violent medic

So I had this Ethics class today, with a Professor of Philosophy. I thought I liked him, he seemed to be sharing a lot of my ideas, he makes you think and talk and his classes are dynamic, until today. He introduced the topic of moral consciousness, and then he started saying mentally ill people don’t have moral consciousness, and his example was schizophrenics that “kill people” without regreting it afterwards. Then I couldn’t stay silent and I had to voice my opinion. I said schizophrenics do have a moral consciousness, that they might be blinded by their symptoms, but that they can be also aware of their symptoms and that they’re not inherently violent, and when medicated they can have a normal life.Then he said he never meant to say that they were violent, although he tried to give a bullshit kind of explanation about what schizophrenia was, that it meant having different selves (which that’s more like dissociative identity disorder). A classmate said “How about John Nash?” He was schizophrenic and he won the Nobel Prize, and although the professor had seen the movie, he didn’t realize he had schizophrenia. Then I shut up because I didn’t want everyone in that class to know I’m actually schizophrenic.

What irritates me the most is that these ableist people think mentally ill people are so far from their reach, like there’s no way a mentally ill person could be studying at higher education, that mentally ill people are isolated and can’t be in such a common place like a classroom or at work, or that we can be your friend or neighbor, that neurotypicals think the only place they can find mentally ill people is either at hospitals or in jail. But no, whether you like it or not, we are everywhere and we look just like you…

anonymous asked:

Your blog is ableist and violent, people reblog jecause they want to get their rocks off and its disgusting that there are people hosting inages of things like ill ppl and jews getting shot to death. I hope u and ur followers are ashamed

I find your assertion that any interest in a subject is inherently sexual very bizarre, and I would suggest looking at yourself to find why you associate violent and medical imagery with people ‘getting their rocks off’, or - as I’ve suggested to someone before - stop reading so much Freud, not everything has to do with sex.

Also, discussing psychopathology and pathophysiology is not ableist, otherwise all medical doctors would be facing all sorts of discrimination lawsuits.

If this blog is that upsetting I suggest that you stop reading it, also avoid reading books about history and science, or peer reviewed academic papers in the fields of history, medicine, biology, pathology, psychology, forensic science etc. and basically ignore any bad thing that could ever happen. But let those of us who want to understand these topics - typically in an effort to help those affected - educate ourselves on what we find important.

Simple Things

Anon Requested:  Hi! :) i’m not too late for the drabble, right? 29, 37 with Jeon Jungkook, please!! Thank you so much <3

Thank you so much for requesting Kookie because I love making Kookie drabbles so much ♥

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 702

“Are you crying?”

“Open the door before I break it down.”

You gripped on so tightly despite the fact that your palms where sore and burned. A tear rolled onto your cheek, but you didn’t care you had to stay focused but after a lifetime of being oblivious and all the torture you had gone through, you finally let go. Realizing that he didn’t care and so you stood up and walked away from him - that stupid rope of hope and everything he had done to hurt you. 

This heartbreak feels cold. It feels like concrete drying in your chest. This heartbreak was unexpected, as they always are - top of the world one minute and cut down the next. Tears falling down your face as you were collapsed on the floor in front of your bedroom door. Your apartment was quiet apart from the echoes of your cries. Your lungs and chest felt heavy as your eyes were red and felt raw from all the tears that had spilled from them. 

It’s crazy. To come so close to pure love and loose it so violently is something no medication can heal. Your heart is broken, what beats in your chest is merely a mass of sad muscle. The tears continue to fall, hand clutching the fabric over your chest. At this point you didn’t care if the neighbors heard your loud cries, you didn’t care about anything at this point. Your ears were flooded with your own thoughts and weeping. 

“(Y/N)?” Your body jolted at the sound of something other than your own voice. Your heartbeat was erratic at first and slowly calmed down realizing who’s voice it was. 

“I’m fine.” You croaked out, voice not strong enough for talking. Tears continued to roll down your cheeks, body still planted on the ground.

“Can I come in?” Jungkook’s voice asked from the other side of the door, you could hear the doorknob turn but to no avail it didn’t open. “Why is your door locked? You never lock it.”

“I said I’m fine, you can go.” You try to speak as best as you could, raising your voice but it only comes out in a mutter.

“Are you crying?” Jungkook’s voice was louder and more alert, the doorknob turned back and forth even though it was evident it was locked. “What’s wrong (Y/N), talk to me.”

That’s all it took to break your remaining wall down. It was more than crying, it was the kind of abandoned sobbing that comes from a person drained of everything. 

Jungkook faces the door, his face creased and his fists closed so tight he can feel them slightly tremble. He hears a sound that almost stops his heart. From the other side of the door is a sobbing sound, he knew who it was; he was in your house after all. He figured what had only been the reason of your tears, the ones that slipped in between fingers as you tried to cover your face and muffle out the sounds from Jungkook.

“(Y/N) just let me in.” Jungkook’s hand gripped the doorknob once again. All you could do was squeak out a simple no. Panic and frustration filled up in Jungkook’s body, the grip only tightening before his voice lowered and got more definitive. “(Y/N), Open the door before I break-”


The door slowly opened revealing the broken down girl who hid behind the door moments before. The pain that flowed from you was intense, it scared Jungkook to see just how badly broken you had become. He didn’t have to wait another moment to rush to your side instantly shushing you and trying to quiet down your sobs.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now, I’m here.” 

His arms were warm around you, you molded into him with ease, head burying itself into his chest while your tears sunk into his shirt. A muffled thank you escaped your lips; thankful for someone like Jungkook. He just squeezed you tighter, allowing you to calm down in his arms. He lowered his head and gently placed his lips on the top of your head, giving it a simple kiss.

But he didn’t understand that it was the simple things that meant the most to you.

Welcome Home - RebelCaptain

Cassian wakes up after Scarif, and the only thing that matters is that Jyn did, too. 

Hey guys! I saw Rogue One about a week ago and I’m already in love with these two. Reblog with what you think!


The last thing Cassian remembers is light. Bright, blinding. Almost painful, but not quite. The air intense and warm, Jyn’s arms tight around him, her face buried in his neck. He’d closed his eyes against the glare, pressed his lips against her forehead, tried not to think about his sisters, his mother, all the friends they watched fall.

He held Jyn as tightly as could, and the last thought he recalled was of her. I could have loved you. He could feel her breath stir the hairs above his ear, and then suddenly, he wasn’t feeling anything anymore.  I could have loved you, given time.  


The next thought is pain.

Every single inch of him is on fire, his body resisting air, aid, existence itself. He can hear a manic beeping, people shouting, boots on stone floors, and a desperate voice screaming for mercy. As the wild, spinning lights fade, he thinks it might be his own.

The next time his consciousness resurfaces, it’s much less violent. Someone – a medic, a droid, he doesn’t remember – covered him in a cooling serum, and there’s a dull throb in his elbow that tells him an IV is pumping something to rehydrate him into his veins. His eyes are reluctant to open, and take more than a moment to refocus on the scene around him. They’ve got him in a private room in the medbay – which makes sense, given the seriousness of his injuries – but that thought barely registers before he realizes that his arms are empty, and Jyn is nowhere to be found. 

Keep reading

So Long and Goodnight (Percy Jackson x Reader)

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Genre: Angst, Romance

Word Count: 1,015

Summary: The Battle of Manhattan is drawing near and Percy just wants you to be safe, but what about him?




You stumbled into the Empire State Building otherwise known as “home base”. The Battle of Manhattan had only just begun and yet many campers were already injured too many, in fact. Their numbers were dropping drastically. “Maybe we can’t do this” you thought hopelessly. You had small scratches all over your arms and were covered in dirt and sweat. Your weapon was hung loosely in your hand as you walked past all of the hurt campers. You saw familiar faces everywhere. Some half-siblings, some friends, maybe even some foes. There were no foes anymore. They were a united front, united against that monster hiding behind mask of deceit and betrayal. You needed to find Percy. To strategize, to discuss, to know that he’s still alive. You raised your head up above the sea of heads around you. Somehow, you managed to see a mop of raven black hair.

“Percy” you whispered to yourself before you ran over to him.

He turned towards you as you were approaching him. “Y/N” he said and hugged you to him close when you landed in his arms. “Are you hurt? Do you need help?” he asked, panicked.

“I’m fine. How about you?” You checked his face for any sign of injury.

“I’m ok. I need to talk to you about something. Follow me” he said so low only you could hear. He removed his hands from your waist and grabbed your hand. He led you to a secluded room that held some provisions such as spare bandages and water.

“What’s wrong?” You questioned. Percy has taken both your hands now and were looking down at them.

“I can’t let you do this” His sea green eyes met your (e/c) ones. You held each other’s gaze for a while.

“What do you mean?” Can’t let you do what?

“Fight. Y/N if you get hurt and I’m not there to help you…,” his eyes began to water, “I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

“Percy don’t be crazy! I could never leave you and you need me in the fight” your cheeks felt wet.

He brought your hands to his chest. “Can you honestly look me in the eyes and say you won’t get hurt? That nothing will happen to you?” he looked so desperate. You knew you couldn’t say it. Nothing was guaranteed. Not your life or Percy’s or anyone’s. You swallowed hard.

“You can’t. We both know it. Please don’t fight Y/N! I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you,” he pleaded, “stay and heal the wounded. At least I’ll know you’re safe.”

“What about you? How can I stay here knowing you’re risking your life!” you protested.

He pulled you close and kissed you softly. His lips were slightly chapped but it was filled with love none the less. He pulled away slowly.

“I won’t let it happen. As long as I know you’re waiting for me, they can’t keep me from you” he whispered. His forehead was resting against yours and his breath ghosted over your face.

“Ok,” you agreed reluctantly, “but I better see you again Seaweed Brain.”

“Deal” He smiled and pulled you in for another kiss. You tried to savor the moment with his mouth on yours, knowing it was going to be the last peaceful moment for quite some time. You two parted and shared a few more words. Not many, only three each.

I love you


You wiped the sweat off your brow as you finished bandaging up a nasty gash on the side. The patient seemed to be doing well after being fed some ambrosia. You were about to move on to the next when the whole building shook violently. Medical supplies flew off the shelves and the standing campers fell to their knees. Outside the window you could see bright rays of light shine through from above. Soon everything had settled and it was eerily quiet. Nobody dare to move a muscle. This has to do with Kronos. I should have stayed to fight.

You could hear a faint clip-clop steadily grow louder as a figure approached. Grover was standing at the front of the room. All eyes were on him and seemed like everyone was holding their breath in anticipation.

“Kronos has been vanquished!” he yelled. The floor cheered so loud they probably lost their voices. You were ecstatic but where was Percy?

You walked over to Grover who was smiling with his mouth but not his eyes. As if he were somewhere distant on the inside. Annabeth had come down a minute ago and was with Grover when you walked up to the pair.

“Hey Y/N! It’s finally over, huh?” Annabeth sighed. Grover looked nervous.

“Yeah! Um, where’s Percy?” you questioned, smiling. The grin dropped from Annabeth’s face and Grover wasn’t able to look at you.

“He, uh,” Annabeth started, “he didn’t make it.”

You felt broken. Your whole word was crumbling down and you were about to get caved in. Your face went blank and you felt tears welling up into your eyes.

“He stayed back to fend off the monsters while Annabeth handled Luke,” Grover choked out, “I’m sorry Y/N.”

You stayed still. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t feel. Your arms hung lazily at your sides as tears rolled down your face on after the other. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. Annabeth hugged you but you kept your arms to your sides.

“Thank you for telling me” you said almost inaudibly but I you think they got the message. You slowly trudged away into a corner. You sat down against the wall and stared at a single white tile. You felt empty, a shell of who you used to be.

He said he would come back.

He said he wouldn’t let them take him.

Now you were haunted by his memory and how you will never see that messy black hair or those gorgeous sea green eyes or his contagious smile. You had one finally thought before you let the darkness of sleep take you.

It’s all my fault.


Superstitions often shared among the clones:

  • Giving your medic gifts and “prayers” (little bits written on literally anything) before battle will greatly decrease the number of lives lost
  • using a blanket and pillow of a recently lost brother keeps their soul with you for a while, but you can’t have it for too long, otherwise their soul won’t be able to move on and you’ll be haunted (”haunted” being getting/worsening PTSD, depression, and/or nightmares)
  • wearing a piece of armor from a lost brother (especially one’s closest brother) can help keep you safe in battle as their soul watches over your every move (they are not bound like with blankets and pillows). 
  • The chest piece is preferred, but leaving a brother’s chest bare in a battlefield is bad luck and disrespectful, so the vambraces are normally taken.
  • A shiny who just lost his whole squad should never sleep alone. Someone should always shadow him.
  • Every clone has a soul-mate in a clone (I’ll make up a word for this later) who they’re basically emotionally connected to. This is thought to happen because two clones were decanted at the same time, shared a jar, were promoted at the same time, etc.
  • The names of brothers who died should never be spoken before a battle unless absolutely necessary, especially of those who died violently or “young” (shinies)
  • Medics are mediators between opposing sides and are thought to have a closer connection to the dead than a regular soldier because of how much death they deal with. A clone can leave personal items of his or his brothers’ in the medbay in order to keep the owners safe during battle.
  • The only people who can safely break some of these rules are Captains, Commanders, and deck officers
  • A grieving clone and a non-grieving clone (who is close enough) can trade blankets and pillows. The grieving clone then “releases” his grief to the non-grieving one, and he’ll get better.
  • Very rarely are Jedi ever informed of any of this. They’d have to be a certain level of close with their generals–not even Anakin or Ahsoka knew about any of this. 
  • Clones who aren’t specially bonded to a clone soulmate tend to gravitate towards either a medic or command clone.
  • Very rarely, three clones would be involved in this kind of connection. These were often considered much more fragile than a two-clone bond.
  • A very dangerous act would be to leave a personal belonging with a civilians. They could be forgotten, discarded, or abused, and the clone’s soul would be lost after he died. This, however, could be considered a marriage proposal between a clone and non-clone (never another clone, and never a Jedi. That is taboo).
  • There are clones without brothers, who either were shunned by everyone around them because they committed a horrible act (betrayed a special brothers’ secrets by spilling them to the wrong person, for example) and those who willingly chose to isolate themselves, whether because of self-punishment, mourning, or because they didn’t believe they had brothers.
  • Clones who didn’t believe that they had brothers/believe they were important at all were either mutually shunned or successfully (or unsuccessfully) brought back to the main group.
  • You can ask someone to be your bonded-brother.
  • You can also disown a brother, in which you verbally declare that they are not a brother to you. This means that their soul means nothing to you, their life means nothing to you, and you would not defend them in battle or defend their honor. This often works against the accuser unless they have a good reason to disown another clone.

Sometimes I realize that if I wanted to scream as loudly as possible to get off some steam, I’d have to find a totally isolated place not to alarm people or seem crazy. And then I realize that there’s no truly isolated places anywhere easily reachable. And then I want to scream even more.

anonymous asked:

would you recommend watching outlander?

Yes if you like

  • Historical fiction
  • Romance
  • Men in kilts
  • Gratuitous sex scenes
  • Medical stuff
  • Pretty people
  • Pretty costumes
  • Good score
  • Ace cinematography 

No if you are triggered by

  • graphic scenes of a sexually violent nature 
  • graphic scenes of a violent nature 
  • miscarriage 
  • medical stuff
  • there’s probably more but this is all I can think of atm

anonymous asked:

3, 14, 25, 36?

3. Well I mean I guess you could say most of my characters are adopted from pokemon, but I hardly relate them back to the game once I create them. As for other people’s characters, Arthur and Galahad are probably the only ones that were created by someone else and the ownership was kind of handed off to me.

14. Here we have Dr. Peterson, the kind spirit of a pediatrician not too far out of medical school before he met his unfortunate demise. 

His ambitions to become a well known doctor and discover new horizons in the medical field where abruptly ended after his failure to save a child from life threatening injuries resulted in the end of his own life. After hearing the news about his son’s passing, an angry, heartbroken father flew into a rage and blew past hospital security in pursuit for the doctor ‘responsible’. Unfortunately, the infuriated man got a hold of Dr. Peterson after only a few heated seconds of searching, and after a violent assault with whatever medical instruments were on hand, the young doctor was shoved out of the nearest window and sent plummeting down into the asphalt nine stories below.

Now he haunts the halls of that same hospital, bringing whatever good will he can to patients and good employees.

25. That’s easy! Boomsheika! She’s actually the character I made to represent myself in an amplified form, so she’s like my personality of hyper drive.

36. Well, lets see here.

Denny and Devin are brother and sister, Galahad and Reinhardt are adopted brothers, Emma is one of Jocelyn’s six little sisters, Monty and Dexter are best friends, Merlin (who seriously needs a real name) and Elric are like partners against the world’s cruelty and nerd bros, and  Andlát and Kveykva are married.

“O'malley crawled beside him and wrapped his arms possessively around the shivering, humiliated medic.

“…I forgive you.”

Doc just closed his eyes to avoid looking at the redhead, who tugged him closer and rested his head on the medic’s shoulder, more content than he had ever felt in his life. Even though Doc would probably switch up his medication again after this.

It was after that incident that Doc started purchasing spearmint mouthwash.”

so i decided to draw a picture of the deleted….. graphic scene…. of o'malley and doc in murderers row by violent-medic…. read the damn fanfic! its amazing!

anonymous asked:

There had been a sudden knock at the infirmary, a small box with holes punctures on the side violently shook.

Medic opened the door and looked around. She almost didn’t notice the box. She picked the box up and looked around it, shaking it lightly.