot beats, so you can ignore the day numbers. Each snippet has a enough exposition to make sense as standalones for mediwhump mermay! I have
Post capture actively dying
Day 11 - Passing out
Day 18 - Alt prompt - exhaustion
Day 27 - Pain meds
Day 19 - Blood loss
Post-feeding getting better
Day 21 - Nausea
Day 3 - Hold my Hand
Settling in
Alt Prompt - Broken Bones
Alt prompt - Needles
Day 16 - Coma
Day 17 - Forced to stay awake
Day 23 - Resisting treatment
Day 9 - Alt prompt broken bones fuckin oops
Day 10 - Emergency surgery fuckin oops again
Semi consensual medical experimentation
Day 4 Sedation - Little Fogal
Day 24 - Not breathing
Day 7 - Unresponsive
Day 8 - A Shock
Day 5 - Stay with me
Day 15 - warmed blanket
Day 14 - Seizure
Pool era
Day 29 - discharged from long hospital stay
Day 30 - Mystery Illness
Various
Day 22 - Sirens - Alternative view of prologue
Day 26 - Oxygen mask Vignettes 
Day 6 - Doctor becomes Patient (not necessarily canon post captivity)
Alt prompt - Bedside vigil (not necessarily canon)
Day 12 - stabbed - in the golden age of piracy! (canon pre-RFWDS storyline)
Remember, if you enjoyed please leave a like and a comment, as I am unsure if I want to continue publishing, and will only put the effort in if I know someone is actually reading my stuff ^_^
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aswallowimprisoned · 4 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Day 27 Pain medication
Set within first 3 days of Nathaniel's captivity
Tw dying whumpee, wanting drugs, threat, interrogation, captivity
@medwhumpmay snippet. Just going around the day 18&19 stuff because today is suprisingly not todaying even though it's a great prompt
Masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
They used to give him pain medication when he first came here. It was frustrating: his mind was clouded and fuzzy and made it difficult to know what was safe to say, and what Nathaniel had to keep secret lest it hasten the capture of his mer friends. He had been strung between the symphony of screaming pain that poked like sharp edges through his ability to concentrate, and the soft lining of opiates that dulled the pain and his mind alike. It was endlessly difficult to balance, too easy to fold to the relative softness of his captors, such a relief to end the mental turmoil of interrogations with a rush of drugs. At the end of each questioning session he was allowed to rest, warmth of morphine embracing him into the sweet drop of sleep where he could shed no secrets, save for in the confines of his vivid dreams.
Now, they had stopped giving him pain medication. 
He thought he might be because he was dying.
The barest snatch of opiates sent his brain to mush without even touching the burning bones of pain that cracked under his skin. Morphine left him queasy and with a dull headache that split his skull like a hangover. The exhaustion that was wrapped around every muscle came from blood loss as his body failed to recover from the wounds inflicted days before. Even his interrogator had hinted that the pain medication would hasten his death.
Nathaniel craved it nonetheless.
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aswallowimprisoned · 4 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Day 29 Extended Hospital stay
After 5 months of being restrained in hosptial beds or the obeservation tank, Nathaniel is well enough to be discharged and released into a swimming pool
I wanted to fit some more actual mer feeling into mermay and @medwhumpmay by going for a later point in the narrative than most of this
Tw Captivity, Traumatic apathy, betrayal of self, mental breakdown, medical whump, captivity, religious whumpee, dead dove Jewish vampiric whumpee 
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
Nathaniel blinked awake to an unfamiliar ceiling, high vaulted and white.
He shook the fuzz of sedatives from his head, and listened for the sound of humans nearby.
He was alone.
Wow.
He tilted his head to the right. An expanse of cold water glittered just an arm’s length away.
He had spent 2 months tied to a hospital bed, then a further 3 restrained in an observation tank, allowed to float but never swim. Being out in the open was almost surreal, being able to move for the first time in 5 months, and not having doctors or guards or his strange interrogators hanging over him constantly.
He ponderously raised a hand to touch his face, slowly, just in case the movement angered someone and they were about to swarm back in and he would lose the privilege of being unbound. No one came. He traced the bridge of his nose, the junction between skin and the perspex muzzle they had put on him as a condition for his new freedom of movement. 
But back to the pool. He let out a long breath and slowly rolled onto his side towards it. His back ached a little and he wondered how long he had been lying on the rubberized floor.
Nothing could ruin the sight of the water in front of him.
He reached out with his left hand to touch the water, fingers skimming, feeling the pull of the surface tension, then dipping below the surface. The water felt like religion, gliding through his fingers, cold and smooth. He savoured the moment before lifting his hand out to appreciate the drops on his skin, before dragging his body to the edge of the pool.
He lingered only a second more before slipping in face-first, diving, submerging himself completely.
The water enveloped him. He could finally move.
And move he did.
Joy overtook him as he flicked his tail, stretching, and he jolted forwards, unrestrained, he moved, motions of swimming returning to him in a way he had feared it would never again after so long in the cramped observation tank with its restraints, after being so badly injured before his capture. 
He twisted out of the way of the opposite wall, pivoting with ease despite his speed, and started doing circles, rising and falling through the water as the fancy took him. He twisted almost like dancing, feeling his body respond to the water, fully submerged and completely in the element that bore the mer. 
He ran out of energy faster than he used to, gills rippling to supply his overstretched muscles. He took a moment to catch his breath, grinning after his joyride. He wasn’t surprised; the doctors had put him through physical therapy tests to make sure his muscles hadn’t atrophied before they discharged him, and he could feel the difference even as he flapped his fin ineffectively in the tiny tank. He couldn't be disappointed in this moment. He rubbed the deep ache out of his arms, careful of the bruises left by the IV that had been resident in his inner elbow for the past months.
It was as cold as the deep sea, blessedly so. A part of him wanted to sleep again, wrapped in the sweet chill, but mostly he was excited to just move under his own power again.  He stretched out on the bottom of the pool, fanning his tail fins out as far as they would go. His scales were slightly dulled, and his fins could do with a bit of maintenance to help them fold more comfortably. Lord, this was the first time he was able to actually touch his own tail since his capture.
He hadn’t been able to touch his own body at all in the months since his capture.
The realisation was like stepping off a cliff. 
Fuck, what had he done? Letting them tie him to a bed, letting them sedate him and take him to he knew not where, months under medical observation barely able to move.
The water was very cold around him, colder than the observation tank. The sweet perfect chill reminded him of his ocean home, of the mer he used to live with, all that he had been taken from.
The feeling of loneliness was dizzying, the loss of everything, everything that made Nathaniel a person, with his own hopes and dreams, his autonomy, the ability to touch his own fucking body. He felt like he was on the edge of oblivion, nothingness stretching away beneath him, sickening and overwhelming and utterly terrifying. His sidefins were fully extended ready for flight, and his gills rippled frantically, trying to draw enough oxygen from the water to fuel his racing thoughts. A pain so deep it defied comprehension, impossible to process, swallowing him whole in its attempt to make him see the stark bland clarity of the world around him. 
 Why was he here? why did he let them why why why him why was he here why did he let them why did he let them why why why him why was he here WHY DID HE LET THEM.
Stop.
Unreality blossomed.
No.
No…
It was actually fine. Nathaniel knew that all that data they collected from him was being used to save human lives. After all, being vampiric, mer had to hurt people to live, and that was wrong. At least if the information Nathaniel’s body contained led to the capture of mer were captured they could be fed without having to kill humans. And that was a good thing. 
Nathaniel had a purpose here. He was here because if he wasn’t here he would have to hurt people and he didn't want that. And he did have control - if he genuinely didn’t want to do a test he wouldn’t. They just didn't ask for many tests that he hated enough to be worth giving up the rewards they gave him for cooperation. Rewards like this swimming, or a cup of hot weak tea, or 15 minutes playing those brightly coloured games on an ipad after tests. They valued him.
Here, he could make a difference.
The water was cold around him, his scales smooth under his fingertips, his muscles aching after his burst of movement.
He put all the bad feelings in a little box, and trapped them deep deep down where all his guilt laid to rest.
For now he could just exist, in this larger tank of cold cold water, and pretend the ocean would embrace again after all the things he had done.
a/n Welp both my swimming pool ones have ended up about the trauma realisations you start having when you are finally somewhere that feel safer.
Anyhoo Medwhump May is coming to an end but I do hope to continue posting about this character if there is sufficient interest. Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist? If you have enjoyed these 31 posts, please like and reblog so I can decide if I want to continue.
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aswallowimprisoned · 4 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Resisting treatment
Logan tries to pursuade the sea monster to submit to a blood test. He is not keen on the idea.
@medwhumpmay
Tw Panic attack, needles, non-con medical procedure, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, religious whumpee, coercion
This is set fairly near the begining, when Nathaniel's behaviour has been getting more erratic, swinging between compliance and resistance
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
“Fogal, we have a medical task to introduce you to.” Logan spoke evenly, allowing no cause for panic, “We want to take some blood for a blood test. It will only be a very small amount, a syringe full.”
“A test?” Fogal enquired softly, “But I thought you were… experimenting… last time you gave me blood?” 
“We aren't giving you blood this time.” Logan corrected, “We are taking a very small amount of blood from your arm, and then Dr Orange can do some tests on it to make sure that your blood is healthy.”
The merman paled.
“You want to take my blood?”
“A very small amount. You won’t even notice. I promise we will be careful. It's ok,” Logan soothed. The merman was far more anxious than Logan had been expecting - he was usually very good with needles, associating them with heroin and a release from pain.
“No, I, I, what do you need it for?”
“To make sure you are healthy. I promise this is a very common test…”
“That’s… I don't understand.” Fogal was trying to keep the panic from his voice, “You can't tell if people are healthy from blood. I know because all human blood tastes the same. Except if they have been drinking or on coke. And I promise I have only taken the drugs you have given me.” The merman was begging, “I can't move off this bed, I promise Logan. You don't need my blood, you know everything I promise.”
“Hey, hey, calm down Fogal.” Logan let his surprise leak into his voice, “This doesn't have to be frightening, it's very simple, it is just a small needle, it won't hurt much.” 
“Ok. Ok ok ok ok ok.” Fogal started tapping out a breathing pattern into his tail. Logan let him calm himself, -Pause. Calm. Please. Pause.- he asked.
“I can pause for a moment to let you calm yourself.” Logan allowed. The merman struggled through his breathing exercise, twitching occasionally against his restraints.
“Why?” Fogal finally gritted out.
“Blood contains many chemicals that can tell us about health. We give you opiates frequently, and so we are worried about giving you too much medication that will damage your liver and make you ill. We want you to stay healthy, so we want to check it.” Logan watched the words sink in. The merman continued to writhe in discomfort at the concept.
“I don’t understand why this one is so frightening to you,” Logan socially pressured, “you are usually so good with needles…”
“You want to take my BLOOD,” Fogal ratchetted right back up to borderline hysterical.
“It is a medical test. I myself undergo regular blood tests. It does no harm.”
“You let them take your blood. You.” Fogal whispered, still terrified. 
“Yes. There is no reason not to. It is for my health.”
Fogal shook his head, disbelieving.
“Blood is the soul, the lifeforce of the body. My cursed vampiric diet is proof of that.”
Ah that makes sense.
“I see why you came to that conclusion,” Logan conceded, “And why, because of that belief, you are more worried about this test.” He validated the feelings, “But if, as you say, blood has no use other than to nourish you, surely there is nothing nefarious we can do with your blood, other than the aforementioned medical reasons?”
“I can’t do magic with the blood…” and yet the merman was still near wordless with terror.
“And neither can we.” Logan tried to shut the conversation down, try to bulldoze on to the procedure so the sea monster could see a blood test was genuinely not frightening “Let us show you. Nurse Brunel is just going to put this piece of rubber tightly around your arm…”
The merman burbled with fear as the nurse secured a tourniquet around his upper arm.
“No, no Logan please, don't do this, Logan...” He started to writhe, viciously fighting his bonds, leather creaking.
“This is getting dangerous Logan,” Elias warned over the comms, “I don’t think he is ready…”
Logan acknowledged his co-anthropologist’s input, and dismissed it. If they gave up now, the sea monster would never allow the simple and essential procedure. And if he did try to fight, this would be a learning opportunity as to why resisting his captor’s wishes would always be fruitless. 
“It will only hurt a tiny tiny bit, a little needle, then it's fine.”
Nurse Brunel took up the needle.
“NO!” Fogal gasped. He looked Logan straight in the eye, and started to chant.
“Khri khmimi bdikula bziia”
“I don't know what he is saying.”
 “…aibdur tbluniikhi, prkha zika lmurika khdta…”
“Fogal, stop speaking, stop speaking and calm yourself.” Logan commanded, tone steady, before lowering his voice to speak into the microphone. “Is it a prayer?”
“Not one I recognise.” There was fear in Elias’ voice, “Logan, we should stop him. The merpeople’s magic is song based, and we don't know what he is saying.”
The fear in the room was palpable.
“Gag him,” the military coordinator intervened. Immediately, the merman was restrained from all angles, a rubber strap forced between his teeth as he screamed. “But complete the blood test anyway. We can’t keep letting him get away with bad behaviour.”
The sea monster writhed, and writhed and screamed and writhed. Nurse Brunel’s body language was showing his reluctance and pity, but still he forced the butterfly needle into the writhing merman’s arm.
a/n Nathaniel believes in witchcraft. It is very rare for Jewish people to believe in evil witchcraft nowadays, but Nathaniel is a couple of centuries old and from a time where a belief in witches was more common place, and from a place/time where witchcraft was viewed negatively (many times in history Jews were much more tolerant than Christians of witchcraft when being used for good, and most women kind of dabble in witchcraft cos thats what women do). 
And, he reasons, humans didn’t believe in merpeople till recently, so why couldn’t witches exist? (Witches are the same in the wine dark sea universe as they are in real life, but he is still afraid). 
I found this curse against witchcraft on My Jewish Learning, then anglicised it using google translate, making it equal opportunities indecipherable to anyone, whether you can read Hebrew or not.
But it is an awesome (but graphic):
Hot feces in torn date baskets in your mouth, witches; may your hairs fall out because you use them for witchcraft; your crumbs, which you use for witchcraft, should scatter in the wind;
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Day 3 (rewind) hold my hand
Waking up in a PTSD attack is never fun, but Nurse Johns is here to hold his hand
Tw PTSD flashback attack, broken bones, captivity, medical whump, injury, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, restraints
RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay
Within the first month of captivity, but not too soon.
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
Nurse Johns watched as the merman’s nose crinkled as he started to wake up, his tail fins spreading and stretching out to their full colossal size, and his hands relaxing their vice-like grip on the sheets.
Seeing a sea monster wake up was still a novelty, all the staff poised watching the creature wake.  
But rather than waking with a bleary blink, the seamonster flinched violently against his bonds, heart rate rocketing as he stared at the therapist sitting next to him with wide unseeing eyes of fear.
“Hey Fogel, it's me, Elias. You're waking up, ok?” 
The merman jerked against his restraints again, breath coming in short bursts as he let out an inhuman whine of fear.
“It looks like another PTSD flashback.” Logan, the other anthropologist, spoke through the comms.
“You're ok Fogal, shhhh, no one is hurting you right now, no one is going to hurt you, you are in a bed, covered with a blanket, can you feel the cotton? You're ok shh…” The therapist started crooning soft affirmations to try to bring him out of it. Nurse Johns had seen quite a lot of post-sedation flashbacks, especially being an army nurse. It was always difficult to bring them round. Poor guy.
“He's tearing at his tail wound again.” Johns spoke softly into his comms, not wanting to distract the attention of the scared sea monster.
“See if you can block access to the wounds, prevent damage,” came advice down the comms
Nurse Johns put his hand in the gap.
Fogal’s flailing hand stopped, and his fingers wrapped around the nurse's hand.
Hey, Johns was holding hands with a vampiric seamonster of lore.
Wow.
The grip shifted slightly, and tightened.
And tightened more.
Nurse Johns was abruptly reminded that the sea monster’s grip strength was incredible, and how he would blindly reach for and grab anything, even when asleep.
“He has grabbed my hand and is holding really hard…”
“I will get muscle relaxant…” Dr Orange was beside him and pulling out a tiny bottle.
“Fogel, I really need you to relax, I need you to calm down right now, and let go of what you are holding…” The therapist took on a much harsher tone than normal, trying to use an authoritarian tone to get the dissociated merman to obey.
“Hurry.” Johns gritted out. He could feel the bones in his hand start to strain and he gritted his teeth to keep from screaming, “Doc, hurry.”
The pain was intense.
“Here, here…” Dr Orange was only a moment from injecting the relaxant into the merman’s muscle when a bone in Johns’ hand broke with an audible pop.
He rode out the pain that rose in a wave and tried not to faint on the spot. The grip increased for a moment longer, til finally relaxing, allowing Dr Orange to gently unpeel the sea monster’s fingers from Nurse’s crushed hand.
“Someone help Johns while I sedate Fogal.” Orange commanded.
He managed to stumble into the atrium, before the adrenaline ran out and he fainted into the arms of the other Nurse.
a/n I had wanted to do this since I first saw the prompt, but wanted to establish the characters first.
Shout out to my mam, who waited a whole 30 seconds after breaking her ankle to faint
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Stabbed - in 1713!
My merfolk are semi-immortal creatures, and Nathaniel is old enough to have been stabbed a couple of times at this point.
A night out with his pirate captain has gone awry, and Nathaniel finds himself a little more stabbed than is ideal. This one follows the last time the merman started drowning in his own blood (as alluded to in Fuckin oops).
For @medwhumpmay
Tw Punctured lung, old fashioned surgery, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, cauterisation, alcohol, almost NSFW Spicey flirting, vampires, serious injury, fantasy drugs
This is not historically accurate
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
Kim was surprised the captain and her merman had managed to make it back to the ship.
Leaning heavily on each other, it took a while for Kim to even recognise them. He and the first mate had swooped down to help them on board as soon as they had recognised the bloody figures. They had carried the Captain up into her quarters. The merman had required a significant amount of coaxing, which was resonable considering the last time he had been on the ship it was as their captive.  
As soon as he was on the ship, the merman wanted off it. And it turned out he had a knife sticking right out of his rib cage. 
“Stay away from me” Nathaniel murmured. His lips were stained red.
“Mate, if you pull that knife out of your chest without a backup plan you are going to bleed out pretty fast,” Kim took another step towards the merman, “You can barely undo your shoe laces.”
“Last time I was here you trapped me in a bathtub to sell me on the medicine market.”
“But you managed to escape, and now you are fucking the cap. Didn’t turn out too bad, right?” Kim reasoned with his usual flippancy, “Now, I just want to help you to not die a bloody mess on our deck.”
“Stretcher” the First Mate announced her presence, “ And the captain is going to be fine; she has a broken arm and is sleeping off the vampire bite. Apparently vampire venom is much more unpleasant than mer venom.”
“Hear that Nathaniel? The captain is all sorted out, and she will be very upset if you die before she wakes up…” Kim started moving closer to the merman.
“Careful kim. Injured wild animals and all.” The First Mate muttered.
“It’s ok Nathaniel,” Kim kept his voice soothing and steady, “You are the captain's man. We wouldn’t hurt you.”
Kim inched closer, before reaching out to grab the lapels of Nathaniel’s overcoat and half lifting the man off the bannister. Nathaniel gave a weak kick in response, but whether it was an attempt to help or hinder his passage to the stretcher was unclear.
Now he was lying down, Kim could hear just how laboured the merman’s breathing was. Nathaniel turned his head to cough again, and red splattered the canvas of the stretcher.
“We will take you to Doctor Max, and he will fix you up good as new.” Kim reassured, though he doubted the merman would last much longer, “Just stay with us a wee while.”
They carried him into the bowels of the ship, and Nathaniel closed his eyes as the sky was replaced with wooden panelling.
“Not…again…” 
-8888-
Max took one look at the blade in the merman's chest before starting to give orders.
“Kim, keep pressure on that stab wound, like that…” Max positioned Kim's hands with swift precision, “Sabrina, fire up the brazier.”
The merman stared sightlessly at the ceiling, blinking slowly as the pirates moved around him. Max took out his knives and bandages, placing them on the low table by Nathaniel’s head.
“How's that fire going Sabrina?” Max asked.
“Nearly there.” The First Mate pumped the bellows, and sparks flew brightly.
“Just get the dagger out of me. Please.” Nathaniel rasped.
“Not yet.” Max laid an apologetic hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder, “I can’t just pull it out. The blade is too deep, so I have to cauterise the wound or you will just keep bleeding.”
“Cauterise?”
“Burning the flesh to prevent bleeding.”
“Przyżegać.” Nathaniel breathed apprehensively, “O kurwa.”
Max grabbed a bottle of rum from the cupboard above his bed
“Drink this,” he held the bottle to the mermans lips, “it will help with the pain.”
He tipped some of the liquid into Nathaniel’s mouth, but the merman choked, the mouthful of fluid coming back up laced with red. 
“Try again?” he asked, and the merman nodded slightly. He managed five gulps before refusing the bottle.
“Kim, check the brazier.” Kim carefully took his hands away from Nathaniel's chest, and they came away slathered in crimson blood. Max took his place, properly examining the stab for the first time. Taking scissors, he cut away the shirt around the wound, and Nathaniel hissed in pain. The material of his shirt had got caught in the cut, which had fortunately stemmed much of the blood flow, but had also masked the extent of the injury. Max put his head to the mermans chest, and could hear the tell-tale gurgle of internal bleeding upon every breath the merman took. 
Max put a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder, and the merman tilted his face to look at him.
“You're not looking too good I am afraid,” His tone was solemn, “Now, I can take the blade out and try to cauterise the wound but your lung will most likely collapse, and it is going to be incredibly painful.” He took a deep breath, “Alternatively, I can give you last rites and more rum to dull the pain. We can also return your body to the sea if that is what you want.”
“Try,” Nathaniel’s voice was a rasp, “Please.”
 “Understood.”
Nathaniel stuck his wrist in his mouth, his face clearinging somewhat as he dulled the pain with his own venom.
“Ok, nearly ready.” Max gave the poker a last turn, “Sabrina, I need you to sit on his legs and put your full weight onto his hips to keep him from moving. Kim, you at his shoulders. I have a feeling he is going to be stronger than he looks.”
Kim held out the bite rag, but the merman turned his face away.
“You are going to want this mate. Keep you from damaging your vocal cords.”
Nathaniel’s breath hitched, and he coughed out a wad of blood.
“Sh'ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Ecḥad” He whispered, then opened his mouth to accept the rag, carefully tucking it behind his fangs. Max’s eyebrow raised in surprise at the recitation of the Jewish prayer. 
Kim took a hold of his shoulders, effectively pinning the merman to the table, and Nathaniel’s breathing became erratic with anxiety as he was trapped beneath the weight of the two pirates. 
“Ready?”
Max pulled the knife out with a single movement, and Nathaniel tried to buck, screaming into the gag. Max worked swiftly, pulling the remainder of the mermans shirt out of the wound and dousing it in cheap rum.
With a sickening gurgle, Nathaniel passed out.
“Check his pulse Kim” Max ordered, focusing on cleaning the wound.
“He’s just unconscious, but, Max… he’s got gills.”
Max glanced over, and the merman had indeed sprouted gills on his right side. 
“Shit. His lung has collapsed” Max grabbed a thin metal tube from his small table, “Sabrina get off and drag him to the edge of the table. Kim, take the bite rag out to clear his airways.” Kim carefully extracted the blood splattered rag from Nathaniel’s slack lips, and the man coughed again, slowly drowning as his lungs filled with blood.
Max slammed the metal tube into his side, and blood spewed from the end, splattering onto the floor. It quickly reduced to only dribbles, and Nathaniel’s gills retracted as his lung reinflated. Max breathed a sigh of relief.
“Cool.” Kim breathed.
“Still need to cauterise the wound. Glad he has passed out cos this is going to hurt like a bitch...” 
8888
Nathaniel did not come round again until the final bandage had been wrapped around his midriff and Max had moved onto sewing up the ripped vampire bite on his shoulder. How the merman and the captain had got home Max had no idea.
The merman groaned as his eyes fluttered open.
“You’re still alive merbeast.”
Nathaniel flexed his fingers, before looking up to the ceiling and muttering a quick prayer, while Max finished his stitching and tied a quick knot.
“Can I have some more rum please?” Nathaniel asked, his voice husky. Max poured a mug of water, then added a shot of rum.
“Here.” Max propped him up a bit, and passed him the mug, “Grog. Water is important.” 
Nathaniel drank deeply, then rested the mug on his chest. 
“Where’s the captain?” 
“Kim took her to her quarters. She is just sleeping off the vampire bite.” Max resumed his checking over of the merman’s body. “Apparently it is not as much fun as mer venom. She was quite disappointed.” He gently probed Nathaniel’s wrist, “Why are you turning purple?”
Nathaniel looked down wearily.
“Too much blood loss. I need to go.” He tried to sit up, but his eyes went distant for a moment and he dropped back to the table.
“You are in no fit state to go anywhere. Take a nap, and we will sling you back in the sea as soon as you can sit up without passing out.”
Nathaniel panted for a few moments before replying.
“I need to… replace the blood… that I lost… so…” He took a deep breath and tried to still his shaking hands, “I need to go.” 
“Ok.” Max’s tone was considering, “Ok. Can I like, put some in a cup and give it to you? Or use a leech? Do you think you can wait till morning when the captain wakes up?”
“No, and no.” He was slurring a bit. The purple had advanced up to his elbow and was snaking across his torso. “And I need to go soon, because this is happening really fast.” There was a slight hiccup in his voice. Max had seen many men afraid to die. It seemed that centuries old sea monsters were no different in that regard.
The door to Max’s room opened quietly, and Kim popped his head round.
“Captain is settled. Sabriana’s keeping an eye on her,” He sidled into the room, “Good to see you awake already merbeast. I thought you were a goner there.”
Nathaniel screwed his eyes shut.
“Kim. Just in time.” Max wiped his bloody hands on a damp rag, “I was just about to give Nathaniel some blood, and would really like someone to make sure I don’t pass out.”
“What?! No! you can't do that Max!” Kim protested.
“Yeah, well,” Max cut him off, “He is going to die if I don’t, and I think I did a pretty good job stitching his lungs back into him, so it seems a shame for something small like starvation to kill him.” He threw the rag down, “Besides, he is good friends with the captain, and never killed her right?”
“Still no! You have got to look after the captain and him, and you can't do that when you are high as shit on mer venom.” Kim held his hand over his heart as if hurt, “And you know that getting high as shit on stupid things is my forte.” He gave Max a shit-eating grin, “Just tell me what to do.”
Max looked down at the sea monster on the table. He’d gone kind of floppy, and his expression was glazed over.
“Fine. But tell me what it feels like cos I want to record it.”
“Hey.” Max patted the merman’s cheek, “Wake up. You can bite Kim. What do we do?”
“Wrist, please.” Nathaniel rasped. Max manoeuvred Kim so that his wrist would be comfortably angled. 
“Ok. If Kim faints, I am calling this off though.”
“I understand. Venom is strong. Look out.” 
“Aww yiss.” Kim grinned like a teenage idiot, “I can handle strong merbeast. Bite away.” He pressed his wrist to Nathaniel’s mouth. The seamonster bit him.
“Ow.” Kim scowled, then his face brightened, “Actually, that feels pretty nice actually…really nice.” Kim sighed, “Kinda tingly, like being drunk, but only really fast, and everything is all warm and nice and mmmmm…” he trailed off to close his eyes with a dopey smile. 
“Sounds like it hit pretty fast.”
“You have no idea Maxie,” Kim hummed happily to himself, and Max watched him carefully. He wasn’t swaying, but the venom was clearly a euphoric… The sea monster's Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and Max wondered how fast the blood was actually being drained. He could hear a soft sucking noise, and the breath, stronger now, rushing against Kim’s skin. He shivered.
Kim however, was oblivious to the creepiness, and seemed to be quite enjoying himself.
“You still feeling alright Kim? No dizziness of feeling sick?”
“No sick, just yummy yummy dizziness” Kim grinned, “like all the best narchotics or whatever it is you educated people call them,” He looked down at the seamonster, “I can see why the captain likes fucking him. I would pay to be in his mouth too…”
Max’s eyes flew wide open, and he glanced down to see the mermans reaction. There was none. Not that Max should really be worried about homophobic judgement from a literally inhuman monster. 
“Kim, don’t say that.” He grimaced. 
“Sorry sweeeety” Kim gave a flirtatious grin, “You are still my beau.” He leaned forward and planted a sloppy kiss on the corner of Max’s mouth. 
Nathaniel finally moved, eyes opening to glowing cerulean slits as he unhooked his teeth from Kim’s wrist.
“Thank you.” He murmured, and his head lolled sideways as he fell asleep.
“Thank YOU mate. That was awesome, "Kim slurred. 
Max pulled him away from the merman, manoeuvring him onto the bed behind them. 
“Sit” he ordered.
“Mmm doctor roleplay. My favourite.”
Max ignored him, pulling his arm up to the light. The bite marks were gone, the slightest smear of red the only sign that he had ever been bitten. That healing saliva was something else. He placed his fingers over Kim’s wrist, checking his pulse. Normal. Normal that is till Kim wound his other hand round to grab Max’s ass. Then it jumped right up.
“Anything else you want to examine, doctor” He drawled.
Max pushed him away lightly.
“I forgot that excessive hornyness is a side effect of mer venom” Max stepped back, 
“Maybe saving the life of a sea monster is just the thing that really gets me going.” Kim grinned. Max shook his head ruefully, and took off his blood spattered apron. Behind him he heard the clank of Kim undoing his belt. 
“You should record that that venom is making it very uncomfortable to keep these trousers on. I think your patient should take his pants off.”
Max lifted Nathaniel's wrist, checking his pulse to make very sure the merman was asleep. Sure enough, it was slow, but stronger than before, and lilac had ceased its crawl across his torso. But most importantly, not about to wake up any time soon. He downed a swig of rum.
“Uncomfortable you say? Well, as the ship's doctor, I will have to see what I can do about that…”
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aswallowimprisoned · 5 months
Text
Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Passing out
Tw fainting, blood loss, dying, captivity, medical whump, injury, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, interrorgation
RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay
This one is quite close to the start of Nathaniel's captivity, while he is activly dying of bloodloss, and there are no mer blood donors.
masterlist
≪ °❈° ≫
“I… Mr Logan… I think…” The sea monster's eyes rolled back and his head dropped to his pillow.
“Nurse!?” Logan lurched to his feet, adrenalin hitting as Fogal started to shake.
“Here.” The nurse swept to the merman’s side, “Administering oxygen mask.'' The mask was swiftly retrieved from below the bed. “Eyes are open but blinking is not rhythmic. Most likely a syncope with tremors.”
Logan watched from the sidelines as medical jargon was thrown around. He felt uncharacteristically out of control. 
“I am adjusting the bed to encourage blood flow to the head.” Dr Rana's voice came through the intercom, and the head of the bed glided to flat while his tail was hoisted upwards. “It is most likely just linked with the pre-capture bloodloss, but we’ll be careful.”
After a few moments, the shaking stopped, and Fogal’s eyes closed fully. The oxygen mask amplified the drag of steady breathing.
“Tremors have stopped, breathing is good, blood oxygen and heart rate is returning to normal.”
The merman shifted, breath hitching and eyes fluttering open. He glanced around blearily for a moment before trying to sit up. The nurse kept the oxygen mask tight against his face, the gentle but unrelenting pressure holding him down.
“Hey Fogal, you fainted while talking to Logan.” The nurse spoke loudly and clearly. “ You need to stay lying flat for a moment, ok? We'll get you upright as soon as we can. Also, the mask on your face is to help with breathing. Alright?” 
Fogal scowled, but didn’t try to sit again.
“Alright.” The nurse gave a reassuring little smile, “Can you focus on my finger?” He held the mask against the mermans face with one hand, and moved the other to within Fogal’s sight line. He slowly moved the finger back and forth, “Excellent. Good tracking and no delay.” The nurse kept his voice light and friendly. “Ok, next I am just going to touch your hand, alright?”
The seamonster blinked a couple of times, but showed no resistance to the touch, and there was nothing in his posture that warned Logan of impending violence. The nurse reached out slowly and touched the back of his hand. “Can you feel that?” 
Fogal hummed an affirmative.
“You can speak through the mask,” The nurse informed gently, glancing over to Logan for the first time, flicking his gaze between the interrogator and doctors behind  the 1-way mirror.
“Nurse, establish precursors to fainting.”
 “Do you remember if you felt light headed or dizzy before you fainted.”
“It was quick.” The mask bobbed on Fogal’s face.  
“Did you have any sudden pains?” 
The merman shook his head slightly, before twisting his body to try and get Logan in his sight line.
“Any nausea? Feeling sick?” 
“A little. But that might be an opium hangover.”
They had already had to reduce the amount of morphine the merman was on just to allow him to stay awake for interrogations while the effects of blood loss slowly took his body.
“Do you feel breathless?”
The merman grimaced, “Yes.”
“Your body temperature has dropped, can I get you a blanket?”
“Mmm.” Fogal hummed, closing his eyes. The nurse gave Logan a grave face as he turned to collect a blanket.
“I want to keep the oxygen on for now, and monitor him. Faint was most likely due to blood loss.” Dr Rana's voice came tinnily through Logan's earpiece. Logan watched the merman. “The nausea may be from blood loss putting strain on his internal organs. It is a pity, but not unexpected given the circumstances. You can tell him what you think is necessary.”
Logan nodded, expression tight. Fogal wasn’t looking at him, so he could let his body language speak to the doctors watching. It would indeed be such a shame to lose a relatively cooperative mer like Fogal to a condition that could be so easily remedied in humans.
Fogal should rest.
Logan moved his chair so he could sit within the sea monster’s sightline.
“Given the circumstance, I will cut this session a little shorter than planned, Fogal,” Logan spoke calmly as the merman regarded him exhaustedly, “Just 5 or so more questions, and I will try to keep them brief…”
He couldn’t afford to let the sea monster rest when its fellows were still threatening human life.
a/n In my experience, people who have fainted do move around quite a lot when they are uncontious. And no, I am not having an epileptic fit or possessed, the tremors will stop once the blood can get to my head.
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