#i always knew i wanted to be a doctor and to work in research
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dreamymoomin · 5 months ago
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Feeling very emotional in the library today. I can't believe I hand in 4 years of my life tomorrow, it's like saying goodbye to a huge chapter of my life, a collection of very happy and very sad times. I will have finished 8 years of education, all culminating in the title Dr.
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endusviolence · 8 months ago
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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
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[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
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reidrum · 2 months ago
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you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.
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A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽
summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you
wc: a short n sweet 1k
cw: none, tooth rotting fluff
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With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.
You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.
There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.
He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”
He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”
“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“
The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”
Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.
A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”
His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”
You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”
You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.
Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.
He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.
But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.
“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”
“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“
“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”
Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”
He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”
It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.
“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.
Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.
“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.
His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes.”
“And why is that?”
“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”
Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”
You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”
“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”
A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”
The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.
But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.
“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.
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milkloafy · 6 months ago
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THE GENERAL GETS HURT — JIYAN
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⋆。˚ ❀ summary: in which jiyan overexerts himself in battle and you come rushing to the borderlands to make sure he’s okay. ⋆。˚ ❀ contents: 16+, fluff ⋆。˚ ❀ wc: 1.0k ⋆。˚ ❀ a/n: yk that one tweet that headcanons their tacet marks to be sensitive? yeah. :> my little tribute to jiyan in hopes of getting him soon,, good luck to anyone wishing for him who also still doesn’t have him </3
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It wasn’t always easy having a general as a partner. Long nights without him, not seeing him up to months on end, having to wait until the end of the day for him to call you saying he is safe and healthy. 
It especially wasn’t easy when one night, you didn’t get your usual call from him. And it was even more difficult when you received a call from the lieutenant informing you that Jiyan almost collapsed on the field after a hard-won battle from severe Forte overexertion.  
You found yourself rushing over from the safety of Jinzhou to the dangers of the Borderland. You weren’t a solider or a Resonator yourself. In fact, you worked in research for the development of medicine and occasionally helped Jiyan’s mother out in her practice. For that reason, Jiyan preferred if you did not show up unannounced— He always wanted to take proper steps to ensure your safety when you visited. 
But given the circumstances, you were sure he would understand. 
“Where is he?” you called, breathless from rushing over here. “Is he okay?”
The lieutenant nodded at you. “Commander Jiyan is doing better now. You can find him in his quarters.”
“Thank you!” 
You just about ran over to the General’s quarters to see him for yourself. When you entered the room, you saw him half-sitting, half-laying on his bed as he massaged the back of his neck. 
“Jiyan,” you cried, relieved to see he was upright and kicking. Giving him a once over to do a quick check of any physical ailments, you sighed. “You’re alive.”
If he was surprised to see you here, he certainly didn’t show it. Jiyan greeted you with a chuckle as you walked over to him. “Of course I’m alive. I wouldn’t just leave you behind like that.”
“Yet you almost did!” you scolded, taking a seat next to him and immediately looking at the back of his neck. “Look, your Tacet mark is still hurting you. You’re even rubbing your nape.”
“It no longer hurts,” he assured, bringing his hand down to his side. “It’s only a little sore. But I thank you for coming here, and I’m sorry for worrying you.” 
Jiyan wrapped an harm around you and brought you close to him. You leaned against his shoulder and he planted a kiss on your forehead. 
“I promise, I’m okay,” he said, rubbing soothing circles into your arm. “However, if you would like to massage my sore neck, I wouldn’t be opposed.” 
You grinned, slipping off from his bed and gesturing for him to lie down on his stomach. Once he turned over, you hopped up on the mattress and draped your legs on either side of him.
At the feeling of your weight on his lower back, Jiyan stirred. 
“I don’t believe the door was locked,” he stated, almost in warning. 
“I’m only giving you a massage,” you said innocently. “Tending to your injury, even.”
“This is certainly against the code of conduct for medical professionals,” he quipped back, teasing you. “Doctors should not treat their patients in such a way.”
However, the moment your hands found their way to his upper back, around his Tacet mark, he no longer made any remarks. You rubbed gentle, yet firm, circles on the nape of his neck, being careful not to touch his sensitive mark. Thankfully, it was no longer flickering or showing signs of overexertion, but you knew the after-effects were likely lingering still. 
As your hands ran across the smoothness of his muscular body, you felt him stir underneath you once more. You giggled at his response and leaned forward onto him, placing an airy kiss on his Tacet mark. Jiyan shivered at the light touch to one of his most sensitive areas.
“Are you okay down there?” you asked playfully. “Should I get off now?”
“No, please continue your treatment,” he said without hesitation.
You laughed and went on with your massage, not stopping at his neck and shoulders, but instead placing your hands on the small of his back to get rid of any knots as well. 
Once Jiyan felt his muscles loosen up from your treatment, he nodded in contentment and rolled his shoulders back. Before you could fully get yourself off him, he turned himself over and grabbed your thighs so you stayed straddling his waist. 
“Thank you for the massage,” said Jiyan, bringing his arms around your back to pull you down onto him. 
“Anything for General Jiyan,” you teased, kissing his nose as you hovered over him. “But please, try not to overexert yourself that much next time.”
“I know if I do, you’ll come up with the cure for it somehow.” 
“I would and not share it with you as your punishment,” you scowled. 
Jiyan laughed, sitting up on the bed, your legs still around him as he held you by the waist. “I will be careful, I promise you. Now, let’s make sure the door is locked so I can properly express my gratitude for your massage, and my apologies for making you worry.” 
You grinned as you locked your arms around his neck. He managed to get off the bed with you clinging onto him. With his hands under your thighs to prevent you from slipping, he walked over to the door of his quarters and locked it.
Once your privacy was secured, Jiyan pressed your back against the door and kissed the side of your neck. You squealed at the sudden touch and you felt him grin against your skin. 
“I will accept the gratitude and apology rewards now, General,” you declared, holding your head high. 
“Good,” he said, voice low and inviting. “I have a lot of gratitude to show you.”
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moonstruckme · 2 months ago
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What if you wrote something with like... Poly EMT marauders or poly doctor marauders.. with a reader who is a type 1 diabetic, but is horrible at managing it. So like... Their omnipod or dexcom expires and they just don't realize it. As to why? Idk, like they're forgetful or maybe they were just diagnosed with it recently? Whatever sounds more interesting to you lmao
Thanks for requesting! Funnily enough I got this request the same week my uncle was in the icu with a blood sugar of over 1000 (the highest the paramedics said they'd ever seen!) so this was one of the only emt marauders drabbles I've ever done where I didn't actually have to do a bunch of research because I already knew about it haha
cw: diabetes, reader is impaired/faint, mention of needle
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 628 words
The television blurs in front of you. You have the vague impression that you used to know what was happening in this show, but now you can hardly tell one character from another. A hand touches your face, sweeping hair away from your eyes and scratching nicely at your scalp. 
“Getting tired, dove?” 
You hum. 
“Want to go to bed early?” 
“I think I could sleep here on the couch,” you admit. 
For a moment, there’s no reply. You feel the couch shift, and then a hand is gently turning your chin, directing you towards three concerned faces. It always makes you shy, being at the center of their combined attention, but right now the usual effects don’t feel as intense. 
“Are you feeling okay?” James asks you. 
“Yeah, I’m just tired.”
Later, you’ll learn you’d been slurring terribly. 
“Where’s your phone, baby?” Sirius starts looking for it as you try to recall. He finds it before you can, clicking it open and tapping at the screen until he finds what he’s looking for. “Her blood sugar’s at 300.” 
Remus’ brows push close together. “How’d that happen, hm?” he asks you. The sleeve of your pajama top gets pushed down. “Where’s your pod?” 
You blink, working hard to remember. Sirius gets up from the couch. “It’s…I don’t know. It expired,” you say. 
You hear the sound of the freezer opening, and a shrill beeping fills your kitchen. “Found it,” says Sirius. 
“Fucking hell, you’ve got to stop putting it in there.” Remus sighs, though you don’t think he’s really angry with you. “I heard it earlier, but I thought I was going mental.” 
“Sweetheart, why didn’t you get a new one when that one expired?” James asks. He rubs your calf from further down the couch, infinite in both sweetness and patience. 
“I was going to. I forgot.” You’d gotten distracted with something or other, dishes that needed to be done or something outside the window or an attention-deprived Sirius calling you from the next room. 
“You can’t just forget, silly girl.” Sirius gives your knee a mean (loving) squeeze as he sits down again. He sets a new omnipod on the table, filling it expertly with a syringe of insulin. 
“Do you have a swab?” Remus asks, and Sirius hums, passing him one. “Thanks.” 
Remus cleans off your arm, using one hand to ensure you’re still while Sirius gently presses the new omnipod to your skin. He runs his fingers around the adhesive a few times for good measure. 
“4 units, yeah?” James asks, thumbing something into your app after the others agree. You wince when you feel the needle, still not used to it, and he makes a sorry sound. Presses a conciliatory kiss to your knee. 
“There you go, babylove.” Remus sits back against the couch cushions, a tension you hadn’t noticed before dissipating from him. His hand finds your hair, carding through the strands close to your scalp. “You’ve gotta start taking better care of yourself. We can help if you want us to, but this is important, yeah?” 
“I know,” you sigh, leaning against his shoulder. “Sorry, I just forget.” 
“We’ll help you remember,” James offers in his easy way. 
Sirius nudges both you and Remus over so he can squish in on your other side. “Can’t believe we were about to go to bed with you sky high.” He pokes your thigh. “That wouldn’t have been very nice to wake up to tomorrow.” 
Your heart heavies, thinking of your boyfriends panicking and you nearly comatose in bed the next morning. “I’m sorry,” you say again, meaning it. 
“It’s alright, dove.” Remus drops a kiss to your hair. “We don’t mind taking care of you. We’ll help you get the hang of it.”
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dottowos · 20 days ago
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desiderium.
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synopsis: Omega desires you in ways he cannot have you, so he has to make do with what he’s given.
includes: dottore (omega) w/ fem! reader
notes: Omega touches himself while fantasizing about you - so none of this actually happens, he just really wishes it would. Established relationship, oral (reader receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, lots of teasing, posessiveness, he makes you beg and cry, he's a lil freak tbh, reader uses no pronouns, mdni (tell me if I should add anything.)
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It wasn’t really a secret that you were the object of the Second Harbinger’s affections. Frequently it would be witnessed by shocked agents the depth of attention you were given by not only the Doctor himself, but also his segments. Hell, you were the only one who could ever interrupt their experiments!
If you asked the Omega segment, there were numerous reasons he could list as to why he found you so endearing. First, your mind was ever so interesting. He loved to pick at it, discover new ways to make you tick or blush. Not to mention how he loved to do research with you. Your perspectives could be quite helpful, especially when compared to the agents who feared opening their mouths.
Moving on, he loved your expressions too. When your eyes crinkled gently, full of love, and when a great smile stretched across your face. Or when you were pouty and ignoring him because he didn’t give you enough attention, though he always knew how to get back on your good side. And your voice, it was refreshing to hear after ungodly hours spent in a lab.
And you - you in general, you were attractive. He had only seen you nude a few times, but he had every spot and curve of your perfect body mapped out and memorized in his mind. Sadly, it was more of a see, don’t touch situation.
It was evident only Prime Dottore had that opportunity. 
Your… nightly activities with Dottore were rather obvious to the other segments. There weren’t many explanations for why you would walk around the lab the next day a bit sore with numerous marks around your neck, despite your attempts to cover it up. Prime didn’t need to say anything - his message was clear.
Still, that didn’t stop Omega from desiring you. This was one such moment he found himself fantasizing about you. He had been working continuously for a long time and hadn’t seen you much, so this was a much-needed moment of respite. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair and began to palm himself. 
Omega knew you’d feel just as good as you looked - his hands twitched, trying to imagine your skin against his, and so did his cock. He made quick work of his zipper as he imagined how you’d look under him, a common scenario.
He had always wondered how you’d act. There were so many possibilities he could think of, all of which sent a thrill throughout his body. Knowing you, you’d probably be shy about it. 
“Omega,” you whined, as your hands half-heartedly tried to stop him from undressing you, embarrassed by his forwardness. For some reason, you didn’t think he’d want you in this way too. “A-Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he purred, intent on seeing you laid bare and all needy for him, his hands already set on squeezing and playing with your soft breasts as you softly moaned. He had only ever heard such cute noises in his head, unfortunately. But he would continue to draw them out for as long as he could, mercilessly teasing you and refusing to touch you where you really wanted him to.
But regardless, all of these scenarios ended with you obediently taking his cock. However, as much as he wanted to be inside of you, he couldn’t forget about how much he wanted to taste you. Yes, your taste, he thought as he licked his lips and pumped himself again. 
“Ah, ‘Mega, please…” your breath hitched as he experimentally rubbed his finger over your clothed cunt, your wetness seeping through, “don’t tease,” you fruitlessly demanded as he ignored your plea. Omega would take his time with you, savor your sweetness like he would with one of your baked treats. He was a very patient man after all. (You? Not so much, but you would have to deal with it.)
Eventually, he would slip a finger, and then another, and then one more inside your aching pussy and hold you down as your back arched, pinning your hands above your head as you were insistent on trying to cover your mouth. Your moans were one of the loudest and most accurate proofs of the effect he had on you, and he refused to let them be silenced.
“Now, now, what did I say about that? Try to do that again and I’ll stop.” You could only let out another choked moan and look at him helplessly as he curled his fingers inside of you, and then sped up his pace until you finally finished all over his hand. It was almost filthy how he began to suck and lick on his own fingers that were drenched in your essence, concentrating on tasting every last drop. You wanted to look away out of embarrassment, but you were entranced by the scene, probably because it was just that hot.
Of course, that would only be the beginning of it. There was no way he would be satisfied with just that. Barely giving you a chance to recover, he pried your legs open further to lick and suck at your cunt, relishing in how your thighs squeezed around him - he’d make sure to mark them up some more later. Your hand was tangled in his hair, alternating between trying to push him away from coming too much or pushing him further down on your needy pussy. He didn’t care, either way, your juices would be smeared around his lips as he made sure to lick it all up. By the time he was done with you, you’d be struggling to even call out his name, eyes hazy and too far gone.
As Omega thought about you more, he stroked himself faster until he was almost close. But he had yet to bury himself inside your tight cunt. 
It was all too easy to tease you, reveling in how your eyes darted around nervously at the sight of him pumping himself as he prepared to enter you. You licked your lips and swallowed as you briefly wondered how you’d take him. Ah… your mouth too… Omega decided he could brush his cock against your supple lips another day.  
The segment nudged his tip leaking pre-cum against your cunt, on the verge of slipping in until he pulled out just at the right moment, teasing you as he delighted in your frustration. He would only ever give you what you wanted if you begged for it, his favorite subject.
“Use your words, darling.” You gripped the sheets harder at his stupid insistence.
“P-Please… please, I want- need you inside, Omega,” your plea came out as a ragged breath, desperately needing some relief already. Unfortunately, your lover only hummed, seemingly unsatisfied with your response, and continued to hold your thighs steady, still pressing himself against your pussy. You huffed in slight irritation. 
“Please Omega, just fuck me already,” your words came out speedy and rushed as you sniffed, a tear rolling down your face at how intently he was staring at you with his singular red gem. Finally, a content grin appeared on his face now that he had gotten what he wanted. Perhaps there was still some work to be done, but now even his patience was wearing thin, especially when you had declared your neediness for him so blatantly.
Lining himself up with your entrance, Omega began to push himself in slowly, wanting to drag out both your and his pleasure, and also having the uncharacteristic consideration to make sure you weren’t too overwhelmed. Your walls fit snugly around him, offering him pleasure that he could have never reached by himself. Your legs were hooked around him, tightening as he finally buried himself completely in you.
“Omega… Omega…” you breathed out his name, adjusting to the sensation of being filled with his cock. You moved your hand to intertwine with his (because of course you did, you were too sweet for your own good) and he quickly did so, locking his fingers with yours. Pulling back out, he moved to kiss you which you reciprocated, before slamming back in, your scream muffled by his lips on yours. From then, he pounded into you without mercy, making sure to give every other part of your body attention too, from licking your tears to sucking and nipping at your breasts.
From the way your nails harshly dug into his back, he could tell you were close. He knew his mind couldn’t sufficiently replicate how lovely you’d look once you came on his cock, but he had to try anyway. Picking up the pace, he continued to ram into that one spot and rubbed your clit. He wasn’t far behind - if he had not met you, the segment would have continued to think that chasing such a high with another person was a waste of time. But now that he had you in his grasp, a part of him could understand why the desires of humans overtook their common sense. Logic had no place right now, for you were completely intoxicating. 
Snapping his hips into you with one final thrust, he felt your walls squeeze around him as you came hard, his name only a half moan as your throat was sore from too much talking. The feeling had Omega holding back his own noise as he came too, still keeping up a mostly unaffected demeanor although that was far from the truth. Omega remained inside of you for a little while, stroking your cheek as you caught your breath, before pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you.
A perfect sight. A perfect mark. A perfect claim.
As he came to, Omega sighed at the mess staining his hands. It wasn’t as nearly as satisfying as his little fantasy, but it was something nonetheless. 
Couldn’t you see? See his selfish need for you, see how his gaze burned into you at particular moments, or how he traced your collarbone for a few moments too long? If only he had a chance, he could give you pleasure beyond what his creator could give you, he’d make sure of that. Any way you wanted it, he’d make sure you’d be blissed out.
… Well, regardless of his desires, Omega had to clean up and get back to work. Maybe if he was lucky, you’d break into his lab despite him telling you he was busy and cuddle on his lap, unaware of his previous pastime.
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pix-writes · 27 days ago
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I can hear your heartbeat
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Vampire!Stanford Pines x F!Reader
Summary: Ford encounters a creature in the woods that bites him and he seems to be a little… strange. He can't seem to focus with his lab assistant around.
AO3
Words: 3.4K
Rating: Explicit (18+) | Warnings/tags: blood drinking, smut, mutual pining, possessive!ford, mildly dub con (because of circumstances, if you squint?), passing out/fainting, blood and vampire kink (ofc), no use of y/n | A/N: Here's my vampire ford fic, happy halloween!
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He knows that you know something’s not quite right. He pauses in his journal entry as he risks a glance in your direction.
He knows that you know something’s not quite right. He pauses in his journal entry as he risks a glance in your direction. You were focused, head bent over your work, leaving him the sight of your curved neck. Sensing that you are being observed, you look up across the lab and meet his eyes.
He can almost fancy that he can hear your heartbeat change as he resumes writing, the steady thump-thump rising to a faster tempo. He can feel your stare as he looks down at his page… now, your heart’s rhythm goes back to resting. Ford has always felt a comfort in your presence, now it seemed to be permeating the whole house… warm, inviting. It’s become a distraction.
He needed to recall in detail what he had observed of his latest creature sighting, he crosses out his last line, realising that he had actually written about you in his distracted state. He just needed to convince you that he was fine, so he could continue to observe the effects, he had most of an antidote ready once he had recorded what he needed.
It had all started a few days ago, you had been at an out of town harvest fair. You had tried to persuade Ford to take a step out of the lab for once, though he declined. It was the perfect evening to study the nocturnal fungi species he had been observing in the forest.
Suddenly, out of nowhere he had been chased, heard the beating of leathery, wide wings of a bat-like creature. It had pursued him for half of the journey and despite his frantic attempts to shake him off, the creature had been able to sink his claws into him and left a bite before he managed to get some good punches in, rolling off of a verge down into thicket. The vampiric creature flew off at that point, whether it was the forest terrain or the fighting that had deterred it from following him home from there, he didn’t know for certain.
You had found him, of course you had. He had lost so much time, that by the time he had gotten over the threshold, his strength had weakened, he’d dragged himself into the kitchen by the time you pulled up in your car. He could imagine now, how disturbing it must’ve been to see the house and him in such a state on your return. However, he didn’t catch it at the time, your determined mind a useful asset times of emergencies, patching him up. He had felt proud in that moment, despite his position, your attributes were perfect qualities in an assistant. Even if he had to endure a mild reprimand to lone working from you after the fact, he congratulated himself that he had found someone up to the tasks that his research would need.
You had insisted that he see a doctor, just in case, maybe the creature could’ve carried rabies. As the days wore on, though, he knew you weren’t satisfied with his explanations. You hadn’t said anything, but from your breathing, how your eyes widened, he sensed the slight fear. It was foolish of him, but Ford was only just realising your observant nature was not purely limited to study, but to people and your surroundings. Had you always been scrutinising him in this way before?
Ford felt a nagging guilt at the idea of withholding information from you, however, he didn’t want you to freak out. You could be mad at him later and once you saw his results, he was sure that you couldn’t be upset for long. After all, wasn’t it you he had caught reading those cheap, gothic romances a month into your acquaintance? It still amused him to find you at your desk during breaks reading them, irked that you had been interrupted. Sometimes he even found them on the shared counterspace in the lab and he had gleaned that vampires seemed to be a common denominator.
Part of him wished that Fiddleford was still here, having left you both for a long stay with family, although his good friend was more superstitious than either of you put together. Perhaps the house was too quiet without him? Though that didn’t seem right.
Working silently with someone who didn’t feel the need to converse (or play the banjo at odd hours) wouldn’t have bothered him before, in fact he liked how you weaved past one another in the lab when you were working on the same analysis, completely in tune. But something had shifted… his new state was testing his endurance, if only he had another distraction…
A hand waved in front of his face and he dropped his pen. “Earth to Ford!”
“Yes?”
“I’ve finished the first round of the experiment!” You grinned, beckoning him to follow you to your side of the lab. “I think it might need just a little adjustment with the amount of sample I used but…”
Absorbed in your own explanation, your elbow knocked over the tripod that held your analysis.
“Be careful!” 
“Shit, sorry I’ve got it!”
The crucible had broken, and you scrambled to pick it up and sliced one of your fingers in the process, letting out a hiss at the sting.
Ford had let in a breath at that moment. Big mistake. His senses had been flooded with the delicious scent of your blood. He dug his fingers into the flesh of his arm to centre himself.
He could feel saliva flood into his mouth, the soreness in his canines and tried to swallow. His vision became tunnelled, focused now on the scents of the room. He could hear his own heartbeat, fast and erratic in his ears. Not now!
“Clumsy me, stay back, I don’t want you to get acid on you!” You hadn’t picked up on anything strange about him as he moved back. Your voice sounding far away.
After sweeping up the broken pieces into the waste bucket, instinct made you go to put your bleeding finger into your mouth. Ford caught your arm harshly. 
“Don’t do that!” You looked at him quizzically. Ford could sense the fluctuations in your heartbeat. When you breathed in, the muscles in your neck, your jugular, became more prominent at this angle. Fuck. “It’s not hygienic.” 
“It’s like a papercut, Ford.” The thump, thump, thump became steady again.
“Here.” Quickly handing you a tissue to stem the flow, he opened the packaging on a band-aid.
You noticed the clench to his jaw. “I’m fine, you know, I can patch myself up.”
But he continued without saying anything, securely wrapping your finger, the tension remaining.
Ford was packing items back into the first aid kit when he suddenly stumbled, holding onto the counter so he didn’t fall. “Hey! Ford, you alright?”
“Ah, fine, I- um…”
You frowned. “I really think you need to go to see a doctor; this isn’t right.” Before he could stop you, your hands were cupping his face, checking him over. The heat of your hands felt like fire on his skin. “Your wound looks worse. And you’re freezing!”
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll go in the morning, first thing, don’t worry.” 
Ford told you to continue with what you were doing, and you relented under assurances that he’d take care of himself. He saw the disappointment in your eyes as he brushed you off. It took all of his will to not grab hold of you right then and there, wanting to sink into your touch and your care. You and Fidds were always clucking round him like mother hens. He felt so tired, his mind wanted him to give into it, but he pushed himself up the stairs, feeling with each step that haze that had almost overpowered him dissipate.
He let out a groan of relief once he closed his bedroom door. His skin felt like it was in a cold sweat. He dragged a hand through his hair and pulled at the roots to sharpen his focus. He couldn’t keep this up much longer, he needed to feed. Later, he told himself. Later.
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Slipping out of your shoes, you navigated the quiet hallways of the shack, your home away from home, with care.
Ever since he had the encounter with that giant bat creature in the woods, he hasn’t been the same, perhaps anyone else would not notice the slight changes in his patterns, since he was one to neglect himself and bury himself in work on a daily basis, but you knew better. You had become determined to figure it out, once and for all.
He was too stubborn for his own good, something you clashed on at times, and so you hadn’t pushed him too much to seek medical attention, knowing there was a fine balance in how much you could say to Ford as his assistant. You had your suspicions of what was happening, but even then, it seemed absurd; you had seen some strange things happen in Gravity Falls, but could that really be real?
Just in case. Just for my peace of mind, you reassured yourself as you pulled the journal out of the pile of notes on Ford’s desk, flipping through sections to skip to the last entries. There must be something in here that can give you a clue to how to help him…
There was always a dim light in the lab, a faint bluish glow from the machinery that Fiddleford was working on. Sneaking around like this felt illicit and you knew that Stanford wouldn’t take kindly to you going through his work without permission. Turning on the desk lamp felt like it would dispel the stillness of the empty place and so you strained your eyes to read on in the light already provided.
A creak sounded from behind you, sending a jolt of panic to your gut.
“You shouldn’t be down here. It’s late.” The light backlit the figure’s silhouette as they stepped out from the doorframe, the tone unreadable. 
“S-Stanford!” You retreated from the desk. “You startled me. I was just-”
“-Sneaking around in the dark?” As he stepped forward, turning on one of the lamps, the warm lighting disrupting the angle of the shadows.
“Look, I apologise if I have crossed a line but,” You paused in your answer, noticing behind him in the storage room, where discarded cups had rolled across the table, leaving trails of blood. “I want to know what’s going on.”
“And what will you do with the answer?” The reply made you grit your teeth, hands balling up into fists. You felt awash with adrenaline. How dare he ask you such a thing! Did he think after all this time you’d do anything against him?
Without even thinking of it consciously, Ford had been stalking towards you as you had been backing away and you bumped into the counter behind you.
“I just want to help you, Ford!” You didn’t mean for it to come out sounding indignant. It was almost a whine as Ford practically pinned you to the spot, gripping the counter either side of you. Your breath hitched at how close he was.
"I can hear your heartbeat." Ford’s eyes were dark as ink as he met your gaze. You shivered. “It's beating pretty fast.”
“Ford,” You let out a nervous laugh. “C'mon you're messing with me.”
“Seems to happen every time I get close to you. Do I make you nervous?”
“N-no I, nhg!” Your reply is cut off as Ford leans down to place a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. The touch tickles your skin, making you flush with pleasure at the intimate sensation.
“Couldn’t stop yourself, could you?” It seemed like he was murmuring to himself, nuzzling his head into your hand and you catch a glimpse of pearly, sharp canines. “You want to help me? Because I don’t think I can stop myself right now.”
Even as alarm bells flood your mind at the situation, you didn’t stop him, didn’t pull away from his touch. Instead you gently pushed your thumb across his lips, inspecting the fangs, another shot of fear coursing through you. Stunned, you watched as Ford pressed a kiss to your wrist, opened his jaw and bit into your flesh in a supernaturally fluid motion.
The scream that escaped your mouth became stuck in your throat as the pain seared through you. It felt as though his fangs had hit bone.
The muscles in your body locked up. Heart thudding against your own chest, tears flowing unbidden from your eyes. You whimpered as Ford’s mouth felt tight around your now-open wound, free hand striking out at the table for support.
The stabbing pain suddenly subsided, leaving in its wake a pleasure that made you feel like you were on the drunk side of tipsy. It thrummed through your body, down between your legs.
You moaned, unable to look away from the sight of Ford, eyes glazed over as he took what he wanted from you.
Why had he resisted for so long?
The animal blood he had been gorging himself on just a moment ago, faded away in comparison to human blood. The salty taste of your skin giving him a complete contrast to the sweetness of your blood that was as blissful as it was hard to describe.
He felt every throb of your heart as he fed from you uncoiling his self-control, the shame in his gut from hurting you mixing with the lust he had pushed down for far too long. It wasn’t until your fingers carded through the side of his hair that a flash of clarity came over him and he loosened his grip on your arm. Soothing the bite with his tongue.
“Fuck, you taste incredible.” He growled.
This had to be some kind of dream of yours, some fantasy come to life as you stared blearily into the hungry look of the man in front of you. Now it was your turn to pull him in, pressing your lips to his, the metallic taste of your own blood on his tongue.
"I need to taste more of you." His touch roamed over you, fingers dipping under your clothes before he paused. "Can I?"
"Yes, god, yes.” You didn't have to wait long, helping him to push off your pants, flinging them to the side by the time his mouth was on you. Lips trailing across your inner thigh. If your head wasn’t swimming with desire, you would have felt a little embarrassed at how wet you had become since the researcher had fed from your wrist.
But Ford wasted no time, mouth warm and insistent, humming as you moaned, the vibrations making you tip your head back.
Though, you could tell his movements were careful, and you wondered whether he hesitated from not wanting to hurt you or from inexperience.
“Ford, please." Taking hold of his hand on your hip, you guided him. 
“Yes, yes! Like that.” He was a quick learner, slipping his fingers into your wet pussy, relieving the ache you had felt. 
Ford’s little pleased noises from your praise was setting you alight. His tongue glided through your folds, flicking up to your clit, his prominent nose adding extra stimulation as he ate you out.
“So good.” Your fingers once again ran through his hair, this time gripping as you reached your climax, whimpering as Ford lapped at your sensitive skin, savouring the taste of you.
There was a moment where you both caught your breath.
“Wow! That was amazing.” Ford looked dishevelled, a rare sight for you as he was usually so composed. Even when you had both been running from danger, he didn’t look like… this.
His face wasn’t the only part of him that was flushed, the ruddy colour dusted over the tips of his ears and over his chest. Tiny specks of blood littered his white shirt like freckles. Further down you could see the straining bulge in his pants, untouched. His pupils were blown, raking over you from head to toe in a way that made you feel conscious that you must also look a wreck. He felt warmer to the touch now and you filed that thought away for later analysis. That’s when you noticed that he wasn’t nearly as undressed as you are. That seemed unfair.
He said your name. “-I… It was, remarkable! But I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- are you, oh!”
Ford ceased to remember what he was trying to say as you kissed him, fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt.
He helped you to push up onto the counter, shrugging his shirt off as he went, pulling more off of you as you nibbled at his ear and down his jawline.
“I need you.” Your touch went to his waist and he paused to unbuckle his pants. God, he had already left a wet spot on his boxers and you gasped into his mouth as you felt him. He was thicker than you had ever had before.
Ford leant onto the desk, gently pushing you backwards as he took up the space between your thighs. He pushed his cock against your slick folds, teasing you for a moment with the tip to watch you buck into his touch before he pushed himself all the way in. A guttural moan escaping from him as your pussy clenched around him.
His hands spread over the warm skin of your torso, pushing up your sweater which you discarded.
“Doing so well for me.” He rolled your nipples between his fingers as he continued his slow pace. You begged for him to use his mouth and when he did, it felt incredible, the barest hint of fangs along soft skin as he sucked at your tits. “Perfect.”
You whined, loud, clenching around his cock.
Ford let out a soft noise. It was familiar to you, like when he found something unexpected within his research, or you did something he found surprising. “You like that?” 
The smirk that was starting to form on his face was devastating. He could hear as your heartbeat thrummed once more into the rhythm that thrilled him, continuing to praise you.
“So perfect… So beautiful… Feel so good.”
But his newfound confidence started to crack as he started to get close, his grunts and groans becoming louder and more drawn out, lost in the feeling as you blissfully moved to a faster pace. Tugging at his hair once more to watch him keen.  
When two of Fords thick fingers reached down to circle your clit, you faltered.
“Please, please cum. Please, honey. N-need to, ah, need to feel it!”
Ford bit down just above your clavicle, brow resting against your shoulder as he devoured you once again. Your eyes were starting to roll back as you held onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into soft flesh, hearing him groan in response. Tightening around his cock, each thrust of his hips hitting that delicious spot within you. Tipping right on the edge, you didn’t want this to end, trembling as you felt Ford drag his tongue over the new bite.
“So beautiful and mine. All mine.” He groaned, looking at you slack jawed, chin shiny with spit and cum. “Mine.”  
The words went straight to your core and you came, back arching as you let the waves crash through you, bringing Ford over the edge by the rocking your hips. He held you close as you rode it out together, murmuring softly.
Although you had no idea what he said, head feeling fuzzy as he released you. You caught your breath and slid off of the counter, but your legs felt unsteady.
Ford called your name. “You alright?”
You wanted to reassure him, but you felt dead on your feet, head slumping against his chest.
He cursed under his breath. “Ah, I-I’m sorry! Sorry, there,” Ford quickly scooped you up, over his shoulder. “I’ve got you, darling.”
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Post fic A/N: I had Ford as the narrator for most of it, cause I thought it was an interesting perspective, because even in his thoughts he's in denial ^^' so he's a little unrealiable on what his feelings to the reader are, so I thought people would be able to fill in the gaps where its obviously been a mutual pining situation! (disrupted by vampirism hahaha)
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teaboot · 8 months ago
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does the itchy vulva answer apply to itchy clitoris? i think the vulva is just the “lips” but i don’t really know
also i don’t wanna shave down there just bc it makes it itchy due to irritation & causes ingrown hairs and it’s just annoying to do, but i didn’t know it made infections and stuff more likely! i’ve had to visit my mom’s gynecologist for period stuff, and she had me shave so i would be less gross for the doctor to look at i guess? and when the doctor was doing my exam she commented that i shouldn’t shave due to the irritation thing, but i wish i knew about what you said!! are infections and diseases more common because the hair somehow acts as a shield? how’s it work if not? sorry for the long ask
The vulva is the whole outside part- clitoris, labia (the "lips"), urethra, and vaginal opening. The vagina is inside your body- the 'tunnel' part- but most people just refer to the whole damn basement as the vagina, which isn't medically accurate. So yes, itching sensations in the "vulva" could apply to all these outer areas.
Gynecologists do not care. They have seen everything. They have seen hairy people and waxed people and young people and old people. They've seen infections and diseases and disorders and scarring and injuries. I promise they do not think hair is gross. You do not have to shave. It is 2pm on a Tuesday at the office for them. It's fine.
Hair maximizes surface area and protects the skin, which is delicate around genital areas, from cold, heat, drying, and friction. It traps dust, dead skin, bacteria, and debris before it can migrate to areas which are vulnerable to infection, like your vagina and urethra. There's nothing wrong with trimming hair if you choose to, but it grows the way it does for a reason.
If you DO choose to shave, follow the grain and use a gentle moisturizer. Wear breathable underwear and wash the area when you bathe with clean water, no soap.
Do whatever you want with your body, just remember to research first.
Just a reminder that I am not a medical professional. For any questions regarding your body personally, I always 100% recommend asking your doctor.
Fantastic questions!
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eskymoos · 5 months ago
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Levi Ackerman X Reader
          Older grumpy x younger sunshine
              How I think Levi would treat a young scout who reminds him painfully much of Furlan/Isabel.
The beginning of your professional relationship began when he watched you undergo the ODM gear tests. You were physically strong and he made a mental note of that. You hung upside down with ease and zipped through the trees as if it were your second nature. In a way, you surpassed the diligence his younger self had.
When he learned that you were interested in scientific research as much as Hange, he imagined how chaotic things would turn out. Unlike Hange, you weren’t used to working in loud, overcrowded spaces so you rarely had the chance to get you work done on time. Levi reluctantly offered you to use his office. Whenever he was out or at a meeting, he’d hand you his keys and you could lock yourself in the room to focus. It was all yours. He wasn’t used to open kindness but this was an exception for you. The next morning you would thank him by leaving cookies on his desk.
He never had enough time to learn how to write so he copied some parts of your handwriting to fix his. It would take a long time before you realized he wrote his j’s and g’s the same way as you.
One time you came back from an expedition with many bruises and injuries all over your body and the doctor failed to cover them up so Levi did it instead. He prohibited you from seeing that doctor again.
When you had first been given your cape as an article of your uniform, you noticed a dark stain in the back of it. It wouldn't come off even with hours of scrubbing. It bothered you so much that you borrowed one of Levi’s spare capes, thinking he wouldn’t say anything. He did notice but never told you. You never gave it back.
You and Hange were the only ones he would ask for favors. Time proved that he wasn’t exactly fond of making friendships or getting attached but you two had a special spot in his heart. Sometimes when he was too tired and buried in his work he would call for you and ask you to make his tea. Even when you did not make it exactly the way he liked it, he always drank the entire thing.
As a young person, you were bound to falling in love and crushing on other scouts and cadets. Levi was the one who regulated your desires and professional life. When you got too carried away because of someone, he would yank your hair back and discipline you the way he always did. He cared about your wellbeing enough to know that those feelings would only hurt you.
When you grew up a bit more, his trust for you also grew. He even allowed himself to let loose at times. Sometimes during training you would try to race him to the other side of the forest to see who could strike more targets. Levi was nonchalant about that habitual game of yours and even let you win a couple times just to catch a glimpse of your shit-eating smile.
You could have faith in him when it came to hairstyles. He did his own hair throughout his whole life and knew exactly how to work with scissors. When you wanted your ends trimmed, you would go to him and he would do it swiftly and cleanly. He was secretly grateful you trusted him so much. It was mutual.
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mistydeyes · 1 year ago
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cold coffee and sloppy notes
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summary: As the 141 returns home, they're always more than happy to support their favorite student as you work towards your degree.
pairing: Task Force 141 x student!civ!Reader
warnings: none :) all fluff
a/n: i thought this was fitting as i'm now officially back in school! good luck to everyone who is also heading back and feel free to reach out if you need any help or just want to destress :)
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price - defending your thesis
"How's it going in here, love?" John asked as he entered the living room. He observed the TV that had your thesis defense presentation and the collection of papers and notecards on the table. "It's…okay?" you said, almost questionably. In fact, it was not okay. You had gone over your presentation to the fictional group of panelists thousands of times but always tripped up on your words. He could sense your distress and enveloped you in a comforting hug. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked as he rubbed your back lightly. "I don't know," you mumbled, "I just need to get this presentation down." He took a step back and made his way to the couch. "Then present it to me, and I'll give you some feedback."
“Good morning panelists,” you began nervously as you clasped your hands together. “Take a deep breath,” John corrected and you sighed before taking a seat next to him. He placed a comforting arm around your shoulder before you leaned into his side. “What if they don’t approve of my research?” you shakily spoke as your mind flooded with the possibility. You had spent 4 years researching this topic and the only thing in between you and your doctorate was your thesis defense. “Well you can’t go in like that,” he advised, “researchers can smell fear.” You lightly punched his shoulder as you both laughed. “I’m serious!” you exclaimed, “What if they tell me I wasted all these years?” You sighed again and he placed a gentle hand on your cheek. “You’re the expert on this topic, you just have to show them that,” he reassured and you smiled back to his soft gaze. You spent a few moments like this before getting up again and trying to go through your presentation.
You looked down at the coffee table of notes before John snatched them in his hand. He held them gently in his lap before looking back at you. You were about to object when he placed a finger to his mouth. “Love, if you keep a script then you’re going to sound like wet cardboard,” he explained as your face twisted in a mix of emotions, “I doubt they’d want to sit through another boring defense.” You took a moment to compose yourself before he gestured for you to start again. “Good morning panelists,” you repeated, with more vigor than the last time, “I am Y/N, a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of…” Even if tomorrow you left as a candidate, you knew that you would have John’s unwavering support through it all.
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soap - mathematics work
As you lay on the loveseat with Johnny, you groaned loudly. You stomped your feet childishly on his lap which caught his attention. He looked up from his phone as you frustratingly erased at the paper. "You alright?" he asked and you shook your head. This assignment for your maths class had taken you hours and you still could not figure it out. The words on the page began to blend together and you were at a loss of where to start. "I don't understand why I took a maths class," you mumbled and put your forearms above your head. Soap patted your leg reassuringly before trying to peek a look at your notebook. "Let me take a look," he offered and you couldn't help but laugh.
“Thanks, babe but I don’t know if you can help,” you said, chewing on the end of your pencil. “Try me,” he joked as he looked at you. Deciding it didn't hurt to let him try, you threw over your notebook with impossible equations and problem sets. You took the time to check your phone and take a break from your calculations. After a few moments of him thinking out loud and throwing out various “hmmmms” and “I sees,” you sighed as if you were wasting his time. You were about to take the notebook back when he hit a eureka moment. “Pencil me,” he commanded and you passed it over to him. After a few more scribbles and mental math, he presented you with the solution. “Here ya go,” he said smiling and you couldn’t believe he found an answer. Your eyes scanned over the sloppy handwriting but you were able to see it followed the equation you had learned and the answer was reasonable.
“How-how did you do that?” you asked as you looked over his work. You hoped it was correct but we’re at a loss for his sudden stroke of genius. “‘m more than just a pretty face,” he joked and you pushed you eyed him suspiciously. “I’m serious, Johnny.” “Think ‘bout it, my job is all about maths,” he explained, “demolitions is about figuring out how much ya need, how big the building is, and where the pressure points are.” You shook your head in disbelief. He was right after all, geometry was so integral to many professions even if you didn’t enjoy it. "Thank you," you smiled and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss, "might just ask for your help on all my assignments."
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gaz - studying
Kyle returned from the kitchen with two cups of tea, surprised to find you had overtaken the living room floor with your textbooks, notes, and electronics. You had been at it for hours now and Kyle was more than happy to make dinner and clean your flat while you worked. The room was filled with a mix of classical music and lo-fi beats. Somewhere in there, he could've sworn he heard the Coconut Mall theme song. "Hey, you," he called and you looked up at him. He noticed the bags around your eyes as you pushed back your blue light glasses. "How's it going," you weakly asked and motioned for him to sit. You shuffled a few papers around on the couch behind you as he maneuvered through the mess.
He placed your favorite cup of tea down on the glass table before settling on the comfortable seat. You sipped it gently and savored the taste. "Decaf?" you asked, looking back at him, and he nodded. "I don't think you need more caffeine," he chided as you rolled your eyes in response. "I just have so much to do," you replied before looking back down at your organized mess. You always dreaded finals season and would procrastinate studying until the last week. Despite having copious amounts of notes, you were at a loss to remember all the material asked of you. You wished there were more hours in the day to study.
“Love, you should rest,” Kyle gently suggested as he put a hand on your shoulder. You leaned back into his touch, groaning at the eye strain and the now persistent headache. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” you whispered, trying to overcome your anxiety and disappointment in your lackluster study habits. Kyle massaged your shoulders as you closed your eyes. “We’ll wake up early tomorrow and I can help you study in one of those cafes you love,” he offered and you nodded with a smile on your face. As you relaxed into his soothing motions, he stopped before cupping your tired face. “Let’s go to bed and start again tomorrow, yeah?” you again nodded, this time eyes heavy with sleep, before you followed him to bed.
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ghost - reading and revising
When you were nose-deep in a textbook heavier than his tac vest, Simon knew to vacate the room. You were a model student and Simon would always let you know when he returned home. While you loved seeing your boyfriend, you also enjoyed his clean flat without any flatmates. You’d often lug your materials to his and request a table to organize everything. After five minutes, Simon would walk by to see you with a stack of textbooks to your side and your iPad propped up in the center of the oak table. He also noted the sticky tabs and highlighters organized by some unknown hierarchy delicately placed in arms reach. You were your own tour-de-force and with your large headphones, it was only you and your revisions in this world.
Simon didn't mind the peaceful atmosphere. It often allowed him time to clean his flat from the accumulating dust or exercise in his bedroom. "Just tell me if I'm being too loud," he'd whisper before you put on your headphones, tuning out the world. He would leave you until you finished or you found him in another room. It was a functional routine and Simon enjoyed it. This time, you had a large exam coming up and Simon had run out of errands and chores to do. As he entered the room with some paperwork in hand, you nodded in approval before returning to your work. Every so often, he would look over at your hunched-over figure and smile to himself.
Eventually, as the sun began to set, Simon decided to return to the paperwork another day. He closed up the manila envelopes before stretching slightly and making his way to the door. He was pondering what to order for dinner when he heard you take off your headphones. “Can you stay?” you said, barely over a whisper and Simon stopped in his tracks. He looked over to you but your eyes remained trained on the minuscule font. “You want me to stay?” he questioned as he walked back over to the couch. As he reclined himself on the seat, you looked up. “If you don’t mind,” you smiled, “your presence is reassuring.” Simon let out a soft chuckle at your explanation. It wasn’t every day someone told him he was a comforting presence in the room. "I can stay for few," he replied, "but we're getting dinner in an hour and you're taking a break." He laughed as you shooed him away with your hand before returning to your productive state. Simon closed his eyes and rested, knowing you wouldn't mind. Hopefully, your headphones were loud enough to drown out his snoring.
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fatuismooches · 5 months ago
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about reader and dottore having a child, i love imagining some lost agents being so terrified of our little sweetheart (bc look at him, he has the genes of a monster) but then being so shocked when he whipped up the brightest smile in all of teyvat (although if you ask him and dottore yours is brighter, like a sun compared to a star) and started happily leading them to their designated lap and segment
our little baby having some of readers birthmarks would be so cute, or like the hair is a little more like yours texture-wise, the eyes are way softer looking and has more of a spark... yk the tiniest detail only you and dottore would notice
speaking of that hehe imagining the sweetheart has the looks of your husband but the personality of you, you could get this boy to do so many things to dottore without many(- to none) questions. like idk, teasing him for yours but then you fall asleep on your hubby so your son takes over, using puppy eyes when you want attention bc double the cuteness turned out to be more effective... i have too many ideas and i almost feel bad for dottore now
but yeah just you and your precious son annoying your husband because you're both bored of sitting in bed all day
also some of the harbingers who don't really know you finding out years after your son was born is so funny to me for like no reason
like arlie not wanting a dottore segment around her children but he's also related to you so he wouldn't dare hurt any of them
a lot of agents would find out with rumors or being unlucky and put in a lap with a segment and him, then talking to the sweetheart and not being as scared (kind of)
some of the harbingers probably ended up finding out by the many things their agents "whisper" about
but childe, columbina, pantalone, the grandpa(im so sorry i cant remember his name), and then ofc pierro and her majesty Tsaritsa knew already. tsaritsa and pierro because i guess they kind of have to or they yk can tell. the rest was there while you(/something??) was pregnant for reasons. also childe (+ pantalone) is the uncle despite poor zandik trying to not let it happen, but he's good at the children thing, so he will let it slide (you threatened to not kiss him or any segment for two days, zandy would be spared dw)
i would also give you name ideas but my brain is dull and stopped working so meh
how dare you give him the illness even though it makes sense :<
-Luv ya
There are many things you can encounter in the Doctor's lab, being the place of research it is, but the most unbelievable thing is the little child that oddly resembles Lord Dottore that one can find wandering about sometimes (correction: that has somehow escaped from the watchful gaze of his parents.) Any agent that encounters this little guy always pauses in shock for a good few moments, watching the little blue-haired boy smile a smile as blinding as the sun, before whipping out the Fatui's Handbook to learn how to proceed with this matter. Needless to say, it is imperative for one to know how to deal with this situation - this is the Lord Harbinger, the Doctor, Il Dottore's child after all.
The child having Dottore's looks and your personality is the best combination you could ask for. Uncle Pantalone and Auntie Columbina have so, so much fun with your son, telling him the most ridiculous stories about his father, which your son repeats to Dottore, making the scientist want to end his two co-workers immediately. You do nothing to stop the show. Of course, you only make it worse. Needless to say, Dottore is absolutely tired of you two, but he loves you both so there's nothing he can really do other than scold you and then dispel his son's questions.
Dottore would keep the matter as private as possible, but that's kind of impossible considering how curious his kid grows to be (snuck out multiple times, landed in the House of the Hearth once, walked into one of the Captain's training sessions - he has a knack for riling things up, much like how you did a long time ago.) Despite the majority of people having... certain feelings toward the Doctor, well, at the very least they had to congratulate you. (Why would you ever raise a kid with him?) (Childe giving you the best advice ever about dealing with kids while Dottore stares daggers at him because you kicked him out...)
(I love Dadttore sm...)
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rowanthestrange · 5 months ago
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I’m gonna get clown shoes I’m sorry, but…the thing I don’t get with the snow and song in her heart and carol of the bells stuff…
If this is a salted ‘believing she’s special made her special’ thing…who believed she was special?
We didn’t really until the Maestro said “oh there is something wrong with this girl”.
Ruby didn’t until her mother was seeming to be some great beater of death in the last episode.
And even though the Doctor had still seen all what was going on with her, a) was kinda surprised when it snowed and when the Maestro said she was weird, and b) even literally at the finale was just like ‘wait UNIT has supermega government quality research power what if I get them to track down her mum’ - which suggests he is thinking she’s a root normal person.
I’m not trying to be all clownish, really I’m not, but the memory kept changing. We said that! We repeated it multiple times.
The Doctor told us in the Church voiceover he knew who the mother was - “As for the mother, she was never seen again. No one ever knew her name, until that night a time traveller came to call. A traveller known as the Doctor.” The Doctor cried, he wept. He knew.
His explanation about her pointing at the sign to name her doesn’t make sense, she wasn’t staring at the lamppost, the Doctor and TARDIS were there in the way, they weren’t invisible, their landing there was never undone, they were always right there, that’s how time travels works. She’d have left a note. A thing that actually comes up in Space Babies, no note, nothing.
What if he suppressed the memory? What if he didn’t want to believe it? Wanted to believe something else, anything else.
And beliefs are real. So what if his denial warped the story?
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iz-star · 2 months ago
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My thoughts and guesses / theories about Zayne's upcoming main story branch.
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Like I've said in previous posts, I've been hella busy with work and most of all, exhausted so I haven't been able to come here and scream about the game updates (let alone draw something) but I still want to summarize my reactions from the past few days.
About the main story update, I'm really excited to see what's going to happen! I love the Dawnbreaker references but I have to be honest, I don't really think this is Dawnbreaker, he's still Dr Zayne (they both are part of each other somehow, but you understand what I mean).
Here's why:
At first, I genuinely thought this time we really would get the chance to interact with Dawnbreaker since Zayne is wearing DB's outfit and not a jumpscare outfit like in Snowy Serenity but the more I watched the trailer, the more I realized that this is still Dr Zayne which both makes me feel alleviated (cause if it were to be Dawnbreaker, it would leave us wondering where Dr Zayne is) and scared cause if he gets to suffer/ sacrifice himself in this time line like he did as Foreseer and MoF, I don't know well how I'll handle it.
He's a male lead so I don't think they will kill him off (? but somehow with Zayne one never knows, he's honestly always surprising us. In any case, my wildest theory is that if something happens to Dr Zayne, then we'll continue his branch with Dawnbreaker... idk? Anyway, don't really pay too much attention to this since it's most unlikely that something like this happens.
The impression I got after watching the trailer so many times is that this is actually Dr Zayne in the process of becoming 'Dawnbreaker' (maybe not exactly his other self but the concept) which has been one of his biggest fears; the reason? Because the Xander Sciences experiments, the severe cases of Protocore Syndrome and Metaflux anomalies are probably speeding the process of humanity to get doomed since in Dawnbreaker's world, humans turning into wanderers is something pretty recurrent and the very reason Zayne is a killer and his world is apocalyptic. Dr Zayne knows of this, he knows using protocores in human hearts is dangerous (the very reason he gave up his research in university), he also knows that to be exposed to big quantities of metaflux is what turns humans into Wanderers, he knows it because when he and William fought side by side in Mt Eternal, it was in order to destroy a Protofield that got out of hand and the Metaflux anomalies there were bringing to land more Wanderers. It was until they destroyed the protofield when William started to turn into an Abomination and then, a Wanderer.
In the trailer, Dr Zayne says something like 'We have no choice but to destroy this place" so my guess is that there is another big Metaflux anomaly like in Mt Eternal but this time in a place where there is a lot of ppl and due to being exposed to it, they're turning into Wanderers, something that Zayne as a Doctor can't cure: "Aren't you a Doctor. You should've save me!"
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In fact, this is something he can only cure as Dawnbreaker:
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I'm really interested to know who was the guy who asked Zayne to kill him. My guesses are:
William (and this probably a flashback).
Carter
Greyson (most unlikely since the voice didn't mach but goshh could you imagine the angst if it was him??)
So if there is another Metaflux anomaly it means that there's a Protofield that got out of hand and it probably was in either Akso Hospital or Xander Sciences company cause they had a special patient that accoring to what they say in the trailer, had a fragil heart that would've stopped long ago.
If I'm not mistaken (and since I'm currently sleepy and feeling lazy) in the World Underneath anecdotes Carter and Xander Sciences tried to keep some patients alive or to revive them using protocores and keeping him in pods but it didn't work? However, long before these anecdotes were released, we knew that there were already organizations doing research about immortality:
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It seems that 'A special energy field' is necesary in order to reach better conditions to regenerate the human heart. What if this 'special energy field' is something similar to a Protofield? If we remember correctly, in both Rafayel and Xavier's myths MC's heart was necessary for them to live immortal lifes? In Rafayel's case, she seemed to give ppl some kind of energy? But at the same time she couldn't leave their city neither. In Xavier's case, her heart was like an unending source of energy for Philos core and they wanted to feed Philos core with her so they would stop to sending humans and then Philos core would stop crearing wanderers.
In both cases, it seems that MC is the source of energy of a Protofield that both gives it enough quantities of energy to keep it balanced and making ppl within this field to be immortal (like her) without the risk of becoming wanderers. In Rafayel's myth, she was already the source of this field, so there are actually no wanderers in this myth. In Xavier's myth, she wasn't the source of it so they were creating wanderers bc of it.
What if in this case, Xander Sciences discovers that the key to reach immortality lies in creating a Protofield with enough energy to create the needed conditions to regenerate human hearts for indefinite amount of time and that the KEY to achieve this lies in MC's aether core??
What if what Zayne is trying to protect here is MC's heart so they won't use her to reach immortality, EVEN if he knows that this most likely will avoid tons of deaths and will stop the creation of wanderers and ALSO will avoid his future as Dawnbreaker but even so he chooses to save her, just like he did as Foreseer and Master of Fate.
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And lastly, he mentions "When that day comes... When I can't wake up" my only guesses are:
His nightmare of becoming "The Grim Reaper" will become true.
By destroying the Protofield that is creating the anomaly, he also freezes himself?
Maybe he steals part of MC's power or even he takes the creatio protocore he gave to her as Foreseer and uses it on himself so instead of using her as the source of energy for this Protofield, he offers himself as this unending source of energy? (This one is quite wild and seems unlikely to happen but I still wanted to mention it ahaha).
Anyway these are all my thoughts for now. Please take this with a grain of salt, since these are only silly theories and nothing official. We'll have to wait some days more to discover the truth.
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hypernova-writes · 2 months ago
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Hello. Hope you’re doing well and don’t overwork yourself! Many of us are more than willing to lend an ear.
Anyways, if I could, could I request a Yandere Medic x AFAB reader and either headcannons or an imagine (You may chose) of how he would react if the reader kept trying to escape him after being kidnapped, no matter how hard or what he tried?
Thanks! And feel free to ignore this request! And drink water!
A/n: Hello~! I’m doing fine! We’re recovering from a hurricane down here so we’re just getting power back! How about you <3 ALSO I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH. Growing up I had an interest in yandere’s and how they worked (I played a lot of yan simulator when I was younger-) and I always love to see how people characterize different characters! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!
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Yandere Medic Headcanons! 💉❤️‍🩹
Before we even start we have to figure out what type of Yandere is Medic exactly!
Based on his personality and how he acts, I would place him as the Mousougata (Delusional), Kanchigaigata (Wrong Idea), and Sokubakugata (Restraints).
So let’s start with the first two since they are very Similar!
The Delusional and Wrong Idea yanderes tend to create a world in their own mind where you are already their darling, they refuse to accept rejection, ignoring the feelings of their darling and truly believing that they are in love with them the same way that they are in love with them! They will get the wrong idea from a simple interaction, and truly believe that they are in a relationship with their darling.
Now onto Medic!
It could start from when you first joined RED, you were a sweetheart to everyone, bringing them sweets as a way to get to know your new teammates.
When you get to Medic, you have to go to his clinic to meet him. You give him such a big smile as he feels like he just melts.
When he touches your hand, it’s almost as if sparks flew around him, he could suddenly feel the blood pumping in your hands, suddenly he wanted to know you more, he wanted to know Everything about you. Every. Single. Thing.
He would figure out your medical records, researching everything about you, He’ll know things about you that you wouldn’t even know about yourself!
When on the battlefield, he would always pocket you, to the point that other members on the team were beginning to suffer from it. Oh his Liebling had sliver of health? Help is on the way dear! But if Scout was near death? Go find a health back, his darling is more important!
Moving to the Restraints part of it. If he notices that you are beginning to pull away from him, he will not hesitate to drug you next time you come to visit him for a checkup. He can’t have his darling trying to run away now? You two were meant to be together!
He will make it to where you are so sluggish that you have to depend on him whenever you are in a battle, You can’t perform right unless you have ,Medic’s Medigun on you.
“Aww..You look so weak..you need a doctor..don’t you~”
Now onto the Imagine~
You knew he was crazy, but you just thought that was Medic being Medic. But when he started to become more obsessive over you, you started to take a step back. Medic wasn’t Medic anymore…
You were struggling to walk back to your room after struggling to get out of the med bay. You had gone to Medic after feeling sick, he had his back turned to you, and thinking you weren’t paying attention he pulled out a vial of what you noticed to be a sleeping agent. This prompted you to get up and made an escape.
No wonder you were feeling weak…he had been drugging you. All your vitamins, allergy medicines, the fucking shots you had gotten…He was tampering with them to keep them close.
You cried out as you felt a sharp in your leg, you looked down and saw a needle in her leg, she looked back and saw Medic smirking at her.
“and vhere do jou zhink jou’re going?…”
You could feel your body getting weak, and you struggled to crawl away. His footsteps were quiet and calm as he walked up.
“It’s is quite rude to leave before jour check up darling~.” He cooed as he walked over to you, standing over you with a small chuckle. He crouched down to caress your face.
“Jou’ll be out in a few. But don’t vorry. I’ll take good care of you my love~”
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HI hi! Hope you enjoyed this~ Remember if you would like to support me: Here is my Kofi <3
Also! Please send me more requests like this I enjoyed this a little too much lol..
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amsgrey · 1 year ago
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Deja Vu II
Part I
Okay so, I have been researching more and trying to get things at least somewhat accurate before I wrote part two. In the first part, I wrote TBI, with further research, what I was actually trying to write is an Anoxic brain Injury (still technically a TBI). The whole idea there is when the brain is starved of oxygen critical functions are impacted and there can be a whole bunch of differing symptoms after it. OBVIOUSLY, I am NOT a medical professional, so take everything with a big ol' grain of salt. I am thinking of writing some more parts to this but purely when I have time bc adult life sucks. I kept the ending open but also al actual end, unlike the first part. Hope it is somewhat enjoyable.
WARNINGS: Medical stay, seizures, talk of needles + medical procedures, hospitals, Will and Jay being their usually angsty selves, poor writing and zero editing
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"Will?"
Abrams looked between the Halsteads, not sure what his place was. Everyone remembered when Pat Halstead passed, mostly because the Halstead brawl was talked about for weeks. Will Halstead was known for causing headaches for plenty of people around Med, he was the topic of gossip all through the building.
Abrams was saved by the bell - literally. His pager started beeping, excusing him from the brewing storm between the brothers.
"I'll put in for the tests," He tossed over his shoulder, disappearing into the stream of medical workers.
"Will." Jay snapped, glowering at his brother.
Will scrubbed a hand down his face, "Abrams needs to run more tests."
"More tests?" Jay pressed, "What just happened, Will?"
Will shook his head, looking at his younger brother he knew, telling Jay how bad this might be, would destroy him. Jay hated hospitals, hated medical things in general. Will couldn't look him in the eye and plant the same fear he had gnawing at him.
"I don't know, Jay," Will sighed, "I'm not a neurologist."
Jay didn't want to accept his answer, but Will didn't give him much of a chance. He turned back to your hospital room, forcing a smile as he entered.
"What was that about?" You asked, exactly where they left you.
"Just more tests," Will smiled. He stopped at the top of your bed, checking you over with doctor's eyes. You could always tell when he flipped between Big Brother and Doctor because Big Brother Will wore his emotions. Doctor Will was better at keeping his poker face like he was now.
Will's eyes flittered around the monitors before settling back on yours. His eyes softened, the slight furrow in his brow disappearing and a smile pulling on his lips again.
"You feeling alright?"
You nodded, "I'm just tired."
Will nodded, he reached out and brushed the hair off your forehead, "Get some sleep, yeah? We'll be here the whole time."
Jay reached out and squeezed your hand, before pulling up the blanket and tucking you in.
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A few hours later, you were sitting up in your hospital bed while a Neurology Tech attached electrodes to your scalp. Jay had left for home, for a shower and clean clothes. He promised he would bring back your blanket and pillow and some other stuff to make you more comfortable, seeming Will said it would be okay.
While he was gone, Will sat at the end of the bed, holding your hand through the Electrode placement. After the Tech finished, you were attached to a monitor with wires upon wires, all differing colours. The tech apologized for the cap that sat over all the leads, promising it wasn’t too bad.
“it’s a new fashion trend,” you joked, smiling at the tech, “Nuero floor chic.”
The tech laughed, continuing her work. When she was done, she walked you through what she had done. Explaining the placement and the leads, and how it all worked.
"This is your personal EEG," She explained, gesturing to the boxy machine on wheels that your wires were attached to, "Try to keep it close."
She explained a few more things, then promised to return in a little while. In her absence, Dr. Abrams stopped through again. He looked over the techs work, mumbling to himself and making medical comments only Will understood.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
You had already taken a nap, so you weren't as tired as you had been.
"Sick of sitting," You said, stretching your legs and accidentally nudging Will in the process. Will playfully batted at your feet, feigning offence.
Abrams pulled at the EEG machine on wheels, testing how the wheels glided, "If you are feeling up for it, you can go for a small walk."
You lit up, "I can?"
"If you take it slow," Abrams ordered, "And Will is by your side."
Will nodded, "Are you feeling up for it?"
"Yes."
Will helped you detangle yourself from the blanket, letting you adjust to being fully upright for the first time that day. Your feet dangled over the bed as you took a moment to compose your spinning head. Will pulled a pair of socks over your bare feet, muttering something about keeping your toes warm. He held your arm as you stood up, supporting your weight as your body adjusted again.
"You alright?"
"Mmm," You responded, focused on staying upright.
"Okay," Will wrapped an arm around your waist, "One step at a time, we'll try to make it to the nurse's station and back."
It was slow going. With every step you took, it felt like the world was twisting, like walking through an earthquake. Will's arms hovered around you, only holding you up when you needed the support. He was so steady in his support, his warm presence keeping you grounded and calm.
Two steps outside of your room, Jay bounded up with your pillow and blanket tucked under his arm.
"They're upright," He commented, "Nice hair, too."
He reached out and pretended to ruffle your hair, careful to avoid touching the wires around your head. You reached out to smack his hand, but missed drastically.
You frowned at Jay, frustration barely contained, "Sshut. uphh."
The words sounded fumbled through your gritted teeth. Abrams had mentioned how you needed to take things slow and Will tried to tell you that it might be frustrating at first, but you weren’t expecting to feel such anger. It was gnawing away at you. A week ago you were dancing around with Makayla, wrangling her for a weekend while Kim and Adam worked. You had run around, danced, sung, every little thing that made Makayla happy. Not you hardly knew how to move your feet, could hardly tell what direction was up.
The anger grew and held firm in your head, making itself known with its red cloud fogging your mind.
Will grabbed your hand, "You okay?"
"Hmm."
Your vision blurred, everything swaying and twisting as you fell forward.
Will was faster than Jay was, for once. He saw the signs a mile away, already braced for when you would fall. He held you to his chest, lowering both of you to the ground and cradling your head as your body started to convulse.
Jay immediately dropped what he was carrying, falling to his knees by your side. Jay looked up at Will trying to ask silently what to do, but the eldest Halstead had gone full doctor mode.
"Need some help over here!" Will shouted, calling for the nurse's assistance.
"I need you to breathe,” Will spoke with such certainty, like he was treating any other patient.
“You’re okay,” Will kept repeating, “Just breathe, I’ve got you.”
Jay was ushered out of the way by the nurses, who crowded in with monitors and equipment to help Dr Halstead. All Jay could do was watch helplessly.
Jay held his breath as the medical team got you off the ground and transferred you back to the hospital bed. The leads they had removed that morning were reattached, placed on your ashen skin.
Dr Abrams rushed into the room and ordered Will to get out of his way, the forced politeness gone now the situation was emergent. Will stepped back, somewhat dubiously, letting Abrams run his team.
“How did you do that?” Jay asked when will stood by his side, the pair of them watching as Abrams and the team worked.
With a dose of meds, the convulsions stopped, but the team checked over the leads and kept working.
“Do what?” Will asked, turning to look at his brother. Jay had grown pale, the fear and anxiety he felt spelt out across his features. His eyes kept darting from you to the heart monitor screen like it was going to flatline.
“Stay so calm?” Jay whispered, taking a deep breath for the first time in the last few minutes. The nurses placed a mask over your face, securing it behind your head and then leaving the Halsteads and Abrams in the room.
“Jay…” Will tried to find a way to explain it, how he could just shut off his fear in that moment to help you. But he couldn’t find the words.
“She’s stable,” Abrams spoke in the silence that had formed, “From now on, we’ll keep giving them diazepam to keep them relaxed. No more strolls, even if it is supervised.”
Will nodded, taking it in.
Abrams was mostly speaking to Will, Jay was by your side, focused solely on you. He held your hand, careful to avoid the IV that was in the back of it. He watched you breathe, every-time you exhaled, he watched the mask fog up. He listened to the quiet puffs and the melodic beeping. You were okay. He kept trying to force himself to remember that. You were okay.
“Hopefully we can get this under control. In the meantime, we’ll keep monitoring, keep on with the EEG testing for the next few hours. Hopefully we’ll learn more.”
Will nodded, clapping Abrams on the back, “Thanks, Sam.”
The big brother in him wanted to press for answers, but the doctor in him knew that sometimes Doctors didn’t have the answers. If Abrams knew, he would share.
Will did a check over you and the monitors with his eyes, again. Then looked over to Jay, who looked completely deflated. It was no secret that Jay hated hospitals and medical treatment in general, especially needles. Spending time in hospitals usually gave him the creeps and he would always say to Will, “I don’t know how you do it, man.”
But Jay hadn’t complained even once. Not when he was watching the IV get put in your hand, or while you were attached to countless machines. Will knew it was because he felt hopeless. The same look that he wore at their dads bedside he wore now. Will stood and stared for a while, the memory playing in his mind in time with real life. This was different. You weren’t on life support like your father had been, things were different. That didn’t change the memories Will had of his dads last moments plaguing his mind.
“I stayed calm because i had too,” Will finally spoke. Jay looked up, watching his brother cross his arms over his chest and take a deep breath.
“I had to stay calm, for her.”
Jay shook his head, “I just froze, Will. And you-“
“Trained for years to react in medical emergency situations, spent years working the ER,” Will interrupted.
“Jay,” Will reached over the bed and gave jays shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I do this every day. I know how to tune out the emotions and focus on medical stuff.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Will sat on one of the chairs, mirroring Jay across the bed, “Listen. I could never get used to being shot at, could never be shot at and react how you do. Because I’m not trained, I’m not good at that. You aren’t a doctor Jay, stop beating yourself up over something that was a basic human reaction.”
Jay didn't answer, letting silence fall over the room. Neither one of the brothers was up for a conversation, mostly just consumed with their own thoughts as they watched you sleep.
You had stirred a few times in the coming hours but mostly stayed sleeping. Will told Jay that it was a combination of the medication and the stress of recent events catching up with you. In his words, it was nothing to worry about.
"Hey," A soft voice called from the door, Will and Jay stood to greet Hailey as she stepped into the room.
Will and Jay had been off work since you had gotten worse, staying by your side or close by ever since. Both Voight and Goodwin understood, giving them all the time they needed.
"I brought some supplies," Hailey joked, handing food over to the brothers, "And I stopped by home and Wills, got some clothes."
"Thanks, Hailey."
"Yeah, Of course." Hailey stood by Jay, taking his hand for his comfort. "How's she doing?"
Will relayed the events of the day, the incident in the hall and all the things that had happened since. Things were moving fast, more tests and hopeful treatment plans were being talked about.
"It'll be okay," Will finished, mostly trying to convince Jay more than himself. He knew the look on Abram's face, knew that everything was far from okay.
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Will told Jay to go back to work after a week, promising him that sitting by your side was a one-man job. Will had spoken to Goodwin, who agreed to let him take his occurred PTO for as long as he needed. So for the three weeks you were in the hospital he stayed by your side. You weren't used to having Will there every single minute of every single day, but you didn't mind it too much. Mostly he helped you go on walks or watched over you like a personal nurse. You knew that he and Jay were worried, but the overprotective brother act was suffocating at times. During the last week of your stay, you managed to convince him to let you have more space - that when he left the room you wouldn't make a break for it like Jay would. He agreed hesitantly, mostly hanging around from lunch until you fell asleep at night. You complained to Jay when he visited every day, but you were thankful he was there.
On the last few days of your time in the hospital, you were more independent, nothing like what you were before the accident, but more than before. You could walk small distances unsupported and some of your fine motor skills came back. The PT had told you it was common after TBI's for patients to lose control of their movements and motor skills, she promised that you would get better as time went on.
Dr Abrams had spoken to Will and Jay about Rehabilitation centres, there were a few in the city that focused on TBI rehabilitation but Will had been dragging his feet. Jay wanted to do what was best for you, even if it meant you might have to stay in a rehab facility. Will had a sour taste in his mouth over it all.
"Come in," Goodwin called from inside her office.
Will pushed open the door, greeting Sharon and Peter.
"What can I help you with, Doctor Halstead?" Sharon asked after Peter had left.
Will explained his plan, reviewing all the details he had sorted out. When he finished, Sharon was nodding in approval.
"Are you sure about this?"
"I am," Will was sure nothing could change his mind now.
"Okay then, I will talk to Dr Archer, and see how we can help," Goodwin bid Will the best, letting him continue on his way.
Will met Jay right outside your room, almost running straight into him.
"Will," Jay grabbed his brother's arm, "We need to talk about the rehab facility-"
"Yeah," Will nodded, "I know, i have a plan."
Will ushed Jay back into the room. He gestured to Jay to a chair and took a seat at the end of your bed. You were expecting him to stop by, sitting up properly on the bed expecting some kind of serious conversation from the eldest Halstead.
"What is it, doc?" You joked.
Will smiled, reaching out and holding your hand, "I have spoken to Dr Abrams and Sharon Goodwin and I have decided that we won't be trying to find a rehab facility."
Jay sighed, he had been arguing with Will about this for the better part of the week. "Will-"
"I think you should stay with me," Will told you directly, "I've taken a leave of absence, I think you should be home and recovering."
You looked to Jay, who was just as surprised. Jay hardly got caught off guard by Will, right now he had never been more surprised.
"Are you sure?" Jay broke the silence that settled over the room.
"If that is what you want?"
You could feel the joy blooming in your chest, a wide smile breaking across your face, "Yes. Please, yes."
Will mirrored your grin, pulling you into a tight hug and kissing your forehead. At times like this, you were reminded how much Will and Jay became like parents to you after your father's death. Although it was painful for all of you, you didn't have a good relationship with your father. He was never caring or affectionate, he never came to your sports games or awards, that was all Jay and Will. They stepped up and took care of you, they always have and promised they always would. You were so drained from the last few days of tests and the week in the hospital that you felt like you might burst into tears.
Will could sense your fragile state, staying sitting by your side and holding your hand. Jay got to his feet and pulled you into a hug too, then clapped Will on the back. 
“So when am I allowed out?” You pressed, hoping to be home and somewhere familiar. 
“Slow your roll,” Jay laughed, “There's still things that need to be organized.” 
You let out a loud dramatic sigh, “I hate it here,” You whined. 
Will wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him and playfully messing up your hair, “It won't be too much longer, promise.” 
“Pinky promise?” You raised your finger, dramatically pouting. 
Will indulged you, linking his pinky through yours and giving you a serious stare, “Pinky promise.”
taglist: @halstead-severide-fan
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chezzywezzy · 3 months ago
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Yandere Birdbox (3/5)
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Word count; 3.8k
For the first time, Y/n had the concious thought about whether they could use their ability to see their surroundings. They always thought their blindness was a curse, but in the apolcolypse, it had come in usefully. Whether this was only an ability in their sleep, Y/n had yet to determine, but they hoped it wasn’t — Y/n didn’t see any other way to survive.
Y/n laid their head against the counter. They plugged their phone in, dreading the day when electricity was no longer available and Siri — Y/n’s only friend — was silenced. And then came the issue of food. They were stuck. Y’n couldn’t help but ponder death. They were aware of how generally awful they were as a person, and that kept Y/n with a will to live and a will to die.
Y/n was selfish, rude, and a coward. They were bitter at the world for being unfair and punished the people around them the same. Too selfish and afraid to die, but too hateful toward the world to live. It was a conundrum. Y/n figured, though, that their general confusion would be the death of them, as they were too confused on what to do. Y/n had their talents in a paintbrush, not a weapon. Y/n couldn’t see. Y/n hardly knew the area because their father often shipped groceries to their doorstep so Y/n only left the house for exhibitions, interviews, and art supplies. 
Their father. Y/n sat up, grabbing the phone. 
“Hey, Siri. Call dad.”
The phone began ringing. The screen was slightly cracked, but its not as though Y/n cared. The phone rang. And rang. And rang.
“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. After the tone, please leave a message.”
A wave of sadness and worry washed over Y/n. They recognized that their father was the most important person in their life. Perhaps his phone was dead. Perhaps it was lost. Perhaps he was asleep.
Or perhaps he was dead.
For the first time since hell had descended on earth, Y/n began to cry. They wandered over to the couch to lay down, curling on their side. For the first time in a while, they thought of ‘Last Look’s dreadful day.
“Doctor, why can’t my child see? How can they get their sight back?” their father pleaded.
“Sir, I’m sory, We’ve ran several tests, but sometimes, things like this happen. A hidden gene. A faulty switch in the occipital lobe. Although there is still no noticable differences in their brain development, nerves, or blood work, cases like this happen. It’s unfortunate, and unfair. Sometimes, the eyes shut down entirely overnight from unknown causes. And, currently, we don’t have the technology to do anything about it.”
Their father’s eyebrows furrowed. Although Y/n couldn’t see it, he was losing hope. He wondered if he had somehow failed his only child. 
“I… I did some research. They somehow made a young boy see again —“
“That was a scientific anomaly, sir,” the doctor argued desperately. “And anyway, this clinic is incapable of giving that kind of treatment.”
Y/n’s father began to sob. They are crying, too. The doctor’s words scared them. They clawed and rubbed at their eyes, but their father grabbed their hands, squeezing tightly. He comforted them, whispering sweet words that everything would be alright. That they would make due. That there was nothing wrong with being blind. That it wasn’t the end of the world.
But Y/n was only a child. Their entire future had been robbed. Y/n didn’t know of any blind heros. Anyone out there that made a living or lived independently. Y/n was uneducated. All they knew was that their world had ended, and that they wanted to see again.
And see they now did. Y/n shot up. It was but a blink, but they saw. It was like they physically transcended their body and walked to the door, going right through it. They reached for a canvas, their fingers tracing it like a memory. A man. Middle-aged, beer-bellied, straggling jawline, balding. Pale eyes with a daze. Pounding, over and over. His knuckles bleeding. His clothes torn and bloody. The woman’s corpse beside him, eyes torn open and from her skull, as though his fingers had dug into them to remove them personally. In the woman’s chest, there was an iron rod.
Y/n could still see it clearly. The man was really there, still pounding ruthlessly. Y/n had blocked out the knocking, but with sudden focus, their ears returned to the sound.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
They dropped the brush and went over to the kitchen. They pulled a knife from the drawe, removing the blade cover. The wind was still howling outside, pounding at the windows. They went over to the door.
Y/n suddenly found courage and a voice.
“How are you alive? Why are you here? How did you know I was here?”
The knocking stopped suddenly. With its absense, an eerie silence followed. Y/n suddenly regretted speaking up.
A gruff voice, enchanted yet ery, very dry and cracked, answered. “They showed me true beuty. They want me to show you. Let me give you my eyes, Y/n. I want to give you my eyes —“
“Why is everyone else dead but you? What’s doing all this?” Y/n’s voice was shaky yet steady. 
“…Sinners. All of them. They did not want to see. But I do. You do. They want me to show you it all. Open the door, Y/n. Let me give you my eyes.”
“That’s impossible. I am blind. Please, leave me alone —“
“But you have the sight!” the man suddenly boomed. “They gave it to you a long, long time ago. And now, they will show you everything great and beautiful. Open the door. Open the door. Let me give you my eyes.”
Y/n only grew more confused with every sentence. Nothing made sense. 
“How will you give me your eyes?”
Manic, cracked laughter ensued. “I will tear them from my skull and hand them to you. You must see it, Y/n. It is beautiful! Beautiful, I tell you! Open the door!”
“Leave your eyes at the doorstep. I will take them that way.”
“I wish to see you myself. They speak so highly of you. You are the most beautiful landscape of all. I must see you, Y/n. I must see you and hand you my eyes —!”
Shivers rolled down their spine and they took a step away from the door. Y/n was left with more questions than answers. The whole endeavor was pointless. However, Y/n knew that they couldn’t stand the knocking anymore. And they didn’t trust that this man would just die. Something supernatural had consumed the world. The man’s eyes weren’t normal. Perhaps his biology wasn’t, either.
With that, Y/n didn’t let the fear take over. They unlocked the front door and swung it open. The voice was no longer muffled. They aimed to stab, but the man suddenly bellowed and collapsed to his knees. The man was far more vocally gruesome with a door no longer seperating them. The man bowed.
His scarred, bloody hands touched Y/n’s feet. He scrambled and panted. Y/n is left stunned, allowing the man to grovel at their feet. 
Sobs echoed the empty hallway.
And Y/n was shaking from head to toe.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” he cried. “They were right! The most beautiful thing in creation!”
His praises fell on deaf ears. Rough hands squeezed Y/n’s feet and they felt overwhelming disgust, overpowering the fear. The hands clawe at their calves and then their thighs. Suddenly, he withdrew, falling silent. His face was drenched in sweat. He glistened with salt and oil. Tears continued to fall, and although Y/n did not know, his eyes were glued to their figure in awe.
And then, he began to claw. He dug his thumb and pointer finger into his eyelids. Y/n stumbled back, hearing the squelch. The man released painful gurgles. Slowly and painfully, he removed his eyes. The man sobbed desperately, and yet all he cried was blood.
Y/n felt a spray against their pants. Y/n had enough. Their selfish, angry side kicked in, adrenaline suddenly bursting through their veins. Gritting their teeth, they stabbed the man in the neck, somehow knowing exactly where to aim. The man gurgled out a cry, dropping his eyeballs and collapsing to the welcome mat. Y/n kicked the man away, feeling their socks get drenched with liquids. The man’s thud was the last sound he made. 
Y/n felt around the corpse for the knife, disgusted. They removed it. 
They slammed the door shut and locked it again.
The corpse sat there. The man lay there, decaying and wet. The eyeballs were completely seperated and long cords spun out from his eyes. Despite the pain he and Y/n had caused, the man was smiling.
Y/n was rattled to their core, turning and sliding down the door. Their hands had intense tremors. They knew damn well they couldn’t stay stuck. The wind was howling, harder and harder. The beast was near. And the insane missionary had found them once. Another one surely could. 
Y/n stayed frozen on the floor, cradling the moist knife like a child, for a very, very long time. It was slowly settling on them that they had commited murder. It didn’t feel like self-defense. The man had worshipped them, for christ’s sake. They couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened, had they taken the eyes? What would they have seen?
They decided to think it over in the shower; they knew they had to move while they had the resources. Siri wouldn’t live forever. Their food supply wouldn’t last. They needed to find a grocery store to camp in — one that wouldn’t be too populated with hypothetical looters.
They also needed resolution on what happened to their father.
When they hopped out of the shower, they began to pack the essentials: their charger, phone, cane, clothing, food, and paints. Everything they’d need to survive, but also live. 
Y/n’s first thought of where to go was the corner store down the block. It’s where they often went for an easy snack. Y/n took their cane and turned Siri on to the corner store. They shoved the phone in their pocket after plugging in earbuds. 
They felt their way toward the elevator. Their ears were keen, but the hallway was silent.Usually, their apatment building was full of hustle and bustle, especially at… god, Y/n didn’t even know what time it was. So, they asked while in the elevator.
“Seven-thirty-three.”
The elevator beeped and the doors opened. More silence. Siri repeated directions, but Y/n knew the way to the front entrance. 
They paused. The beast seemed to follow their every move; it was everywhere. It was the air Y/n was breathing. That much they knew. They hovered, afraid to leave. But Y/n’s will to survive and be selfish was the most important part.
And then they hear it: a screaming woman. Y/n dashed out the door, selfishly believing this was their chance. In Y/n’s mind, the wind would divert its attention, even if it was an entire entity. The screams echoed and grew louder. The wind was bustling and squealing in their ears. They could hardly use their cane, relying solely on Siri’s directions.
“Turn left to reach your destination.”
Y/n skidded to a stop, losing their footing. Y/n grunted loudly, knowing they would probably be left with a nasty bruise. They scrambled onto their knees. They dropped the cane, but as the wind whistled and bustled, the cane was the last thing on their mind. In their world of darkness, they crawled forward, finally feeling at a glass panel. Y/n scrambled to their feet, gripping the handle.
They pulled at it desperately, almost falling again as the door swung open. They felt papers adorn the inside, and a wave of relief washed over them as they pulled the door shut. Y/n was shaking in their boots as they held the position, feeling the wind beat against the door. 
Click.
Y/n tensed, turning wildly and reluctantly releasing the doorknob. Their voice came out as a squeak.
“Who’s there?”
“Don’t move. Hands up.”
A man’s voice echoed in the otherwise silent corner store. The man sounds gruff, and Y/n can tell that the man sounds rather redneck. And by the clicking, the man held a gun. Y/n complied.
The man emerged from behind a shelf, crouched slightly, and had a pistol aimed directly at them. Y/n panted, unaware of the man’s exact location. Their head turned every which way, attempting to locate the man. The man wore a dark leather jacket and was somewhat older. He had a peppered beard and a big bald spot on his head. He wore glasses and ripped jeans, giving off the general aesthetic of a retired biker. 
“Now, what’s it like out there? Have you seen it?”
“I - I don’t know. It’s quiet, sir,” Y/n stuttered. “I’m blind — I can’t see the monster —“
“Bullshit.”
“I dropped my cane right outside the door —“
“I know you’re just like the last guy. Trying to fool me, are you —“
“I’m blind! I’m Y/n L/n — I’m famous, haven’t you fucking heard of me, you fucking loser?” Y/n exclaimed, almost insulted. “Just look out, and you’ll see you fucking cane —“
While Y/n had been ranting and tossing insults at the man, he had progressed silently. Y/n stared out blankly, expression angry and unchanging as the man snuck up on them. Y/n paused, breathing heavily. All they saw was darkness, unaware of whether a gunshot would shoot them dead.
“Boo.”
Y/n jumped wildly, flailing to the ground. They burst into tears, which made the man laugh. He glanced out the paper, noticing the cane. “By golly, I guess you are blind. Or one hell of an actor. You don’t got the same eyes as them, either.”
“Jesus, fuck you —“
The man lowered his gun and chuckled gruffly. “Yeah, yeah. If you saw the world we were living in right now, you’d understand. Now, get away from the door and behind this here counter.”
Without asking, the man grabbed and pulled them. Y/n frowned firmly but allowed it to happen. Behind the counter was a small pile of wrapper trash and a torn up sleeping bag. The man beckoned to sit, but they gathered that once they felt the counter. Their movements were still skittery, untrusting of the man before them.
“So, let’s exchange stories.”
“Stories?”
“My name is Mark. I’m the owner of this establishment, although that doesn’t mean much these days,” he explained. “I followed the news religiously, waiting for something like this. Then, I noticed reports of mass hysteria starting in Italy. I shut down shop immediately, and not even an hour or so later, the news turned to shit, and so did the world outside. I learned that whatever’s out there cannot be seen and all that shit, so I’ve got my trusty blindfold around my neck just in case. And finally, I guess it’s safe here for now, but we sure as hell can’t stay here. It’s a fucking corner store. The supplies aren’t endless.”
Y/n listened intently to his ramblings and, deciding to suspend distrust, nodded and replied. “Yeah, okay. So, I’m blind. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of me. I’m the ‘blind painter.’ I had a gallery that day and was heading home when it all started. Uh, and I was fine until I started having… dreams. Seeing things that were there. Like this cult guy outside my door that wouldn’t leave me alone. I actually saw what he looked like in my head. I killed the guy and he was fucking worshiping me. Something about how he wanted me to see. God, he pulled out his eyes —“ Y/n stopped, replaying that moment in their head and shuddering. “Uh, and I came here… Oh. And I’m Y/n.”
“The fuck?”
“I guess this plague affects everyone differently, but if I’d known that, I sure as hell wouldn’t have let you in.”
“It’s a gift,” Y/n insisted anxiously. “A stupid one. But my father always told me god gave me eyes in my dreams. The truth is, I think I’ve seen the monster in my dreams. And when I focused, I could see the man outside my apartment. But only when asleep.”
“Prove it. Show me some of your drawings. You obviously brought the fucking supplies.”
“I haven’t used this notebook in years. It’s only old drafts,” Y/n answered, withdrawing the notebook from their bag. 
“Well, if you’re some fancy painter, it doesn’t really matter.”
Without warning, the man snatched the notebook from their grasp and started going through the pages. He slowly goes through them, ignoring Y/n’s angry expression from the invasion. Inside the notebook was several drafts of pretty locations. Some faces. The occasional animal.
Mark paused at a page, his brows crinkling. “This the monster you saw in your head?”
“What is it?”
Mark described it to them.
“Yes. Although that could have been my imagination.”
Mark continued to stare at the scribbles. It was somehow made of clean yet untidy scribbles. There was a large circle surrounding a large head that had long, spindly tendrils, leaving a cavernous mouth. The thing had slits for eyes, and there was a gleam to the flesh of the beast. It was like a halo over it, and Mark couldn’t help but admire the drawing. 
Then, he turned the page to find another one. He was suspicious, but the drawings were aged and marked with a date from several years ago. This drawing had a clearer face image, showing the tall, slimy forehead. The slits for eyes were open, bulbous, and consumed with black charcoal. The tendrils leaked down the paper like Y/n had switched to paint halfway through.
After that sketch, it returned to an image of a mountain waterfall.
“…Huh. So you’re telling me you saw this shit coming too?”
“Hardly. I thought they were nothing but recurring dreams until now.”
“Well, let me get some food. I think there’s a spare sleeping bag in the back, too.”
Mark rose and weaved around Y/n. Y/n remained still, grabbing their notebook back and getting lost in thought.
They thought about how long they would be able to stay, especially in the company of Mark. Another person meant the distribution of resources, but Mark could also see and shoot. Y/n figured their thoughts were selfish, but the world would probably be much prettier without fellow humans polluting it. Yn didn’t care much bout life, but cared enough that they refused to commit suicide. Y/n wondered if their father was alive —
Y/n heard a door open and assumed Mark was returning. Mark returned with a box of Frosted Flakes and a rolled-up, far newer sleeping bag. 
A sense of safety and exhaustion reached Y/n as they silently munched on Frosted Flakes. The taste was slightly stale, and despite their typical pickiness, there was a sense of comfort. They came to terms calmly with the fact that the apocalypse was upon them. That meant that stale cereal, a warm sleeping bag, and a man with a gun weren’t the worst things in the world at that moment.
“You sure you aren’t possessed?” Mark yawned, perking up and cradling his pistol.
“He said ‘they’’ wanted to give me my eyes back. To give me true sight. The ma worshipped me as a god,” Y/n recalled with a pause. “I wish I was possessed because whatever they are seeing… it must be incredible.”
~~~
Y/n was awoken from a deep, terrifying slumber with animated shaking. “Wake the fuck up!” Mark bellowed. “What are you seeing?”
Y/n scrambled, sleep in their eyes. Mark was on top of things, scrambling for their paint palette and notebook. Y/n felt at them. Some terrified tears escaped their eyes as they scribbled roughly on the notebook paper. Mark was silent and watched carefully as Y/n drew, their gaze staring up fearfully and unknowingly making direct eye contact with Mark.
Y/n suddenly dropped the paint brush and panted. “This. I saw this.”
Y/n handed the notebook over. Some time had passed; according to Mark, they had rationed well, and a week or so had passed. Trust had formed between the two of them. Sometimes, Y/n dreamt and they drew. But based on the violence in their head, Mark must have known something was especially wrong with this one. Y/n often woke up with the sun, according to Mark, but Y/n had the sense that the sun was not up yet.
“I… hope I drew it right. I saw many, many people. A mob. They were walking down a road, dazed and enchanted. They’ve seen it.”
Mak analyzed the work intensely. He was still amazed at his comrade's ability and figured it would be his demise. But at least it kept him on his toes. It made for conversation, too. 
The image depicted rocky, cold, and dying terrain with stale grass and swamplands in the distance. A few abandoned, rotting cars were on a large, spacious road, which was covered in oddly detailed figures. The mob was walking, dazed, just as Y/n had described. The mob was thick, and despite their harmless and dumb expressions, they yielded weapons — anything from crowbars to hammers to guns. 
“That’s Dale. My coworker,” Mark stated, pointing to one of the figures. “We worked at the same local construction company for a while.”
“Local?”
“Local.”
The realization dawned on the pair. Mark examined the road further. “That same road. It’s the main road leading into town.”
“Fuck.”
“Do you know what that means? Why are they coming here?” Mark inquired carefully, perturbed by the situation.
“They’re… coming for me, I think. It won’t take a genius to realize that I moved. Please, we have to go somewhere else —“
“Jesus, I get it. Let’s pack what we can. We can go out to back. And, Y/n, I want you to wear this blindfold. Just in case.”
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