#but eye doctor told me that all that contact wearing is irritating my eyelids

[aimfor-theheart]

how do people wear glasses on their face all day every day i go crazy with them on for more than 8 hours

[sasshomaru]

Not even sure how to tag this for the sake of tw/cw, but if you want to read about this dude making my life fucking hell, here it is

So, I went to this place bc they offered $1k off of my surgery. They advertised it as “just looking into a laser!” (not at all true, lmao) and “mild discomfort afterward” (actually true).

I had my consultation a little over a week ago, and they basically just gave me an eye exam and blew a lot of smoke up my ass about how quick and painless the procedure would be. So…

After another eye exam and paperwork earlier today, I go into the operating room. The doctor introduces himself and takes off my glasses for me, saying “You won’t need those anymore!” and puts them on a table. He then conducts a quick exam of my eyes (I’m assuming it’s an exam) by having me just sit at a small desk and look into a machine, which he sits opposite of me in. Keep in mind I am basically against the wall at this desk. He then stands in front of me and pulls out numbing drops, and he tries to open my eyes and shove these drops in for me.

Now, all I see (because these are eye drops) is what looks like a needle coming straight for my eye, so I start squirming and throwing my head back without really meaning to. He is in front of me; in a fucked up way, it feels like he’s pinning me against the wall and I can’t escape. He then just stares at me and in this really sarcastic voice goes, “Are you really sure you want this procedure? Because if this is how you act the entire time, I’m not going to be able to get anything done.” There is no empathy, no real question in his voice.

I respond and tell him that I’m just a bit freaked out, and it feels like something is coming at my eye. He then goes “Well you wear contacts don’t you?” I say yes, and he’s says “So see, I don’t see what the problem is. You need to relax or else I’m not doing this.” The way he spoke to me was like I was an uncooperative child or something. It reminded me of how my dad would say I was “doing things on purpose” when I would mess up, like if I couldn’t understand math homework then I was just “purposely not doing it” so that he could help me, or that I was “purposely dropping tools” to get out of helping him.

Finally I relax enough to get the numbing drops in. I’m guided to a surgery bed/table. I really don’t know what to call it, but it had a headrest and was body sized for someone to lay down on. I lay down and they cover my left eye.

Then, I see a plastic circle that is eye shaped, ie. empty in the middle, and it starts lowering. Instantly I freak out, and I start crying because this thing goes around my actual eyeball, past my eyelid. The doctor asks if I’d like a ball to squeeze, and I say yes, expecting a stress ball, but they give me a ball shaped red pillow that really does nothing for me. The doctor ignores me as tears stream down my face, and he tells the nurse to suction the device. I feel the plastic circle close around my eye ball, creating a tight “perfect” fit, and I start panicking even more. No, it’s not painful, but I thought they would just pull my eyelashes back, not wrap my fucking eyeball in plastic. I was told during my consultation that I would look into a laser, and that would be it. I am told to hold still as my vision goes black, except for three or four white lights in a straight, vertical line on the left side of my vision. This holds for several seconds, maybe even a minute. All I know is that it feels like forever.

At last, the device lifts out of my eye and all I can feel is relief as they cover it. And then I see the device lower towards my left eye, and that rising panic grows even more. Tears are streaming down my face as the doctor, completely void of emotion except maybe irritation, tells me to lower my chin. The device goes into my left eye. Looking back, I had a panic attack when it happened, because—sweet relief—the device is suddenly out of my eye. I see it above me, staring at me like an empty eye.

The doctor looks down at me, upside down in my vision. He tells me that what I did was very very bad—that I could’ve lost my vision from forcing the device out of my eyeball. This does nothing to calm me down. I tell him that I’m trying, and I sit up. The doctor tells me “I can’t do this if you don’t relax and cooperate.” He’s clearly irritated now. I repeat that I am trying. “You need to try harder,” he says coldly. I am the one who remembers “take deep breaths to calm down”—no one reminds me, no one tells me, I have to figure it out on my own as I’m panicking from having a huge piece of plastic in my eyeball and being temporarily blind.

When I’m nervous, I start laughing, and as I was taking deep breaths I was still crying but starting to laugh a little. The doctor just stares at me and mumbles “Jesus Christ” like I’m a fucking nut job, like he’s treating someone in the psych ward, like he’s treating the world’s most dramatic 26 year old girl. I lay back down and try to ignore him as I take deep breaths. The device goes into my eye again, and all I can think is deep breath, deep breath, deep breath. A machine that looks like an overhead projector slowly moves over from the far left over my left eye. Then my vision goes black again for a minute.

And then, the nurse lifts me up by the hands, and tells me that the worst part is over. I am shaking and still crying as she leads me to a similar looking bed/table in the back. I can see 20/20 now, but it looks like I’m seeing everything through mist, or through a cloud. I lay down, and my left eye is covered again. Now, they pull my eyelashes back so that I won’t blink. I am told to stare into a green light in a machine that looms overhead. There is one green light in the center, and two red lights on either side. On my side, I see a needle, and I make a weird crying noise. The doctor repeats that I need to keep staring into the green light. My vision completely blurs except for the three lights, and everything becomes grainy, like it has a filter. Then two drops fill my eye, and my vision clears, but it still feels like I’m looking through a cloud.

Then they do the other eye. The doctor asks if I feel any pain, and when I say yes, he adds more numbing drops. Other than that, the procedure is the same. Once the eyelash device lifts off my eyes, the doctor verifies my phone number, and says that he will call me to followup later today. (This never happened.) He tries to joke with me. “Well Rachel,” he says. “You and I both are gonna need a stiff drink after this.”

I don’t respond, because I am still crying and sniffling and every time I speak my voice is full of tears. The nurse is the one who takes my hands and says, “You did a great job!” as she leads me back to the desk where the doctor first examined my eyes. I laugh weakly and say “No I didn’t.” She smiles and says that I tried. I sit at the desk opposite the doctor as he looks at my eyes.

“Congratulations,” he says dryly. “On being my most difficult patient of the day.”

I can feel how wet my face is from all of my tears. “But not the most difficult ever right?” is all I can ask.

“No—not the worst ever,” he says. He stands, and I do too. He hands me a pair of sunglasses and tells me that I should sleep if I can, because the next four hours “will suck.” He then looks at my stuff near the door: my phone, my wallet, my keys, and the glasses I wore when I first came in, because I was told I couldn’t wear contacts for two days up to my appointment. He looks at my glasses, and I can see his eyes filled with irritation; his voice is disgusted. “God—those are some of the worst glasses I’ve ever seen,” he says. My glasses were dirty with fingerprints, and the arms were bent too high up after I’d stepped on them once.

I don’t thank him, I don’t say anything as I head out. The lobby is full of people who see me in my sweatpants, with tear stains on my face beneath my sunglasses. I leave and go to my roommate’s car outside. She drives me home as I close my eyes, and this time I’m tearing up and occasionally sobbing from pure anger and hatred.

And then I got home and had to close my eyes for four hours, and it just feels like I have a really old contact in my eyes, and nowww I’m writing this post. tomorrow I have a followup at the same office, and I’m REAAALLYY hoping I don’t see the doctor, because all I can feel is pure hatred and rage.

I think of how he talked to me—how he most likely wouldn’t treat a 26 year old guy who was panicking like that. I wonder if I am the first woman he’s ever made feel like shit, and I know that the answer is no. I think of how he looked at me like I was insane when I was crying and trying to calm down, mumbling “Jesus Christ” under his breath, and I wonder if he would treat a grown man the same way. And I know that the answer is no.

my ass is getting Lasik today wish me luck 🫡

[the--highlanders]

1. Delicious

on ao3.

The crowd milled around Jamie, engulfing him, masses of creatures – of people, he reminded himself – towering over him until he had entirely lost his bearings. He stared after a few of them as they went by, first one, then another, wondering where they came from and where they were going. Some were laden with brightly-coloured bags, others heaving crates or rattling cages, and still others bustling to and fro in smart uniforms. Not one of them paid him any mind as they passed, too concerned with their own business. Once or twice, he opened his mouth to speak to someone as they passed, but they were always gone before he could think of what to say.

Just wait there a minute, the Doctor had said. I shan’t be long. But he had been gone a good deal longer than a minute, and the more Jamie replayed his words in his mind, the more he began to chafe at them. He was not a child, after all. He was perfectly capable of looking after himself, even if he was alone on a strange alien planet. And if the Doctor was happy to wander off without a second thought, then surely there was nothing keeping him from doing the same. He stepped forward – bumped into some towering creature that seemed entirely made up of transparent tentacles – yelped at the sudden, inexplicable pain that lanced up his arm – and stumbled backwards into someone else, spluttering and shaking his head.

“Good gracious, Jamie.” That someone spun him around to face them, fussing over his shirt collar and smoothing down his sleeves. The paper bags they held in one hand brushed against his chest, leaving a greasy mark there. “Are you quite alright?”

Of course it was the Doctor, Jamie thought. Just as he had began to think that he might be able to cope on his own for once. But the crowd was even more daunting now, hemming the two of them into their own little bubble, and he ducked his head to grin bashfully up at the Doctor. “Aye, I’m fine.” Even as he spoke, his hand twitched violently of its own accord, and he stared down at it in wide-eyed alarm. “What just happened?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t worry about it.” The Doctor waved his own hand, as nonchalant as if people’s bodies moved on their own all the time. “Humans weren’t meant for contact with the Thryx, that’s all.”

“Eh?”

“That fellow you bumped into just now.” Jamie glanced over his shoulder, scowling after them. “Oh – oh, no, it’s quite alright, it isn’t their fault – it’s just a little residual electrical energy. They can’t help it, it’s simply how their nervous system works.”

“Oh, aye.”

“It’ll wear off soon enough.” Flashing him a triumphant smile, the Doctor held up the pair of bags he was holding. “I know I’m a little late, ah – there was a terrible queue.”

All Jamie’s earlier irritation was draining away from him at the sight of the Doctor’s earnest expression. “That’s alright.” He made as if to bump his elbow against the Doctor’s, but his limbs felt swollen and clumsy, and he settled for knocking their hips together instead. Only after he had stepped away did he realise how intimate the motion had been, and a shudder ran through him, as powerful as the one the Thryx had given him. “I dinnae think I’ll be able tae hold it, though. Can we sit down?”

“Ah – yes, of course.” Taking his arm, the Doctor wove through the crowd with a deftness that belied his usual clumsy nature, ducking and weaving past the taller aliens until they reached the fountain at the centre of the great plaza. The liquid spraying from the top was too thick to be water, falling back into the basin in great purple globs. It was hardly a picturesque sight, but something about the motion was oddly soothing, and Jamie was reluctant to tear his eyes away as the Doctor pressed him down onto a bench. “There we are.” He leant back, folding his arms behind his head and tilting his face up to let the light of the suns fall on his eyelids. “So, what do you think of your first intergalactic port planet?”

Busy, Jamie wanted to say – but that hardly captured it. “It’s like -” He swallowed, his cheeks reddening at the thought of saying something so silly to the Doctor, but he pressed on. “Back home, we used tae go down to the beach to collect seaweed, right. To put on the crops. An’ one time, when I was a wee lad, I walked out into the sea. Only got up to my chest in it before athair – before my father came an’ pulled me out, but – och, I’m no’ makin’ sense, am I?”

The Doctor had opened his eyes again to watch him with a strange sort of softness in his expression. “You’re making perfect sense.

The way the Doctor was looking at him made his heart flutter uncomfortably in his chest, and he swallowed thickly, looking down at his lap. “No, I’m no’,” he said, carefully lightly. If he could turn it into a joke – if the Doctor was joking too – then he would not have to think so hard about why every nerve in his body felt like it was burning. “But that’s what it feels like. Like goin’ into somethin’ so much bigger than yourself, an’ ye feel like ye might drown.”

“That’s a rather charming way of putting it,” the Doctor said. His tone was equally light – but his words were equally careful, as if he were picking his way along the same precarious path that Jamie felt himself struggling to cling to. Perhaps he was – or perhaps it was just wishful thinking. “Now – yes, the pastries. We shouldn’t let them get cold.”

He held out one bag for Jamie to reach into, but the opening was too small for Jamie’s still-unresponsive fingers, no matter how hard he tried to force them inside. “How long did ye say it would take for me tae get better?”

“Mm.” The Doctor tapped his fingers against his lips. “I didn’t. Five minutes? Half an hour?”

It was ridiculous enough that Jamie would have burst into laughter if he had not been so worried. “There’s a hell of a lot of difference between five minutes an’ half an hour, ye know.”

“Yes, I suppose there is.” The Doctor reached into the bag himself, pulling out the pastry inside. Its bright green surface shimmered like the sun on waves as he turned it over, and Jamie shook his head, struggling to focus his eyes on it. “I’ll simply have to hold it for you, then.”

“Hey – Doctor -” Jamie spluttered out a protest, but the Doctor was already pressing the pastry against his mouth. He glared at him over the top of it, but took an obliging bite anyway. “Mm.”

“What do you think?”

He nodded, chewing thoughtfully, wondering exactly what the thing tasted like. It could almost have been apples, but there was something pleasantly sour about it that he could not put his finger on. “’S good,” he managed. “Really good.”

“Splendid.” The Doctor beamed, and there was that awful feeling in his chest again, like the twitching in his fingers had reached his heart. Maybe it had, he thought. Maybe there was some terrible side-effect the Doctor had neglected to tell him about, and he was going to collapse. “Didn’t I say you’d like them?”

“Aye, ye did.” The Doctor was holding the pastry to his mouth again. This time he glanced around surreptitiously before taking a bite, his skin crawling with the thought of even a passer-by so much as sparing them a glance. This could hardly be allowed, he thought. Not in broad daylight, in the middle of a public place. Not when the Doctor was still looking at him with his eyes so soft around the edges. “Doctor?”

“Mm?”

I do have one good arm, he wanted to tell him – opened his mouth to say – You don’t have to be feeding me – but he did not want him to stop, not really. The Doctor swiped his thumb over his cheek, wiping away a smudge of something that might have been icing sugar, and scrubbing away any coherent thoughts from Jamie’s mind along with it. The place he had touched was left tingling long after the contact was gone, and Jamie was briefly glad that his numb arm stopped him from reaching up to touch the spot himself. “Nothin’,” he said faintly.

“Alright, then.”

“Just -” Jamie twisted around to face him, fumbling to take the Doctor’s hands and press them against the bench to hold him still. His swollen fingers were still burning with the shock, and the strange coolness of the Doctor’s skin against his own felt amplified a thousand times. “I – I like bein’ here. With ye.” Even as he spoke, the words sounded so pitifully small, far too little to capture the pounding of his heart. But all the things he wanted to say were trapped beneath his skin, caught in his throat, the mere thought of them leaving him trembling like a cornered wild animal. You’re too good for me. I don’t know what I can do for you in return. It hurts when you look at me all soft like that, and I know you don’t mean what I want you to mean, but I never want you to stop.

“I’m, ah.” The Doctor glanced away, his expression flickering into something that looked dangerously like wistfulness for the briefest of moments. Wishful thinking again, Jamie told himself sternly. “I’m glad.”

I wish I knew what you were thinking.

“Aye, well. Good.”

I wish I could forget about what I’m thinking.

“Quite.”

They sat in silence, facing carefully away from each other, their hands still pressed tightly together.

I love you.

[melonkooky]

a fallen angel [bang chan]

not requested

word count: 5894

genre: fallen angel!chan, fluff, minor angst (backstory purposes)

warnings: mentions of drugs and death

author’s note: this idea was originally for a bts member (hoseok) but i thought that i should write it for another group since i already have a lot of bts one shots. this is stray kids, as they are also my favorite. i hope you guys like it!!!!

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

you sighed tiredly as you clicked the mouse one last time. your laptop screen went dark, and you could see your exhausted reflection in its screen. thank the lord you didn’t have to work for the rest of the week. you really needed time to yourself.

you closed the laptop and shoved it into your work bag, standing up and turning off your cubicle light. your feet ached with each step you took. it took every ounce of your patience to not rip off your heels and walk the rest of the way barefoot. (although you would prefer aching feet to bloody feet.) as you walked towards the exit of the office, you heard one of your colleagues, “good night, y/n.”

you smiled, turning around as you pushed open the door. “night.”

the second you stepped foot outside, you dropped your smile. you made your way to the elevator, practically slapping the down button. you released another tired breath, just as the elevator doors opened and you stepped inside. you hit the ground level button. as the elevator descended down the many floors, you pulled out your phone. you needed a distraction, or else your mind was going to shut down and you might as well sleep in the elevator. you checked your notifications; social media, messages, emails, etc. it didn’t take long for the doors to open, however, so you put your phone away and left the elevator.

cold wind brushed against your exposed face and legs as you walked outside. you pulled your work jacket tighter, attempting to warm yourself up. but it was no use. you groaned in irritation as you started to shiver. luckily, the bus stop was just outside of the office so you didn’t have to walk far. just as you were about to sit down and wait, the last bus of the night pulled over to the side. there were a couple others in the bus, probably just getting off of work just as you had. you shared a half smile with them before sitting down. you took the time to rest your body.

minutes later, just as you were about to let your eyes close, the bus stopped. it was your stop. you begrudgingly left your seat, and thanked the driver. he seemed just as tired as you were and yet he was able to share more of a smile than you had.

you stepped off in front of your apartment building. you started to walk towards the door, holding out your special key - that only residents had - to get inside, when you heard a pained grunt resonate from some bushes nearby. upon hearing the strange and slightly spine-chilling sound (in the dead of night), you looked in the direction the sound came from, but you could hardly see anything. the tiny light above the door hardly touched the bushes, and the moon hardly provided any light. after a long pause, waiting for it to happen again, you thought that perhaps you were just hearing things, that your mind was playing tricks on you because of how little energy you had. you turned once more, this time holding your key to the door, when you heard it again, followed by rustling of the bushes. your head whipped around again, this time seeing the bushes move.

“h-hello?” you called, your voice shaking as your fear grew.

after another huff, a young man, fell out of the bushes. you gasped. he wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a baggy pair of pants and shoes. well that’s unusual, you thought. under the dim light, you could see two parallel lines on his shoulder blades, both of them looking bloody, and perhaps burnt. you hurried over to the blonde-haired man. he was struggling to hold himself up. “are you okay?” you asked in a panicked state.

you tossed your work bag off to the side to crouch down to his level. you were scared to touch him, as if you would hurt him more as he seemed to be in a lot of pain. hesitantly, you pressed a hand to his shoulder. he felt hot, unusually hot, almost burning your skin. but you bared with him. when he didn’t react when you touched him, you pressed your other hand to his other shoulder, attempting to look at his face. “hey.”

he grunted some more. you sighed and looked around, hoping to find someone that could help. you couldn’t just leave him hear. when you couldn’t find anyone, the night being completely dead and still, you turned back to him. “i’m going to call for an ambulance, okay?”

you released him and reached over to your bag, pulling your phone out of it. you held your phone up to your face. the light was blinding, but you could still see the number pad. however, you were only able to type one digit of the emergency contact number before a hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. you gasped and looked at the man. he finally lifted his head up, and you got a good look at his face. he was sweaty, and his eyes were half-lidded. he was in pain, and could barely react. but with a stern voice, he said to you, “don’t.”

you hesitated before turning off your phone. “at least let me bring you to my apartment. let me help you, if you won’t let me call someone.”

he didn’t reply. you groaned slightly, before grabbing your work bag and hanging it on your shoulder. then, you grabbed his arm and wrapped it around your shoulder. you attempted to stand up, trying with all your strength to stand him up with you. he was trying to help you, but he was already on the verge of losing consciousness. he was heavy, but you could make do.

you were practically grunting as much as he was as you finally unlocked the door and walked into the building. you were dragging him, but his legs were moving, one after another. at least he was trying. you got into the elevator and pressed your floor number. you took this time to lean him against a corner. both of you needed to rest. you took off your shoes, rubbing your heels to help with the aching pain. you tossed your shoes into your bag just as the elevator let out its chime. you grabbed the unknown man again, and began making your way home.

you arrived at the door and hastily unlocked it. you were in a rush at this point. he was causing all sorts of pain in your body, not to mention he was sweating buckets and getting your work clothes wet. you felt like you were standing next to a furnace, he was so hot. but he needed medical attention and fast. “we’re here.” you told him with relief laced in your voice.

you hurried over to your couch and laid him face down, afterwards kicking the door shut behind you. you hurried over to the light switch and switched on all the lights. now you got a good look at his back. you could see the blood on his back. it was a lot. two painful looking gashes, plus some blackened skin surrounding those gashes. you winced before hurrying to your bathroom. it looked challenging. you knew he needed an actual doctor but he didn’t want you to call for one. that was suspicious, but you weren’t going to let him bleed out. you grabbed your first aid kit, praying that you had everything you needed to help him.

dropping down to your knees, you placed the first aid kit on the coffee table and opened it. you got out the disinfectant and a few cotton balls and began cleaning in wounds. he didn’t react at all. perhaps he didn’t feel it. but when you glanced at his face, he was unconscious. his eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. he must’ve been tired, or passed out from the pain. it was kinda nice though. he looked peaceful. he didn’t look like he was in pain anymore. you sighed and slowed down your pace, taking time to make sure the two wounds were cleaned properly. you were no medical expert, so you couldn’t determine if he needed stitches or not. nonetheless, you placed two giant bandages over the two wounds. content with your work, you released a heavy sigh and cleaned up.

you turned off all the lights and walked into your bathroom. now you were going to shower. you made sure to wash the blood off of your hands first. then you continued with your hair and body, before finishing your night routine.

finally, you were ready for bed. you were already fighting your eyelids, they felt so heavy. once you collapsed onto the bed and pulled the covers up to your chin, you were already out, fast asleep.

----

you groaned as you began to feel yourself wake up. your eyelids felt heavy, and your body didn’t want to move. you probably would have stayed in bed, if you hadn’t suddenly remembered that you had brought home a badly wounded stranger to your home last night. with that thought, you sat up and stretched your back. you rubbed your eyes as you left your bedroom and looked around. you saw that he was still on the couch, fast asleep. jesus, you thought, how long is he going to be out? at least pay me rent.

you didn’t want to interrupt his peaceful looking slumber. instead you opted to go into the kitchen and begin making coffee. then, you started making breakfast.

thirty minutes later, while humming a song to yourself as you prepared breakfast, you heard a groan come from your living room. your hands froze as you watched the stranger. his face contorted as he rotated his shoulders and pushed himself off of the couch. you were scared to move. you didn’t know if he was dangerous or not.

he seemed confused as he looked around. he didn’t seem to understand anything, of course it was mainly because he probably didn’t recognize where he was. but it seemed to be more than that. for example, as soon as he opened his eyes, he glared at the large black screen that was across from him with an inquisitive glare, what you would call your television. you looked around, thinking to yourself. should you talk to him? you have to at some point.

you finally gained the courage to clear your throat, alerting him of your presence.

his head whipped around in your direction. his eyes widened.

you shyly smiled, bringing up your hand to wave. you were still a little cautious, but you could at least make him not feel threatened. “good morning.”

he didn’t reply, causing your chest to tighten and your hand to drop awkwardly - the nice feeling or rejection. your smile faded as you tried to meet his eyes, but his stare was too intimidating for you. “a-are you hungry?”

no response.

“do you have a name?”

and once again, not a word left his mouth, not even a sound, so much as a reaction. he remained still. his eyes trained on you. his gaze was beginning to make you uncomfortable. it was as if he was trying to dissect you, or see through you, trying to figure you out who you were.

you sighed. perhaps he’ll speak to you when he’s ready. with a sad feeling in your heart, you turned back towards your stove and continued to make breakfast. you made sure there was extra in case he got hungry sooner or later.

you went about your first day off as normal as you could. of course, you weren’t able to chill on your couch and watch tv. the irresistibly gorgeous, blonde-haired, mysteriously wounded, eerily silent stranger had taken refuge in your home. you also were slightly scared of him. with those type of wounds, who knows who he messed with, or with that, who he was. you didn’t know anything about him, and you brought him into your home out of the kindness of your own heart. although, you didn’t feel threatened by him.

you were in your bedroom, the door closed and secure. as you lay on your bed, your work laptop open in front of you with your favorite show playing, you couldn’t focus though. you forced your eyes to watch the characters, forced your ears to listen on their conversation, but your mind still wandered to the stranger. who was he? how did he end up in the bushes? why was he hurt?

you groaned as you had to restart the scene for the fourth time. you couldn’t stand it anymore. you needed answers.

you slammed your laptop closed and angrily pushed yourself off of your bed. you stomped out of your bedroom, practically throwing open your door. you might have been mistaken for a raging bull in the eyes of a stranger. but you stopped dead in your tracks.

the stranger was standing up now, investigating your home. he seemed intrigued, a lot less confused compared to when he first woke up. and he didn’t look scared or angry anymore, like the way he had looked at you just a few hours ago. he seemed...innocent. you felt your anger slowly dissipate, although you were still slightly annoyed and curious.

you cleared your throat, alerting him of your presence. he jumped slightly, eyes going wide before returning to their normal stone cold gaze. “are you feeling better?”

he hesitantly nodded.

you perked your chin up while crossing your arms over your chest. “i need to change your bandages.”

he glanced over his shoulder. “i’m fine.” he replied, his voice quiet. he still seemed tense.

“he speaks!” you yelled. “you probably feel that way, but i bet that those two wounds on your shoulders need to be tended to. with my extensive medical knowledge, you might get an infection or something.” you spoke, a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

you waited for a reply, but he didn’t say anything. “please?” you urged.

he looked away, seeming to think about your offer. “fine.”

you released a heavy breath and hurried into your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit again. you came back, this time being cautious as you walked closer to him. he seemed weary still. you smiled at him, hoping it would reassure him. “can you please sit on the couch, back towards me please?”

he followed your instructions, sitting down with a leg underneath him and turning his back towards you. the sunlight that came in through the window was perfect lighting. it allowed you to see every detail. he was very muscular, toned, healthy-looking. you had to fight the urge to gawk at him. “i would like to let you know that i am not a doctor and i have little medical knowledge.”

he chuckled softly, barely audible, but enough for you to smile. “here we go.” you began, reaching up to peel the first bandage.

you took off his bandage, but your eyes went wide. the, what was once, a deep, bloody gash in his shoulder was now not so horrible looking. there was still a wound, but it seemed to have healed. you froze, hand still resting near his wound. “how...how did you heal so fast?”

you glanced at his profile. he seemed nervous suddenly. “i-i don’t know.”

he was lying.

“it’s not possible.” you spoke while completely baffled. “they were so deep, so bloody. and yet, now they’re hardly...they just look like cuts, like you just fell or something.”

the stranger began to slowly turn around. he avoided your eyes. “i’m okay then.”

you still had your questions. “who are you?” you inquired.

he didn’t reply. this time you weren’t taking no, or rather silence, for an answer. “goddammit, is it so hard to answer my questions? i found you practically on the brink of death in the dead of night. you fell out of some bushes like you had been thrown into them. i brought you to my own home and took care of you, and i haven’t gotten anything from you.”

he sighed and brought his hands up to rub his face. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to intrude.”

“i didn’t mean it that way. i just… i want answers.”

he looked at you finally. his gaze was soft, and almost made you melt. his eyes were boring into yours. but you kept still. there was something about him that was pulling you towards him. perhaps it was the mystery. you continued to stare into his eyes, hoping to get a reply from him.

“perhaps another day.”

you looked at him with a puzzled expression. did he mean, he was going to be staying a while? or keep in contact with you? “can i at least get your name?”

“chan. bang chan.”

you smiled, relief washing over you. “well that’s a start. i’m y/n.”

he nodded, a small smile coming to his face. he seemed to relax a bit.

“do you have any other place to stay?”

with a slow shake of his head, a sad expression showed on his face. he swallowed hard. perhaps that was a sensitive subject for him at the moment.

“well, chan, if you’re going to be staying a while, i might as well get you some new, cleaner clothes, perhaps a shirt.” you told him with a teasing tone.

his eyes brightened up as he looked at you. his cheeks flushed pink as he looked down at his toned torso. he was embarrassed. you laughed, “i’ll be right back.” you stood up from the couch. “help yourself to some food.”

----

you walked into your apartment with a few bags of men’s clothing in your hands. you were too excited about this whole ordeal. you ended up buying a few outfits, imagining chan dressed in them. you couldn’t help yourself.

“i’m back.” you yelled as you slipped off your shoes, almost falling over from the weight of the shopping bags.

chan came into your field of vision. he was eating something. “do you need help?”

you shook your head as you set down the bags on the couch. perhaps you were a little too excited about this. “alright, so i bought a few different styles for you to try. i can always return the items you don’t like. i also guessed on your size, so those that don’t fit will be returned as well.” you explained with a grin, glancing up at chan.

he was surprised. “wow… you bought so much.”

your smile faltered. “was it too much?”

“no, no! i’m just shocked. thank you.”

“well, get the first one on.” you demanded, thrusting one bag into his arms.

you watched chan walk into your bedroom, timidly closing the door behind him. you smiled, a quiet laugh escaping your lips. as you waited, you glanced into the kitchen. he had taken out the breakfast you had made this morning. he must’ve been hungry. hardly any of it was left. that was a good sign.

the door opened and chan stepped out in the first outfit. he was tense again. he probably felt shy and you couldn’t blame him. but you couldn’t help but stare in awe. “does it fit?”

he nodded as he looked down at himself.

“alright, we’re keeping that one.”

many bags later, chan had tried on all the items you bought. with each outfit, he gradually relaxed, slowly feeling the fun of trying them on. your reactions to them made him laugh.

the atmosphere was slowly growing comfortable between you and chan. he was talking to you, not feeling tense or uncomfortable anymore. you were happy that he was adjusting well. he was slowly turning into a different person, someone who you had least expected him to be.

as night rolled in, both you and chan were feeling tired. chan was now in some sweats that you had bought him earlier with a baggy t-shirt - his pajamas. you had brought some blankets for him, placing them on the couch. he was sitting down, admiring your household. you smiled apologetically. “i feel bad for making you sleep on the couch.”

he shook his head. “no, it feels nice. it’s more than i could ask for.” his smile dropped. “or more than i actually deserve.”

your eyebrows furrowed. as the words left his mouth, you sat down next to him, a folded blanket still in your arms. “what do you mean by that?”

he looked at you. “nothing.”

you eyed him carefully. you were concerned after his words. “chan, why were you in those bushes?”

chan averted his gaze to the blanket in your lap, and then to the floor. his hands were clasped together in his lap. he was silent again, something that you were beginning to hate. after a few silent seconds, you decided to leave him alone. he wasn’t going to be talking, especially if it was about something very personal to him. chan had only known you for a whole twenty-four hours. he was definitely not going to confide in a stranger.

you stood up and set down the blanket on top of the others, giving the top a light pat. “i’ll see you in the morning then.”

he nodded and with that, you left him alone. you felt bad for him. he seemed to happy one second, feeling comfortable around you, and then you go and ask him something and his mood changes as fast as the snap of someone’s fingers. something had happened to him. something painful. something that he didn’t want to think about, let alone talk about. you wanted to know him though. you couldn’t help the curiousness inside you.

you laid in bed that night, staring blankly up at your ceiling, your thoughts drifting over to chan. you wondered if he was lying awake, just as you were. you wondered what he was thinking.

if you were going to get to know chan better, it was going to take time. trust needs to be built  between the both of you. it was a two way street. although you already trusted him enough not to steal your dollar store decorations and cheap jewelry, you wondered when chan was going to trust you.

----

your week off of your busy job soon came to an end. you were a bit sad about it. not because you had to wake up at five, and not because you had to go back to work, but you would be leaving chan home alone. you and him had come closer, past the category of acquaintances. still you were clueless about him. you didn’t want to press anymore questions about him, so you had let things go their own way. you were going to let him stay as long as he needed to, that’s for sure.

you sighed as you lay in your bed, turning on the alarm on your phone. you were practically boring angry holes into your screen.

as you tapped around on your phone some more, you heard a knock on your door. “come in.”

the door opened, revealing chan. he smiled shyly. “you have to go back to work tomorrow, right?”

you nodded, sighing heavily. “unfortunately. having a week long break was heaven.”

chan laughed lightly, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “bet you didn’t expect to spend it with someone like me.”

“i didn’t,” you spoke with a shrug. “but i’m not mad about it. if anything, i enjoyed it more.”

chan nodded. he suppressed a happy smile, but you were able to catch a glimpse of it. perhaps during your week with chan the mysterious stranger, you might have caught feelings for him. he was gorgeous, yes. but he also was kind, respectful, goofy. he wasn’t who you expected when he tumbled out of the bushes, wounded and close to unconsciousness.

“well, good night then.” chan quietly mumbled, turning around with his hand on your doorknob.

before he could close the door, you called his name. he turned back, stepping into your room again.

you felt shy suddenly, and your cheeks flushed. “uh… will you be okay being by yourself?”

he laughed. “of course.”

you nodded, feeling a bit relieved. “good night, chan.”

“good night.” he replied, finally closing the door and leaving you alone.

you felt your heart grow heavy. perhaps you were in love with bang chan.

----

the sound of people typing, fingers practically slamming into keys, phones ringing every hour, all those sounds echoed in your head. your head was already aching painfully. you were rubbing your temples, attempting to make the headache go away, when a voice made you jump in your chair. “y/n.”

you gasped and turned around, finding your cubicle mate, a not-so-close friend of yours. she was the person in the entire office you could tolerate the most. besides, she was nice. “hey, are you okay?”

you nodded. “just a headache.”

she smiled sympathetically. “first day back.”

you smiled and turned back around, trying to get back to work. it was going to be a long day.

----

“chan.” you yelled, your voice growing quieter near the end.

you heard him move around somewhere in the apartment, before he appeared before you. “oh, hey. i didn’t know you got home so late.”

you nodded and sighed. when you looked at him, however, your eyes narrowed. “are you okay?”

he winced. “i tried to work that tv of yours, it didn’t work so well.”

your eyebrows knitted as you walked towards him. “you don’t know how to work a tv?”

he shrugged, not wanting to explain himself. you grabbed the remote from his hand and looked at the tv. it was black and white and was letting out a static sound. how did he manage to do that? you pressed a button on the remote a few times, getting the screen back to netflix. chan seemed surprised by what you had done, and it confused you. “chan, i don’t think i can help myself anymore.”

he looked at you as he sat down on the couch, the remote back in his hand. “what do you mean?”

“where do i even start?” you groaned. “for one, those to wounds on your back, which are now really intimidating scars. two, you practically appearing out of nowhere. and don’t get me wrong, i’m happy to let you stay here, but isn’t your place somewhere else? don’t you have parents or friends that are probably wondering where you are?”

chan’s gaze darkened. you felt guilty for your outburst. but you needed to know who you were providing shelter and food for.

“y/n, i’m not sure i want to tell you.” his voice was quiet and unsure.

you hurriedly sat down next to him, your full attention on him. “why not? is it bad?”

he shrugged. “you probably won’t believe me.” he laughed dryly, “you probably will end up kicking me out.”

your felt your heart break. “i would never do that to you.”

“you hardly know me!” he yelled. he had raised his voice for the first time, and you were taken back, even flinching slightly.

“chan.” you said quietly.

“i’m not from around here, y/n.” he paused. “as in, i’m not from earth.”

your eyebrows furrowed.

“i am, or i was, a guardian angel.” his voice reflected his feelings. you could sense guilt, depression, regret.

“guar-guardian angel?”

he nodded. “i was assigned to a man, a man that needed some guidance in his life. he wasn’t right. he didn’t have a good upbringing, and in the end that led him down a darker path. i was supposed to help him, bring him to the light. of course, it was kinda hard when i wasn’t allowed to formally interact with him. he couldn’t even see me.” he sighed heavily, his voice cracking a bit.

you hesitantly reached out and wrapped your hand around his. as soon as your hand came into contact with his, he held your hand tightly. it comforted him.

“he started to get into trouble, started committing crimes. there’s not a lot i can do there. i could only give him signs to go the other direction, lead the bad parts of him away. but one day, he encountered a secret meeting. someone was buying drugs. and soon after that, he was the one buying drugs. i tried my best to help him, too many times he was close to death, and i would help him, bring him back. but at some point, i just...stopped. i froze.” chan’s voice cracked, a tear left his eye. “he wanted to die. he was suffering as he lived. that one last time, i just let him go.”

you felt your own tears form as you scooted closer to chan, resting your head on his shoulder. you wrapped your arms around his arm. you wanted him to know that you were there for him. you wanted to comfort him as best as you could. “someone found out and i was tossed out of heaven, stripped of my wings, stripped of my abilities. now, i’m just...normal. a normal person that once belonged to a good cause. that’s why i’m here, y/n. i don’t have a home anymore, a place i belong to. i don’t have anyone.”

that was the end of his story.

“i believe you, chan.”

you felt him turn his head, causing you to lift your head off of his shoulder. you looked at him, flashing a small smile. “i believe you.” you repeated.

he was surprised.

“i mean, it kinda makes sense, given the two scars on your back, and how you ended up in those bushes, how hot your skin felt...”

chan nodded, still in disbelief.

“i’m sorry you had to go through that. that was a tough decision, what you had to make. let him go, or keep trying to save him. i’m really sorry, chan.”

a few more tears slipped down his cheeks. you immediately pulled him into a hug. “everything is okay now. and you live here now. you belong here now. this can be your home, if you want it to be. and…” you paused. you voice was barely above a whisper as you said, “and you have me.”

your words made chan freeze. you felt his muscles go rigid as you hugged him. hesitantly, his arms wrapped around you. “you would let me stay here?”

you smiled and nodded. “of course. although, i probably would need to rearrange some things so that i could fit another bed. you can’t continue sleeping on this couch. the living room would become your bedroom, but that’s because this apartment is small because i never expected someone would move in with me. so really that actual bedroom is mine, but you can sleep in the living room. we’ll just turn it into a bedroom.” as you rambled on continuous, chan began to laugh. you knew it would brighten his mood.

you smiled proudly, wiping your last few stray tears. you left chan’s arms. “well, i still have to work, but this weekend we should go shopping for a bed.”

chan nodded, wiping his own tears. “thank you.”

you smiled, your cheeks blushing. “of course.”

----

you huffed as you and chan dropped the full-sized mattress onto the frame. you took a step back and admired your hard work.

chan placed his hands on his hips. he was breathing heavily. “well, you don’t really have a living room anymore.”

“no, we don’t.” you replied, emphasizing the word “we”. chan still hadn’t grasped the concept that he now lived there with you, and therefore could use the terms “our” or “we” instead of “your”. he was so humble.

“well, let’s get your bed made.” you said, opening the bag that had the bedspreads.

chan walked over to you, grabbing the bag because he saw that you were struggling. when you saw that he was helping you, you grabbed the sheets and began to pull. he pulled the bag away from you as you tried to pull the sheets out of the bag. it was hard, but it was finally done...in a rather dramatic way.

“why was that so hard?” you groaned as you unfolded a sheet.

chan shrugged. “i don’t know.”

finally, after a lot of hard struggles, chan’s bed was made. chan officially now lived in your apartment. you smiled proudly. “now the next step is you getting a job. living here isn’t free, chan.”

chan whipped his head around to look at you. his eyes widened. “i beg your pardon? did you forget the fact that i was just tossed out of heaven. my shoulders still ache.” he whined.

you rolled your eyes. “shut up, you big baby. it’s been two weeks.”

chan pouted and feigned pain as he held one of his shoulders. you laughed and turned around to walk into the kitchen. chan, seeing that he efforts were futile, dropped his act and followed you into the kitchen. you were getting a glass of water, and chan was watching you, a happy smile on his face.

you felt his stare on the back of your head. you slowly turned around. “what?”

he didn’t reply.

“you and your silence.” you mumbled, turning back around to drink your water. “you replying to my questions with silence was hardly bearable. if you’re going to keep-”

however you soon felt a presence behind you, causing you to turn around, stopping mid-sentence. your eyes widened with surprise finding chan so close to you. you could feel his body heat. but him being so close to you had effects on you. your breathing hitched, and you felt your face grow hot. your heart began to race at the close distance. “c-chan?”

hesitantly, his hand reached up to cup your cheeks. his hands were warm and soft against your cheeks. you melted into his hands as you began to feel like putty. you blushed, slowly setting down your glass of water. was this moment what you thought it was going to be?

chan’s eyes flickered down to your lips. with reddened cheeks and a seductive smirk, he lowered his face down. and soon he was pressing his lips to yours. yep, this was the moment you thought it was going to be.

you wasted no time in kissing him back. his lips were soft, irresistible. you couldn’t help yourself. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, wanting to deepen the kiss. you quietly moaned. but soon he was pulling away. it was too soon.  

your cheek burned with heat. you resembled a cherry tomato in chan’s eyes.

chan laughed at your reaction. “was i really that good?”

you rolled your eyes and walked around him. you wanted to crawl under the covers now, and scream with joy into a pillow. you also wanted to hide your red face, and slap chan for being so smug. he had turned you into a mess. as you left to escape into your bedroom, you heard chan yell after you, “i might do that again later, if you’re up for it.”

“bang chan!”

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 39 – The Isles of Labyrinth and Sweets

“You know, they say silence is golden regardless of country and era. But I doubt that is the best solution for you right now,” said Muzaka, seated in his throne.

Normally not even a head researcher can find himself before the werewolf lord’s throne. Not unless he happens to be a warrior as well. And not unless he has accomplished something worthy of a proper recognition. And not unless he has committed something terribly wrong.

And unfortunately, Adne was summoned for the lattermost case.

He sabotaged a part essential for bringing QuadraNet to life; at least that is what they could visually deduce.

So Muzaka decided to bring him before the throne for a talk.

Frankenstein was not far away from him, focusing his gaze upon a bald brown-haired werewolf, kneeled and slumped.

“I’m not gonna ask again, so do you mind filling me in now? Just what were you doing there? And how come the network transmission modem is utterly annihilated?”

Muzaka’s voice grew sharper, colder. Not even a toddler would be able to miss that he was basically screaming in Adne’s face that he cannot guarantee they will stick to words if silence continues.

Notwithstanding, Adne kept his mouth shut, making Muzaka sigh in edgy frustration.

And that was when Frankenstein finally spoke.

“I’ll cut right to the point, Dr. Adne. Whose side are you on?”

His manner or purpose of speech was nothing short of a definition of an inquiry. However, Adne’s face rippled with fear and disorder, as if he were demanded to slice his throat and kill himself on the spot.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? You sound like...”

“Forgive me, sir. I know it sounds like I am suspecting your doctor. And yes, I AM suspecting him.”

“How can you say that when I’m right he...”

“I know. It’s not a pleasure to your ears. But think about it. I’m sure you already have an experience with betrayal from within.”

“But you don’t have any evidence that proves Adne did betra...”

“It’d be best to not to rule out any option for now.”

Muzaka’s eyes were brewing complaints at him, but he could not properly file any of them, for Frankenstein did have a point.

“...I...”

Just then a voice as feeble as a dying puppy’s last breath hit the two tall, long-haired, gorgeous men in the eardrums.

“I had to...”

“...I had to?”

“...I had to destroy it.”

Instantly Muzaka and Frankenstein curved their brows in a vicious angle in synchronization.

“...So you deliberately broke the thing?”

“N-no, sir! I mean, yes, I intended to destroy it, but... By the time I got there, I had to make sure that... I, I mean...!”

Muzaka and Frankenstein waited for Adne to coordinate his tongue and brain together, until he clenched his eyelids tightly and groveled.

“My lord. Frankenstein, sir. I know I am asking for an unspeakable, but please, I beg you. We must abort this project!”

“Are you talking about THE project?”

“Yes, sir. We must abort it. The QuadraNet must never spark with life!”

“What are you saying? What is with you today? You never miss your chance to see Frankenstein, since there is so much you can learn from him, you said. But today you left everything for me to handle. And you didn’t give us an exact reason for destroying the modem. And now you’re demanding that we abort the QuadraNet project.”

“My lord, I’m afraid I can’t give you details for now. But please, you must listen to me just this once.”

Adne pled as Frankenstein and Muzaka gaped at him with mystified eyes.

It was as if they were watching the final follower of a tyrant-turning-more-tyrannical to please be the sovereign he is supposed to be.

However, neither of them knew what has gotten into the doctor, so they could only hint questions with their eyes, until Adne said with quivering lips, like a distraught knight about to expose his one-and-only-brother-in-arms-now-a-traitor and save his lord from a planned assassination.

“If you are to continue this project...!”

Right then his throat heaved, and Adne spat out chest-rending coughs, to soon yield dark red vomit.

“Adne!!!”

Muzaka screeched, and Frankenstein lunged forward.

He tore his clothes and blocked Adne’s mouth, before he scooped him up in his arms.

“To the lab! Quick!”

Frankenstein could not fathom what was going on.

‘His physical shift occurred too fast, too extreme to be a threat or a suicidal attempt. And talk about the rate at which his blood exploded from within. If he were a human, he would’ve lost a good amount of his guts. In other words, what could set off such a reaction from a werewolf?’

Alas, he was not allowed time to think.

He had to give orders to the researchers upon reaching the lab.

And decide it would be best for him to look after Adne himself.

And diagnose that there is no telling when Adne will wake up, after laying him in the ward.

Frankenstein, along with Muzaka, could only replay in his head what he had witnessed.

‘Is it just me, or are things taking a weird turn ever since we started the QuadraNet project?’

Frankenstein lamented inaudibly, tracing his forehead with his fingers while no one was watching.

Union invasion on wolfkind.

The mysterious behavior of the Man in the Iron Mask on the werewolf realm.

Postponement of QuadraNet’s activation, for a reason nobody knows yet.

And now Adne’s mysterious state.

Frankenstein felt as if he were trapped in the isle of labyrinth, running circles in a trail without an exit.

*****

Meanwhile...

Pow!!!

Bam!!!

A man resembling a toad injected with tons of steroids was flung into the air, his feet completely removed from the ground.

His body arched in the exact same posture when he was punched in the abdomen, he thoroughly shattered the wall on the other side.

“I dare you to say that again.”

Growled the one who threw him in the air with a single blow, her heels clicking towards him.

In the meantime, he was rolling his eyes as if he had no idea what he ever did wrong.

Nevertheless, he could clearly see that the rest of his day would be hell if he does not appear remorseful, so Kornel lowered his head in a reply.

“I... I found Yuigi of Cerberus hidden among civilians by chance, so... I decided to take her with me, and...”

“Nobody ever asked you to do that! I never told you to do that! I told you to simply stand guard on the area!”

“But it was an opportunity no one among us would want to mi...!”

“A human head is more than just a concoction of calcium, proteins, and nucleic acid. I told you to avoid skirmish in that country! We should be most wary of that place, not Lukedonia, not the werewolves! That’s where the ones who killed Crombel are stationed! I told you a number of times that you should really watch yourself in Korea!”

Kornel zipped his lips and merely stared at her.

“And since Yuigi was living in hiding among civilians, I’m sure you had to raise more than a clash at such time and place. I sent you there to monitor how the honey that will fill our jar ripens, but instead you ended up setting fire on the hive that should provide us with the honey.”

Helga glared at him, as if she wished to punch him again.

‘My so-called accomplice suddenly lost contact, which bothers me enough, and then this ally of mine just had to...!’

Helga raised her voice again, feeling how her annoyance was throwing a fit inside her.

“You should be grateful that we are in deadly need of manpower right now. Otherwise I would have officially terminated you instead of pummeling you into a wall!”

Kornel strained his forehead and corners of lips, feeling gravely offended by her words.

Helga did not even look at him as she spoke again.

“So what do you have?”

“Uh... Say that again?”

“I’m starting to think perhaps your ears are there just because you are short of facial skin. You said you fought Yuigi yourself. So, what do you have to tell me?”

“Uh...”

“And don’t get me wrong. I’m not forgiving you. Since you upset a hive, we need to figure out everything about its occupants – their species, numbers, and the degree of irritation. So, what do you have?”

Helga was now surprisingly calm, to Kornel’s mild disturbance. Yet he did not fail her in giving everything he had seen and heard ever since he first confronted Yuigi, until Takio made him go away.

Helga shooed him away at the end of the briefing, and she tapped her chin with her fingers in interest.

‘So Yuigi’s grown weaker. And it’s apparently because of this choker she is wearing. At least there’s no doubt they don’t trust her. And I wouldn’t expect her to be on good terms with them.’

Helga was already beginning to brainstorm ideas to bring Yuigi back to them.

She did not care at all about the mechanism of the choker Yuigi was chained to, since power-controlling apparatus is common in Union as well.

She already knew that this human named Frankenstein was a researcher gifted enough to come up with a rein of his own.

She also knew that the modified humans under his leadership – Takio and Tao, once classified as DA-5, and M-21, the one Crombel used to be keenly fascinated with – are now strong enough to fare against the elders of the Union.

It was all thanks to the intelligence from her accomplice.

And then she was reminded of the fact her connection to him was abruptly lost.

‘Did he decide to turn his back? Not that I didn’t think of such scenario.’

Helga remembered the day when she first met him.

She was slightly caught off guard at how a mere researcher, not at all familiar or affiliated with warfare, dared to make a deal with her.

She recalled the condition from her accomplice and grinned; it was a grin devoid of entertainment or marvel, full of sneer and disdain.

Right then, an alarm drew her attention. It was not the one she was waiting for, but it was a sound worthy of her time – a sound signaling her new VIP’s incoming transmission.

And the said VIP very successfully flipped the table of mood for her.

“You’ve done well, sir. Very well. I’ll leave that part to you.”

Helga was now outwardly beaming as she finished the transmission.

“I’d thought I had merely found bread crumbles to the house of sweets when I learned Yuigi is alive. But looks like the crumbles were actually a ticket for the cruise to the isle of sweets, tasting like vengeance and retaliation. Now let’s get ready to climb aboard, shall we?”

She relocated herself to the lab and found the man she was looking for, who was seemingly in need of a task or two.

“Sol, we have a work to do.”

(next chapter)

I just realized that for chapters featuring Helga, her lines tend to turn more eloquent than other characters’ lines. Such metaphorically stylized manner of speech would be more appropriate for Rai or Lascrea, but unfortunately neither of them are talkers. And most importantly, they are hardly given lines in my fic. :’( Although I’m the one who didn’t allocate much spotlight for them, I wish to see them soon in future chapters lol

[suneatersupportsquad]

feel better, baby

plot :: you are released from the hospital after going through surgery and losing a kidney. later, the boys sleep in your room to look after you if you need anything. also, since you are completely delirious, they are there to make sure you don’t do anything completely stupid or accidentally hurt yourself. later that night, the pain killers start to wear off and dean wakes to help you fall back asleep. relationship :: semi-romantic reader gender :: any fandom :: supernatural character :: dean winchester notes :: lowercase intended gif creds :: google WARNINGS :: fluff, slight dissociation, slight delirium note :: Y/P means your pronoun     for example, “if he can’t take his meds until later/if she can’t take her meds until later/if they can’t take their meds until later/etc.”

your last hunt, tracking down a disturbingly active windego, had left you down one kidney and a week spent in the hospital. thankfully, your surgeon had been able to remove what was left of the organ and patch it up quite well, also making sure that all of the surrounding tissue was not affected by nerve or muscle-tissue damage from the attack. after the operation, your observation period was the short span of two days and then you were free to do as you pleased. of course, the boys got you discharged as soon as possible and you realized had never been happier to see the inside of a crappy, old hotel room before. the deep red that coated the walls provided a nice contrast to the white, extremely sterile hospital walls she had been forced to stare at the week prior. the carpet, too, was an ugly - yet satisfying - gold and red shifting pattern of poorly embroidered leaves and flowers. unfortunately, you were too dissociated and drugged to be grateful for the change in scenery. as the hold of your medication grew stronger and stronger, your grip on the ability to tell the difference between real and hallucination began to slip. “and we’re home, Y/N!” dean exclaimed loudly as he struggled to push your wheelchair past the threshold. “you’re really loud,” you mumbled, covering your ears in an almost child-like manner. “sorry,” he apologized, softer this time as he pushed you to your room, which was joined with theirs. “sammy, my tummy feels funny,” you commented loudly, resting your hands on your belly before sam gently pulled your arms away. “doctor bradley said not to touch, remember?” the youngest Winchester brother reminded her, going back to close the door. “man, doctor bradley was sooooo weird,” you slurred, your head lolling to one side. “maybe it’s because you were all hocked up on drugs,” dean suggested. you let your head fall back to look at him. “i was?” the oldest of you laughed. “yeah, you were” “ohhhh”

“come on; you have to eat, Y/N,” sam commented, shoveling a bundle of noodles into his mouth. “i’m really trying, sam,” you insisted, your eyelids heavy as you pinched at your chow mein (which was now cold) with your chopsticks. “i can’t-” you sighed in frustration, tears brimming your eyes as you dropped the chopsticks; your medication had been messing with your hormones. “want me to get you a fork?” he suggested, resting his elbows on the table. “no” you moaned, barely aware of what was happening as you swayed slightly. “i could feed you?” the proposition was awkward but it would have been functional and kept from making a mess. “no,” you whined, earning an irritated sigh from both boys.

it took a while but, as your meds began to wear off little by little, you began to gain more and more control of your actions and the container of chow mein was finished. after a while of mindlessly watching tv, it was time for bed. “why do i have to go to bed again?” you asked, making a vain attempt to quite literally roll out of bed as dean tried to tuck you in. “because humans have to sleep, Y/N,” sam answered, laughing softly as he parked the wheelchair in the corner of the room. “yeah, well, i don’t wanna,” you mumbled, trying to sit up. dean pushed you back down, giving you a stern look. “Y/N. sleep. now” “fine,” you mumbled, lying down with crossed arms. “you friggin killjoy, never wants to start the party. always so serious.” “just because you’re muttering doesn’t mean i can’t hear you,” the oldest of you explained, forcefully pushing the covers over you. you stuck your tongue out at him and he returned the gesture, you both laughing softly afterwards at your childish actions.

it took a while but your bored silence and the sound of the boys staying up late into the night, nursing half-full, lukewarm cups of poorly brewed motel coffee as they spoke about random and slightly personal things lulled you to sleep. the drugs gave you some interesting dreams, to say the least, but nothing crazy. for the most part, you dreamt about the monsters you hunted frequently, but other dreams were based off your experiences with the two winchester boys. you tossed and turned throughout the night, although it was occasional and not restless, your movements lightly tugging at the stitches that bound your suture shut. your night was interesting. you were asleep and dreaming but you could still here the boys’ conversation and feel everything that made contact with your skin - you could even smell the rapidly-cooling coffee left over in the other room. once the boys finished off their coffee and finally fell asleep, the night felt endless.

you hadn’t noticed your semi-consciousness slip away until you bolted up into a sitting position, your mouth dry from your deep sleep. the digital clock on the night stand blinked a red ‘2:48AM.’ you brushed your tangled hair back and looked around, trying to make sense of things. you were in pain; your brain told you that much but your nerves hadn’t fully registered the fact. “hurt,” you mouthed into the darkness, trying to remember how to speak properly. you fumbled for something on the nightstand but didn’t understand what you were looking for until your hand nudged the clock. realizing the senselessness of your actions, you stopped, retracting your hand back to your chest. as you let yourself fall back against the mattress, you felt the stitches stretch. crying out in pain, your hand flew to your side. as the material of your shirt dragged across the black thread, the end of it caught on the thick material, causing another jolt of pain. “dean,” you croaked, reaching out to touch the oldest of the brothers but, instead, accidentally knocking over the alarm clock. that definitely woke up the two boys as they jolted forwards. “hurts,” was all you managed to get out as you relaxed your muscles. sam fished his phone out of his back pocket, handing it to dean before rushing to your aid. “call doctor bradley,” he instructed, kneeling by the edge of the bed.

“sorry, Y/N. i wish i could give you more pain killers but you can’t take them again until 10,” sam apologized, helping you to lay flat on your back as he pulled the covers off of you a bit. you grunted in pain at the changed in position but somehow managed to keep yourself together; the pain seemed to be getting worse by the second as you registered the empty feeling in your abdomen. dean gazed suspiciously at the cell phone in his hand before his eyes flicked up to watch the scene before him. “sam, what happened? i’m missing something - in my stomach - something’s gone! i don’t remember - what happened? i-” you started rambling, your mouth moving a mile a minute as question after question spilled past your lips. “Y/N, the windego attacked you and you lost a kidney, but you’re fine. okay? you’re all right. you’re not dying. you’re fine,” the brunet boy explained calmly to you, realizing that your drugs had fully worn off and that you hadn’t really been aware of the situation at hand before your sobriety. you nodded in understanding, your eyes flickering about the room as you tried to process the information and also calm your hyperventilating. you suddenly lurched forward, another jolt of pain causing you to flinch. the action gave a sharp, swift tug to your stitches and you felt your skin tear slightly. a string of curses left your mouth once more as he helped you to lay down again. once you had stopped moving radically, the pain became more intense and you couldn’t even tell what you were saying anymore. the nerve endings surrounding the suture burned so hot that you couldn’t decipher between tears or muscle twitches on your face. “i’m not calling the doctor,” dean announced, setting sam’s cell phone down on the nightstand. “what the hell dean? call the doctor” “no. if Y/P can’t take Y/P meds until later, with how strong they are, what more can they do for Y/P?” dean explained, leaning forward. sam seemed to consider the idea and didn’t protest, but also didn’t agree. with some sort of silent exchange between the two winchesters, who both ignored the whines and moans of agony coming from you, sam sat back in his chair and dean took charge, wiping a few stray tears from your cheek with his thumb. “Y/P’ll be fine. (he’s/ she’s/ they’re/ etc.) a tough kid, right?” you nodded, grunting in agreement before allowing your head to fall back and groaning in pain. dean frowned, turning the light off and swiftly climbing in bed with you, pulling you against his chest. “you’re fine, sweetheart. you’ll be just fine,” he repeated over and over again, holding you close and lulling you to sleep. before you lost your hold on consciousness, you felt his rough lips press against your forehead. “i know you can pull through this. feel better, baby”

[sentrava]

How Having LASIK Surgery Changed My Travel Life

If I added up the amount of time I spent fooling with my eyes for a good 15 years, I’d probably gain a solid few months back. But then I had LASIK 10 years ago next month, and my travel life completely changed for the better.

So when the American Refractive Surgery Council came to us and asked me to share my story about my own vision correction procedure, I jumped on it; after all, I’m constantly coaching friends and hand-holding fellow bloggers through their own LASIK journeys, so it seemed about time to share mine.

This post is sponsored by the American Refractive Surgery Council (ARSC). All LASIK-related procedures and costs incurred were my own.

I was just nine years old when my optometrist diagnosed me as near-sighted. I was given glasses with pink frames but never wore them because what fourth-grader wants to be singled out as “that geek” in class? (That probably wasn’t the actual case, but that’s what my nine-year-old self unjustly thought.)

I managed to “lose” my glasses, so the following year, my mom allowed me to switch to soft contact lenses, which weren’t awful but still inconvenient at best, particularly as I was just in the fifth grade. They would get folded going in, or worse, tear; I’d blink and they’d fall out. Sometimes, it would take me 15 minutes to get both of them in place properly, by which point my eyes were inflamed and irritated. From the time I could walk, I played every sport imaginable on a competitive level, so I’d be in South Carolina on the softball field when a torpedo of dust would cloud my vision and get stuck to my lens or at a basketball tournament in Atlanta when a post would come down on a rebound and elbow me in the eye, knocking out my contact. For an active kid, neither contacts or glasses were an ideal option.

I was in middle school when my doctor put me on a medical trial: corrective hard lenses that reshaped my cornea and were described to me as “braces for my eyes.” The premise was that, eventually, I’d be able to just wear them at night and then go all day without them. This was a temporary solution, but not a long-term fix, so it’s no surprise that two decades later, this type of care has long been overshadowed by advanced refractive surgical procedures. There would be nights I wouldn’t sleep great, and I’d wake up with subpar vision. A time or two I even scratched my cornea, meaning I had to go a few days without wearing the corrective lenses, and I was basically back to blind.

All that to say, from ages nine into my 20s, my life revolved around how my eyes decided to behave on that given day. It was mildly inconvenient as a teen, but then became downright unbearable when I started traveling for a living.

My mom had always encouraged me to pursue LASIK—after all, the success rate is astounding—and I started seriously considering it after graduating college. My roommate underwent it during our senior year, and I saw how easy and painless it was. I wanted to wake up with perfect vision, too—assuming I was a candidate, that is. But then I went to live abroad for a year, a year plagued with an eyelid infection that meant I couldn’t wear any kind of contacts, period, and the idea got pushed further back on the calendar. When I returned, I started seeing my optometrist every few weeks to make sure my vision wasn’t regressing. She made me forgo the hard lenses for six months to make sure my vision was truly stable before she could determine I was a candidate. She gave me the preliminary go-ahead, but ultimately my ophthalmologist in Nashville would have to make that call.

So at 24, I made an appointment to have advanced refractive surgery.

In those months leading up to it, contact lenses were prohibited, so I reverted to wearing glasses for the first time since I was a kid, and while I didn’t hate it, it was definitely a pain when I was partaking in some of my favorite activities like running or diving; I basically had to do both semi-blind. I had never been so ready to go into a procedure in my life.

I was pumped, but also mildly terrified. I read all the information about LASIK I could find in preparation. I’d never actually had surgery; in fact, I hadn’t so much as spent a night in the hospital (still haven’t at 34). I flew back to Tennessee for the week to see our family ophthalmologist has done tens of thousands of LASIK procedures in Nashville, and I wanted to go to someone with whom I was comfortable. After seeing him for pre-op, my nerves abated some; this was no big deal, he told me, and the surgery wouldn’t take more than 20 minutes.

Twenty minutes to give me the gift of unassisted, perfect vision for the first time in my adult life? I couldn’t even fathom that.

I arrived at my pre-op hoping and praying that I would, indeed, be a candidate for LASIK/PRK. You see, many factors play a part: age (24), strength of prescription (-2.5), pupil size (massive), dry eye condition (check), strength of cornea (good). The pupil size was the main concern, as mine are 10mm, no matter how dark or light the environment. If you don’t know how big that is in eye terms, let me just tell you that’s likely three times your pupils’ size, and it causes me a lot of distress (halos, glare, people always thinking I’m on drugs, etc.). Luckily, there was a type of LASIK for me: one that accounts for this, custom-treating each spot of the eye, so after a two-hour consult, in which I likely met with five different professionals, I was cleared to go. My surgery would be the following morning.

On the day of my procedure, my mom accompanied me to the surgeon’s office. Nirvana was playing in the background, I was given a red stuffed bear to squeeze if I got nervous. It was nothing like the serious surgery environment I envisioned. My surgeon first numbed my eyes with drops, then laid me on the table and put the first speculum in my eye. While not painful, this was the only truly uncomfortable part of the procedure. You can’t blink, and suddenly you feel the overwhelming need to do so, like your entire fate hinges on your ability to blink at that given moment.

Then they made an incision and the lights went out.

Luckily, I had been forewarned that I would lose vision for 20 seconds. It still didn’t make it any less scary. But it promptly returned, just as I’d been assured, and the red light of the laser came on. I was to stare directly at it, trying not to flinch. There was a crackling sound, and it smelled of burnt hair. I could feel pressure on my eye, but still no pain. And then that was it. Dr. Shofner repeated the procedure on the other eye, which was far less daunting as I now knew what to expect, and less than 20 minutes after I entered the room, I walked back out, only with perfect vision.

It was so quick and easy. Why didn’t I do this sooner, I thought? More so, why doesn’t everyone do this?

There was zero pain throughout the whole process and very little recovery time (I was told to rest my eyes that afternoon to give my corneas time to heal and sleep in protective goggles for the coming week); I woke up the following morning as if nothing had ever happened and went surfing in Barbados just a few days later.

These days, my vision is still 20/15, a decade after I had the procedure. It’s hard to believe that my life once revolved around how my eyes were behaving that day, and now I don’t have to think twice about that.

In that decade, I’ve gone diving in more than 20 countries. I sailed around the world for four months, something that would have been a massive pain had I had to store four months’ worth of daily lenses and contact solution in the compact two bags I took with me for a circumnavigation. I’ve trekked in the jungle of rural India and the bush of South Africa, without worrying about the fact I was hundreds of miles from a pharmacy and wouldn’t need to buy emergency supplies to deal with my contacts.

Around the time of my surgery, I started running marathons; I’ve since scaled back to half-marathons, but I log a good hour on the trails several days a week and I never worry about pollen getting into my eyes and irritating my lens. In winter months, we like to ski. There’s no annoyance of trying to fit glasses under my goggles or wondering if my contacts might freeze in the extreme cold.

Heck, I love the beach more than anywhere else on the planet. Growing up vacationing on Florida’s Gulf Coast, I’d have to remove my contacts just to take a dip in the ocean for fear of a wave knocking out my lens; nowadays, I can dive in on a whim if the water looks inviting without so much as a second thought. The ways LASIK has benefited my travel life are countless.

That said, I never take for granted how I can wake up and see the clock beside my bed without fumbling to press lenses into my eyes. I travel with friends who are forever dealing with the nuisance of contacts—one of my frequent travel companions who came to visit this summer complained about a lingering eye condition that had her going to the emergency doctor more than a dozen times this year—and I’m grateful that’s no longer my norm.

I run, I dive, I sit in front of my computer for days on end, eyes glued to the screen, I sit on planes for 16-hour flights—and I never have to stomach the hassle of glasses or contacts. And I have no doubt that in the years since I underwent LASIK, it’s become even easier, if that’s possible, as the technology progresses. Have I convinced you yet? It is, in a sense, the best thing you could do for yourself.

Have you ever undergone any type of corrective surgery? If so, please share your story in the comments below!

  PIN IT HERE

How Having LASIK Surgery Changed My Travel Life published first on http://ift.tt/2gOZF1v