#again. they make me sick. i hate them so much.

[darkbluekies]

In the hands of a madman 2024 ver

Doctor!yandere oc x reader

Summary: a doctor is very peculiar about his favorite patient, and senses a threat once they disobey him.

Warnings: yandere, poison, murder, cuff restraints

Word count: 2.4k

You gag.

“Yes, yes, I know”, he coos, grimacing and removes the wooden stick out of your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

You're left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Why does he always stick that thing as far down your throat as humanly possible? You thank heavens that it’s not one of the needles extracting blood from your arm, although you’re sure that’s what’s waiting tomorrow.

“Still nothing?” you ask cautiously. 

He meets your eyes and you know immediately. You sigh heavily. Your heart sinks to your stomach. 

Every three months, he’s doing all sorts of tests to see if you’re getting better — or what’s what he’s saying. Every three months, Dr Kry has to check every vital sign on you to make sure that his sickness isn’t getting out of his control. But you don’t like them. They hurt. Badly.

“Will I ever get to go home? I want to.” 

Dr Kry sighs and sits down on his rolling stool, coming over to your bed.

“I know you do, but you that’s not possible”, he says apologetically. “You know that too.”

“Yeah, because you keep reminding me”, you mutter. 

“That’s better than giving you false hope, isn’t it? Wouldn’t that drive you insane?”

It would, but you don’t say it out loud. Doesn’t need to.

“I want to go home!” you say again, louder this time. 

“Saying it louder won’t make you better or me change my mind”, Dr Kry says. 

You sigh and press your palms to your eyes, trying to press the tears back into your eyes before they escape. You’ve been here for too long by now. You’ve been isolated for so incredibly long. ALl you want is to go home. You know no one, talk to no one beside him. The proper, sophisticated man who’s stiffer than a stick. Dr Kry sighs and moves closer. 

“I know that you’re disappointed”, he says and puts his large hand on your shoulder. “But this is for the best. “I don’t want you to get worse.”

“I hate these fucking tests! They hurt.”

“I know.”

He glances towards the white air purifier on the shelf beside the bed. The poisoned air purifier. He’s always making sure it’s not too much, not too little. Just the exact amount to keep you where he wants you — weak and vulnerable, dependent on him. 

“I know it’s hard”, he says encouragingly. “I know that you’re in pain, but you’re doing so good. You can always call for me if you need me, okay? I’m available all day and night for you.”

You press forward a smile, but can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. Why did this happen to you? Where did you go wrong to end up here? How could a sore throat get you bed bound in a hospital room? If only you knew. 

“Let’s get you tucked in again”, Dr Kry says and helps you lie down in bed. “You shouldn’t be putting to much pressure on your body.”

He pushes up your pillows, having you lie in a 45-degree angle. It helps you breathe at night. He always tucks the blanket close to your body, as if you were a butterfly in a cocoon. He gives you a small smile before standing up. 

“Please don’t go”, you whisper. “I don’t want to be left here.”

The man looks at you, studies you carefully before nodding and sitting back down. He wipes your lonely tear with his finger. He looks at his wet finger, thinking. 

“I feel helpless”, you admit. “I don’t think I’ll ever get well again.”

Little do you know that’s exactly what he wants. 

“It’s okay, Y/N”, he says. “I will take care of you. I will stay with you until you’re well again.”

He has to force back a smile. 

“I don’t want to do these anymore”, you say monotonously. 

“I know you don’t, but you have to”, Dr Kry says apologetically and moves closer to the bed on his rolling stool. “They’re important.”

“They hurt …”

“I know, but you’re doing so good, okay? I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a small, painful smile. 

“I’ll sit here until you fall asleep, don’t worry”, he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You close your eyes slowly. He fades out. 

He takes blood tests the following day. Needles, pain.

“Now, you need to take a nap”, he says and tucks you in. 

The daily afternoon nap. You hate it, but he insists. While you sleep, he’s out taking care of other patients that are not you. He hates it, hates wasting his time and skill on people that aren’t you. Those patients are one time patients that are there for surgeries, consultations or checkups. No long term patients that have to stay in the hospital. Everyone gets to leave after he meets them. Everyone but you. You stay. 

You keep your eyes closed until Dr Kry leaves the room. Quickly, you sit up and get out of bed. After all these fucking tests, you’re deserving of something else than the tasteless cardboard Dr Kry gets you. Just one brownie. Something that has sugar. And maybe some coffee for caffeine too. 

Quietly, you sneak out into the corridor. There’s something about these sterile passageways that makes the hair on your back stand on its end. Is it the dehumanized area or the fact that you’re never allowed here? Is it nerves or excitement? Whatever it is, you decide to speed up your steps and hurry towards the elevators before anyone sees you. They’ll tell him. Just as the doors are about to close, someone stops the doors. A boy dressed in a similar hospital gown as yourself forces his way into the elevator. He gives you a rushed, apologetic smile. 

“Sorry”, he says sheepishly. “I am in a hurry.”

“What happened to you?” you ask and smile halfly. 

“I escaped from the therapist. A real pain in my ass.”

You can’t help but giggle. The young man licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Have you met her?” he asks. “The therapist?”

“No”, you say. 

You haven’t met anyone but your stiff and proper doctor. 

“Don’t”, the young man advices you and leans his back against the wall. “She’s mental. I honestly think she should be the one getting interrogated — not me.” He looks at you, eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Do you meet others?” you ask. 

“In the lounge. Have you been there?”

You shake your head and lower your eyes. 

“Did you just arrive?” the man asks. 

You shake your head again. 

“How long have you been here?”

“A while.”

The elevator stops and the doors open at your floor. 

“Are you going to the cafeteria?” the man asks. 

“Yes”, you reply. 

“I’m coming with you. Maybe you can help me blend in.”

“Okay.”

The boy seems frantic, but happy. Running on adrenaline and excitement. Together, you walk through the hospital to the cafeteria and realize that you don’t have any money. Your shoulders fall. Did you come here for nothing? 

“Aren’t you going to order something?” the young man asks. 

“I don’t know”, you reply quietly. 

Before you have the time to come up with a lie why you can’t order anything, you recognise something in the corner of your eye. A blonde man dressed in a white robe. You feel your blood run cold. 

“What do we have here?” Dr Kry asks and you have a hard time reading his tone or facial expressions. “What do you think you are doing out of bed?”

He walks over to you and grabs your shoulder. You flinch. His grip is … tight. Painful. 

“You’re supposed to rest”, Dr Kry says shortly.

He looks at the young man. His eyes seem to go right through him. 

“Where are you supposed to be?” he asks. 

He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry gives him a cold gaze before grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip. He doesn’t say anything as he starts to pull you with him. His steps are quick, steady. Angry. 

“Doctor …”, you try.

He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry pushes you into the elevator and presses the button. He doesn't let go of your arm.

“Doctor, I’m sorry”, you say. 

He still doesn’t answer. You barely dare to look at him. There’s something about his face that scares you. It's stoic, unreadable. But he oozes anger. Like a dark cloud.

The elevator stops, the doors open. His tight grip remains as he drags you back into your room.

“Lay down”, he instructs shortly.

You do, too scared to disobey. Dr Kry walks past you, to the drawers by your bed. He rips out two leather bands that look like belts for dolls. Before you're aware of what he's doing, he's strapped one of your wrists to the bed railing.

“Wait, doctor-”, you blurt out.

“Be quiet.”

He locks your other wrist to the other railing. You tug at the restraints, and find them secure.

“Are they too tight?” Dr Kry asks, still with that short tone that sends icy needles down your spine.

“Doctor, what are you-?”

“Answer the question. Do they hurt?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He turns to his desk, ignoring you.

“Doctor, I'm sorry”, you say.

“You broke my trust”, he says without giving you any attention. “It's important, for your healing, that you do not deceive me. I need to be able to trust that you do as I say. How many times have you done this?”

“Only this time, I promise.”

He doesn't answer. You feel how your eyes fill with tears. Your body is in such a vulnerable state that your body betrays you. You didn't want to upset him, didn't want to put your own health at risk by doing this. 

“I'm sorry, doctor”, you sniffle. “I didn't mean to break your trust.”

He sighs and turns his head to look at you. His blue eyes soften and he rises from his chair, coming over to your bed. He can't stay mad at you, not when you're clearly dumb. You don't understand, he can't be mad at you for not understanding. He should — and is — mad at himself for not foreseeing these situations and making sure you don't do it.

“You know that I only want what's best for you, don't you?” he asks and wipes your tears with his hand.

“Yes”, you reply.

“In that case, I want you to never repeat this mistake. Mistakes are forgivable, but they should be minimized, do you understand that?”

“Yes. Do you forgive me?”

He has to force back a smile. You're so unbelievably cute.

“Yes, I do forgive you”, he says. 

“Can you take off the restraints?”

“No. I might forgive you, but I need you to know what happens once mistakes occur. This is the consequences that follow. If I can't trust you to be where I want you to be, I need to take precautions to make sure you are.”

You lower your gaze.

“Who was that, by the way?” he asks. “That young … man. Why did you speak to him?”

“I don't know, he took the same elevator as me.”

“I don't want you to speak with him again. If he's the one they're looking for, I don't want you getting influenced by his reckless ideas.”

“I don't get to speak to anyone, anyways.”

“And that's how it should be. We don't know why you're sick, and you shouldn't contaminate someone else.”

“What about you, then? You can get sick too.”

“I'm ready to take that risk.”

He's too nice, you think. All he wants is to take care of you and you put his selfless risks to hell when you decide to disobey him. How horrible of you.

“Now, you need to take that nap for real”, he says. “I will sit by my desk. If you need something you can just let me know.”

He walks back to his desk and sits down, starting to file some paperwork. You tug at the restraints. You're not going anywhere.

When you’ve fallen asleep, Dr Kry makes his way through the hospital. They’ve captured that young man and put him back into his room … and Dr Kry wants a talk with him. He opens the door quietly. The young lays in bed, sleeping. Dr Kry circles around him, taking a good look at him. Did you find him cute? Hot? Did you like talking to him? Did you think that he was better than him? Did you enjoy those ten minutes with him more than these months with Kry? Do you want to meet with him again? He glares at the sleeping man. Dr Kry walks over to the supply closet, an identical to the one in your room, and takes out one of the spare pillows. Silently, he walks over to the bed, lifts the pillow and presses it over the young man’s face. He widen his eyes, pulled out of his slumber. He screams against the pillow, his voice getting muffled in the fabric. 

“Normally, I’d make this easy for you”, Dr Kry grunts as the man starts to fight against him. “Out of pity, but you don’t deserve that mercy.”

He screams in confusion, fear. Dr Kry can make out words. What. No. Help. Stop.

“Just give in and give yourself that mercy”, Dr Kry continues. “If you continue to fight against me, you’ll be in more pain.”

The man cries. Dr Kry breaks out into a smile. 

“You’re going to die either way, you can choose to end it quicker.”

The young man doesn’t seem to get the memo. He continues to fight, cry, plead. He drinks it all in. The horror, the helplessness. The dear in headlight. He has seen the light in people’s eyes disappear multiple times during his job as a doctor. To see the moment someone becomes just a piece of flesh. He has never enjoyed it as much as now. The man stops moving. Dr Kry removes the pillow and takes a step back, looking at the lifeless body. He breathes out. Finally, he can calm down. 

And now, all he needs to do is to make sure he can not be traced back. 

He finds you sleeping soundly as he comes back to your room, wrists still locked to the sides of the bed. You make his heart ache. He sits down beside you, brushing his fingertips over your cheek. 

I control your life, my little one. You’re going to say with me and I’ll take every repercussion to make sure you don’t disappear. 

[mxltifxnd0m]

having a witch s/o headcanons ⟡ s. winchester

pairings: sam winchester x witch! reader, sam winchester x gn afab! reader

word count: 1.8K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', mentions of death and violence, some angst, fluff, dean being dean and not liking witches, [a part of season of the witch verse!]

a/n: ahhh im so excited for this little universe i've created and i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i had making it!!

as always enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog! your feedback fuels me <3

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⟡ before dating you/ how you met: 

the two of you didn’t exactly get off on the right foot when you guys met for the first time 

you taught at the local university in your town, trying to live as normal as a life as you could while being a witch

the boys were on a hunt in the town you were living in, and they thought that you were the witch that was killing the college students (they were your previous students, hence why they came to that conclusion) 

they had tried cornering you in your office after hours while you were working late but you managed to escape their grasp and flee. (you called in sick the next day and canceled classes) 

after the minor altercation the three of you had, you managed to track down the winchesters and confront them at their motel room, and you explained the situation to them (it was a rogue witch from your father’s previous coven that was seeking revenge on your family since they were betrothed to each other but your father had fallen in love with your mother, running away, and then having you)

you knew about the winchesters, who hasn’t? so you knew that they would be hesitant about accepting your help, but you weren’t doing it to help them; you were doing it to save your own behind and save your students 

dean outright refused your help, but sam, being the smart man he was, knew that without your help or knowledge, tracking down that witch would be difficult, so a hushed conversation later (you heard every single word that they said in that small motel room) they had accepted your help on the condition if you ever stepped out of line that they wouldn’t hesitate on killing you 

you rolled your eyes at their threat but agreed (you haven’t killed a human being in all of your years of being alive so you weren’t going to start now, though with dean’s attitude towards you, you just might break that record) 

working with the winchesters was like pulling teeth, but at the end of it all, you guys killed the witch, and the winchesters went on their merry way. 

you were hoping that would be the first and last time you’d ever see their faces, but alas fate is a mistress that you hate to serve, and they ended up at your office, posing as FBI agents once again and needing your help (it was mostly sam asking and dean standing next to him stone-faced)  

you flat out refused to help them, not wanting to be pulled into their world of crazy (your mother made sure you had as normal a life as you possibly could, and you weren’t going to give that up for the winchesters), so you swiftly sent them out of your office   but you weren’t very lucky later that night when sam had shown up on your doorstep and all but intruded on what you thought was going to be a quiet night

against your better judgment, you invited the gentle giant into your home, and you shared the pizza that you had ordered in silence before he tried once again to ask for your help 

it was either the wine you had consumed or his pleading puppy dog eyes (it was probably the combination of both) but you found yourself saying yes to help them 

you swore to yourself that this was the only time that you would help them 

but newsflash, they didn’t end up happening, after that hunt, you and sam had exchanged numbers, and you found yourself texting sam and helping them out with either research or spells that they needed for a hunt 

hell, even dean had gotten ahold of your number and texted you for help (but this was very rare and sam was typically the person to reach out and ask for help) 

then the texts with sam had crossed over from just asking for help and the two of you started to have friendly conversation with one another 

it was nice, being able to chat with him, you knew that sam was kind and intelligent in his own right so the two of you texted each other often before it turned frequent 

months had passed, and you had a tentative friendship with sam but before you knew it, you had developed feelings for the taller winchester and you were a little terrified about it (you knew that sam was generally more open about monsters, but there was a little voice in the back of your head telling you that he could always turn on you) 

you became distant with him, trying to be discrete about it but sam was perceptive and called you out on it, and you gave him a bs excuse about it 

turns out that wasn’t enough because a day later, he had shown up on your doorstep like he did when he asked for your help that night and practically confessed his feelings towards you

you were shocked by it, but managed to tell him that you felt the same, you melted seeing the grin that he gave you before he leaned down and captured your lips in a passionate kiss 

⟡ dating sam winchester 

at first, the two of you took it slow; you didn’t want to rush with sam, considering that you felt so strongly for him and sam to you

sam also had to deal with dean, knowing how his brother felt about witches, and even if you guys were on decent terms, the two of you had no idea how he’d feel if his little brother was dating a witch. 

so sam kept it from dean, but it wasn’t going to be for long, just until the two of you were comfortable telling him, but considering you lived a couple of states away, you’d hope it be soon because you knew that the older winchester wasn’t dumb and would question sam about his whereabouts if he visited you often. 

the two of you did long distance, which was difficult, to say the least, not seeing each other for weeks at a time, and with you teaching and sam traveling the states for hunts, it left a lot to be desired, but you guys found workarounds for it  

but there was an insistence that sam didn’t respond to your texts for at least three days, which was out of the norm (he usually took a day to respond if he couldn’t find time to respond if he was out on hunts) and so you panicked and tracked sam’s phone to a hospital (which worried you immensely). you immediately high-tailed it to the location where his phone was. you burst through the hospital doors, and dean was waiting in the lobby for his brother to be discharged and was confused to see you here 

then sam came walking (limping) down the hallway, and his eyes landed on yours, and before he knew it, your lips were on his, but he sank into your embrace nonetheless (dean looked at this scene with wide eyes and when you guys broke away, you expected dean to drag you off of his brother and possibly kill you) 

lucky for you and sam, dean liked you enough that you had his permission to date his brother (but that didn’t mean that he pulled you out of the motel room that the boys were staying in and threatened you lightly) 

soon after dean had given his seal of approval, sam asked you to move in with him in the bunker after a year of dating

you almost said yes immediately, but you said you would think about it since that would mean uprooting your life and abandoning a life of normalcy

it only took a week to think it through and about a month and a half later, you were moved into the bunker in Lebanon, Kansas living with the boys was a huge adjustment at first, but you guys eventually found your groove, and you had become an important asset in helping them out on research and spell work 

speaking about spell work, since you were born with your abilities (thanks to your father), magic came easy to you, but you only worked with healing magic and light magic (you studied everything else; it was good to be knowledgeable about all facets of the craft) 

but your healing salves and magic came in handy in their line of work any time they were injured 

you had a separate workspace when working with your craft (you had cleared out an old room that wasn’t being used and they were okay with it) 

you found yourself in that room more often than not and usually sam would come in and just study you as you bustled around the room (his gaze never strayed from your focused face as you worked and found it adorable when you slightly jumped when you looked up from the book you were reading to find sam smiling at you) 

sam never really expressed his feelings about learning about the magic you used, so you were thoroughly surprised when sam came to you asking if you could teach him 

you weren’t sure at first but eventually caved (those damn eyes of his would be the death of you) 

he was a good student and a fast learner, which shouldn’t have surprised you considering you knew how smart he was

but dating sam while you lived with him was a breeze (bar from the fact that even when he was a human heater, he stole the covers often and the little spats the two of you had, which most of the time were solved in a matter of hours and led to great sex) 

it was the first time in a relationship that you felt like you could be yourself for once, having to brush off the side of yourself as a hobby or hide it from your partners 

but with sam, you didn’t need to hide it and it felt so freeing

sam was understanding, compassionate, sweet, gentle, and so many more things that you could rattle off but it would take too long to even explain, but you couldn’t have asked for a better person to be your partner 

he’d given you the pet name of jinx, and at first it sounded like a nickname that dean would have given you, but it slowly grew on you, and he was the only one who could call you that (mainly because you threatened bodily harm if dean had called you by it) 

so in return, you’d given him the pet name of “my heart” which you thought was fitting because he did have it fully and you loved the blush that crept up his neck and bloomed on his cheeks when you called him by it

there were always going to be bumps in the road, and life-ending events looming over the two of you, but you were convinced that if he was by your side and you by his, you guys could do anything 

[devondeal]

Agatha and Rio zodiac signs aka hear me out about Rio’s sign essay

So Agatha is clearly a water sign, most likely Scorpio. She is extremely smart, vindictive, and internalizes like no other.

She also cares so deeply that it probably even scares her sometimes. A big Scorpio thing is being afraid of being vulnerable because they know deeply they feel. Probably why she reacted so intensely toward Rio about Nicky. In her mind, she had opened herself to love and that same love took away her baby. Plus she is so a scorpion and is very much like the scorpion and the swan with her little Road deception.

I know Rio being Lady Death technically has no birthday but this is for FUN so aint no one be a wet blanket here please.

This is going to surprise people and it is definitely out of my bias of being this sign but I believe Rio is a Libra.

HEAR ME OUT

Libra’s symbol is a scale. It is the only zodiac sign that is not represented by a living thing. Rio is above all living things and like Libra the scale, is all about balance. It is also an air sign which again given her mysterious and spiritual nature makes sense.

She is bothered by things like ghosts and Billy reincarnating into a dead body because it opposes the natural balance.

Now onto personality stuff, Libra’s are known for being aloof but charismatic. Very much how Rio presents herself. She is also quite gentle and soft in her own special way and knows how to make the people she loves feel cared for (the flowers for Agarha, defending her against her mother and the coven turning against her, being sweet with Nicky when it was his time holding his hand).

However the aloofness and need for balance can can work against her relationships like having to take Nicky, telling Agatha Billy isnt her son because it was the right thing even though it meant not getting to be with her love.

Libra is also a sign that is known for romance and needs partnership to be balanced within themselves. Rio is extremely romantic with the gift giving and physical touch love languages (she touches Agatha A LOT).

And she is one needy little Death Lady. Her desperate need to be with Agatha again is very obvious and she doesnt even try to hide it. So much so, she went against her usual balance and let Agatha have time with Nicky. She is so deeply in love with Agatha and do anything for her but also because she loves Nicky she had to take him when she did as he was sickly and suffering.

Perhaps she could have let him live so Agatha wouldn’t hate her but because she is selfless and couldn’t let him suffer she did the right thing (plus he clearly wanted to go and was tired of being sick).

The Rio we see in the current time having been apart from Agatha for centuries and knowing she is hated by the one she loves for something she didn’t have a choice doing has clearly changed her. Like a typical Libra she is completely unbalanced without her wife, her partner. And all her more negative Libra qualities come out.

Her aloofness, tendency for passive aggressiveness, the “weird girl” vibes in the group despite being her usual social Libra self and having no problem interacting with the coven all while knowing they’re doomed. Isolated from yet together with them. Like the Ballad says, “together and alone.”

And finally, Rio’s behavior when attacking Agatha in both the beginning and the end is the ultimate show of a Libra at the end of her rope. Rio is not one to lose control especially how she did in the final fight. She is Lady Death after all. But this comes after CENTURIES of being ignored, being demonized undeservedly. And what does a Libra hate more than anything? Injustice and this one is deeply personal. She did what was best for their son and got punished for it.

Yet she never stopped loving Agatha. She defended her against her mother, the coven, tried her best to reconcile with her and explain herself only to be told Agatha never wants to see her face again.

So she attacks explosively, theatrically, like never before. And yet she STILL loves Agatha and cries out her desperation of wanting to be loved back. “Why don’t you want me?” Even after Agatha called her evil. Still a Libra, needing to have her person, and forgiving when Agatha kisses her because that’s all she’s ever wanted.

Then after losing the love of her eternal life, she shuts down, returning to her skull form. Her deepest scar having been ripped open. A traumatized Libra will retreat into their aloof tendencies.

And all this long ass essay is my extremely biased reasoning for Rio being a Libra. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[lucygraysboy]

“well, coriolanus never played with dolls, but tigris and i did,” billy softly corrects, moving her left foot away from the water and reaching for her right one to repeat the process. he can tell just by the way she talks to him that she’s having a hard time believing his story. “did he ever say anything ‘bout me? my brother, i mean.” most of billy’s friends from thirteen don’t know much about his background and he can’t help but wonder if coriolanus’ ever mentioned him. “how can i convince you that i’m not my brother?” maybe all they need is time, billy thinks to himself, forgetting that he’s supposed to be on his merry way in the morning. but he can’t leave her here. she’ll die. “sorry to rain on your parade again, but last time i was at the capitol or in any penthouse, i was five years old. i’m a little older now,” he counters, but there’s no actual bite to his voice. he’s persistent but far from hateful or angry. “and i’m not a snow anymore. i took my mother’s maiden name after she…” died. but the word sours on his tongue. “to honor her.” he couldn’t call himself william snow while surrounded by rebels, and so he introduced himself to everyone as billy bonney. “that doesn’t surprise me at all. our grandmother hates people from the districts with a passion, fears ‘em, too. maybe you reminded her of our ma on top of it all.” not that their mother was born in the districts, but she had a very similar hair color, was a petite woman with a love for colorful dresses, much like the one she’s wearing now. “i’m sorry you got to meet her,” he sighs, cleaning the blisters on her right foot with utmost tenderness. he’s seen worse things. it doesn’t really bother him. “i’m not my brother.” he feels like a broken record, but what else is he supposed to say? her story sounds crazy and he’s still trying to wrap his head around it, but the blisters on her feet and the state that she’s in are a testimony of their own.

“lucy gray. that’s a nice name.” very beautiful, but it’s left unsaid, hanging in the air between them. she is very beautiful, even with all this dirt and scratches and matted hair. her eyes are very unique, hypnotizing. “nice to meet you, lucy gray,” he offers, briefly wondering if he should shake her hand but making no move for it. “what i meant by…?” he trails off, unsure what she’s talking about. he keeps glancing upwards, smiling shyly in hopes it might soften her demeanor. he dries her right foot and rubs some iodine into her wounds before pulling the other warm sock on it. he lets go of her ankle, her words still ringing in his head as part of him refuses to accept them — a liar with a bad heart, that’s not his brother, that’s not the coriolanus he remembers. “will you let me see ‘em? while we’re at it? i’ll just take a quick look and put some iodine on ‘em. you should change out of this dress anyway. can’t sit here all drenched, you’ll get sick.” his heart lurches into his throat as he can’t help but wonder what kind of wounds her clothes are hiding. bullet wounds? just little scratches? animal bites?

“mhm.” got what from his mother? being entirely wrong and insane? “hard to believe you did that.” the songbird muses, bitterly thinking how he has no heart for himself let alone anyone else. “last i checked…tigris, you and grandma’am all shared a condo. the snow penthouse.” lucy gray reminds since he’s out of his mind and can’t even think for himself. “you never spoke highly about your grandmother even back then. and she didn’t take a likin’ to me much either, so that makes sense.” of all things, he does seem to remember this information about his hateful grandma. “except— you did. you did attack me first in the woods the last time. so i came prepared this time.” dumbass, she bites her tongue from blurting that last word like she almost does. “lucy. my full name is lucy gray, you know that.” annoyingly glaring off to the side, “i don’t know what you meant before.” because at times, she was using him too— in the beginning. a part of her did spark care and love in her heart for him, there was a glimmer of it but it didn’t engulf her because she knew something wasn’t honest about him. she knew something was OFF. those bad feelings extinguished any forming burning love in her chest for him the second she began to sense those red flags arise, even long before he started shooting at her or lied to her. it’s complicated on how to put it in words, because at times her heart did flutter when he was kind to her and kind to maude ivory. when they exchanged kisses and that day at the lake— but all of that died and to her, he very well could’ve just been faking it all which makes it easier to pretend those feelings never happened. “course i cared for you, but i began realizin’ you aren’t the noble person i thought you were and i don’t go for people like that. a liar with a bad heart is a quick way to turn me off.” so in other words, no, she doesn’t have feelings for him anymore. if his kind acts were genuine like the acts he’s doing now, then she certainly would’ve changed her mind. it’s a weird feeling, seeing him be nice to her, it serves to irritate her even more because she would’ve liked coriolanus to be this person but instead he was a monster. is a monster. “there’s one on my upper arm,” covered by her sleeve on her left arm, “and a few cuts on my legs. but those’ll be fine...” she claims even though they aren’t as she watches him slip the sock onto her foot.

[peppymintdreams]

You a Sickie Baby?

Elias x Barista

Elias is sick and Nurse barista is here to take care of the huge baby

Elias hated being sick. He was used to being the protector, the one in charge, the one who never let anything—especially something as ridiculous as a cold—slow him down. But this time, he couldn't deny it: he was miserable.

Curled up on the couch, buried under a pile of blankets, his usually sharp, confident demeanor had been replaced by groggy eyes and a stuffy nose. His hair was a mess, and he had a box of tissues beside him that was already half empty.

Barista, on the other hand, was in full caretaker mode. They floated around the room, making sure he had everything he needed. Warm tea? Check. Soup simmering on the stove? Check. A constant supply of tissues and medicine? Check.

"How are you feeling now?" Barista asked, kneeling beside the couch and brushing a few stray locks of hair from Elias' forehead.

Elias let out a low groan, turning his face away in mock protest. "I’m fine. You don’t need to fuss."

"You’re not fine," Barista said, clearly unconvinced. "You sound like a clogged toilet. You acting like it too your full of shit"

Elias grumbled something under his breath, pulling the blanket higher over his face to hide his embarrassment. "I don’t need to be babied," he muttered.

Barista chuckled softly, clearly enjoying this rare opportunity to see the usually tough and unflinching Elias in such a vulnerable state. "You’re not being babied. I’m just... taking care of you."

"Same thing," Elias mumbled from under the blanket. He felt warm all over, and it wasn’t just from the fever.

Barista gave him a knowing smile and gently tugged the blanket down so they could see his face again. "I don’t know, you kinda seem like you’re enjoying the attention."

"I am not," he grumbled, eyes narrowing despite the warmth spreading through him as Barista’s hand came up to stroke his cheek softly. "You just—"

But before he could finish, Barista pressed a thermometer against his lips. "No more talking until we check your temperature."

Elias sighed, begrudgingly letting Barista place the thermometer under his tongue. As they waited for it to beep, Barista leaned in and kissed his forehead gently, as if to reassure him that he was in good hands. Elias tried not to let it show, but his heart fluttered a little at the small gesture.

When the thermometer beeped, Barista pulled it out and glanced at the reading. "101.5. Yep, you're definitely staying right here and resting."

Elias groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "Ugh. I hate this."

"I know," Barista said sympathetically, standing up to grab his tea from the nearby table. "But it's part of being human. Even tough guys like you get sick sometimes."

Elias peeked out from under his arm, pouting slightly. "I hate being a human right now."

Barista couldn't help but laugh. "Trust me, you’ll feel better soon. But for now, just let me take care of you, okay?"

Elias sighed, clearly still reluctant but not putting up much of a fight anymore. "Fine. But only because I have no choice."

"You love it," Barista teased, offering him the mug of tea.

Elias took it, grumbling as he sipped. "I tolerate it."

Barista raised an eyebrow, crossing their arms. "Is that so? Then maybe I’ll just stop pampering you."

Elias’s eyes widened, and his hand shot out, grabbing onto Barista’s sleeve before they could walk away. "Wait, wait��I didn’t say I hated it," he quickly corrected, the usual bravado slipping away as he gave them an exaggerated, pitiful look.

Barista smiled, clearly enjoying this little power play. "That’s what I thought. Now, drink your tea."

Elias rolled his eyes but obediently sipped the warm liquid. Despite his complaints, there was something comforting about having Barista fuss over him like this. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but being taken care of—even babied a little—wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Especially when it was them doing it.

Barista pulled the blanket up to his chin again and kissed the top of his head, sitting beside him as he settled back against the cushions. “You’ll be back to normal soon, Elias. Until then, just relax. I’ve got you.”

Elias closed his eyes, a small, almost undetectable smile tugging at his lips. He was sick, yes—but with Barista around, maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

[nonchalantatall]

My (slightly late) day 5 submission for vbs week on twitter!

The prompts were 'Machi' and 'Past' and I took that to mean 'Vivid Old Tale' which is an event story about little An not realizing how important she is to the people around her. In it, she also acquires her fear of ghosts and the like, so that's where this fic comes from.

It was also heavily inspired by this tweet in a thread of akian texting edits.

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[pierregaslays]

(un)friendly reminder that susie wolff almost lost her entire career over a RUMOUR and christian horner gets to keep his job and his reputation despite there being pages and pages of evidence against him. not to mention half the grid playing sexual harassment off as “distraction” and “noises” and wishing they could focus on racing instead. from the bottom of my heart, fuck this sport. i hope it burns in hell

[thebirdandhersong]

It is some consolation that one day this will not make me bristle

[itsseriouslyridiculous]

I really hate how my physical body looks so so so much. unfortunately there isn't much I can do about it.

[fiapple]

...the "nothing happened" scene has caused my brain to latch on to zoro with a vice grip. send help.

[rapidhighway]

I didn’t go to sculpture again……

[werebutch]

WSBH chara q’s: (you don’t have to answer all the numbers, just whatever you want to 𖢘)

16/35/51 for Scotch

1/6/55 for Atlas

I LOVE YOU

16. What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

okay i truly think scotch argues with seraph in his head all the time. ALL the time. scotch largely ignores them, and vice versa, because he dislikes them and they know it. seraph is very conflict avoidant lol, and as long as hes not a "threat" they dont care to talk to him about their problems. he probably argues with atlas and jacob (his older brother) too, atlas about more stupid small stuff, and jacob about childhood and life stuff :p

im trying to think of more general groups he would argue with but i cant come up with anything BAHAH. hes not exactly conflict avoidant in the annoying libra way that seraph is, he more just ignores conflict for his friends’ (mostly atlas’) sake. idk if that makes sense LOL

35. What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

hmmm.. smallest? i mean scotch strings eloise along for most of the time pre timeskip. its not a main focus but its definitely important in order to understand scotch as a whole. she and scotch go out for a while, and mid way through that he realizes hes GAY gay. lol. and obviously lying to her about that is pretty questionable after a while. especially since he and atlas have been 👉👌 like the whole time. but she kind of knows. well

something a little bigger would be him encouraging or otherwise turning a blind eye to all the weird stuff atlas is up to. he doesn't know what it's like to be a werewolf, he can't say anything, right? lol.... murder is okay if its a talking dog doing it. scotch enabler supreme. actually when seraph is introduced, he and atlas have a 'joke' (kind of starts being real) about luring seraph somewhere to kill them. obviously doesnt happen and gets abandoned. but i think its important to know about their dynamic LOL

51. What’s a phrase they say a lot?

this guy is kind of goofy. i cant think of phrases rn but he has a specific way of speaking.. you could watch pretty much any old pop punk band interview and kind of get the idea. HAHAH

1. What’s the lie your character says most often?

atlas is a big fan of saying 'its fine' for all situations ever. family in mortal danger? its fine. completely splitting? its fine. arthritis excruciating? its fine. hes one of those people that dont like to deal with the fawning of others unless hes feeling real special. Ends up putting people in more danger a lot of the time. i think eloise is the only fan of communication in this friend group to be honest. i should have made her the main character

he tends to make promises he cant keep as well, but thats more general..

6. What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

i have NO idea. i feel like atlas would be a music snob, so maybe his favorite 'super underground' bands. otherwise he'd probably never recommend raw human meat to another human (no matter how much scotch asks -__-).. (he would chicken out anyway)

55. What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

um. so atlas hates working out. he especially hates running, you know, the thing that wolves are known for doing a lot of? unfortunately the lycanthropy came with a side effect of pretty bad arthritis, so that doesnt exactly encourage him. he DOES exercise, a lot since hes pretty much required for his ermm "side job", but he hates it 😸 besides the arthritis it’s mostly because I think it’s silly that he hates it. yay

[longagoitwastuesday]

Going through the Utahim.e tag had me checking several times if at some point I had clicked on the G.ojo/Utahim.e one instead

[as-rare-as-trees]

I saw on instagram some silly high heeled flip flops and the way I NEED to draw Will wearing them

[bunnihearted]

📖🖊❄️